#immoral network au

[echostarz123]

i already sent this in...but!

my submission for @tulipsempai 's banner!

(Immoral Network au because I'm insane)

[echostarz123]

*cough cough* purple- *cough cough*

i love this character so much......i hope they get seriously injured and almost die

[shuobox]

Hiii * kicks my feet as i try and make sense of your vague backstory *

Cassie rose…. White pumpkin beloved . wowie

Her backstory is so like. I want to study her like a bug sometimes. What on gods green earth is going on with her and the old builders

While thinking about it i pieced together a very delusional viewpoint of what i THINK mightve happened that would make cassie so . intent. on getting “”home””

(Inspired off of @/zoomire ‘s prodigy!cassie + vamp!cassie hc/au)

When the Atlas (portal hallway but like, not a hallway, think more like… layered backrooms cube with weird gravity and staircases. like those illusion paintings. With portals everywhere) was at its beginnings, found and studied by the old builders, the group was carefully discovering these new and strange places.

It didn’t take long for them to gather that these places can be dangerous. But where theres danger there are endless bounties that are BEYOND valuable in price.

It’s what helped them make this odd… …town? Place? When Harper created the respawn machine from parts gathered from the other worlds, it changed so much. Harper and Otto (and a certain… man) knew to be wary, but Mevia and Hadrian wanted to harness this newfound discovery by the reigns. It would be a waste, after all.

It didn’t take long for them to realize that it is verrrry easy to die out in these places. Its dangerous and its no good trying to juggle handling these games and something with boundless potential that is the Atlas.

Hadrian and Mevia knew the other three wouldn’t agree to it under any circumstance, ever. It was beyond immoral in a lot of ways, put simply, but the two had already discussed and planned and prepared.

They snuck out and into the Atlas as they usually did, no one batting an eye, and it was a few hours before they emerged. Hadrian holding a small, sleeping toddler.

To say Harper had questions and Otto was beyond appalled that they pulled a whole person— no less a child— into their world, far from their original home, would be an understatement.

Hadrian reassured they found the child when she was being held captive in a dying town with illagers patrolling all around. It was for the benefit of the child, if nothing else.

They didn’t argue. Much. They were aware that trying to wander back in and place the child back exactly to where she was would be useless; Hadrian and Mevia knew the portals better than they did and they weren’t letting up. Otto gave up; the debate that had settled between Harper and Hadrian did grant him the slightest idea to create something to navigate the Atlas.

Cassie grew up alongside the old builders. She’d learn from Harper most of Redstone and general morals and advice; Hadrian would teach her about combat and the games (to say Cassie found him as the least favourite teacher would be an understatement), Otto taught her to read and write, and once she was older, Mevia taught her about the more brutal sides of anatomy, where to strike and how fast or slow depending on the reaction you want.

When Cassie was 15, she was handed the Atlas Compass (because i dont ljke the idea of there being a book that just wooshes a big arrow to where u need to go), benign tools, and pushed into the portal network with a simple task. An easy one at first; find an ore you wouldn’t usually find back at home through one of the realms. Document a mob and bring back a body part of it. Etc, etc

She didn’t know much about the Atlas. The old builders never told her much— only vague information and that she’ll understand when she’s older.

The tasks would get a bit harder, a bit more complex each time; juggling beating the living hell out of people in the games when her tools had expended their use and fighting back swarms of mobs fetching items and blocks and finding a portal back.

She always sought praise that came from Hadrian himself. He was the mastermind of the games after all; the one who’d fearlessly taken her out from a terrible predicament when she was younger, one she hardly remembers anyway, and had always travelled the Atlas with confidence.

He always told her that he had such high hopes and expectations for her; that what she’s doing is worth it, that she’ll understand everything, and that he’s so, so proud of the way she turned out.

Supposedly.

