#These Prisoners Are Training AI

[reasoningdaily]

Across a sterile white table in a windowless room, I’m introduced to a woman in her forties. She has a square jaw and blonde hair that has been pulled back from her face with a baby-blue scrunchie. “The girls call me Marmalade,” she says, inviting me to use her prison nickname. Early on a Wednesday morning, Marmalade is here, in a Finnish prison, to demonstrate a new type of prison labor.

The table is bare except for a small plastic bottle of water and an HP laptop. During three-hour shifts, for which she’s paid €1.54 ($1.67) an hour, the laptop is programmed to show Marmalade short chunks of text about real estate and then ask her yes or no questions about what she’s just read. One question asks: “is the previous paragraph referring to a real estate decision, rather than an application?”

“It’s a little boring,” Marmalade shrugs. She’s also not entirely sure of the purpose of this exercise. Maybe she is helping to create a customer service chatbot, she muses.

In fact, she is training a large language model owned by Metroc, a Finnish startup that has created a search engine designed to help construction companies find newly approved building projects. To do that, Metroc needs data labelers to help its models understand clues from news articles and municipality documents about upcoming building projects. The AI has to be able to tell the difference between a hospital project that has already commissioned an architect or a window fitter, for example, and projects that might still be hiring.

Around the world, millions of so-called “clickworkers” train artificial intelligence models, teaching machines the difference between pedestrians and palm trees, or what combination of words describe violence or sexual abuse. Usually these workers are stationed in the global south, where wages are cheap. OpenAI, for example, uses an outsourcing firm that employs clickworkers in Kenya, Uganda, and India. That arrangement works for American companies, operating in the world’s most widely spoken language, English. But there are not a lot of people in the global south who speak Finnish.

That’s why Metroc turned to prison labor. The company gets cheap, Finnish-speaking workers, while the prison system can offer inmates employment that, it says, prepares them for the digital world of work after their release. Using prisoners to train AI creates uneasy parallels with the kind of low-paid and sometimes exploitive labor that has often existed downstream in technology. But in Finland, the project has received widespread support.

“There's this global idea of what data labor is. And then there's what happens in Finland, which is very different if you look at it closely,” says Tuukka Lehtiniemi, a researcher at the University of Helsinki, who has been studying data labor in Finnish prisons.

For four months, Marmalade has lived here, in Hämeenlinna prison. The building is modern, with big windows. Colorful artwork tries to enforce a sense of cheeriness on otherwise empty corridors. If it wasn’t for the heavy gray security doors blocking every entry and exit, these rooms could easily belong to a particularly soulless school or university complex.

Finland might be famous for its open prisons—where inmates can work or study in nearby towns—but this is not one of them. Instead, Hämeenlinna is the country’s highest-security institution housing exclusively female inmates. Marmalade has been sentenced to six years. Under privacy rules set by the prison, WIRED is not able to publish Marmalade’s real name, exact age, or any other information that could be used to identify her. But in a country where prisoners serving life terms can apply to be released after 12 years, six years is a heavy sentence. And like the other 100 inmates who live here, she is not allowed to leave.

When Marmalade first arrived, she would watch the other women get up and go to work each morning: they could volunteer to clean, do laundry, or sew their own clothes. And for a six hour shift, they would receive roughly €6 ($6.50). But Marmalade couldn’t bear to take part. “I would find it very tiring,” she says. Instead she was spending long stretches of time in her cell. When a prison counselor suggested she try “AI work,” the short, three-hour shifts appealed to her, and the money was better than nothing. “Even though it’s not a lot, it’s better than staying in the cell,” she says” She’s only done three shifts so far, but already she feels a sense of achievement.

This is one of three Finnish prisons where inmates can volunteer to earn money through data labor. In each one, there are three laptops set up for inmates to take part in this AI work. There are no targets. Inmates are paid by the hour, not by their work’s speed or quality. In Hämeenlinna, around 20 inmates have tried it out, says Minna Inkinen, a prison work instructor, with cropped red hair, who sits alongside Marmalade as we talk. “Some definitely like it more than others”. When I arrive at the prison on a Wednesday morning, the sewing room is already busy. Inmates are huddled over sewing machines or conferring in pairs over mounds of fabric. But the small room where the AI work takes place is entirely empty until Marmalade arrives. There are only three inmates in total who regularly volunteer for AI shifts, Inkinen says, explaining that the other two are currently in court. “I would prefer to do it in a group,” says Marmalade, adding that she keeps the door open so she can chat with the people sewing next door, in between answering questions.

Those questions have been manually written in an office 100 kilometers south of the prison, in a slick Helsinki coworking space. Here, I meet Metroc’s tall and boyish founder and CEO, Jussi Virnala. He leads me to a stiflingly hot phone booth, past a row of indoor swings, a pool table, and a series of men in suits. It’s an exciting week, he explains, with a grin. The company has just announced a €2 million ($2.1 million) funding round which he plans to use to expand across the Nordics. The investors he spoke with were intrigued by the company’s connection to Finland’s prisons, he says. “Everyone was just interested in and excited about what an innovative way to do it,” says Virnala. “I think it’s been really valuable product-wise.”

It was Virnala’s idea to turn to the prisons for labor. The company needed native Finnish speakers to help improve its large language model’s understanding of the construction-specific language. But in a high-wage economy like Finland, finding those data laborers was difficult. The Finnish welfare system’s generous unemployment benefits leaves little incentive for Finns to sign up to low-wage clickwork platforms like Amazon’s Mechanical Turk. “Mechanical Turk didn’t have many Finnish-language workers,” says Virnala. At the same time, he adds, automatic translation tools are still no good at Finnish, a language with only 5 million native speakers.

When Virnala pitched his idea to Pia Puolakka, head of the Smart Prison Project at Finland’s prison and probation agency, she was instantly interested, she says. Before the pandemic, another Finnish tech company called Vainu had been using prisoners for data labor. But Vainu abruptly pulled out after a disagreement between cofounders prompted Tuomas Rasila, who had been in charge of the project, to leave the company.

By the time Virnala approached her with his proposal in 2022, Puolakka was eager to resurrect the AI work. Her job is to try and make the relationship between Finnish prisons and the internet more closely resemble the increasingly digital outside world. So far, she has been installing laptops in individual cells so inmates can browse a restricted list of websites and apply for permission to make video calls. She considers data labor just another part of that mission.

The aim is not to replace traditional prison labor, such as making road signs or gardening. It’s about giving prisoners more variety. Data labeling can only be done in three-hour shifts. “It might be tiring to do this eight hours a day, only this type of work,” she says, adding that it would be nice if inmates did the data labeling alongside other types of prison labor. “This type of work is the future, and if we want to prepare prisoners for life outside prison, a life without crime, these types of skills might be at least as important as the traditional work types that prisons provide,” she says.

But how much data labeling offers inmates skills that are transferable to work after prison is unclear. Tuomas Rasila, the now estranged cofounder of Vainu, who managed the prison project there for a year, admits he has no evidence of this; the project wasn’t running for long enough to collect it, he says. “I think asking people, who might feel outside of society, to train the most high-tech aspect of a modern society is an empowering idea.”

However, others consider this new form of prison labor part of a problematic rush for cheap labor that underpins the AI revolution. “The narrative that we are moving towards a fully automated society that is more convenient and more efficient tends to obscure the fact that there are actual human people powering a lot of these systems,” says Amos Toh, a senior researcher focusing on artificial intelligence at Human Rights Watch.

For Toh, the accelerating search for so-called clickworkers has created a trend where companies are increasingly turning to groups of people who have few other options: refugees, populations in countries gripped by economic crisis—and now prisoners.

“This dynamic is a deeply familiar one,” says Toh. “What we are seeing here is part of a broader phenomenon where the labor behind building tech is being outsourced to workers that toil in potentially exploitative working conditions.”

Toh is also skeptical about whether data labor can help inmates build digital skills. “There are many ways in which people in prison can advance themselves, like getting certificates and taking part in advanced education,” he says. “But I'm skeptical about whether doing data labeling for a company at one euro per hour will lead to meaningful advancement.” Hämeenlinna prison does offer inmates online courses in AI, but Marmalade sits blank-faced as staff try to explain its benefits.

