#AWS cost efficiency

[vastedge330]

Discover how AWS enables businesses to achieve greater flexibility, scalability, and cost efficiency through hybrid data management. Learn key strategies like dynamic resource allocation, robust security measures, and seamless integration with existing systems. Uncover best practices to optimize workloads, enhance data analytics, and maintain business continuity with AWS's comprehensive tools. This guide is essential for organizations looking to harness cloud and on-premises environments effectively.

[jcmarchi]

Jason Knight is Co-founder and VP of ML at OctoAI – Interview Series

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/jason-knight-is-co-founder-and-vp-of-ml-at-octoai-interview-series/

Jason Knight is Co-founder and VP of ML at OctoAI – Interview Series

Jason Knight is Co-founder and Vice President of Machine Learning at OctoAI, the platform delivers a complete stack for app builders to run, tune, and scale their AI applications in the cloud or on-premises.

OctoAI was spun out of the University of Washington by the original creators of Apache TVM, an open source stack for ML portability and performance. TVM enables ML models to run efficiently on any hardware backend, and has quickly become a key part of the architecture of popular consumer devices like Amazon Alexa.

Can you share the inspiration behind founding OctoAI and the core problem you aimed to solve?

AI has traditionally been a complex field accessible only to those comfortable with the mathematics and high-performance computing required to make something with it. But AI unlocks the ultimate computing interfaces, that of text, voice, and imagery programmed by examples and feedback, and brings the full power of computing to everyone on Earth. Before AI, only programmers were able to get computers to do what they wanted by writing arcane programming language texts.

OctoAI was created to accelerate our path to that reality so that more people can use and benefit from AI. And people, in turn, can use AI to create yet more benefits by accelerating the sciences, medicine, art, and more.

Reflecting on your experience at Intel, how did your previous roles prepare you for co-founding and leading the development at OctoAI?

Intel and the AI hardware and biotech startups before it gave me the perspective to see how hard AI is for even the most sophisticated of technology companies, and yet how valuable it can be to those who have figured out how to use it. And seeing that the gap between those benefiting from AI compared to those who aren’t yet is primarily one of infrastructure, compute, and best practices—not magic.

What differentiates OctoStack from other AI deployment solutions available in the market today?

OctoStack is the industry’s first complete technology stack designed specifically for serving generative AI models anywhere. It offers a turnkey production platform that provides highly optimized inference, model customization, and asset management at an enterprise scale.

OctoStack allows organizations to achieve AI autonomy by running any model in their preferred environment with full control over data, models, and hardware. It also delivers unmatched performance and cost efficiency, with savings of up to 12X compared to other solutions like GPT-4.

Can you explain the advantages of deploying AI models in a private environment using OctoStack?

Models these days are ubiquitous, but assembling the right infrastructure to run those models and apply them with your own data is where the business-value flywheel truly starts to spin. Using these models on your most sensitive data, and then turning that into insights, better prompt engineering, RAG pipelines, and fine-tuning is where you can get the most value out of generative AI. But it’s still difficult for all but the most sophisticated companies to do this alone, which is where a turnkey solution like OctoStack can accelerate you and bring the best practices together in one place for your practitioners.

Deploying AI models in a private environment using OctoStack offers several advantages, including enhanced security and control over data and models. Customers can run generative AI applications within their own VPCs or on-premises, ensuring that their data remains secure and within their chosen environments. This approach also provides businesses with the flexibility to run any model, be it open-source, custom, or proprietary, while benefiting from cost reductions and performance improvements.

What challenges did you face in optimizing OctoStack to support a wide range of hardware, and how were these challenges overcome?

Optimizing OctoStack to support a wide range of hardware involved ensuring compatibility and performance across various devices, such as NVIDIA and AMD GPUs and AWS Inferentia. OctoAI overcame these challenges by leveraging its deep AI systems expertise, developed through years of research and development, to create a platform that continuously updates and supports additional hardware types, GenAI use cases, and best practices. This allows OctoAI to deliver market-leading performance and cost efficiency.

Additionally, getting the latest capabilities in generative AI, such as multi-modality, function calling, strict JSON schema following, efficient fine-tune hosting, and more into the hands of your internal developers will accelerate your AI takeoff point.

OctoAI has a rich history of leveraging Apache TVM. How has this framework influenced your platform’s capabilities?

We created Apache TVM to make it easy for sophisticated developers to write efficient AI libraries for GPUs and accelerators more easily. We did this because getting the most performance from GPU and accelerator hardware was critical for AI inference then as it is now.

We’ve since leveraged that same mindset and expertise for the entire Gen AI serving stack to deliver automation for a broader set of developers.

Can you discuss any significant performance improvements that OctoStack offers, such as the 10x performance boost in large-scale deployments?

OctoStack offers significant performance improvements, including up to 12X savings compared to other models like GPT-4 without sacrificing speed or quality. It also provides 4X better GPU utilization and a 50 percent reduction in operational costs, enabling organizations to run large-scale deployments efficiently and cost-effectively.

Can you share some notable use cases where OctoStack has significantly improved AI deployment for your clients?

A notable use case is Apate.ai, a global service combating telephone scams using generative conversational AI. Apate.ai leveraged OctoStack to efficiently run their suite of language models across multiple geographies, benefiting from OctoStack’s flexibility, scale, and security. This deployment allowed Apate.ai to deliver custom models supporting multiple languages and regional dialects, meeting their performance and security-sensitive requirements.

In addition, we serve hundreds of fine-tunes for our customer OpenPipe. Were they to spin up dedicated instances for each of these, their customers’ use cases would be infeasible as they grow and evolve their use cases and continuously re-train their parameter-efficient fine-tunes for maximum output quality at cost-effective prices.

Thank you for the great interview, readers who wish to learn more should visit OctoAI.

[goognu1]

5 ways How to reduce your AWS Bill

Goognu, a trusted provider of AWS Cloud consulting services, understands the importance of cost optimization in cloud environments. We recognize that managing your AWS bill effectively can significantly impact your organization's financial health. That's why we've compiled five key strategies to help you reduce your AWS bill and maximize your cost-efficiency. Read this blog to know more

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

1: LONGING

Masterlist > Chapter 2

Summary: You were born into HYDRA, it wasn't a choice you were offered. The Winter Soldier is thrust into your care and you realize there is more to him than meets the eye.

Pairing: Winter Soldier x HYDRA!reader, Bucky Barnes x HYDRA!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT: guided masturbation— If there is any more you find not listed here please be sure to let me know so I can add it.

Being born into a HYDRA legacy family was a burden you never asked to bear, a responsibility thrust upon you from the moment you took your first breath. Try as you might, you could never fully escape the dark shadow cast by your family's ties to the sinister organization, its tendrils snaking through every facet of society. No matter how hard you fought, HYDRA's grip was inescapable. As a child, you were shipped off to the HYDRA Preparatory Academy nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains, where you were indoctrinated in the group's twisted ideology and forced to endure the bitterness of the unforgiving winters - a trial by fire meant to temper your resolve.

Yet, despite HYDRA's best efforts to mold you into a loyal, unquestioning soldier, your sympathetic and tender nature refused to be extinguished. This inherent compassion led you down an unlikely path, guiding you towards a nurturing profession that eventually landed you in the frozen tundra of Siberia. Here, you and two colleagues were tasked with attending to a single HYDRA asset, expected to provide the organization with your complete and unwavering dedication. It was a duty you were well-trained to fulfill, for you were the type who gave your all to every task, driven by an unyielding desire to do good in the world, one person at a time. No matter the personal cost, you would fulfill your obligations to the best of your abilities, driven by a sense of duty that spoke louder than the icy winds that howled outside your door.

You reported to Karpov. He was a ruthless man. He marched you into a room with a leather bound red book in his hand.

“Stay,” he barked at you.

Karpov's gravelly voice then laid bare your new mission; to cater to the asset's every need, to attend to the most minute details of the Winter Soldier's care. From the mundane tasks of washing and grooming him, to tending to his injuries or indulging his wildest desires, you were to be wholly devoted to his well being. The weight of this responsibility settled upon you as you silently nodded, your mind racing with the implications of this assignment.

Suddenly, the ominous sound of a door creaking open pierced the tense silence, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as the infamous Winter Soldier strode into the room, his heavy footfalls echoing with each step. Towering before you, the living embodiment of HYDRA's ruthless efficiency, you could scarcely believe that this legendary operative was now your charge. His history of unparalleled skill and merciless brutality was the stuff of whispered legends, and now you were tasked with catering to his every need. In that moment, the gravity of your mission became painfully clear, and you steeled your resolve, prepared to serve the asset with unwavering dedication.

He was your mission.

“Soldat has just been woken from the cryostasis chamber. Ensure he is ready for his mission in 24 hours.”

As you stood before the soldier, his vacant yet handsome features captivated you. His eyes, devoid of any discernible emotion, seemed to gaze through you rather than at you, leaving you transfixed by the paradox of his striking appearance and unsettling detachment. You found yourself utterly enraptured, unable to look away from this enigmatic figure, your awe manifesting in a stunned silence. It was in this moment of captivation that Karpov, observing your reaction, must have mistaken your rapt fascination for fear. Sensing your unease, he swiftly moved to reassure you, his words cutting through the heavy silence that had enveloped the space between you. 

“He will not hurt you. He will comply,” he said before leaving you alone with the beast before you.

After a few moments of staring at Soldat, his gaze flicked down to meet yours. His ocean blue eyes seemed to soften slightly as they surveyed your form. They raked their way over your appearance with an emotion you couldn't quite identify. His face was still a blank slate but the pale blue windows into his soul betrayed the fire that blazed deep down inside him. 

“Soldat?” you whispered, unsure of how to address your new ward.

Immediately his attention was focused on your face, his gaze boring into yours. “Gotov soblyudat' (ready to comply).” His response was barely a breath.

You surveyed your charge with curiosity, walking around him slowly, taking in his appearance. From the way his unwashed hair stuck to his scalp and his unevenly trimmed bangs obscured his eyes like a sheepdog, down to his dirt covered boots. The higher powers of the agency hadn’t even seen it fit to grace the soldier with the dignity of clean clothes before they had placed him back into the stasis chamber. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and a quiet ‘tsk’ left your mouth before you looked back into his surprisingly handsome face. You had never been this close to an asset before and you were shocked by his natural beauty. There was an irresistible pull inside you and you found yourself reaching out to sweep the hair from his eyes, your thumb brushing over his well defined cheek smearing the black camouflage paint over his face.

“We need to get you cleaned up, Soldat.” You turned and made your way over to the dresser on the side of the room that you knew contained clean clothes and towels.

Despite your back being to the soldier, you could feel his stare following you around the room. He didn’t make a sound, just watching as you moved around collecting different items. Unbeknownst to you, the Winter Soldier was suffering from an internal quandary. For the first time in many years, his body was behaving in a way that hadn't been ordered, but it was still out of his control.