—

Okay i give up on writing anything further because head hurty ouuu

Cassie would like. Eventually snap with the whole having to be champion over and over again to please hadrian because him seeming disappointed in her hurt cassie (saw him as a father figure lol) and also the whole thing with her having to toil through the Atlas and if she didn’t she’d get shoved in there anyway

After Harper leaves (and certain someone) and theres nobody shedding a positive light on cassie’s life anymore; she slowly starts going numb and then haywire from a cycle that is seemingly never making the three old builders satisfied

After the two leave Hadrian and Mevia get more and more harsh and expecting of Cassie; occasionally just getting her to do the work for them

maybe when she comes back all beaten and bruised and wounded after the games or after an expedition and is sent back to the atlas the next day when she’s hardly healed up enough, saying she has to do this again and so on— it makes her crack . and she attempts to attack Mevia. effectively killing her but the respawn machine causes her to come back anyway . maybe a fire happens in the process bcz of mevia’s tnt tendencies idk

Listen. Mevia and Hadrian are like. They are not good influences on anybody and were especially not to younger Cassie. They are nnnnnot built to try and raise easily influenceable kids. They are terrible parental/guardian figures that Cassie looked up to and sought appreciation for

(I mean, Hadrian always described Cassie as *his* kid. And so did the players of the games. )

Otto tries to get through to Cassie with words but accidentally distracted her as Hadrian already knocks her out and just sort of. Drags her into a dimension far away . Otto feeling guilt knowing he probably could’ve done something or reached out but it being too late now; tossing her into a quiet and dreary dimension where the nights are twice longer and dead rise stronger. Leaving her for dead.

And Cassie wakes up. beaten and limbs weak dragging herself to wherever she can find shelter . mind recollecting moments of before her impromptu snork mimimi time . and just like her role models all she can think about is causing immense suffering to all of them

(Hadrian and Mevia for obvious reasons, Otto for not doing anything and standing by watching, Harper and yay you guessed it Soren — for leaving)

and yeaa she like sets the traps and kills plany of people with several fruitless attempts at her murder mansion before the order of the stone come along and trap her in her own trap

(White pumpkin in this ver is … WAYYY more brutal…. Girl has a lot of pent up rage and shes learnt from the most gruesome sadistic ppl out there)

BUT ☝️ that was in fact not the end for her

But i don’t want to say too much bcz j want to reveal the last oc and then make a big ol post about my ramblings of my au . so huzzah

Headcanun time

- when I say she jokes in subtle ways I mean she’ll super casually slip it into a convo. She finds this incredibly amusing

- got Winslow when she was around ~13 or so. Would talk to her cat when she was alone and still does it today

^ Winslow got caught in one of Mevia’s explosives/fire, resulting in the loss of his leg :o( she didn’t talk to Mevia for months when it happened

- enjoys painting and reading to pass the time. Does not understand the concept of public libraries and will just take a book if she wants it (she doesn’t have a preference for any particular genre)

- got her whole “white pumpkin” alter ego idea from a murder mystery book she read from Otto’s collection

- she actually has really good wording on whatever she’s feeling. Mainly struggles to be vulnerable enough to say it aloud.

- still holds some spite towards Harper, Soren and Otto but ☝️ at least its not murderous intent anymore

- prefers axes and daggers above other weapons

- has a phobia of deep, dark waters + claustrophobic. Doesn’t like rain purely because it gets her wet and she dislikes the feeling.

- cut her hair around the time she was stuck in the mansion. Yes that means she has been there for a while given when the order of the stone came by, cassie’s hair was nearer to her shoulders.

^ ties it up now so it doesn’t get in the way as much

- Winslow likes sitting/laying across her shoulders like some weird lil scarf when he doesn’t feel like walking. Cassie loves it when he does this because she can hear and feel him purring

- enjoys logic puzzles/puzzles in general. Enjoys it even more when its a particularly complex one, even if its needlessly difficult. (Gets it from Harper…)

(Oc is next !! ヽ(ヅ)ノ also i suck at wording cassies story soz)

[thevillaincentral]

𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲 ⁰³ | the shakedown.