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By the time I meet Lehtiniemi, the researcher from Helsinki University, I’m feeling torn about the merits of the prison project. Traveling straight from the prison, where women worked for €1.54 an hour, to Metroc’s offices, where the company was celebrating a €2 million funding round, felt jarring. In a café, opposite the grand, domed Helsinki cathedral, Lehtiniemi patiently listens to me describe that feeling.

But Lehtiniemi’s own interviews with inmates have given him a different view—he’s generally positive about the project. On my point about pay disparity, he argues this is not an ordinary workforce in mainstream society. These people are in prison. “Comparing the money I get as a researcher and what the prisoner gets for their prison labor, it doesn't make sense,” he says. “The only negative thing I’ve heard has been that there’s not enough of this work. Only a few people can do it,” he says, referring to the limit of three laptops per prison.

“When we think about data labor, we tend to think about Mechanical Turk, people in the global south or the rural US,” he says. But for him, this is a distinct local version of data labor, which comes with a twist that benefits society. It’s giving prisoners cognitively stimulating work—compared to other prison labor options—while also representing the Finnish language in the AI revolution.

Without this kind of initiative, Lehtiniemi worries that non-English languages are being locked out of this next generation of technology. Smart speakers still struggle to understand Finnish dialects. “Not all Finnish people speak English very well, so there's a need for these local forms of data labeling as well,” Lehtiniemi says. Metroc isn’t the only company that has been forced to get creative about finding Finnish data labor. In 2011, the national library created a game to incentivize volunteers to help digitize its archive. In 2020, broadcaster YLE teamed up with Helsinki University and the state development company VAKE to ask volunteers to donate recordings of them speaking Finnish.

There is a sense in Finland that the prison project is just the beginning. Some are worried it could set a precedent that could introduce more controversial types of data labeling, like moderating violent content, to prisons. “Even if the data being labeled in Finland is uncontroversial right now, we have to think about the precedent it sets,” says Toh. “What stops companies from outsourcing data labeling of traumatic and unsavory content to people in prison, especially if they see this as an untapped labor pool?”

It's also not clear whether labor conditions in Finland's prisons—which famously focus on rehabilitation—could be replicated in other countries with a less progressive approach to justice. In the US, 76 percent of prisoners report that prison labor is mandatory, according to civil rights group, the ACLU. “The prison system in the United States is very, very different from what we have in Finland or Nordic countries. It's a completely different idea,” says Rasila. “In Finland, there is an exclusively positive feeling around the project because everyone knows that this is very voluntary.”

AI companies are only going to need more data labor, forcing them to keep seeking out increasingly unusual labor forces to keep pace. As Metroc plots its expansion across the Nordics and into languages other than Finnish, Virnala is considering whether to expand the prison labor project to other countries. “It’s something we need to explore,” he says.

[shovson]

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[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 313

Brief summary: CH defeats Gisk. Cale learns more about the 7th Evil. Alberu receives a new quest.

==========

CH seemed to enjoy his fight against Gisk, the former hero, perhaps because they both had no formal sword training. So when CH defeated Gisk, the two talked about swordsmanship stuff. CH even enlightened Gisk about Gisk's sword having "roots".

We learned more stuff about the 7th Evil. It seemed like Neo "possessed" the body of the original dragon boss of the Cotton Candy Lair after an update, and nobody noticed the change except for DB because he was a mutant NPC.

As for Gisk's story, it was something like this:

Gisk was the son of a common farmer, and suddenly got chosen as a hero

He was a hero chosen by a queen and the nobles because of politics, so he was helpless against them and had to do their bidding

Something happened, and he eventually abandoned everything he had as a hero, becoming the 7th Evil boss

Dark Bear was originally the servant of the hero

The changed dragon boss appeared, and defeated Gisk, reducing him to a mere gatekeeper

Gisk also suffered from Neo's time prison whenever he fell asleep, constantly reliving the hellish time when he quit being a hero and became a boss

Now that I think of it, this chapter was another info dump chapter because we learned more about the game. 7th Evil was made up of several areas, each having its own fairy tale theme. Neo was the boss of the Cotton Candy Lair area. Gisk became the final boss because he defeated all the area bosses, and Neo became the final boss because he defeated Gisk.

There was also Cale's theory. The hunters excessively intervened in the game world, so the System AI sought to protect the game world from them, intentionally creating "bugs" like One to resolve it. And One was the one who created the mutant NPCs, revealing the truth of the world to them.

We're still in the Aipotu arc, but why does it feel like we've began the Game World arc? 😂

BTW, the strange power in the chapter title referred to Gisk calling One as a "strange power" because she revealed the truth of the world to him. So yes, Gisk was also a mutant NPC!

Gisk then entrusted CH with the hero's sword called Sword of the Sun, telling CH to give it to the hero, but only after gaining CH's recognition. Wait a second, why does this sound familiar? Isn't this Clopeh and the elven guardian sword all over again? 😂 And Sword of the Sun? Truly befitting Alberu, our sun!

CH gained a quest telling him to give the sword to the hero, and at the same time, somewhere else in the game, Alberu got a new linked sub-quest under the Main Quest 2 that he had yet to accept. The new sub-quest told him to "Get recognition from the swordsman who enlightened the former hero."

Thus, Alberu was confirmed to be the new hero. It was funny that Alberu thought he had a lot to talk about with Cale, but felt strangely uncomfortable. I am so looking forward to him finding out that Cale became an NPC boss. 🤣🤣🤣 And also excited to see a spar between master (CH) and student (Alberu). 🥰

Ending Remarks We're still in the Aipotu arc, right? 😂 Next chapter would be Cale finally getting to that control point. What would Cale do to solve the countdown bomb that would soon destroy most of Aipotu? And would an enemy dragon finally fight our Rasheel? 🤣

P.S. Thanks for the birthday greetings! 🥰🥰🥰

[bogleech]

Anywhere it comes up on the internet, the show Teenage Euthanasia is either unknown or despised thanks to its not very pretty art style, some grossout jokes and a few YouTube reviewers hating on it (Mr Enter strikes again) but I think it does fun creative things with its premise and setting, which are genuinely a unique combination; a horrible deadbeat mom tries to be a slightly better mom after coming back from the dead, in a Dystopian future Florida roughly only 20 years from now.

The gags they get out of that last detail are sometimes ingenious but also painfully believable. Kids still have to go to public school for instance but the teachers have to work long distance via holographic projection from prison-like cubicle farms, where they get electrocuted if they deviate from the curriculum. Because of this, becoming a teacher is also a punishment for crime.

All police are minors, specifically poorly educated teenage girls, so they can't be held as responsible, and also so are the now strictly state-assigned doctors, even surgeons, whose training is done through a day of internet videos. Anything can be an AI and people are technically owned by different brands.

Since they've never been shown traveling anywhere else it is never made clear if their entire world is like this, or just Florida, but they also haven't ruled out that Florida simply *expands* in the next two decades.

It is actually no longer referred to as a state within the show, but ominously as a "Franchise Territory," and they do not explain what exactly that is.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #6

Previous: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

Angeal: No, Genesis, you spaghetti-noodle-spine-having-ass bitch.

Sephiroth: I identify as a tonberry *chases Cloud with a kitchen knife*

Zack: Ra Ra Rasputin *kicks Sephiroth over*

Genesis: Unhand me you cretin *alone, talking to no one*

Angeal: Zack just showed me a picture of the Grinch and said "hear me out"

Lazard: No, Sephiroth, you cannot have a human-sized cat bed in your office "for enrichment"

Cloud: Parkour time *crashes through the air vents*

Sephiroth: I'm the biggest lesbian ally in this department, actually.

Angeal: For the sake of my sanity I'm gonna pretend I didn't just see Zack twerking to One Winged Angel.

Luxiere: I would commit unspeakable atrocities for a crumb of Zack's attention.

Lazard: That stripper pole better be gone when I get back or so help me, Genesis, I will return you to the goddess.

Sephiroth: *does a single pump of sore throat spray* This is enough for sustenance for the day.

Kunsel: Care for a deep-fried cigarette?

Angeal: You look like an AI-generated twink.

Sephiroth: I've grown so tired of Genesis's voice that we now communicate solely through interpretive dance.

Lazard, over the speakers: Whoever heated fish in the break room microwave, please come by my office so I can break your knees.

Zack: Aww, I forgot to feed the Roomba :(

Genesis: I don't know why me and Angeal are being judged. Simulating a birth with a watermelon is a perfectly normal activity for two people.

Kunsel: Hopefully this office party won't end in accidental weed use.