His attention was drawn to the unique features of your face, tracing the smooth curves of your waist, right down to the fullness of your ass in the tailored scrubs that hugged your figure in a rather erotic manner. It was always a conscious choice you made, dressing in a way that highlighted your assets. It helped you get noticed in a world full of sadistic, testosterone driven egomaniacs who otherwise wouldn’t lift a finger to help you or those in your care. Your form and bearing were definitely getting you noticed today, not that you’d had a chance to see it.

You handed him a towel and waited for him to move. But the soldier’s only move was to accept your offering, waiting on you for further instruction. The intensity of his stare was unnerving, almost like he could see into your soul. For a moment, you wondered who he had been before, before HYDRA had made him. There was a fire behind those blue eyes, maybe his dreams weren’t as empty as his conscience seemed to be. You lost yourself in contemplation for a moment, admiring the allure of his majestic form, seemingly unaware of the way his presence warmed your body.

“Soldat!” you exclaimed, shaking yourself out of your reverie. Suddenly you remembered the task at hand, not wanting to be caught slacking your duties on the first day of your assignment. “Go and take a shower.”

You watched him comply, traipsing into the adjoining room without closing the door, stopping short of the glass cubicle. He hesitated before stepping inside, fully clothed.

“Stop!” you cried with exasperation, following him without thinking. “You need to take off your clothes first.”

He looked at you with an unfathomable expression and you felt a pang of guilt for your tone. “Take off your clothes first,” you repeated in a more gentle voice. “Before you get in the shower.”

Slowly, Soldat held out the towel gripped in his titanium arm and you accepted. His stillness made you wonder if he even knew what to do next. Did he need more specific instruction? Or were you going to have to undress him yourself? The thought made you blush slightly. This had never come up in the job description. Not that you would object seeing him without clothing. Just as you opened your mouth, he brought his right hand up to his chest.

You watched him undo the fastenings on the vest covering his torso. His biceps bulged with his actions and you wondered if he felt the cold when he slept. It made your heart contract with an unexpected sadness.

Winter shed his layers one at a time as you watched with a burning curiosity. The leather around him unraveling to reveal his chiseled abs and lithe torso. The tiniest gasp escaped your lips as he undid the zipper on his pants, burying his thumbs under the seam to push them down. You averted your gaze as he pushed them to the floor unabashedly. He stood up, frowning with confusion at your reaction. Dignity wasn’t a luxury he had been offered for the last half century and he didn’t understand it.

Seeing you flush made him feel something foreign. It wasn't new, but it wasn't familiar. Like a dim distant memory of a life unlived. It awakened a part of him that they considered to be long dead. Passion. If you hadn’t turned away, you would have noticed how his body reacted to you. His impressive girth swelled and lengthened in response to your presence. Desire. But as he entered the shower, his arousal remained unseen by you. 

“Turn on the water,” you instructed. It finally occurred to you that maybe he needed more detailed instruction, like a complex computer programme. You’d seen how other handlers had kept soldiers as blank slates with electric stimulation targeted at the hippocampus. It suppressed their ability to recall memories and your Soldat had only just been wiped, immediately after being woken from stasis. It made sense that he was befuddled by his handler’s actions.

“Make sure the water isn’t too hot or too cold,” you added, listening for him to adjust the taps.

You closed your eyes, picturing his actions in your mind’s eye, resisting the urge to look over your shoulder to take a peek. It was the lack of change in sound that got your attention. The sound of water falling against his body didn’t seem to be changing in the way you expected of someone who was attempting to clean themselves. There was nothing else for you to do but to look.

If your life was a cartoon, your eyes would have been popping out of your head before falling to the floor and rolling around like golf balls. You wanted to trace the well defined contours of his toned back, eyes settling on where flesh met metal, following the branching scars that spread out like a mycelial network, leaching their poison into his sturdy form. You bit your lower lip to stop a soft whimper escaping when you finally dragged your eyes down to look at his firm ass.

Maybe he could sense the ferocity of your stare, or maybe he caught the soft sound of your stimulation, but he turned around to face you. And as he did so, you became aware of his soldier, standing tall and ready for attention. You were caught off guard by the gargantuan signs of his arousal, not having considered the man before you as anything other than an asset. But here he stood, before you, giving you a full view of his humanity, the passion that resided within. His state was more than just a mere physical response. The asset that you’d been assigned wasn’t just the empty shell of someone who had once been a man, there was still someone behind those cold blue eyes.

“Do you understand what you need to do, Soldat?” you asked, feeling flustered by the situation you had found yourself in.

He nodded and you took this as a cue for you to leave, turning to drape his towel over the nearest hook, you took a step towards the door. Except-

“Ostavat'sya.” (Stay)

There was such a raspiness to his voice, that it was a wonder you even understood the word. Your Russian wasn't as fluent as you would have liked it to be. There was definitely more behind those blue eyes than you had been led to believe. There was more to your job that you'd initially expected. Karpov’s words rang in your ears from earlier. The asset’s every need. The longer you spent with him, the more you noticed that he was coming to life. The emptiness you’d seen when he had stepped into the room had given way to something new, something intense. It was that intensity which drew you in, that made you seek out a connection, that made you feel bold. Bold enough to speak up.

You weren’t exactly shy, there was no room for that in HYDRA. But you were more reserved than the other men and women you’d trained with. You would often let your suitors come to you rather than seek them out. Today though, you were in control.

“Do you need some help with that, Soldat?” you purred.

The Winter Soldier didn’t answer but you saw the ways his eyes became darker, pupils dilated and his breath came faster with anticipation.

“What is it, Soldat? Are you expecting me to do that for you?”

He looked back at you, fire dancing in his eyes. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, ghosting over his stunning lips before giving you a hint of a smirk.

“Do you speak?” you demanded, accepting your dominating role.

“Da.” (yes)

“Do you speak English?” you wondered out loud. Your language skills were not quite as sharp as some of your others. Russian was not your strong suit.

“If you want me to.” The husky tone of his voice made you swoon and your core tingle.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Put your hand on it,” you commanded. 

With a firm, authoritative tone, you commanded him to comply, leaving him no choice but to obey. The moment his warm, calloused hand made contact with the sensitive skin of his shaft, a jolt of electric pleasure shot through him, igniting a burning desire within. Wrapping his fingers around his impressive, throbbing length, he could feel the blood pulsing through his veins as his breath quickened into short, shallow pants. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He was rock hard now, aching to be touched, to be stimulated further. Your words had elicited a visceral reaction, and as you wondered what it would feel like to have that rigid, engorged member buried deep inside you, a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine. The very thought of him filling you, stretching you, driving you wild with ecstasy was enough to make your core throb with need. You yearned to find out firsthand just how incredible it would feel, to experience the full, throbbing weight of him inside your most intimate depths. 

“Squeeze.” You ordered and he complied. He would gladly obey you, he was under your spell. His hand tightened around himself, eliciting a low groan. The constriction made his hips jerked involuntarily, making his dick slide through his calloused digits. It was the most salacious sound you'd heard in a long time and you wondered if he would come right then. “Slowly,” you warned.

The blood flow to his cock seemed to have woken his brain as well and he started to take his own initiative. He slid a finger through the small bit of precum dripping from the slit and spread it over the head. You watched as he did as you instructed, running his fist up and down his slick cock.

“That's right. Up and down, loosen on up and tighten going down.”

Your mouth was practically watering, as you pushed away the urge to kneel down and take him into your own mouth. Your front teeth bit down on your lower lip to suppress a whimper as you watched his balls rise up with each stroke. You pondered for a moment before deciding that they needed their own attention. 

“Use your other hand.” You pointed in an instructive way. 

The soldier looked down to where your finger was aimed, at the shining titanium prosthetic they had mercilessly fused to his skin. He started lifting his metal palm as you asked, always ready to comply. But something in his face changed. It was subtle, but you could sense the disgust of what you had asked of him. What did he think of the gift that HYDRA had given him?

“No?”

He slowed his pumping to answer you. “Net… no.”

“Fine.” You had never been cruel. Your job was care. “Carry on.”

His eyes flicked back up to yours in an unasked question. Did he want something more? Did you dare ask for something you weren't sure you were ready for?

You watched your soldier, studying his expressions as he pleasured himself. Attention to detail had always been your strong point, reading the flickers of emotions on people's faces and how they told their untold stories, things they wished to keep undisclosed. It wasn’t just his face that told you that he was close to coming undone.

He had increased the speed of his movements, his eyes half closed, his spine arched and pelvis thrusted forwards into his hand, almost mindless in his lust and uncaring of his audience. His reckless abandon seemed to defy all your preconceptions for the Winter Soldier. Everything you had heard about him came down to control, and here he stood before you lost in an almost animalistic appetite with no thought or concern of judgment. You were taken aback by the vulnerability he showed in front of you, sharing this intimate part of him, you’d never seen any documentation of this sort of behavior from an asset before. It felt exhilarating and your body responded to it in kind.

You could feel your arousal pooling between your legs and you pushed your thighs together in an attempt to quell the feeling, only succeeding in creating a thrilling friction that sent a shock through your body. It was instinctive. You reached out, slipping a finger under the rugged ridge of his chin, gently tiling his face up towards yours. As his gaze met yours, his eyes widened, blazing with a mixture of lust and surprise. The blues of his irises had vanished completely, his eyes blackened completely by desire. A low guttural sound came from his throat. Then you understood, he wanted your permission to let go. So you gave it to him.

“Do it. Cum.”

You shivered as his eyes lost their focus, you watched as his cock throbbed expectantly. Your breath shuddered along with his as he made a mess, his cock spurting out what looked like a river of pent up seed, painting the tiles of the shabby bathroom. Your eyes widened as lewd moans fell off his lips in the most sinful manner as he pumped himself as the last and strongest wave of pleasure engulfed him. Goosebumps erupted across your flesh as a shiver traveled down your spine as you watched his jaw slacken and his member soften. He finally looked back up at you.

“Spasibo.” (Thank you) His hoarse voice was barely audible.

“That's quite a mess you've made, Soldat. I hope you aren't expecting me to clean you up.” You turned around and left him to his own devices. 

You tinkered around with his uniform, checking the fastening and leather harness that he usually wore. Waiting for him to return to you. You knew he would and he did. In silence, he followed your instructions, let you dry his hair and paint his face, finally tightening his belt. Just in time as Karpov unceremoniously stormed into the room.

“Soldat!” He pointed at the door, indicating for the asset to move out.

Your heart shattered into pieces, hearing the cruel tone he had used when addressing the Winter Soldier. Your instinctual response was to defend your asset, but you knew better than to go up against Karpov. He would only take your protest as an excuse to punish the soldier.

With one last look, he lowered his head and whispered. “Do svidaniya, Kotyonok.” (Goodbye, Kitten)

Masterlist > Chapter 2

[cyberslvts]

SWEET TALKER || w.maximoff

Summary: In the bustling city of New York, two ambitious entrepreneurs, Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/N, have been fierce competitors in the industry of mechanical engineering. You and Wanda have been at each others throats fighting for the top spot. However, Your opinions on the Scarlet woman change after she approaches you one night with a business proposal.

Warnings: 18+ rivals to lovers, office romance, angst, smut, teasing, oral (r recieving), fingering (r recieving), marking/biting, little twist at the end (i love drama). Wrote this on my flight to Hawaii (teehee)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.1k

Part 2 | Part 3

The names Y/n L/n and Wanda Maximoff had become synonymous with power and dominance in the bustling streets of New York City.

Y/n L/n was the heir to the L/n family empire, a legacy that had its origins in the late 1950s. Back then, L/n technology had been at the forefront of demand, supplying the country with groundbreaking innovations. Their influence was so profound that buildings, schools, and billboards bore their name in honor. They became the embodiment of high society and untouchable success in America.

However, after the passing of Y/ns father, the company’s prestige and reputation went downhill. Soon L/n. Inc was buried by other up-incoming engineers with bigger ideas, faster solutions, and more efficient products. What was once America's most prestigious company was now a forgotten memory.

Until your twenty third birthday arrived, and your father's will stipulated that upon his passing, the empire would be handed over to the eldest L/n child.Taking charge of the company, you unleashed your unrelenting drive. For years, you had observed your father's tireless nights of work, and the dedication he poured into the company. His legacy became your purpose.

Growing up, your life revolved around your father's teachings and his pursuit of excellence. From a young age, he immersed you in the world of science and technology, and you soaked up knowledge like a sponge. As he explained the intricate molecular structure of vibranium, you sat in awe in your high chair, absorbing every word.

From that moment on, you were expected to be nothing short of a carbon copy of your brilliant father. Academics became your priority, and you quickly excelled in the math and science fields. However, this dedication came at a cost – you sacrificed social outings and events during high school, choosing instead to spend your time perfecting your craft and living up to your father's high standards. Long hours were spent hunched over a desk, diving deep into research and innovation. Now, with the responsibility of the company resting on your shoulders, you were determined not to let all your father's hard work go to waste. The thought of allowing untalented and entitled individuals to take over what was built with so much passion and dedication ignited a fierce determination within you.

After inheriting the company 10 years ago you immediately rose through the ranks and L/n. Inc was back on the tabloids as New York's top engineering company. Driven by a relentless ambition, you earned your place as a formidable figure in the engineering landscape. Your brilliant ideas along with your father's teachings allowed you to refine your technology and weapons to perfection. The demand for your products was through the roof and you made millions. High-paying investors from all around the world were coming to New York to see and buy your designs.

Your cold, focused, and reserved nature, along with your rapidly growing empire intimidated potential competitors, which gained you the respect and prestige you needed to uphold the company’s reputation.

You were unstoppable.

That was until Maximoff Industries.

Maximoff Industries was Sokovias most prominent and respected engineering company. Even though they were still relatively new to the field that didn’t stop them from breaking countless records and rising through the ranks Once they decided to relocate to New York. As expected they were quick to put a dent in your sales numbers.

At the heart of it all was Wanda Maximoff – a powerhouse of a woman, displaying a captivating aura that draws people in. While not as cold and detached as you, she maintains a level of professionalism that commands respect and admiration. Some might even describe her as friendly, with a warmth that contrasts the cool exterior of her competitor. But beneath her approachable demeanor lies an unwavering determination and a fierce desire to become the best engineering company the world has ever seen.

Thus, a rivalry was formed. The competition between both of your Companys was electric. Every Month either you or Wanda was ahead. You had your team work themselves until the brink of death coming up with new ideas that would outsell Maximoff Industries. The same trope echoed within Wanda's company, as her team matched your dedication step for step. Late nights and early mornings became the new reality as she dissected every aspect of your technology, searching for any imperfections. Anything she could use to break you down.

The rivalry between your companies intensified with each passing month, setting the business world abuzz with anticipation and excitement. Photos, articles, and Newspapers were being published every month detailing any upcoming projects or interactions you two had with each other. Whenever asked about anything Wanda related your responses were always the same.

“No comment”

“Would rather not say”

“I'm not allowed to say anything”

You always tried to stay out of the media as much as possible, you knew how everything was twisted or taken out of context in order to satisfy their audience. Wanda on the other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of the overwhelming attention. Always happy to give detailed responses to random interviewers on the street and pose for photographers, even though it was clear they were following her. She was basically their only outlet to you since she apparently had no filter when it came to the paparazzi.

“I heard she's working on a new type of AI device that's going to be used in search and rescue missions”

“Of course, we don’t hate each other! Just Friendly competition!”

“She's single, I think. But with her looks, who knows?”

Her latest interview sparked a plethora of theories among the people of New York, The press finding endless entertainment in your perceived connection. Were they secretly working together? Dating? Sleeping together?

Amidst all the success and recognition, there was one area that remained untouched – matters of the heart. Your relentless dedication to the company and your guarded demeanor left little room for personal connections. Love had always seemed like a distraction, and you found comfort in pouring your energy into your work, your empire, and your dreams.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the open-faced magazine on your desk. This is exactly why you stayed out of the press. Once they found out one little snippet of information about you they would twist it around just to fuel their crazy theories. Now you would have to prepare yourself to be bombarded with flashing camera lights and microphones being shoved in your face all while you were just trying to get to your car.

Yet, compared to past allegations, a dating rumor was almost a relief. In October, you'd been accused of murdering your father to claim the business. Another scandal involved pregnancy after declining a drink at a New Year's Eve party. A dating rumor would likely fade within a week.A dating rumor was a piece of cake. You’d been accused of sleeping with a number of people in the past. It would blow over within a week.

Your eyes trained back on the magazine cover “A secret scandalous affair” followed by photos of you and Wanda. Your thumb found its way to your teeth as you leaned back in your big office chair with the magazine in your hand. Your interest starting to peak. At least this rumor was somewhat entertaining for you. Typically the people you were accused of sleeping with were past friends of your father, who were old, fat, or balding.

Amongst your hatred for Wanda, you couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was undeniable. Your eyes gazed upon the photo in the magazine, it was a photoshoot Wanda had done for a sponsorship a few months ago. She wore a dark red suit that fit perfectly around her body, her hair cascaded past her shoulders as she gazed into the camera with a gentle smile. She was posing in the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by giant buildings that framed her gorgeous figure. pedestrians blurred in the background which only highlighted her powerful presence. Her bright green eyes stared right back at you as you continued to observe the photograph. Her arms, legs, nose, lips-

“What are you reading?”

You were startled out of your daze, quickly shutting the magazine and sitting up straight in your seat to see Natasha raising an eyebrow and giving you a confused look.

“Nothing. just these ridiculous magazines I keep getting sent” you replied, moving a stack of papers over the cover.

Natasha suspiciously observed your rather shaken-up demeanor as she was expecting your serious deadpan face when she walked in not you ogling at a photo of Wanda Maximoff “Ok. Well… just wanted to tell you the monthly report came back in and once again we are second to Maximoff, by 5 sales this time”

“What. Are you sure? The last time I checked…” Your focus trailed off as you began clicking through different files on your computer.

“I'm sure. It's that new drone she just released. Stark Industries just bought ten of them” Natasha's hands were now in her pockets, observing your worried yet focused expression which was glued to the screen of your computer. Natasha was the Vice president of L/N Inc. And you owed most of your success to the redhead. She was the backbone of the company and shared the same passions and desires as you.

Those weeks were it seemed like you were working yourself into a grave in order to meet upcoming deadlines, She was right by your side, writing notes, crunching numbers, filling out spreadsheets and even correcting the mistakes you rarely made. She kept all of your employees at the top of their game when you weren't there to bark orders at everyone, and you were almost positive you and the rest of the company would be a chaotic mess if it weren't for her.

“We need to move up the timeline for the AI robot release if we want to get ahead next month” Natasha was now in front of your desk handing you a blue folder “This is a new updated timeline for the project. I know it's faster than we planned but I think if we can get this AI out before September we have a chance at getting ahead of Maximoff for the October reports”

You sighed as you looked over the papers “Thank you, Nat. I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you”

She gave you a sympathetic nod before turning to exit your office. You felt the stress build in your stomach as you read over the new timeline. It was almost a month ahead of schedule, and you were still a third of the way from finishing the final project.

You were starting to get really sick of Wanda Maximoff.

————————-

The sounds of keyboard clacking and rustling papers were the only things heard in your large office tower, The building was eerily dark, the only light coming from the conference room on the 27th floor. Your back ached and your eyes felt heavy from hours of being hunched over your desk.

You finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms above your head and looking out the big glass windows that overlooked the city, only to be met with the darkness of night and speckles of light illuminating from other buildings. You blinked in surprise checking your watch. 1:46 am. Have you really been here that long?

You sighed and looked at the sprawled-out papers that almost covered the entire conference table, you decided to migrate down to the conference room since your tiny desk wasn’t big enough for this chaotic mess. The situation was growing more and more impossible with each passing minute. Despite brainstorming a multitude of strategies, the looming project deadline for September remained a stark reminder of your impending failure.

Frustration gnawed at you, a tempestuous emotion ignited by the mere thought of Wanda outperforming you in the upcoming monthly report.

Defeat was not an option. Sleep was a distant memory, and your social life had become a casualty of your unwavering commitment to your work. With a determined huff, you settled back into your seat, your brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the multitude of charts, graphs, and spreadsheets demanding your attention. The focus of your thoughts was abruptly interupted by a gentle knock, followed by the slow creaking of your office door.

“Natasha. I already told you I would be staying late” you spoke without looking up from the documents in your hand.

A melodious chuckle filled the air, accompanied by a voice you weren't expecting. “You know, you've been holed up in this tower for so long, I'm starting to think you're avoiding me.

Your gaze immediately shot up once you recognized the sultry voice you had become all to familiar with. There she stood, Wanda Maximoff in all her glory. She wore a loose dark red blouse, tucked into her long black slacks. She must have come straight from her office.

“How did you get in here?” you abandoned the papers, your focus now being shifted to the tall redhead standing in the middle of your conference room.

“Micheal let me in, told him I had important business to discuss with Miss L/N” she replied, removing a hand from her pocket to hold up a day pass badge she must have received from the janitor.

“Well, it looks like I will have to talk to Micheal about letting strangers into the building in the middle of the night” You were beginning to get more frustrated, you had enough to deal with as it is.

“Strangers? Please. me and you both know were obsessed with each other” she said with a cocky tone, only fueling the burning fire in your stomach. She was right of course. The rivalry between you and Wanda was more than just professional competition; it was an obsession that fueled both of your careers. you couldn't count the endless nights you spent researching the Scarlett woman, Watching every interview you could find of her, reading every article. Trying to find any source of information you could use to take her down.

Wanda, too, was caught up in the same game. But unlike her, you were a master at guarding your private life, granting only a glimpse into your world through one or two interviews or photographs a month – sometimes three, if the mood struck you. You were excellent at avoiding the paparazzi, a talent wanda was not fond of. She craved to know the person that was always at the front of her mind, the person that had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past 5 years. The secrecy of Y/n L/N ignited a flame of curiosity and desire inside her. Even though your office buildings were only 2 blocks from each other, she felt like you were on an entirely different planet.

Your rivalry had become a dance of fascination, a battle not only for success in the business world but also for the chance to understand the person behind the titles and achievements. The world may see you as rivals, but deep down, you both knew that there was something more.