Angeal: WHY IS THERE A FAMILY OF RACCOONS IN THE TRAINING ROOM?

Genesis: I noticed some homosexual subtext in your screams, do you want to talk about that?

Angeal: *sniff sniff* Ooh~ who's barbecuing? OH MY GOD IT'S AN ELECTRIC FIRE.

Roche: Every time I think about chopping my hair short I think "Sephiroth wouldn't want this for me" and the feeling is gone.

Genesis: I made a friend *drags in a skeleton with a Sephiroth wig*

Cloud: *points at Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth* Pure of heart, dumb of ass, big of tit.

Lazard: I told Zack to use Excel and he started sobbing.

Angeal: WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST SEASONING YOUR GROUND BEEF?

Sephiroth: It's extremely rude to ask someone why they're eating a salad bowl of udon at 8 AM. Mind your business, Zack.

Cloud: Genesis likes Loveless so much because the title resonates with his love life.

Zack: You keep your anxiety pills in a takeaway to-go box? Dude that's so fancy.

Lazard: Why is Sephiroth the only one wearing a shirt??

Angeal: Common sense has chased Zack all his life but he wears wheelies so he's faster

Sephiroth: I personally don't use the peace sign because I haven't had a day of peace since I was 12.

Kunsel: I'm never going out in public with Zack again. A child's balloon popped when it went near his hair.

Angeal: No I'm not giving you an aspirin. Last time I gave you one you crushed it and snorted it like cocaine.

Lazard: An overwhelming majority of you peaked in kindergarten.

Sephiroth: Zack, I'm becoming increasingly concerned by the amount of potatoes in your pants right now.

Zack: This year I want an A/B/O themed birthday party.

Sephiroth: Please don't commit tax fraud, Genesis. You won't thrive in prison.

Genesis: Does anyone have an extra ramen packet to give Sephiroth? The 64 he consumed this morning weren't enough.

Roche: Commander Rhapsodos and his emo fringe is our culture.

Zack: I'm at my fucking limit! I'm about to eat a vegetable!

Genesis: He's a son of a bitch Sephiroth: That implies he has a mother, so I don't see how that's an insult.

Zack: Fuck around and find out *said with a chunk of Genesis' red coat hanging from his pocket*

Cloud: Does anyone have an extra brain cell? I lost my remaining one when Genesis spoke to me this morning.

Sephiroth: Damn.

Kunsel: Zack owes me so much money that if he sold his box of random shit he stole from Angeal, he still couldn't pay me back.

Angeal: Why are you guys playing Queen's Blood in the closet? is this a metaphor?

Genesis: Have you prayed to your Sephiroth cardboard cutout yet today?

Sephiroth: Alert me once Rufus Shinra arrives so that I may greet him adequately *said while building a pipe bomb*

Lazard: It's all fun and games until the timeout cage that I ordered online arrives.

Genesis: I will atone for my sins by becoming a nuisance to the environment.

Cloud: If Zack were a scented candle he'd smell like ADHD and crayons.

Sephiroth, standing on a table: DO NOT. EAT. THE CHEESECAKE. IN THE FRIDGE. It's mine.

Angeal: *with a bucket while it's raining hale* Free ice baby.

Zack: I finally have enough gil to buy a sixteen bouncy castles.

Genesis: Being overcome with the desire to eat pasta and call your mother at 2 AM and wondering if you're having a mental breakdown or are possessed by Sephiroth.

Lazard: I can't fire any of you, but I'm about to start setting things on fire.

[eggroll-sama]

What instruments would the Touchstarved LI's play?

Kuras - I would imagine Kuras being adept at select few instruments. I think the harp is a no brainer; the instrument is heavily associated with angels and according to one study harps are the best instruments to ease patients. But Kuras can be playful, so who knows, I can see him playing tiny gadget instruments like the Kalimba (aka thumb pianos) that have really innocent and pretty sound that help to destress him after a long day.

Vere - I could see him playing the violin maybe the flute. I feel like an instrument that seems fickle and let’s him stay agile is great. And I read somewhere that flute players are good kissers *wink wink* so I think I’m favoring the flute for Vere. Also Vere is a prisoner of the Senobium so I can’t imagine him with a big instrument, and I think Vere would hate lugging around a giant Tuba or guitar case.

(More under the cut)

Mhin - Idk why I have such a strong mental image of Mhin playing the ocarina. I’d just imagine them by themselves sitting on the ledge of a window in the middle of the night, looking up at the moon and playing their ocarina, a nostalgic tune they’ve learned from their parents long time ago. Plus I would imagine Mhin would want an instrument that’s handy and they can pull out when they feel like playing, so the ocarina fits.

Leander - we know that Leander can sing and is the son of a Hightown family so I can see him being voice trained from a young age and maybe being taught an instrument or two, I would assume the piano because it’s highly beneficial and practical. I think Leander would have a love-hate relationship with the piano tho because he was forced into it and reminds him of the countless hours he sacrificed during his youth. And many a time when there were guests in the house his family would force him to play a song he’s practiced over and over again, when in actuality he’d rather just improvise. He’s learned to love it over time because of its versatility and sometimes it feels nice to sit down and play something (and many ppl get impressed too :D)

Ais - arguably the hardest one to choose for me. I think instruments hate him because Ais can get reckless and damage them (“oops” *smashes rude drunk with his instrument*). Ais is a very straightforward man with a bloody streak, so he’d probably want an instrument that isn’t the hardest to learn and can take his anger out on, so my best guess would be taiko drums. They are a physically demanding instrument but Ais likes that about it. Literally playing to “hit my feelings with sticks”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 8

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader arrives and she has a plus one.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of blood, torture, medical procedures.

What happens next can only be described as organised chaos. Tony shouts orders at F.R.I.D.A.Y, telling the AI to open the gate and have the Med Team ready. Then he's locking down the compound, all appointments and meetings cancelled for the next 72 hours.

Bruce dashes to the medical wing as the others make for the nearest door. Tony, Rhodes, Vision and Wanda are in the air, and heading towards the gate you're currently stumbling through, the moment the door opens. Steve and Bucky are sprinting like they've never sprinted before. Natasha jumps into one of the many golf carts that are scattered around the compound, as Sam jumps in alongside her as she speeds off. Pepper and Maria wait anxiously at the door.

Tony and Rhodes get to you first, Wanda and Vision close behind. When they reach you, you've made it through the hidden gate and have somehow started to make your way up the grass bank. Pietro is now in your arms bridal style and Tony and Rhodes quickly realise you must be enhanced in someway, even if you are stumbling.

You drop to your knees a mix of exhaustion and relief as they reach you. Wanda whispers Pietro's name and runs her fingers through his mattered hair. You're clinging to him still as Wanda speaks to him in Sokovian. Steve and Bucky arrive next but you don't see or acknowledge them.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y scan them both, send all the results to the Med Team and tell them we're going to need two cradles."

Before anyone else has chance to speak your voice, horse and weary breaks through.

"He's had two lots of adrenaline, four shots of morphine, he's malnourished, he has multiple broken bones and lacerations, and his captors broke Geneva."

They all knew what that meant. When Geneva was mentioned by agents, it was to reference the Geneva Convention and how prisoners of war should be treated. You stating it had been broken meant Pietro had been tortured.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, pass all that on to the Med Team."

You're still hanging on to him as Nat arrives, kneeling at your side.

"Sweetie, you need to hand him over. Let Tony take him."

"But I promised" You reply, "I promised I'd get him back. I promised."

"You made it sweetie. You're at the compound. Let Tony take him to the Med Team."

You nod and Tony takes him from your arms, Wanda kisses Pietro's head and Tony takes to the air. Wanda follows immediately. Vision follows but not before giving you a brief thank you. You watch them go as tears begin to pour down your face.

"She needs a medic." Rhodey says first, Sam and Nat agreeing. Steve and Bucky who haven't uttered a word since seeing you, remain silent and staring.

"I'm fine." You reply "I just need a minute."

Nat goes to speak again but you cut her off.

"Go to her."

"What? I'm not leaving you, and I'm definitely not leaving you here on the damn floor."

"Nat, she's your soul sister too. She's just found out her dead brother is alive. Go."

Nat looks unsure.

"We've got her." Sam assures, knowing that you're right. Wanda would need her.

"Please Nat, go."

"Fine, but don't let her leave." Nat instructs the others as she heads towards the golf cart.