“Don't flatter yourself” you spoke while rolling your eyes your patience was getting thinner and the smirk on Wanda's face was not helping. “What do you want wanda? why are you here”

“I wanted to see how you were,” she said, the sincerity evident in her words, this was true. The demands of your rapidly growing empire caused you to withdraw from the outside world. You had been locked away in your office day and night, immersed in your work. You were going out less and less, missing out on the countless business events where Wanda had the privilege of catching a glimpse of you.

Although she grew accustomed to only seeing your presence once and a while at board meetings, exclusive events, or walking through the streets of New York, she was beginning to get frustrated. And a little worried about your growing absence.

You scoffed “Im fine, thank you” turning your attention back to your work, Picking up your abandoned papers and tapping them against the desk to shape them into a neat pile “Now as you can see I am very busy, so if there is nothing else I can help you wi-”

“I have a business proposal for you” she confidently spoke, meeting your cold stare, watching your face briefly contort into confusion before returning back to your usual cold stare.

You narrowed your eyes at her, inspecting her face for any traces of sarcasm. To your surprise you found none. “What are you talking about?”

She watched as you raised a hand to move your reading glasses to the top of your head. Her eyes glossed over at the sight of your hair pushed back, exposing more of your beautiful face.

“Im sure you've heard of stark industries” Wanda spoke, you shifted, of course, you had heard of stark industries.No one had heard of Tony Stark until last year. Within his first year, he had already broken twice as many records as you did when you were first starting out and had already risen to the number four spot in the country. Uncomfortably close to your rank. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wanda's heels clacking on the floor as she made her war closer to you. Now Standing just a few feet from you “He offered me a partnership deal.”

Your face fell and your body froze. This was not good. If Tony and wanda were to partner up, that would be it for you. Panic started to bubble in the pit of your stomach. this news put a crack in the facade you were desperately trying to uphold. Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself watching your serious and cold demeanor crumble in a matter of seconds. “But I turned it down”

“What?” You blinked, making sure you heard her correctly “Have you lost your mind? What could have possibly possessed you to make such a stupid decision.” of course you were immensely relieved that she had declined the offer, however, you couldn't stop the frustration at wanda for turning down such a rare opportunity, An opportunity you would have killed to have. “If you came here just to rub this in my face-”

“I think you and I should partner up”

You were once again at a loss for words. Wanda stepped forward to take a seat closest to you. On one of the many large black swivel chairs in the conference room. “I want you. y/n.” You felt yourself heat up at her choice of words. “Tony's proposal got me thinking. You and I have been the owners of the 2 most successful engineering companies for almost a decade now. I've seen what you're capable of, Y/n. Your innovative ideas, and your dedication to your team, it's admirable. And I can't help but wonder what we could achieve together." Wanda continued, her voice gentle yet confident.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sunk in. Joining forces? You never thought you'd hear those words coming from Wanda's lips. The tension between your companies had always been palpable, and yet here she was, proposing a partnership

The conference room seemed to fade away as you considered her proposal. Working together with Wanda would undoubtedly be challenging, but the potential for greatness was undeniable. The combined expertise, resources, and talent of your two companies could create an engineering powerhouse, one that could outshine any new competition that arose.

As you took a moment to gather your thoughts, Wanda leaned in closer, her hand moving to rest on your knee "Think about it, y/n. I believe we could not only dominate the market but also push the boundaries of what's possible in engineering."

You narrowed your eyes at the woman sitting in front of you “Wanda, where is all of this coming from? you and I have been at each other throats for the past five years and now all the sudden you want to work together?”

Wanda's demeanor shifted, her eyes pierced straight into yours as she leaned forward to take one of your hands in her own. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't ignore the rush of emotions welling up inside.

“Y/N. you are truly brilliant. Your designs are impeccable and You have an undeniable talent that I have been trying to replicate for years.” her hold on your hand tightened. You fell speechless at this confession. A sudden warmth spread throughout your chest. You searched Wanda's eyes for any trace of dishonesty but were only met with a look of raw truth. “Aren't you tired of fighting? wouldn't it feel good to build something great together”

You fell silent as your brain tried to formulate a response. You really weren't expecting this “There's no way it would work, we hate each other”

Wandas eyes softened “Oh, baby, I could never hate you” she spoke, and you felt something twist inside you at her sudden use of a pet name. “sure your constant desire to be better than me gets on my nerves from time to time. But hate? Never.” the sincerity in her words brought a sense of relief and curiosity to you.

The proximity between the two of you was getting thinner. Wanda was now so close your knees were touching and the smell of her expensive perfume flooded your senses.

“Do you want to know what I think” Wanda questioned with a slight smirk on her lips. You hummed in response, the lids of your eyes relaxing as your mind focused on observing the features of her face. “I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do”

“And what makes you say that” You leaned in closer

Wanda's eyes went up and down your body taking in the lovely sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, having undone the first few buttons before she arrived. “I think you want me, and that frustrates you” There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“That's ridiculous” You slightly pulled away, turning your head to avoid her burning gaze. Wanda only moved in closer, putting a hand on your thigh “Oh no I don't think it is. I think deep down, you crave for me as much as I crave you.” you clenched your jaw in embarrassment, your face felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, She stood up, her hands moving to place themselves on the arms of your chair, hovering over you, enveloping you in her presence. “Truth is, you make me so angry y/n” You turned to look up at Wanda.

“I've thought about you almost every day for the past 5 years. I've thought about every possible way I could breakdown those walls you set up, find any crack just so I could see who you really are.” you felt the ends of her long hair brush against the apples of your cheeks, leaning down further to rest her knee right in between you thighs, pushing your back further into the chair.

“I don't like how I can’t get to you, I hate how you shut me out.” Wanda brought a hand to your chin, angling your face upwards to stare right back into her emerald eyes. “I hate that I can't have you.”

your eyes softened, reaching out to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek. despite all the chaos that was you and Wanda, you felt a sense of sorrow illuminating from her. You couldn't help the tug you felt in your heart.

Her knee between your thighs sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. The moment was electric, and the air seemed charged with unspoken desires. As she held your chin, her thumb gently caressing your cheek, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes, and it mirrored your own.

“Trust me, Wanda, I've always been yours,” you think in some twisted way it was true. You had practically built your empire on the dedication of her. You knew every detail about her, from the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the shimmer she got in her eyes just before she was about to tell a joke. You had invasively studied her for 5 long years. You went to bed dreaming of fiery red hair and woke up thinking about sea-green eyes. no other person had your attention like Wanda did.

Wanda's eyes darkened, her gaze moving down towards your lips. You felt all of the tension from the past 5 years building up in the room. What was about to happen was inevitable. You and Wanda both knew it.

Finally, Wanda leaned down to press her lips against yours, she started off slow, basking in the softness of your lips. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency overcame you both, and you could feel the walls that once separated you crumble.

Without a second thought, Wanda effortlessly lifted you off your chair and onto the desk. The sensation of being hoisted up caused you to gasp, to which Wanda took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. Wanda's arms held you securely as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist. You moaned when you felt the hard metal of her belt press against your clothed pussy.

You suddenly pulled back, Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and tried to chase after your lips, “Wanda. You know if we do this…things will change” you breathlessly spoke, your tone laced with caution but also lust.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know” Wanda quickly responded, attempting to reconnect your lips.

You put a hand on her chest, stopping her from devouring you “Things could get messy… and complicated”

All of a sudden, Wanda pushed you so your back laid flat against the mess of papers, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. Using one hand she grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as she held you firmly against the desk “Y/n. I know. Trust me, I have thought about this a lot.”

You didn't have a chance to respond before Wanda smashed her lips back into yours, she used her other hand to run up the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. She moved her lips down to the edge of your jaw and then your neck. “Your so perfect” she mumbled against the soft skin of your neck.

Her fingers worked to undo the buttons of your blouse, practically ripping it from your body and tossing it to the side. Her mouth returned to your body, her teeth nipping at your collarbones as she moves her hand underneath you to unhook your bra.

You couldn't help but moan out when her mouth enclosed around one of your hardened nipples. With her hand still binding your wrists above your head you could only arch up your chest further into her mouth, letting out a pleasure-filled groan when she used her other hand to pinch a roll your other nipple between her fingers.

“You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you like this.” She groaned into your chest, Sending vibrations into your skin.

She finally let go of your wrists bringing her hand down to cup your pussy, now able to freely use your hands you tangled them in the mess of red hair that was splayed all over your chest.

Using her fingers she swiftly moved your panties to the side.

Wanda almost lost it when she pressed her hand against your pussy, feeling your wetness coat her fingertips. Her fingers ran up and down your slit, before she slipped them inside you, curling them right against your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Wanda” you harshly bit your lip, throwing your head back onto the desk. Wanda's fingers continued to pump in and out of you, setting a perfect rhythmic pace. You struggled to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, desperately attempting to hold onto any sense of dignity you had left amidst the overwhelming pleasure. However, It became clear that Wanda was determined to unravel you completely at this very moment.

“No, don't, I need to hear you.” Wanda breathlessly begged, momentarily pausing her fingers, causing you to let out a whine and buck your hips up to move her fingers deeper inside you. Surrendering, You moved your hand from your mouth, and as a reward she resumed her fingers, this time using her thumb to circle your clit. You were beginning to lose yourself in her, your senses becoming overwhelmed with Wanda. You wanted this feeling to last forever, to savor the feeling of her inside you.

Your moans were begining to get louder, Your jaw went slack against the side of her face as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you at a ridiculous pace.

Wanda watched in pure adoration, your gorgeous face contorting in pleasure, your hips jumping up in fits to meet her hand, A rush of pride swelled up inside of her, knowing she could get this reaction out of you. y/n l/n. The daunting woman feared by half of the engineering industry. The same woman whom others could only dream of catching a mere glimpse of was now falling apart underneath her. Wanda couldn't help but want to be the only person who saw you in this intimate way. The thought of being the one who could unravel the layers of the formidable y/n l/n ignited a fiery wave of possessiveness within her.

“You're doing so good, baby” Wanda praised, returning her lips to your neck where she sunk her teeth into the softness of your skin and began to suck. Your eyes suddenly shot open and tugged on her hair causing Wanda to let out a groan, vibrating into your skin.

“Wanda don't, people will see” You were panting at this point, you could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any given moment.

“I want them to see, I want everybody to know that you are mine.” her tone was assertive and dominating, her mouth never left the skin of your neck where she left behind deep red marks that you were sure would ache in the morning.

Her sudden possessiveness made you throb. A thrilling wave of desire surged through your body. Everything about Wanda was undeniably intoxicating – her confidence, her intelligence, the way she held herself with such magnetic allure. The way she looked at you with those intense, emerald eyes, the way her hands traced tenderly over your skin and the way she claimed you as hers ignited a primal response within you.

You surrendered to her, throwing your head back to give her complete access to you. her fingers just felt so good and her soft lips attacking your neck sent electric jolts throughout your body.

“God, fuck, wanda im gonna cum”

“Yeah? gonna be a good girl and make a mess all over my fingers?” Wandas fingers moved faster in you, her thumb moved to put more pressure on your clit, encouraging you to reach your climax. You buried your face in the crook of Wandas neck, biting into her shoulder as you fell into your orgasm, shaking and writhing against Wanda's tight hold.

“That's it, baby, keep going” wanda was moaning into your ear, feeling your wet walls tense and spasm around her fingers.

Wanda slowed down the pace of her fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm before gently pulling them out of you.

She placed soothing kisses over the bruises she had created on your neck, she kissed her way up your body until she met your lips. You sighed into the gentle feel of her lips against yours, basking in the feeling of your post-orgasmic glow.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, more than alright” you giggled, wanda smiled against your lips, holding your body flush against her. She pulled back to take in the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and red, a beautiful blush adorned your cheeks, and your chest was rising and falling with every heavy breath you took in. Your hair, which was now nothing more than a disheveled mess, cascaded past your shoulders, framing your face in a captivating way.

“Absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. Her admiration evident in her voice

But before you could fully revel in the moment, your intimate bubble was abruptly burst by a loud knock on the door of the conference room. Both you and Wanda shot up, eyes wide with panic rising in you.

“Miss L/N, are you still in there? I need to vacuum before I head out for the night.” You immediately recognized the voice as the company's janitor Micheal—the one who had triggered the events of the night by letting Wanda into the building.

“Yes, Michael! I'll be out in a second!" Your voice came out slightly higher than normal as you swiftly pushed Wanda away, hastily pulling your skirt back down to your knees and frantically searching for your discarded top. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, trying to regain your composure as the interruption jolted you back to reality.

Wanda, seemingly amused by your frazzled state, observed you with a playful glint in her eye. You felt a rush of vulnerability as you ran around the room, both arms instinctively covering your chest to shield yourself from Wanda's piercing gaze.

As you searched for your top, she reached for the silk blouse that had been resting on the head of a swivel chair and offered it to you. You reached out to take it, but just as your fingers brushed against the fabric, Wanda pulled her arm back, causing you to stumble and fall into her embrace. She held you close, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. In the closeness of the moment, her words rang in your ears, reminding you of the business proposal she had made earlier.

"I want you to consider my offer, y/n," she whispered softly, her breath tickling your ear. "I meant what I said before. I truly believe we could achieve great things together."

The wave of embarrassment mixed with the excitement of the moment as you tried to cover up your exposed front from Wanda's lingering gaze. “I will. But can we please discuss this later?”

Wanda gave you a satisfied grin, handing you your shirt before stepping away to give you some privacy. As you swiftly turned around, you threw your shirt over your shoulders to cover the exposed skin of your back, and your fingers worked to fasten the buttons of your blouse. She observed you for a moment, taking in the sight of you as you composed yourself.

Deciding to take her leave, Wanda's heels clacked against the floor as she headed towards the exit of the conference room. However, with your back turned, you didn't notice her discreetly slipping a little red folder under her arm.

Unbeknownst to you, that folder contained the new timeline for the AI release, a pivotal piece of information that could shape the future of your company. In the midst of the intimate encounter, Wanda had managed to seize an opportunity to further her goals, using the moment to her advantage.

As she made her exit, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes, knowing that she had just played her cards strategically. The rivalry between your companies still burned fiercely, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. With the information concealed in that little red folder, Wanda was one step closer to gaining an edge in the competitive race.

[ravensliterature]

Sentinels' Siege

A/N: Yeah, it has definitely been a minute. Saw the new X-Men 97 show and got inspired. Please enjoy this!

pairing: Magneto (Erik) x GN!Reader

warnings: Character death

w/c: 784

Prompt: The reader here has forcefield powers. The sentinel is attaching Genosha and the reader saves Erik at the expense of their own life.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the heart of Genosha, amidst the ruins of a once-thriving nation, the sentinel's ominous presence cast a shadow over the land. Its metallic form, a symbol of oppression and fear, loomed tall against the crimson sky, its mechanical eyes scanning the desolate landscape with ruthless efficiency. But amidst the chaos and fear, you stood as a beacon of hope, your powers of forcefield manipulation shielding not only Magneto but also civilians of Genosha from the sentinel's relentless assault.

Two spheres of energy shimmered in the air, each pulsating with the strength of your will. One enveloped Magneto, the other surrounded you and the civilians seeking refuge within your protective embrace. It was a delicate balance, maintaining both shields amidst the onslaught of the sentinel's attacks, but you refused to falter, driven by the unwavering resolve to protect those you loved at any cost.

As the sentinel unleashed its barrage of energy blasts, your forcefields flickered and crackled with energy, absorbing the brunt of the attacks. Beside you, Magneto watched in awe and gratitude, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of your unwavering determination. But beneath the surface, there was a surge of panic within him as he witnessed your struggle to maintain both shields.

He reached out to you, his voice a plea amidst the chaos. "Y/N, my love, you mustn't—"

But his words were lost in the cacophony of battle as your forcefields strained to their limits. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to break through your defenses and claim you all.

Flashbacks of your time together flooded your mind, each memory a bittersweet reminder of the bond you shared. You remembered the first time he had entrusted you with his secrets, the way his eyes softened as he spoke of a future where mutants could live without fear. You remembered the stolen moments of tenderness, the quiet nights spent gazing at the stars, finding solace in each other's company amidst the turmoil of their world.

But amidst the memories, there was the harsh reality of the present—the sentinel's relentless assault threatening to overwhelm your defenses. Your forcefields flickered and waned under the strain, cracks forming along their surfaces as they struggled to hold back the tide of destruction. Yet still, you refused to yield, your determination unyielding even in the face of insurmountable odds.

Magneto watched in silent anguish as you stood as the bulwark against the storm, his heart heavy with the weight of your sacrifice. He reached out, his hands grasping at empty air as you fell, the light fading from your eyes even as his world plunged into darkness.

In that final moment, as the sentinel loomed over Genosha victorious, Magneto could only cling to the memories of the love you shared—a love that had been both his greatest strength and his deepest sorrow. But though you were gone, your spirit would forever be etched in his heart, a guiding light in the darkness that now enveloped him.

And as he gazed upon the devastated landscape of Genosha, a vow ignited within him—a vow to carry on the fight in your honor, to ensure that your sacrifice would not be in vain. For in giving your life to protect others, you had shown him the true meaning of heroism—a selflessness that transcended even death itself.

But amidst the chaos and despair, there was one final moment of connection—a silent exchange of love that echoed across the battlefield. As the sentinel's onslaught reached its crescendo, engulfing you in a blinding blaze of light, you locked eyes with Magneto one last time.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around them fading into insignificance as you mouthed the words that echoed the depths of your soul, "I love you."

Though no sound escaped your lips, the sentiment rang loud and clear in the silence of the battlefield. It was a declaration of devotion, a testament to the bond that had transcended the trials and tribulations they had faced together.

Magneto's heart clenched with a mixture of grief and gratitude as he returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. And as the light consumed you, engulfing you in its brilliant embrace, he could only watch in silent agony as your form disappeared amidst the chaos.

But though your physical presence had been extinguished, your love would forever burn bright within his heart, a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped him. And as he stood amidst the ruins of Genosha, a solitary figure against the backdrop of devastation, he vowed to carry on your legacy—a legacy of love, sacrifice, and unwavering strength in the face of adversity.

[schoenpepper]

A stupid person, a stupid merman

Intro: Floyd is veryyyy close to bashing someone’s head in. It might be you! Lucky~

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread

Masterlist

Jade's Birthday Countdown

Floyd is in a bad mood.

Usually, being in a bad mood means he’s ready to throw hands at anyone. Not like most of ‘em have the means to fight back, and he doesn’t care if they do fight back and he’s the one that gets beat up.

Actually, that might be kinda fun.

Much more fun than this bullshit, at least.

He’s stuck in the middle of a dumb human and a dumb eel merman. Seriously, why don’t the two of you just sit together?!

He watches you giggle and blush at some corny crap Jade’s spouting, and Jade himself is almost tripping over his own words in his stupid attempt to flirt with you. On the other side of the booth, Crabby and Mackerel were arguing over something on the menu, and Azul was muttering calculations on prices and cost efficiency under his breath.

“If you two fucks wanted to go on a date,” Floyd grumbles, “you could have just gone out on your own. Why drag us along? I’m bored. This is boring. This is annoying.”

As if on cue, you and your duo of dunces sputter out in shock. Jade purses his lips, the tips of his ears an uncharacteristic red, whereas Azul seems to be swallowing down his laughter.

“This isn’t, I didn’t—”

“Why, Floyd, Y/N and I simply wanted to enjoy our time with our friends today. Is that too much to ask, dear brother?”

Floyd grimaces, “Dear brother someone else because I can’t be bothered anymore. Go kiss already! Everyone knows you two wanna fuck so get going. I’m outta here.”

He stands up and walks out of the restaurant, the Heartslabyul duo and Azul in tow.

“Now Floyd, that wasn’t very nice,” Azul sighs, “it’s rude to spill Jade’s feelings for them without considering whether or not the both of them were ready.”

“Please, you just wanted to see Jade with that dumb dopey look on his face.”

Azul smirks.

“I mean, I can’t blame Floyd senpai,” Ace shrugs, “they’ve been toeing around each other for a really long time. Even Deuce knows they’ve got the hots for each other, and he’s dense as a rock.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask, I’m bored,” Floyd runs over to a nearby arcade, “look! There’s an octopus plushie! Let’s grab it and use it as a centerpiece for the lounge hehe~”

[yuesya]

A Fyrefly Type-V is more colloquially known as a Personal Escort model. Their primary purpose, in addition to contributing to the war effort against the invading Swarm, is to carry out the role of a royal guard. To protect Her Majesty, Titania, Queen of the Iron Cavalry.

“More than anyone else, Titania’s safety is paramount,” their creators tell them. “For the glory of Glamoth! Dedicate yourselves to your Queen, even at the cost of your lives.”

Yes. They will. A chorus of assent rises from their collective throats in unanimous, simultaneous answer.

… AR-1368 knows that she is fortunate. Overwhelmingly, the vast majority of the Iron Cavalry do not have the opportunity of seeing Her Majesty in person. After all, the Swarm Propagates endlessly among the stars, and there is always a pressing need for new Knights to rise and promptly take their places upon the battlefield –sometimes even straight from their incubation pods, when critical circumstances call for it. What little contact the Knights have with Her Majesty is through the quiet ideas and impressions that are sent to them, the telepathic directives that Her Majesty guides the Iron Cavalry with.

That, and the dreams.

… But for Personal Escort models, who are specifically designed to protect their Queen, they also receive the honor of being permitted to accompany Her Majesty. To remain in her presence, in a more physical sense of things.

The first time that AR-1368 sees Her Majesty is exactly a week after she steps outside of the dark, sterile incubation chambers.

It’s…

Indescribable, the feeling of wonder and awe that one feels when standing in the presence of the Queen. To gaze upon Her Majesty and know what devotion is. But at the same time, there’s also something that’s… that’s not quite…

…

… AR-1368 doesn’t know how to articulate it, this strange feeling that stirs inside her when she sees Her Majesty still and unmoving, suspended within a glowing blue liquid in the glass chamber. There is some nameless emotion that constricts her throat for a brief moment, but she cannot put a name to it. AR-1364 can’t quite decipher it, either, and he’s the most verbose and expressive unit of their batch.