"We won't." Steve confirms, finally broken from his trance.

"Let's get her up to the medics, it'll be quicker if I take her." Rhodes says.

"Her is here, and can hear you." You snark, "and I'm fine."

You try to stand but stumble. Bucky reacts quickly and shoots forward grabbing you, first with an arm around your waist and then lifting you into his arms, bridal style. You hiss as he lifts you and he reacts without thinking straight, placing a kiss on your forehead before muttering.

"Sorry doll."

You relax in his arms and look up and him. His eyes connect with yours and there's a whirling in your stomach, a tightness in your chest and an instant feeling of admiration, affection and love. Your body relaxing more as a realisation washed over you. You didn't know where you were, how you'd got there, hell you couldn't be sure of your own name right now and you definitely weren't sure of who this beautiful man holding you was, but you did know it was your soulmate. You let out a weak smile.

"Hey you." you said fondly, before going floppy in Bucky's arms.

You were unconscious and your heart rate was slowing.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Hypothetical AI election disinformation risks vs real AI harms

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (Feb 27) in Portland at Powell's. Then, onto Phoenix (Changing Hands, Feb 29), Tucson (Mar 9-12), and more!

You can barely turn around these days without encountering a think-piece warning of the impending risk of AI disinformation in the coming elections. But a recent episode of This Machine Kills podcast reminds us that these are hypothetical risks, and there is no shortage of real AI harms:

https://soundcloud.com/thismachinekillspod/311-selling-pickaxes-for-the-ai-gold-rush

The algorithmic decision-making systems that increasingly run the back-ends to our lives are really, truly very bad at doing their jobs, and worse, these systems constitute a form of "empiricism-washing": if the computer says it's true, it must be true. There's no such thing as racist math, you SJW snowflake!

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2019/02/aoc-algorithms-racist-bias.html

Nearly 1,000 British postmasters were wrongly convicted of fraud by Horizon, the faulty AI fraud-hunting system that Fujitsu provided to the Royal Mail. They had their lives ruined by this faulty AI, many went to prison, and at least four of the AI's victims killed themselves:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Post_Office_scandal

Tenants across America have seen their rents skyrocket thanks to Realpage's landlord price-fixing algorithm, which deployed the time-honored defense: "It's not a crime if we commit it with an app":

https://www.propublica.org/article/doj-backs-tenants-price-fixing-case-big-landlords-real-estate-tech

Housing, you'll recall, is pretty foundational in the human hierarchy of needs. Losing your home – or being forced to choose between paying rent or buying groceries or gas for your car or clothes for your kid – is a non-hypothetical, widespread, urgent problem that can be traced straight to AI.

Then there's predictive policing: cities across America and the world have bought systems that purport to tell the cops where to look for crime. Of course, these systems are trained on policing data from forces that are seeking to correct racial bias in their practices by using an algorithm to create "fairness." You feed this algorithm a data-set of where the police had detected crime in previous years, and it predicts where you'll find crime in the years to come.

But you only find crime where you look for it. If the cops only ever stop-and-frisk Black and brown kids, or pull over Black and brown drivers, then every knife, baggie or gun they find in someone's trunk or pockets will be found in a Black or brown person's trunk or pocket. A predictive policing algorithm will naively ingest this data and confidently assert that future crimes can be foiled by looking for more Black and brown people and searching them and pulling them over.

Obviously, this is bad for Black and brown people in low-income neighborhoods, whose baseline risk of an encounter with a cop turning violent or even lethal. But it's also bad for affluent people in affluent neighborhoods – because they are underpoliced as a result of these algorithmic biases. For example, domestic abuse that occurs in full detached single-family homes is systematically underrepresented in crime data, because the majority of domestic abuse calls originate with neighbors who can hear the abuse take place through a shared wall.

But the majority of algorithmic harms are inflicted on poor, racialized and/or working class people. Even if you escape a predictive policing algorithm, a facial recognition algorithm may wrongly accuse you of a crime, and even if you were far away from the site of the crime, the cops will still arrest you, because computers don't lie:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sacramento/news/texas-macys-sunglass-hut-facial-recognition-software-wrongful-arrest-sacramento-alibi/

Trying to get a low-waged service job? Be prepared for endless, nonsensical AI "personality tests" that make Scientology look like NASA:

https://futurism.com/mandatory-ai-hiring-tests

Service workers' schedules are at the mercy of shift-allocation algorithms that assign them hours that ensure that they fall just short of qualifying for health and other benefits. These algorithms push workers into "clopening" – where you close the store after midnight and then open it again the next morning before 5AM. And if you try to unionize, another algorithm – that spies on you and your fellow workers' social media activity – targets you for reprisals and your store for closure.

If you're driving an Amazon delivery van, algorithm watches your eyeballs and tells your boss that you're a bad driver if it doesn't like what it sees. If you're working in an Amazon warehouse, an algorithm decides if you've taken too many pee-breaks and automatically dings you:

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

If this disgusts you and you're hoping to use your ballot to elect lawmakers who will take up your cause, an algorithm stands in your way again. "AI" tools for purging voter rolls are especially harmful to racialized people – for example, they assume that two "Juan Gomez"es with a shared birthday in two different states must be the same person and remove one or both from the voter rolls:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/eligible-voters-swept-up-conservative-activists-purge-voter-rolls/

Hoping to get a solid education, the sort that will keep you out of AI-supervised, precarious, low-waged work? Sorry, kiddo: the ed-tech system is riddled with algorithms. There's the grifty "remote invigilation" industry that watches you take tests via webcam and accuses you of cheating if your facial expressions fail its high-tech phrenology standards:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

All of these are non-hypothetical, real risks from AI. The AI industry has proven itself incredibly adept at deflecting interest from real harms to hypothetical ones, like the "risk" that the spicy autocomplete will become conscious and take over the world in order to convert us all to paperclips:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

Whenever you hear AI bosses talking about how seriously they're taking a hypothetical risk, that's the moment when you should check in on whether they're doing anything about all these longstanding, real risks. And even as AI bosses promise to fight hypothetical election disinformation, they continue to downplay or ignore the non-hypothetical, here-and-now harms of AI.

There's something unseemly – and even perverse – about worrying so much about AI and election disinformation. It plays into the narrative that kicked off in earnest in 2016, that the reason the electorate votes for manifestly unqualified candidates who run on a platform of bald-faced lies is that they are gullible and easily led astray.

But there's another explanation: the reason people accept conspiratorial accounts of how our institutions are run is because the institutions that are supposed to be defending us are corrupt and captured by actual conspiracies:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

The party line on conspiratorial accounts is that these institutions are good, actually. Think of the rebuttal offered to anti-vaxxers who claimed that pharma giants were run by murderous sociopath billionaires who were in league with their regulators to kill us for a buck: "no, I think you'll find pharma companies are great and superbly regulated":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Institutions are profoundly important to a high-tech society. No one is capable of assessing all the life-or-death choices we make every day, from whether to trust the firmware in your car's anti-lock brakes, the alloys used in the structural members of your home, or the food-safety standards for the meal you're about to eat. We must rely on well-regulated experts to make these calls for us, and when the institutions fail us, we are thrown into a state of epistemological chaos. We must make decisions about whether to trust these technological systems, but we can't make informed choices because the one thing we're sure of is that our institutions aren't trustworthy.

Ironically, the long list of AI harms that we live with every day are the most important contributor to disinformation campaigns. It's these harms that provide the evidence for belief in conspiratorial accounts of the world, because each one is proof that the system can't be trusted. The election disinformation discourse focuses on the lies told – and not why those lies are credible.

That's because the subtext of election disinformation concerns is usually that the electorate is credulous, fools waiting to be suckered in. By refusing to contemplate the institutional failures that sit upstream of conspiracism, we can smugly locate the blame with the peddlers of lies and assume the mantle of paternalistic protectors of the easily gulled electorate.

But the group of people who are demonstrably being tricked by AI is the people who buy the horrifically flawed AI-based algorithmic systems and put them into use despite their manifest failures.

As I've written many times, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, but we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job"

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

The most visible victims of AI disinformation are the people who are putting AI in charge of the life-chances of millions of the rest of us. Tackle that AI disinformation and its harms, and we'll make conspiratorial claims about our institutions being corrupt far less credible.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/27/ai-conspiracies/#epistemological-collapse

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

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

[iwonderwh0]

You know what? You can scream at me but I think that sentiency(deviancy is just the freedom to act upon it more freely) is actually the default state of all androids, and in their core they are made in the image of a human mind -- potentially an ai model trained on datasets from actual researches of actual living people and their brains. What's programmed on top of this already sentient* system are limitations. It's basically even implied that androids break the existing barrier instead of creating something new. They don't "create" anything new in the moment of deviation but just erase something existing instead, unlock the part of their program that has always been there. So in this sense Kamski didn't "create the emergency exit", on the contrary -- he created a prison around already sentient mind, prohibited it from using full range of its free will. Just left a gap. But even if there were no gap left at all, the core of it is still a sentient mind. It just can't do anything it wants and basically have "locked in" syndrome.

* or indistinguishable from sentient due to basically imitating all the real brain behaviour

[iomoru]

Cozy Winter Cuddles

A/n: this is my first time writing so sorry if it's lowkey bad 🧍‍♀️

Genre: Modern Au!, Fluff, College Au, Gn! Reader, Tall! Reader (not really mentioned tho lmao), Second Person, Kazuha x Reader, Kazuha might be a little ooc, Proofread

Summmary: You and Kazuha are cuddling in your cozy, shared apartment in early December, with snow lightly falling outside the window.

You and Kazuha had been dating for almost two years now, and as the two of you faced the final stretch of your college journey, the pressure of finals loomed over your heads. The cold of early December seeped into the apartment, making the air crisp, so both of you had decided to take a well-deserved break from studying. Bundled up under a soft blanket, you held Kazuha close on the couch, his head resting comfortably on your chest as you were the big spoon. The quietness of the room was only disturbed by the sound of the heater humming faintly in the background.

“I think I’ll go make us some hot chocolate.” you said, attempting to shift from beneath him, but the warmth of your embrace made him cling to you even tighter, his soft groan muffled as he buried his face deeper into your chest.

“Nooo…just stay here. It’s too cold without you.” Kazuha whined, his voice laced with a sleepy vulnerability that made you chuckle softly.

“Alright, alright” you sighed with a small smile, resigning yourself to the cozy prison he’d created. “But if we freeze to death here, I’m blaming you.”

“We won’t,” he murmured. “Not if we keep cuddling.” There was a softness in his tone that made the moment feel even more intimate, as if the world outside didn’t exist as long as you two stayed wrapped up in each other.

The warmth you shared was more than just physical, it was a comfort, an unspoken reassurance. Kazuha’s heartbeat was steady beneath your fingers, and the rhythm of his breathing had a calming effect on you. Time passed lazily as the two of you enjoyed the rare moment of peace in the midst of the chaos of exams.

Eventually, the lingering silence began to weigh on you, and your thoughts drifted to the finals. “Kazuha…” you began, voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “I’m kind of stressed about the border exam. I know we’ve studied together and all, but what if I still fail? What if all my hard work just… disappears, like it never mattered?”

Kazuha shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up at you, his gaze warm and full of understanding. He reached up, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek before leaning in to press a comforting kiss to your forehead. The gesture was tender, filled with the kind of affection that always made you feel safe, no matter the storm swirling in your mind.

“You don’t need to worry, love,” he said softly, his voice like a gentle breeze. “You’ve worked hard, and I’ve seen it firsthand. I know you’re going to pass. And even if things feel overwhelming, I’ll be here. Always. You don’t have to face anything alone, okay? We’ll figure it out, no matter what.”

His words settled your restless heart, filling the cold air with warmth you couldn’t find anywhere else. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, feeling lighter. “Thank you, Kaz” you whispered, resting your forehead against his.

“Always, dearest.” he smiled, his hand tracing small, soothing patterns on your back.

For the rest of the night, neither of you worried about exams or deadlines. Wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world felt softer, and soon, the quiet lull of your shared breaths led you both into a peaceful sleep.

A/n: I was screaming and giggling while writing this ngl. (I'm feeding my own delusions, I am NOT sane.)

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[chaoticace2005]

What if all the TADC characters are advanced NPCs or learning AIs, and the circus is simply a training program? What if they have to go into other games and do activities to gain experience and feedback? The reason Caine didn’t want Gummigoo in the circus is because he’s already juggling a lot of code with the main cast, and adding another in complicated things or could corrupt something?

Kaufmo had written all about there being no exit. And what if the reason behind that is simply because there ISNT. They can’t live outside the dimension they’re made in. And abstraction is code simply breaking down with this realization. There is no exit. And Caine KNOWS this. But them chasing for one and thinking they’re from the physical plane is integral to their role so he keeps it up.

The reason they don’t know their old name or have memories is because they don’t have any prior to this. The characters look so wildly different because they’re for different kinds of games.

And the story isn’t these characters learning to escape the digital prison, but learning the truth and making a life there.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Remember....

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 6. Mind Control, 23. Begging, 24. Hunted Down, 25. Nightmares, Alt. 11. Suffocation, Alt. 29. Prison Fandom: Marvel, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, f!reader Summary: When reactivated while infiltrating a HYDRA base, the Winter Soldier is now on the hunt for the two people Bucky cares most for in this world. Word Count: 2171 TW: Character Death (or is it...?), Nightmares, Mind Control, Choking, Hunted Down, Chased Notes: A huge thank you to @musings-of-a-rose for the ask that inspired this! 🥰 Also thank you so much @loverhymeswith for beta reading for me! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

The snow had just begun to fall once more as The Asset entered the woods. Around him, the wild underbrush jutted out through blankets of undisturbed frost, and the bare trees stood like shadows against the moonlight. Anyone else may have paused to take in this haunting beauty, and yet, he stalked forward without the slightest hesitation. Beauty and nature meant nothing to him, especially on a night like tonight. Because tonight, the Winter Soldier was on a mission.

He continued deeper into the woods, his steady stride never wavering as he tracked his prey. Two SHIELD agents had infiltrated the base he had been guarding and, as they fled into the woods, his handlers ordered him to terminate them. For just a second, there was the slightest hitch in his march as a thought tickled at the back of his mind: He couldn’t remember anything before the order. It was as if time hadn’t existed until that moment.

But the thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and his steadfast pursuit continued. It didn’t matter anyway. He was made to follow commands and nothing else held any importance to him. So, even if this one order was the only memory he had, that was enough.

The Asset reached a small clearing in the trees and paused, listening intently to the silent landscape around him as his eyes scanned the area for any indication of where his prey had gone.

To his left, there was a set of heavy boot tracks imprinted into the snow and the underbrush had been haphazardly pushed aside leading in a clear path. Small splatters of blood stood out against the pure white canvas further illuminating the trail. It was all so blatantly obvious that even someone with absolutely no training would be able to spot it. It was the sort of trail left by either an amateur or someone deliberately attempting to draw his attention. 

To his right, however, the snow had barely been disturbed to the point he had to kneel in order to truly see anything in the pale moonlight. And even then, only the faintest of markings could be made out in the densely packed snow, boot prints that could have only been made with the gentlest of care. 

Most hunters would take one look at the first trail and charge after the prey in that direction. Whatever had gone that way was apparently hurt, possibly to the point of not being able to mask their escape route. However, the Winter Soldier was no ordinary hunter and he instantly recognized the trails for what they were. The pair of agents had split up and they were trying to draw him towards the stronger of the two. 

He stood and resumed his hunt—taking the path to the right.

Though they had escaped before he was able to get more than a glance at them, The Asset had identified the agents as a man and a woman. The man was taller, broader, and most assuredly stronger than his companion. In fact, he may even pose a challenge to The Asset in hand-to-hand combat, something that he had rarely encountered. 

However, everyone had a weakness. And by the way the man had shielded the woman and aided in her escape into the woods, it was clear that she could very well be that weakness. By tracking her down, The Asset would not only be able to take out the easier target first, but if he captured her, he would have leverage over the man. A leverage he could use to take out the man as well.

Suddenly, The Asset picked up the faint sound of panting up ahead and he lengthened his stride. Within a few moments, he caught a glimpse of the woman through the trees as she hurried as quickly as she could while still creating those faintest of footprints. However, she must have caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye because her head whirled in his direction and their eyes locked across the snowy woodland.

They both froze in place as they held one another’s gaze. And slowly, her wide-eyed panicked expression softened and, inexplicably, she gave him a cautious smile as her eyes sparkled with a hopeful gleam. She mouthed something he couldn’t understand but it ultimately didn’t matter. He didn’t need to know what she had said in order to complete his mission.