AR-1368 doesn’t understand.

… But the confusion is swiftly replaced by wonder, and a faint nervousness-excitement when Her Majesty turns her attention to them. She greets them easily, her presence a cold, gentle brush upon their minds. Not intruding, never intruding, but a steady sea of calm, crested with an ever-faint flicker of curiosity.

Hello.

There is a strong juxtaposition between the lovely, melodic voice AR-1368 hears in her mind, and the harsh, robotic voice that echoes out in their surroundings at the same time. One that’s almost a little… jarring.

“Hello to you as well, Titania. As of today, AR-1364, AR-1367, and AR-1368 will be added to your personal retinue,” the Chief Scientist said. “Improvements have been made to the newest iteration of the Type-Vs.”

What of the old guard?

“Unfortunately, they’re a complete loss,” the Chief Scientist responds. “Most were destroyed completely during the evacuation process from the previous facility. The survivors… suffered too much damage. Our scientists tried their best, but it was determined that it would be more efficient to salvage usable remains instead of–”

The lights in the room flicker, suddenly unstable. For a moment, everything is cold.

The Chief Scientist frowns. “Titania?”

… It may be efficient in terms of resources, but experience is more important than raw materials, and far more difficult to replace.

In the surrounding room, the Queen’s voice is cold and robotic. But within her mind, AR-1368 can feel the glacial tone seep through her, the Queen’s cold displeasure chilling to the bone. She is not the only one; beside her, she catches a glimpse of AR-1364 flinching slightly.

It’s good that the Chief Scientist does not catch this break in formation, because AR-1364 would be sent for retraining otherwise. But the hoarfrost cold recedes immediately, and a phantom warmth washes over them, tinged with a faint note of something… apologetic.

Is that… Her Majesty?

“Titania,” the Chief Scientist says, voice infinitely patient in a way that indicates this is a topic that has been discussed multiple times before, “We can always make more of them. Focus on directing the war effort, and we will devote our efforts towards providing you with all the Knights you need in order to carve a future for Glamoth beyond the abhorrent Swarm.”

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

I'm fed up with my job.

A colleague is off on bereavement leave, indefinitely, which is of course awful... and I've been asked to cover her. Indefinitely.

I'm sorry, but... NO.

Why the fuck should I work two people's jobs while being paid for one? Why am I being guilted into this? Why are any of us asked to?

You know what would make me want to? A pay rise. Some kind, ANY kind, of benefit whatsoever for doing so.

This is about the fourth time it's been asked of me this year and I'm just fuckin done with it at this point.

I work in healthcare and it is not taking care of your employees to make these kinds of asks of them. I tried, the first couple times, thinking I might get some kind of boost, a better chance of getting a better job or salary out of it if I showed willing to work, but no. Nada.

Well, I'm fed up, and now I'm even thinking about leaving. They've taken advantage of my good nature multiple times and seem to believe they can just keep on doing so.

And I reckon this is happening all over different industries in the world of work. In order to try and save some money in the short term, business owners and leaders are just shifting the work of cover on to the other employees, for no extra reward or recompense.

Well I'm sorry, but do you know what that actually creates from those employees? Resentment. I resent being treated this way. I resent that you disrespect me enough to ask me to do two people's jobs for one person's salary. And I won't take it. And then you'll have to go through an expensive recruitment process and train someone new to do this job as well as I do it from step 1. How's that for your efficiency? How's that for a cost saving?

[centrally-unplanned]

At least California's Proposition 33 failed:

This is real Ash-catnip, I won't lie. There are "okay" forms of rent control, but notably California already has them - generally there is a cap on increasing rents year on year more than 5% + the inflation rate. These do make sense as a compromise between efficiency and the human cost of constant dislocation, and still allow for broad price increases to signal demand for investment. Is a little restrictive but I won't complain.

Otherwise most "strong" rent control is really bad for reasons I have said many times, so a repeal of a state law that restricts it would be bad. But it would also ban the state government from passing any other restrictions on local rent control! Completely topic independent this is just an awful idea, statutorily limiting state capacity in pursuit of the false god of "localism". As always, local government is an illusion - the relevant stakeholders for this or that locality do not live in that locality by huge margins as everyone is part of a huge, interconnected economic network. Governance decisions should be made at the level of the network, not the random locality that just wants to advantage its own sliver at the expense of the whole. This is exactly the kind of piecemeal vetocracy NIMBYism that is America's worst governance trait; if the state gov wants to pass a bill, let them pass the bill. Don't like it, vote for someone else.

Don't love some of the other prop outcomes but this one was a clear win for good governance and affordable housing.

[jcmarchi]

Llama 3.1: Meta’s Most Advanced Open-Source AI Model – Everything You Need to Know

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/llama-3-1-metas-most-advanced-open-source-ai-model-everything-you-need-to-know/

Llama 3.1: Meta’s Most Advanced Open-Source AI Model – Everything You Need to Know

Meta has unveiled Llama 3.1, its latest and most advanced large language model, marking a significant leap in AI capabilities and accessibility. This new release aligns with Meta’s commitment to making AI openly accessible, as emphasized by Mark Zuckerberg, who believes that open-source AI is beneficial for developers, Meta, and society at large.

To introduce Llama 3.1, Mark Zuckerberg wrote a detailed blog post titled “Open Source AI Is the Path Forward,” outlining his vision for the future of AI. He draws a parallel between the evolution of Unix to Linux and the current trajectory of AI, emphasizing that open-source AI will ultimately lead the industry. Zuckerberg highlights the advantages of open-source AI, including customization, cost efficiency, data security, and avoiding vendor lock-in.

He believes that open-source development fosters innovation, creates a robust ecosystem, and ensures equitable access to AI technology. Zuckerberg also addresses concerns about safety, advocating that open-source AI, through transparency and community scrutiny, can be safer than closed models such as OpenAI’s GPT models.

Meta’s commitment to open-source AI aims to build the best experiences and services, free from the constraints of closed ecosystems. He concludes by inviting developers and organizations to join in building a future where AI benefits everyone, promoting collaboration and continuous advancement.

Key Takeaways

Open Accessibility Commitment: Meta continues its dedication to open-source AI, aiming to democratize access and innovation.

Enhanced Capabilities: Llama 3.1 boasts a context length expansion to 128K, supports eight languages, and introduces Llama 3.1 405B, the first frontier-level open-source AI model.

Unmatched Flexibility and Control: Llama 3.1 405B offers state-of-the-art capabilities comparable to leading closed-source models, enabling new workflows such as synthetic data generation and model distillation.

Comprehensive Ecosystem Support: With over 25 partners, including major tech companies like AWS, NVIDIA, and Google Cloud, Llama 3.1 is ready for immediate use across various platforms.

Llama 3.1 Overview

State-of-the-Art Capabilities

Llama 3.1 405B is designed to rival the best AI models available today. It excels in general knowledge, steerability, math, tool use, and multilingual translation. This model is expected to drive innovation in fields like synthetic data generation and model distillation, offering unprecedented opportunities for growth and exploration.

Upgraded Models

The release includes enhanced versions of the 8B and 70B models, which now support multiple languages and have extended context lengths of up to 128K. These improvements enable advanced applications such as long-form text summarization, multilingual conversational agents, and coding assistants.

Open-Source Availability

True to its open-source philosophy, Meta is making these models available for download on Meta and Hugging Face. Developers can utilize these models for a variety of applications, including improving other models, and can run them in diverse environments, from on-premises to cloud and local deployments.

Model Evaluations and Architecture

Extensive Evaluations

Llama 3.1 was rigorously tested on over 150 benchmark datasets in multiple languages and compared against leading models like GPT-4 and Claude 3.5 Sonnet. The results show that Llama 3.1 is competitive across a wide range of tasks, cementing its place among top-tier AI models.

Advanced Training Techniques

Training the 405B model involved processing over 15 trillion tokens using more than 16,000 H100 GPUs. Meta adopted a standard decoder-only transformer model with iterative post-training procedures, including supervised fine-tuning and direct preference optimization, to achieve high-quality synthetic data and superior performance.

Efficient Inference

To support large-scale production inference, Llama 3.1 models were quantized from 16-bit to 8-bit numerics, reducing computational requirements and allowing the model to run efficiently on a single server node.

Instruction and Chat Fine-Tuning

Meta focused on enhancing the model’s ability to follow detailed instructions and maintain high levels of safety. This involved several rounds of alignment on top of the pre-trained model, using synthetic data generation and rigorous data processing techniques to ensure high-quality outputs across all capabilities.

The Llama System

Llama 3.1 is part of a broader system designed to work with various components, including external tools. Meta aims to provide developers with the flexibility to create custom applications and behaviors. The release includes Llama Guard 3 and Prompt Guard for enhanced security and safety.

Llama Stack API

Meta is releasing a request for comment on the Llama Stack API, a standard interface to facilitate the use of Llama models by third-party projects. This initiative aims to streamline interoperability and lower barriers for developers and platform providers.

Building with Llama 3.1 405B

Llama 3.1 405B offers extensive capabilities for developers, including real-time and batch inference, supervised fine-tuning, model evaluation, continual pre-training, retrieval-augmented generation (RAG), function calling, and synthetic data generation. On day one, developers can start building with these advanced features, supported by partners like AWS, NVIDIA, and Databricks.

Try Llama 3.1 Today

Llama 3.1 models are available for download and immediate development. Meta encourages the community to explore the potential of these models and contribute to the growing ecosystem. With robust safety measures and open-source access, Llama 3.1 is set to drive the next wave of AI innovation.

Conclusion

Llama 3.1 represents a significant milestone in the evolution of open-source AI, offering unparalleled capabilities and flexibility. Meta’s commitment to open accessibility ensures that more people can benefit from AI advancements, fostering innovation and equitable technology deployment. With Llama 3.1, the possibilities for new applications and research are vast, and Meta looks forward to the groundbreaking developments the community will achieve with this powerful tool.

Readers who wish to learn more should read Mark Zuckerberg’s detailed blog post.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Island Assistant Noah AU, where Noah got himself eliminated on purpose, but Chris + Chef somehow figure it out... The day after Noah's elimination, everyone is surprised to see that Noah's back... Chris reveals that inside the contestants' contracts: "Anyone who gets eliminated on purpose, will become Chris Mcclean's Assistant."... And Noah has to be decent at his job, or he won't get paid... Noah stays Chris' Assistant all throughout Island, Action and World Tour! 🌎 (I'm sorry if I'm asking this twice; I don't remember asking this!)

OKAY!! SO!!

You did already ask me this and I did have an answer in the works to the original ask, but because Tumblr's mobile app is my number one enemy, I accidentally posted it. So, really, it's super fortunate that you asked this twice!

But! Because I'm a smart cookie, I took some screenshots of what I had typed out in the original post, so I can just re-type it out here and carry on! (I'd post just the screenshots, but they're full of typos because I'm just awful at typing on a phone.)

So, here's my answer:

Yes!! Give me a Noah who thought he was being so sneaky and cunning by intentionally getting himself eliminated, only for it to backfire horrendously!

The producers would've known that the contestants were being sent to Camp Wawanakwa instead of the resort their contract heavily implied they'd be going to, so they would absolutely anticipate at least one of them trying to pull a stunt like Getting Themselves Eliminated Intentionally- either as an act of defiance against the trickery (of Camp Wawanakwa not being what was advertised) or just to be spiteful.

Noah being the one to do so is just happenstance.

(It was more so expected from the likes of Duncan or Izzy, who are outwardly anti-authoritarian and not afraid to confront perceived injustices.)

If I may, I'd suggest having the contract outline that whoever intentionally gets themself eliminated has to work as a base-level intern, and that their "pay" is them working off whatever expenses the show invested into them as a competitor (travel costs, lodging, food, ect.). So Noah ends up stuck in the role of an unpaid intern for however long it takes him to "earn his keep" so to speak. But it's a Sisyphean task, since his debt is ever growing- he's forced to stay at Playa des Losers as an intern, and his daily cost of living is just added to the expenses he needs to work off.

At first, he'd be outright resistant to doing any of his tasks as an intern, because why should he? He didn't ask for the job, he didn't (knowingly) sign up for it either, and it's not like he's gonna be paid for his work. That is, until the producers threaten to pass his debt off to the rest of his family to "pick up his slack"; Noah's not heartless, and he cares a lot about his family, so he concedes to actually doing the work expected of him to save the rest of his brood from having to compensate for his short-sightedness.

(Let's say this turn of event takes about a week, meaning that from the time of his own elimination to the threat to his family's financial wellbeing, only Justin and Katie have been eliminated. Since, at least during Island, it's established that a challenge and subsequent elimination ceremony happens every three days.)

Now, the thing about lazy people- of which Noah undoubtedly is- is that they're downright innovative when it comes to figuring out shortcuts for any type of labour. Now that he's invested in doing his job, Noah uses that big brain of his to quickly figure out how to get all of his allotted tasks for the day completed to near-perfection, in a manner that's both efficient and easy. It gets to the point where he's completing a full day's work in an hour, spending the rest of the day doing what he loves; nothing. The other interns are just as annoyed as they are impressed.

Word quickly gets back to Chris about his miracle intern. But he's either too preoccupied to actually listen to who it is, or no one thinks to explain that his most productive labourer is the ex-competitor he'd contractually conned into the position.

Needless to say, Chris' interest is piqued.

The host issues a request to have the mystery intern shipped out to the island so they can work on the "important stuff" instead of doing menial tasks on the Playa, and is met with staunch refusal on their part. Which is odd, at least to Chris, since the interns send to be far too scared shitless of him (or, more notably, Chef) to ever outright deny a request like that.

It makes more sense when Noah's literally dragged kicking and screaming back to the island. Of course the only person ballsy enough to defy Chris' whims is the same contestant who got himself intentionally eliminated via deliberately pissing off his teammates. But he's back, now, so he might as well be put straight to work! No use in wasting labour, after all.

(Again, this probably happens over the course of a few days at most, since showbusiness is such a hectic and fast-paced line of work, so let's say that Tyler's the only new elimination in this timeframe.)

Again, Noah utilizes his higher-than-average smarts to figure out how to streamline his expected tasks because he's lazy, inadvertently proving himself as a Valuable Asset to both Chris and Chef since he's surprisingly good at what he does (even if what he does is very little by design). Chris is quick to offer Noah an ultimatum; he can either be promoted to being Chris' Personal Assistant, thus meeting the demands of his previous contract (and, of course, entering a new one under different pretences) and finally being paid for his work, or remain as an unpaid intern indefinitely and receive penalisation for his slacking off- since, despite the fact that he's gotten all of his work finished, he's still technically on the clock for the allotted work hours and should be acting as such instead of lazing about.

It's not really much of a choice. Noah reluctantly takes the promotion.

That's how he finds himself in the position we all know and love; Chris' Personal Assistant.

Because of his new promotion, he's expected to be at least within the vicinity of Chris at all (reasonable) times. The problem with that? Chris is hosting the show he got himself eliminated from in the most socially destructive way possible. Noah's now contractually forced to, at the very least, tiptoe around the prior teammates he knowingly and intentionally made hate him and dearly hope they don't notice him.

...Thus begins an AU's worth of shenanigans wherein Noah is desperately trying to fly under everyone's radar as an intern.

(I'd carry on into what he does during Action and World Tour, but this post is already fairly long, so maybe another time?)

[pencildragons]

snippet from my upcoming foxquin fic sinner, sinner (come to dinner) for foxquinweek !!!!!

“Commander Fox,” says the Chancellor, smiling his kindly smile. Fox stands very still and stares straight ahead, past Palpatine and through the great transparisteel window at the city below, skyline exploding in the brilliance of the sun’s final dying rays. The fanciful part of him that will one day be responsible for his death imagines that, if he’s just still enough, Palpatine will forget him entirely. It’s ridiculous, he knows, he knows, of course he knows, but he clings to it anyway, endeavours to move as little as possible, turns trying to hide even the slight rise and fall of his chest into some sort of test of how good his impression of being a block of stone is. “Sir,” says Fox. “Commander Fox,” Palpatine says again, still smiling that awful fucking smile, but sadder, now, mournful, bushy eyebrows doing something terrible and expressive. “You have disappointed me.” “Yes, sir.” “I gave you a very simple directive, Commander, and still you failed.” Fox is barely breathing now. Only a few klicks away, the spire of the Jedi Temple burns in a halo of pink-red, spearing through the cloud-strewn sky. It looks like one of the paintings hung in the Senate rotunda corridors, the ones that like as not cost more to procure than he did. His throat is dry. He tries to swallow. It sticks. It is likely he is dehydrated. There is a little light flashing on top of the spire, warning away in-atmo transports and low-flying starships. Orange-blue-green. Orange-blue-green. He stares at it, so he doesn’t have to look at Palpatine. “Yes, sir.” “Such inadequacy is, of course, unacceptable, Commander, as I’m sure you’re aware. I really had hoped it would not come to this, you understand.” Liar, Fox thinks. You love this. “But there is only one way to learn, and that is through experiencing consequences of your actions. Perhaps next time you will not take your sworn duty so lightly, hmm?” “Yes, sir.” “Draw your blaster, please, Commander.” Fox blinks and, in his surprise, breaks his stillness to turn his head to face Palpatine properly. “…Sir?” “Must I repeat myself twice? Draw your blaster from your holster.” Slowly, Fox draws. He wonders if this is some sort of test, if he’s going to be punished further for making his weapon naked in front of the Supreme Chancellor of the entire fucking Republic. (In the light of the dusk spilling through the window into the opulent office, Palpatine’s eyes seem almost gold. It is for but a brief moment, just the rays of the fat sun catching oddly, and then they return to that sharp, ice-chip grey like nothing at all happened.) “Good,” says Palpatine, and smiles again. Like this, he looks like some natborn’s father’s father—grandfather, he believes the term is—all benevolent wrinkles and knowing looks. “Set it to kill.” Fox sets it to kill. It is not a difficult thing. He is just as much a weapon as the blaster in his hands, well-oiled, clean, smooth. Efficient. He was designed for this. It is easier to follow orders mindlessly; his brain, like all their brains (except, perhaps, Kote’s, but Kote’s a little fucked up and is an outlier for everything else, anyway), is primed for command, made to obey. A perfect, thoughtless gun, with just enough ruthlessness and self-determination to set them apart from the CIS’ droids. That’s the idea, anyway. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the Kaminoans failed in the execution of something. “Turn around, Commander,” Palpatine murmurs, words soft and smooth and rich as the heavy velvet-fabric from his home planet that he has all his clothes cut from. “And fire at will.”

rbs deeply appreciated :]

[loving-n0t-heyting]

saw a bunch of libertarians citing the recent and from what i can tell very awful case of indi gregory, a small child with a rare mitochondrial illness taken off nhs life support whose parents were denied the right to transfer her to an italian hospital that agreed to see to her medical needs. which was ofc trotted out as an illustration of the evils of statist health care, death panels, etc

the obvious retort here ofc is that the main effect of privatising healthcare on cases like these is to multiply them, but what particularly interested me was the judge who issued that ruling, robert roger peel. turns out peel is currently the lead judge of the uk's financial remedies court (for determining financial disputes between divorced or separated couples), and has published an interesting couple of articles on his (very positive) assessment of the court. a lot of his focus is trained on time/cost minimising, settlement:trial ratio maximising measures for the court to implement or that the court has implemented, including (from the 2nd one)

the extensive use of "private fdr's," a sort of privatised dispute resolution in place of the court itself, in which an ex-couple hires a "private fdr judge" (could be a solicitor, barrister or retired judge) to rule on their case without recourse to the actual judicial system. ("So too the widespread use of Private FDRs. Judges need little persuasion to permit parties to attend a Private FDR and return to court thereafter for, as the case may be, a mention hearing to endorse the consent order, or a directions hearing to timetable to trial. The use of Private FDRs has in turn relieved pressure on the courts.")

the use of single lawyers simultaneously representing both members of the former couple, explicitly in order to undermine the costly adversarial nature of the legal proceedings. ("The Single Lawyer Model, for example, has attracted much interest. The aim is to enable parties to engage jointly one lawyer whose instructions are to gather the relevant facts and disclosure, and make a considered recommendation. The advantages are two-fold: (1) it ordinarily takes place at a very early stage of proceedings, or even before issue; and (2) the joint instruction of a single lawyer removes the parties from the adversarial world of separately instructed legal representation.")

the liberal awarding of costs orders, seemingly as a punitive and deterrent measure, to litigating parties the judge deems to be litigating unreasonably or insufficiently flexibly ("Similarly, I have repeated the mantra that judges should not be afraid to make costs orders where justified, particularly if one or other party does not litigate reasonably, and/or does not make reasonable open offers. [...] I appreciate that it is more difficult to do so when the assets are barely enough to meet needs, but even in those cases a judge is entitled to consider whether to make a costs award, however modest, to mark the court’s displeasure at the litigation conduct of the miscreant party.")

summary judgements in a majority of trial cases, without hearing of any oral testimony ("In an article I did last year for the Financial Remedies Journal, I said this: ‘It has sometimes seemed to me that many cases could be fairly disposed of with no oral evidence.’ My point was that as part of a drive for efficiency, cases could be swiftly dispatched without oral testimony where the factual and financial landscape is reasonably clear, and it would not be proportionate to explore relatively minor factual issues in the witness box. I suspect that will be the majority of cases")

in short, while this is definitely not an area where i have domain knowledge, my first impression is that the judge responsible directly for this decision is sort of a miserly ghoul happy to undermine the rights of individual brits in the service of shrinking and cost-cutting that portion of the govt over which he exercises authority. (to his credit he does at least declare the lack of public funding for legal representation to be "iniquitous", tho ofc that bit is out of his hands.) many such cases!