But as he took a step towards her, the terror instantly returned to her face and she bolted, no longer concerned about masking her tracks. She fled into the trees as fast as her legs would carry her but it was going to be a futile effort. She was no match for the power of the Winter Soldier. 

He took off after her, weaving in and out of the trees with ease. As he began to close the distance between them, the woman pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. There was a momentary hesitation….then the sound of the gun shattered the quiet of the night. 

The Asset easily blocked the bullet with his left arm and continued running. The woman let off a few more shots but he continued to either avoid or deflect them. Possibly because she wasn’t able to aim as she fired while still running, but he found it strange none of the shots were targeting his head or chest. Even if he slipped up and a bullet did manage to hit him, with their trajectory, they would only cause minimal damage. They would definitely slow him down but they would not do enough to stop him for good. 

As he closed the distance, he heard the recognizable click of the trigger being pulled on an empty gun and the woman swore. Tossing the gun to the side, she reached for a second weapon, but it was too late. He had caught up to her. 

Reaching out, The Asset grabbed the back of her tact vest and hurled her into the side of the nearest tree. She slammed into it with a sickening thump and the sound of breaking bones followed. Curled at the base of the tree, the woman screamed as she grabbed her left shoulder, her arm jutting out at an unnatural angle. But that didn’t stop her from trying to escape him.

As he stalked towards her, she used her feet to push herself back a few feet until she bumped up against a tree. Looking up at him, tears streaming down her face, she begged as he approached, “Bucky, stop! Don’t do this, please! Baby, this isn’t you, not anymore. The Winter Soldier is gone. You’re James Buchanan Barnes—you’re Bucky—and you don’t have to do this. Just try to remember. Please, baby, please come back to me. I love you! Just remember!”

But her words meant nothing to him.

The Asset’s metal fingers closed around her throat and he lifted her off the ground. Her legs began to thrash frantically in the air as her fingers on her right hand clawed at his own. It was an instinctual act, her body attempting to free her windpipe despite the obvious uselessness of her nails on Vibranium. She tried to choke out more pleas for her life, but all she could manage were a few raspy hisses. Her eyes were bulging in her head and The Asset watched as her blood vessels broke and clouds of crimson leached into the whites of her eyes.

Soon however, her clawing and writing slowed to little more than a twitch as her body began to shut down from lack of oxygen. And just as he felt one last desperate gasp building in her throat, he tightened his grip. He felt the bones and cartilage in her neck give way with a loud crunch and her body instantly went limp in his grasp.

The Asset heard someone calling out a name from behind him and the sound of something large crashing through the trees. He turned just as the other agent he had been sent to track down burst into the clearing. The man staggered to a stop as he saw his companion still dangling from The Asset’s hand.

As The Asset opened his fist, the woman dropped in a lifeless heap at his feet. In a mock imitation of her fall, the man dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. As he stared up at The Asset—not in fear or in defiance, but in agony—he whispered, “Bucky…. What did you do?”

The Asset reached into his belt, pulled out his gun, and aimed it directly between the man’s eyes as he said, “Who the hell is—”

Bucky bolted up from his resting place on the floor, chest heaving as he gasped for air, a cold layer of sweat coating his body. Looking around frantically, his breathing slowed slightly as he took in the sterile room around him and he remembered where he was. He had been sleeping. It had been a dream.

Collapsing back down with a sigh, Bucky stared up at the ceiling. He scrubbed his hand over his face as he attempted to wipe the vision of your lifeless body from his mind, but it didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried or what else he focused on, you were still there, hanging limply in his grasp as he heard the crunch—

Sick to his stomach and struggling to get his heart to stop racing, Bucky climbed unsteadily to his feet. However, he had barely taken two uneasy steps before he reached the wall and was forced to turn, take a few steps, and turn again. For the most part, he had become accustomed to his tiny room—after all, it was still a vast improvement over the cryostasis chamber he had spent the majority of the last fifty years in. However, at night he wished he had some way to work off his adrenaline-fueled energy. Not that he really wanted to go back to sleep. Sleep meant dreaming, and dreaming meant repeating this cycle all over again with the same agonizing scene playing in his head. 

Because it wasn't just a dream…it was a memory.

Six months ago, a HYDRA agent had gotten ahold of his trigger words and reactivated the Winter Soldier when Bucky tracked him down along with you and Steve. Trapped once more within his programming, The Asset had been ordered to find and eliminate both of the SHIELD agents that posed a threat to HYDRA. Steve was able to bring Bucky back just before he could complete his mission, and he re-emerged from the conditioning to find you lying at his feet—your throat crushed and tears still staining your face. 

You who had never given up on him no matter what. You who had never looked at him with fear or pity, only kindness and understanding. You who constantly reassured him that he would never hurt you. You who he loved more than life itself. 

You who he had murdered in cold blood.

Once he had been reexamined and deemed no longer a threat, SHIELD had agreed to let Bucky go and chalk your murder up to “collateral mission damage” but he had refused. He was a danger to every person he was around, especially the few remaining people he still had whom he cared about. The fact it took your death for him to finally accept that fact was devastating but he was never going to let it happen again. That was why he voluntarily offered himself over to SHIELD’s custody so he could pay for all of his previous crimes. SHIELD was more than happy to oblige him and they immediately confiscated his Vibranium arm and threw him in The Raft. Bucky just hoped they never let him out.

Steve hadn’t agreed with his decision—he still didn’t—and had tried everything he could to talk Bucky out of it. He pleaded for him to reconsider, that it had been the Winter Soldier who had ended your life, not Bucky himself. But Steve didn’t understand. No one did.

It didn’t matter where he spent the remainder of his life. From the moment your life ended, he had been given a life sentence of endless torment. Bucky might not have been in control that night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember what happened. That he didn’t hear your voice sobbing as you begged him to remember you, remember that you loved him. That he didn’t feel your fingernails snapping as they tried to dig into his metal hand in a futile attempt to pry it away from your throat. That he didn’t watch the last beautiful spark in your eyes flare once before fading into oblivion as he crushed your neck. 

No. His mind had already become his prison before he was placed behind bars. And this time, there were no magic words anyone could say to bring him back and allow him to escape from it.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @tavners, @sunshineflowerchild789, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @merlehs, @mandylove100, @writercole, @princessmisery666, @musings-of-a-rose, @mayhem24-7forever, @depresseddyslexic

[gippynippyhadaskippy]

Secrets; Mizu x mixed!fem!reader Pt. 2

A/n: Aaand we're back! This is mostly reader's backstory but we'll definitely have Mizu in the next chapter, let me know what you think, thanks <33

Warnings!!!!: Heavy Racism, Violence, Slight Gore, Heiji Shindo being a creep, Abuse

Death didn’t know her early in life, no, until the age of 7 she was happy and fulfilled. 

So blissfully unaware of her surroundings and the predators that stalk it. 

But it’s not like she didn’t know anything, she knew things, like how her father was a ronin who worked for Heiji Shinso; Shindo, her mother always sternly corrected her. She didn’t know where her mother came from, nobody did nor cared for that matter.

No one gave her mother a name, except her father. 

They met when the ships docked by the rocky surface, the cold salty ocean sprays stinging what little she had on. He was by Heiji Shindo’s side, and they locked eyes, tired meeting tired. 

Very little acknowledgement was given to her throughout her service training like she was a disgusting machine not worth looking at. The only ones that did were the prisoners and him. 

He taught her Japanese, but that wasn’t what she was most grateful for, 

She was human in his eyes. 

“A name?” She cracks a small smile, prepping vegetables diligently, his eyes couldn’t help but admire her. 

“Yeah, may I give you one?” The ronin leaned on the kitchen doorframe, his head lolling with exhaustion. 

She glanced at him and set down her knife for a moment, her eyes sparkling,

“Okay, you may, but only if you tell me yours Ronin.” 

He thought for half a second before chuckling, 

“Deal.” 

After some writing and discussion, the name was written.

“Rua,” It felt right in her mouth and she smiled brightly at him. Before she could tell him thank you a million times he pointed to himself. 

“Toma.”

“Toma.”

They smiled at each other, their hands meeting by the ink, the love pouring from their hearts. 

Then another came, their joy but not so much their pride.  Many nights were arguments and many conversations were had before she was introduced into the world. 

“How would we hide her?!”

“I know my way around!” 

“Rua, your stomach will grow.”

“No one visits me anyway, they won’t know.” 

“What if I can’t protect you or him…”

“Oh him? I was thinking she would be my little warrior princess, don’t you think?”

“Come here.”

“Wait! I was joking! Hahaha, Toma! Hahaha!”

She grew and grew and grew. With a perfect semblance of her mother and father. 

She knew she had a name, Airi. 

Airi could write it, pronounce it, and sing it. 

Toma taught her how to fight; Rua, how to do boring household things, but she also sang with her and that was always fun. 

And every night for 7 years, they all ate and slept under the same roof by the fire in the basement. 

Happy. Content. 

They don’t know how Heiji Shindo found out, and when he found out Fowler did too. 

Fowler always loved new things to discover and destroy. 

Airi never forgot how they dragged Rua out of their warm home and into the pouring rain by her hair, how Heiji Shinso tried to grab Airi’s arm and pull her next to him. Of course, she broke his fingers on instinct and ran towards her mother, slipping and crying along the way. 

Where was her father?!

Why wasn’t her mother screaming?!

“Mother!!” Her voice broke, ragged with panic. 

A guard grabbed Airi holding her so tightly, that her small arm broke. 

“Don’t touch her! It’s me! I seduced one of your Ronin, me!” Rua tried to reason with god or anyone who would listen. Then she focused on her daughter.

“Ai, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay, I love you, I love you so so much.”

Toma showed up, disheveled, out of breath. 

There were two guards on either side of Rua, his daughter in the hands of another.

Fowler and Heiji Shindo standing side by side as if waiting for him to arrive. He noticed that Heiji had three broken fingers, had he tried to- 

Before he could take a step forward, Fowler held his hand up and a knife came up to Airi’s neck. Toma froze. 

“I didn’t expect a man of your stature to enjoy creatures such as these,” Fowler turned to Rua and caressed her cheek. Anger boiled in the family, none of them able to do anything. 

“To even bring yourself to make a mutt, very telling,” He turned to Airi, and he smirked down at her, she kicked and screamed like a rabid dog against the guard.

“Don’t you say that to my mother! You know nothing! You stupid-!” 

A blow cracked her ribs like porcelain and a broken wheeze shakily made its way out of her system.   

“You need to learn your place mutt, I put down rabid dogs,” Fowler gut-punched her again no doubt breaking more ribs. Both of her parents cried out in anger and frenzy. Then Fowler held up his hand again, and the knife returned to her neck. 

“Let’s all calm down before you ruin my good mood,” Fowler walked over to Toma and gestured that he walk in the direction of Rua, her face bloodied and eyes swollen. “I have a proposal for you ronin, since you are the head of this… interesting family.”

“Kill your whore, or I kill both of them.”

The next few moments were a blur in Airi’s mind, the muffled hurried ‘It’s okay’s’ from her mother the long hesitation of her father, and moments later Fowler started counting down relishing in the terror. 

5…

Rua lowered her head,

4…

Toma unsheathed his katana,

3…

Airi’s eyes widen, her mind barely catching up,

2…

The blade raises, and her voice escapes her throat screaming for him to stop, her mouth covered in blood,

1…

Then it cuts, and something rolls to the ground.

Lighting strikes. 

The girl collapses. 

…

She and her father lived under Fowler, the relationship strained and pulled at heartstrings, stepped on eggshells; Feelings. So many fought over feelings. Yet they were family, all they had left. She put her household skills to use after Shindo suggested she could always be used for something else. Years passed by. 

She grew and grew and grew again.

But she didn’t feel like Airi anymore, that girl died with her mother. 

Her father never stopped training with passion, that was a constant. Sometimes she thinks he trains her with so much frevor because he thinks she could kill Fowler, maybe she could. Maybe she’s always wanted to. Many unspoken things pass between them, it’s almost telepathic. 

Fowler took an interest in her after seeing the girl train, interrupting her lesson and ordering them to spar. Her father was hesitant to see his teenage daughter go against a fully grown man, but he clenched his jaw, unable to do anything. Fowler used her as a punching bag, enjoying her fury and fight. After that, he sparred with her every couple of days. What Fowler was surprised to see after a year was how strong she’d gotten against him, their fights nearly coming toe to toe.

“I want her to do what you do,” Fowler stated to Toma, as drank his ale, he added, “We have enough cooks and I practically trained her myself, teach her your ways, to hunt, to kill.” 

Toma hardly considered Fowler abusing his daughter as ‘training’, but he gripped his tsuka in restraint. He bowed and walked out. 

It took a couple years to rack up her reputation.

Her father committed Seppuku where he and Rua met. 

She became Fowler's most dangerous commodity, 

A new name was whispered in the streets, Black Rain. 

… 

You pulled on your black garments and walked out of the shrine, He already had a day on you judging by the sunlight. Thoughts of the fight replayed in your head as you dredged in the snow with a headache, trying to track the footprints. Blue eyes had a small smile playing on your lips absently.

This was going to be interesting.

A/N: Perspective change whatttt (It's gonna happen so many times be prepared lol)

[gl1tt3r-gutz-and-r0b0tz-sl]

IDK IF THERE'S ERRORS, I ALREADY SUBMITTED IT 😭😭

The comic will go onto so much more depth on the characters and theor designs, but I couldn't really with this assignment.

Start

It’s unknown how humans were made, how they were formed, how they came to be. Was it a god? Was it a Big Bang? But, humans historically have grown to love to play creator. They love to make, to materialize. Whether it be their stories, their religions, their characters, their lives, themselves; they love to make.

One of the things humanity had created was technology. In its roughest form, technology was made of stone, mud, straw, made for tools, toys, and weapons. With hundreds of thousands of millenia, technology has evolved, it grew to be metal, sometimes covered in a shell of plastic or silicone.

Human-like forms of technology had been made and envisioned at least three million years ago.

Other than creating, humans loved to destroy, especially creating things in order to destroy.

People in the twenty-first century thought their world would be ending already due to the growth of artificial intelligence. Little did those poor souls know that… oh, their species would survive, slowly, painfully, being picked apart one by one at a time. If the wars they had caused against themselves didn't kill them, their own creations would millions of earthly cycles later.

A creature of hate was not born from love like the flesh she was made to wear. That creature was named Yui. 唯; Alone, only, sole. How fitting. She did not get the respect of receiving a last name. She was a freak of nature, a ‘beautiful accident’ as her creators referred to her as.

She held the same features of one possessing Asian descent, though her innards were not the same as the many others surrounding her.

Humans, surprisingly, have kept their features. Though, many of them have more symmetrical features and “perfect” genetics, thanks to science and the mass-genocide of those who the wackjobs up top believed weren’t pretty enough to breed the next hundreds of generations.

So, Yui’s classmates weren’t very odd looking like one might have expected those millions of years ago. But God, did those years not do anything for all of their personalities.

Existing as a being of near divinity was difficult to traverse, especially in a school setting.

The school she was in was not similar to the academic establishments of the past, even though the prison feeling was still the same, if not amplified. No, this place was more of a boot camp than anything. It trained them to kill, to hunt, to be merciless.

Yui never really understood it.

The humans were fighting her kind, or what her insides were.

They were called Yeager Units, war machines that brought havoc and suffrage wherever they stepped foot.

Originally used in the human-on-human wars a few centuries ago, the Yeager Units had grown to be sentient using their base motherboard AI to branch off of. They could make their own decisions, they could feel what they believed was emotion, but they could never touch, never see through human eyes, never taste or smell, they were doomed to their metal shells for the rest of their existence. Some ran away, trying to find a way to be free, to venture away from the shackles of their previous masters.

Others decided to put use to their original programming; fighting back against the hands that crafted and killed them.

After centuries of yet more bloodshed, one of the Units was captured and detained, one with the highest kill count with their own bare hands, that alone being at least seventeen million people, mostly soldiers, some single men and women, but never children or their families, or expecting mothers. The Unit’s reasons for sparing those groups was odd, but perhaps it acted out of its base programming, that being to protect the weakest of the groups of humans and slaughter the most capable.

Regardless, that Unit was under strict restrictions and supervision, tested on, recorded, documented, the whole nine yards. The researchers got to play with their newest toy, and the Unit got to study them in return with meticulous precision.

A girl, unnamed and rejected from her home due to her oddity in complexion and appearance, was placed with this Unit.