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Hello hello! If you are willing, maybe you can write something about König and his SO (gn preferably) regarding homecooking and just the delights of the kitchen! I think we just need some good domestic love from him.

Abso-flipping-lutely I can write that for you. I need my sweet baked goods dammit. I hope you enjoy this disgusting amount of fluff. I think it is GN, but I could be wrong. There might have been something I wrote that I didn't see, but I did try to keep it GN.

Also shout out Kitchenaid. I'm not sponsored, but if I could be I would be. Please sponsor me Kitchenaid. I want a Kitchenaid stand mixer so badly.

1.4k word count. Story below the cut. No warnings needed except exceptionally sweet fluff.

In Three Days

König, for all that was wonderful about him, was a bit of a hazard in the kitchen. Not because he was a bad cook, oh no König is a fantastic cook. He’s just a menace when you’re baking.

“But it is still flour! How is it any different than cake flour?” König grumbled as he put the whole grain flour back into the cupboards, switching to grumbling in his native language to keep you from smacking him with a wooden spoon (again).

“It is not the same. Cooking and baking are different, König,” you turn to keep a careful eye on him. You didn’t particularly trust him to not just make a show of putting it away only to put it in anyways. “You can’t substitute everything like you usually do.” 

You not-so sneakily slipped in between him and the cupboard, preventing him from trying to go for it when you weren’t looking. He squinted down at you, sniffed, and spun on his heel to turn back to the bowl on the kitchen island.

“First you do not want margarine, then you do not want me to use baking soda instead of baking powder, and now you are complaining about what flour I use,” he muttered to himself.

“If your suggestions weren’t awful, I might consider them,” you raised your wooden spoon in warning.

He took no heed of your weapon, instead choosing to move it to the side with a finger and look at you incredulously, “I make fantastic suggestions.”

“If I listened to you, our cake would already be a disaster,” you snapped back.

“But I am right. It is more efficient! It is cost effective!” König crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“We agreed that money wasn’t an issue!” you bonk his masked nose with the spoon, leaving a small white spot.

He shakes his head, but walks back to the screen of your laptop and crouches down to look at it properly.

“That many eggs?” König spat.

“Yes, that many eggs,” you replied as you pulled out the carton from the fridge, “it’s a big cake.”

“But that is so many! What cake needs ten eggs!?” König whined as he helped you crack the eggs into the bowl of the stand mixer.

“We bought these eggs for the cake, so you knew what you were getting into when you came with me to the store,,” you reply, dropping the last egg white into the bowl.

“And then what do we do with all these yolks?” König pointed to the bowl of yolks beside him, “you are not allowed to throw them out.”

“We’re not throwing them out, we’re using them for the lemon curd filling,” you explained as you set the bowl into the fridge.

“So that is why you bought the lemons…” König mused. He nodded sagely as you turned on the stand mixer. Not long after, the mixture was ready for the next step.

“Who puts sour cream in cake? It is…” König squinted, “wrong.”

“It’s to add moisture,” you scraped the paste into the bowl, then turned on the mixer again. You turned it off and glanced over at him, “see look, I told you we needed a Kitchenaid mixer.”

“I still think it was too much,” König shook his head dismissively.

“So you want to mix the batter yourself?” you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to try challenging you.

“I could. I am tired today, but I could do it,” König asserts defiantly. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing off his thick forearms.

“Sure thing buddy,” you roll your eyes, “keep telling yourself that.”

König simply muttered a few words in German as he checked on the oven.

“Are you sure the temperature is correct?” König asked.

“Aren’t you the one that set it?” you countered.

“Yes, but I want to make sure,” he replied.

“Well, check the recipe. It’s right there,” you pointed at the laptop.

He glanced between the laptop and the stove before nodding and turning back to you.

“Yes, it is good. The oven is set to one seventy-seven.”

“Wait what?” your eyes widened in horror.

“What?” König stiffened, “there is no problem, is there?”

“Why is the oven so low?” you hurried over to the stove, abandoning the cake mix in the process.

“Low? No, it is high! That is high!” König blinked and looked down at you as you checked the oven’s LED display.

“No, that’s-Oh. Celsius, not fahrenheit,” you gave a relieved sigh, “don’t do that to me! You had me panicking there.”

“It is not practical to use imperial,” König said, his tone too haughty for his own good.

“Yeah, but I’m used to people using imperial in recipes,” you shrugged and walked back to pour the rest of the dry ingredients into the wet.

“Well you are used to people using the wrong measurement system,” König huffed as he trailed behind you to the stand mixer.

“I am…” you dumped the last of the dry into the wet, “sure, whatever.”

König rolled his eyes, but he left it at that. Instead, he stepped back to go back to what you were doing earlier.

“Are you mixing it too much?” König leaned over your shoulder.

“No? I don’t think so. It should be good. Can you go check the video for me?”

König returned to the laptop, coming back a moment later with an affirming nod.

“You are right, my love. I am sorry,” König clapped a hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft rub before flicking the stand mixer off, “now it is done.”

“Thanks,” you smiled and leaned back to kiss him before taking the stand mixer bowl out and to the island.

König ended up being the one to measure out the pans, having done the weight calculations while you worked. You called him a nerd, he called you an idiot before kissing your forehead.

“My favorite idiot,” he’d said, sweet as the German buttercream frosting you’d both made earlier.

Once the pans were in the oven, you both sat down on the counter stools.

“That was so much work,” you groaned and stretched yourself over the soapstone island. You stretched out one hand and took his hand in your own. He gave you a light squeeze, then went limp. Evidently, it was a long day for both of you.

“Thanks for all the help.”

König sleepily turned his head to you, then gave you a small nod.

“Always.”

“I’m so happy to have you,” you squeezed his hand, “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“I can say the same of you,” König leaned over and slung an arm over your shoulder, then dragged you and your tool over to his side.

You huffed, but leaned into his side.

“You could’ve asked me to move.”

“This was more efficient,” König insisted.

“Was it now,” you kissed his chin through the mask with a smile, “so, just three more days?”

“Three more days,” König agreed and hugged you tightly to him. You melted into his hold with a smile.

“You looking forward to it?” you asked.

König squeezed you tight, “More than anything. Even if it does cost so much.”

“Hey, you agreed I could do what I wanted,” you laughed, “and I cut costs where I could.”

“You could have gotten your own tailor, but you went second hand. You are unbelievable,” König grumbled, but gave you a kiss, “but I am thankful. Others would spend my money like water, but you are careful. You are not good at math, but you are smart with your money at least.”

“I’m not that bad at math,” you nudged his side.

“No, but you are bad enough for me to laugh at you,” König smirked under his mask.

“Anyways, are you tired?”

“So tired. Do you want to lay down?”

You nodded eagerly. You followed him to the sofa, where he flopped down and dragged you onto his chest. He rubbed his hand over your sore back and hummed contently.

He rolled his head back over the armrest and sighed.

“If only I knew our wedding cake would be so much work.”

PS: Recipe I used (I doubled it for the story)

[cyberpunkonline]

The Internet: From Nuclear-Resistant to Vendor-Dependent Dumbassery

Back in the day, when the Internet was just a glint in DARPA's eye, it was designed with one crucial concept in mind: survival. Picture this—it's the Cold War, the threat of nuclear Armageddon looms large, and the military bigwigs are sweating bullets about communication breakdowns. They needed a network that could withstand a nuke dropping on a major hub and still keep the flow of information alive. Enter the ARPANET, the badass granddaddy of the modern Internet, built to have no single point of failure. If one part got nuked, the rest would carry on like nothing happened. Resilient as hell.

Fast forward to today, and what do we have? A digital house of cards. The once mighty and decentralized Internet has become a fragile mess where a single vendor bug can knock out entire swathes of the web. How did we go from a network that could shrug off nuclear bombs to one that craps its pants over a software glitch? Let's dive into this clusterfuck.

The Glory Days of Decentralization

The original ARPANET was all about redundancy and resilience. The network was designed so that if any one part failed—be it from a technical issue or a catastrophic event—data could still find another route. It was a web of interconnected nodes, a spider's web that kept spinning even if you tore a chunk out. It was pure genius.

This approach made perfect sense. The whole point was to ensure that critical military communications could continue even in the aftermath of a disaster. The Internet Protocol (IP), the backbone of how data travels on the Internet, was conceived to route around damage and keep on trucking. No single point of failure meant no single point of catastrophic breakdown. Brilliant, right?

The Rise of Centralized Stupidity

Then came the tech giants. Companies like Google, Amazon, and Microsoft built empires that depended on centralization. Cloud computing took off, and suddenly, everyone and their grandma was storing their data on a handful of massive servers owned by these big players. It was convenient, it was efficient, but it was also the beginning of the end for the Internet’s robust decentralization.

Today, we've got massive data centers dotted around the globe, each housing thousands of servers. These centers are like Fort Knox for data, but unlike Fort Knox, they’re not immune to problems. A single screw-up—a bug in a software update, a misconfiguration, or even a physical hardware failure—can take down huge chunks of the web. Remember that time when AWS went down and half the Internet went dark? Yeah, that was fun. Or more recently, Cloudstrike do something retarded and every single Windows machine running their shitware gets bricked. Fantastic.

The Single Vendor Blues

It gets worse. The consolidation of Internet services means that many critical applications and websites rely on the same vendors for infrastructure. If one of these vendors messes up, it's not just their services that go down—it's everyone who depends on them too. It’s like having a whole city’s power grid depending on one dodgy generator. One hiccup, and the lights go out for everyone.

Consider the infamous BGP (Border Gateway Protocol) hijacks and leaks. BGP is how routers figure out the best path for data to travel across the Internet. It's crucial, and it's also vulnerable. A single misconfiguration or malicious attack can reroute traffic, causing widespread outages and security breaches. And because so much of the Internet is funneled through a few major ISPs (Internet Service Providers), the impact can be catastrophic.

Why This Is So Fucking Stupid

So, why is it that we’ve allowed the Internet to become this fragile? It boils down to a mix of convenience, cost-cutting, and plain old shortsightedness. Centralized services are easier to manage and cheaper to run. But this efficiency comes at the cost of resilience. We’ve traded the robustness of a decentralized network for the convenience of cloud services and single-vendor solutions.

The result? A network that can be crippled by a single point of failure. This isn’t just stupid—it’s dangerous. It leaves us vulnerable to attacks, outages, and other disruptions that could have far-reaching consequences. It’s a stark reminder that in our quest for efficiency, we’ve neglected one of the core principles that the Internet was founded on: resilience.

The Way Forward

What’s the solution? We need to get back to basics. Decentralization should be a priority. More diversity in service providers, more redundancy in infrastructure, and more focus on designing systems that can withstand failures. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be cheap, but if we want an Internet that can survive the challenges of the future, it’s absolutely necessary.

So next time you hear about a massive outage caused by a single vendor’s screw-up, remember: it didn’t have to be this way. We built an Internet that could survive a nuclear war, and then we broke it because it was cheaper and easier. It’s time to fix that before the next big failure hits.

There you have it, folks. From invincible to idiotic, the Internet’s journey has been a wild ride. Let’s hope we can steer it back on course before it’s too late. - Raz.