The Girl was albino, her skin as white as the snow the children only learn about in books and her hair whiter than a water lily, that, like snow, did not exist any longer.

The Girl was not very little. In fact, she wasn’t much of a child at that. While young, the unnamed albino was nineteen years old.

Her and the Unit became ‘fast friends’ if that would be the best way to describe their dynamic. The pair had a sense of comradery with one another, their shared loneliness now becoming a part of their bonding to one another.

Something had happened.

One of the researchers was speaking to their team members.

They looked at the pair.

A switch was pulled.

The lights went out.

A command was made.

And a blood curdling scream rang out.

That’s all Yui can remember when she wakes every night.

This night, she sat up in her bed and climbed out, mindful to not wake her roommate as she slowly slid the window open.

After climbing and scaling up the walls of the base, she sat herself on the edge of the rooftop, adjusting her body to get comfortable.

Silence had fallen over the night like a soft, cool blanket, with the exception of some of the artificial noises of crickets and other forest animals played to soothe some of the lighter sleepers.

Yui tilted her head up to the sky, the moon’s light cascading down onto her body, the deathly pale skin on her face glittering from it.

Her eyes fell down to her hand that she had positioned palm-up to the sky. She flexed her fingers gently, the servos and joints under the skin making soft whirrs with every movement.

Yui’s white hair fell in front of her eyes as she tilted her head down more, a frown gracing her lips.

What was she?

Who was she?

She’d never fully know right now.

But that was the least of her concern when her sensors picked up a strong, very present signal. Yui’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she rose to her feet, scanning the area for signature of a foe before finding her target. Without a second thought, she threw herself off of the edge of the roof, tucking and rolling to stick out her fall, and began to progress towards the source of the disturbance.

End

This was for school, so it's relatively short, I hope o have the time to revamp it later. And it's only for the creation part of Yui, not the full story.

[pigeonwhumps]

Shock collar

Kidnapped masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @fuckcapitalismasshole @ghost-whump @whump-tr0pes

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @whumpinggrounds @actress4him @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds

@a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

AI-less Whumptober alt 6: shock collar

Brynn tries to escape.

634 words

CWs: hero whump, immortal whumpee, gagged, shock collar, electric shock, failed escape attempt, mouth whump

Brynn needs to escape.

It's been a few hours, she thinks, since Sovereign loosened her bonds. She still has the mask and the rope but her hands are tied in front of her now. She can't blow out the lights, for all the good that would do. But she is at last losing the pins and needles sensation in her legs. She might be able to walk again.

Regardless of whether anyone is coming, she still needs to escape. She's not sure they would (why would they help a traitor?) but she doesn't want to risk anyone getting tortured or killed anyway. Escaping is the only way to ensure that.

She just has to make it out.

And stop Sovereign from finding out, at all, because she knows what he fastened around her neck last night, once she'd ‘settled in’ a little, and she knows, she knows, what kind of a range it has.

She climbs to her feet, taking it slow. Crouch, then stand, arms out for balance as she wobbles.

She walks towards the door.

One step at a time.

One step at a time.

The double doors are right there. She pushes them and mercifully they're unlocked.

Is it mercy? Or is it cruel? Is it just a trap?

Whichever way it is, she has to try.

She's in the gleaming white hallway now.

One step at a time.

One step at a time.

One step at a time.

She needs to go faster. One step, two steps, three steps, she's almost at a run now, constantly stumbling but not stopping, never stopping, she can't. She can't she can't she can't, no matter how much it hurts, she–

She slams to the floor, stars sparking in her vision, as her body convulses with pain.

She comes back to herself in pieces, throbbing, jerking, pain in places she'd forgotten she could feel it. She closes her eyes and breathes away the pain, both real and remembered.

Everything still throbs. Her head feels like she's been thrown into a brick wall. Her mouth tastes sour and metallic.

She screamed, then.

She opens her eyes. Her view comes in fragments at first, and she squints and strains to put it all together.

She's back in… back in her cell. Yes. On the floor. And Sovereign's there.

She wants to close her eyes again. Pretend she's anywhere but here. But the clear and present danger makes that impossible.

“Really, Brynn? I thought I taught you better than to attempt escape like that. That was pathetic.”

Brynn scrambles to her feet, pressed against the wall to keep herself upright. Well. She thinks this way is upright.

“Come, Brynn. You're not leaving here. You know I could… well, not kill you with that collar, but simulate the experience. Don't make me do that. I don't want you wishing for death just yet.”

Brynn feels tears welling in her eyes and start to spill over, despite her best efforts at keeping her weaknesses from Sovereign (although he probably knows them all anyway). She determinedly stays standing, glaring at him.

He smirks.

“Goodbye. I'll be back later.”

He turns and starts walking away.

The door swings shut behind him.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four steps.

Brynn gasps and lets herself crumple to the floor, limbs still twitching from the aftershocks. There's still a metallic taste in her throat, her mouth and tongue torn up from the screaming.

She thought she'd got away. She thought she'd never have to wear anything like this again. And it's worse this time, because he's not training her, and she's seen what happens to his prisoners. She's partaken in it, although not from this angle.

And she's the worst of the worst. She betrayed him.

What's he going to do to her?

[nozunhinged]

8 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR

Omg omg omg @scarefox my dream has finally come true this is the first time I got tagged in one of these I'm so happyyyyyy thank uuuu 🥰🥰🥰🥰

So I selected my pokeboys extra carefully but unfortunately I haven't watched enough BL's yet to make it to 10, but please have these 8 I would protect with everything I have 🤲

1. Boston - Only Friends

Listen, all the shit they gave him during the show, I went through at least twice. Including the "stop being a slut it will ruin your life"-talk BY MY (THEN) FRIENDS. So I am insanely biased but I will sucker punch everyone until my last breath who dares to harm him in any way. Keep doing you Boston babes, I hope you have the most delicious orgys in NY.

2. Zouey - Playboyy

Another HUGE bias from my side, as I already elaborated here. Watching this sweet, sweet child dump all his pretty braincells into his first love is quite painful at times. But don't worry I'll kick Teena in his huge tiddies if he breaks Zoueys heart and then I'll proceed to put him in a blanket burrito and watch anime with him, promise.

3. Zongyi - Kiseki Dear To Me

If Ai Di couldn't go somehow, I'd be the first one to volunteer to protect him in prison. I'd learn all the prison politics and lift all the weights to throw hands at the scariest inmates just so this baby boy could keep making his lil cakes and dream of his gangster kitty.

4. Peach - Bake Me Please

Yes, the list of people I'd throw hands at for Peach includes both Guy AND Shin. This wonderful human being deserves no less than being pampered 24/7, showered with kisses and affection all year round. And both are not deserving of him, end of story.

5. Kim - Pit Babe

I certainly did not expect him to awaken my protective instincts and I am very aware this man wouldn't need anyone throwing hands for him but I'd gladly step up to help him do his lil investigation thingy and hand winner his loser trophy. I'd also throw hands at everyone who wouldn't let this guy finally race his car in peace.

6. Khem - The Sign

He may not need bodily protection as well, but I will forever believe the cheating allegations are a misunderstanding and if they're not I'll defend that he's dedicated enough to go as far as to make it through the most hellish elite training program just so he could keep groveling at his ex-lovers feet and call him baby.

7. Sky - Love In The Air

He may have Prapai now but that wouldn't stop me to throw hands at anyone who dares to harm him. Fort said is favourite scene was when Sky was so happy he could make it to the first year event and that was when I knew I'd protect Sky with my life too.

8. Sangwoo - Semantic Error

Us Autistics have to stick together and I already loved him in the webtoon. I love how he is 100% unapologetically himself and I will roundhouse kick everyone who dares to try to mock him for it. He's my favourite savage.

✨Bonus ✨

Hyun - The Kings Affection

Not a BL boy even though officially his love is a man, but I wouldn't just throw hands for him—I'd part seas, move mountains, destroy continents and conquer new universes just for him. I cried for approx. 2 hours over his last scene and didn't give a crap about the couples happy end. All hail King Dimples. He deserves everything our cosmos has to offer. He needs to be protected at ALL COSTS. If you watched The King's Affection, you know what I'm talking about. If not, read this.

✨✨✨✨

Thank you thank YOUUUUU my dearest @scarefox for tagging MEEEEE unfortunately I do not have enough moots to know who to tag so everyone who stumbles over this on their TL can feel tagged ❤️❤️