𝙑𝙄𝙇𝙇𝘼��𝙉 𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙇 . . .

also known as the underworld, is an 18+ only multifandom network that was created as a way for us to shed more light and appreciation on our favourite villainous bastards.

maybe they were painted that way, seen as monsters and cast out by society, or maybe they were simply just insane — either way they’re all welcome here.

there are no limits — anything from creeps, scumbags, criminals, sleazes, murderers, monsters, incels, yanderes, perverts, bullies even kinks you consider immoral are all fair play. this is a safe space for you to let out all your filthy fantasies on the most debauched characters!

𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆 𝙏𝙊 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙀𝙍-𝙐𝙋𝙎 . . .

𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸?

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𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴?

as the name suggests, we will be focusing on villains. formats of any kinds from headcanons, drabbles, thirsts, scenarios and etcetera are permitted — sfw, nsfw and dark content will also be observed around the network. events, collabs and artwork can be added into the rotation too.

𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁?

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𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼 𝘄𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗲’𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀?

they don’t always have to be murderers or killers exactly — any characters you’d consider to be the antagonist or morally grey are allowed. AU’s where you’ve written them as assholes, manipulators, bullies or just someone that does fucked up shit all count as well.

𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲?

all of ‘em! our main focus will be on haikyuu, my hero academia, tokyo revengers, jujutsu kaisen and attack on titan but other fandoms e.g demon slayer, bleach, kuroko no basketball, and many more are acceptable.

𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗿?

yes, it is still in the making as of right now. we will be making an announcement when it is up and running.

( . . . ) if you have any additional questions, come have a chat with us, darling.

[moonbeamsung]

CRΣΣKS

Love, a second glance, it is not something that we need.

member: jeno

au: guardian angel in disguise!jeno x gn!reader, guardian angel au

word count: 3.4k

genre: angst

warnings: character death/loss, profanity, no happy ending, mentions of religion, questioning/loss of faith

recommended song: 715 - CRΣΣKS by the nor’easters

author’s note: Please be very careful with volume when listening to the song (above) that inspired this story! But even without reading the lyrics/listening, the fic will still make sense, and happy reading :)

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown

The wind is whistling, weaving in and out of the tall river reeds like an invisible needle and thread, stitching itself into each and every crevice of the world’s gift called nature.

Another one of its many gifts is the young boy that’s resting beside a rushing brook, toes dipped into the cool water and face illuminated by the sun as it beats down onto the earth with celestial strength.

Well, a gift from the heavens, that is.

Sent from the endless skies above, Jeno is your guardian angel, assigned with posing as a humble peasant boy in the village, all to keep a watchful eye on you from afar. In his human form, he spends his days wandering the cobblestone roads and narrow alleyways between the quaint buildings, with no family to return home to at dusk. A sunny meadow on the outskirts of town becomes his home, and he takes refuge in the shelter that the overgrown grass provides.

Everything is going smoothly, and he’s doing his job just as he should be. It’s routine now, waking up and rising from his earthen mattress, curtains of copious plant leaves letting in the sun’s rays. He finds you, observes at a comfortable distance, and that’s that. At its core, being a guardian is really an easy job. A predictable one.

A monotonous one.

Until one day you approach him, youthful eagerness in your eyes piercing and nearly painful, even to his invulnerable body. He’s never seen you up close before, only on the near horizon as you’ve gone about your daily chores, tending to the housework just like any obedient child should.

“...Who are you?”

Now, Jeno is faced with a decision more challenging than any that us mortal beings have to make in our entire lives. Engaging with one’s assignment is an extremely dangerous path to take. Unimaginable punishments await, should the guardian make a wrong choice. But Jeno was careless, and he had allowed himself to be discovered by the only human on Earth that the divine forces permit him to be seen by.

He makes the fatal error of answering you, ultimately shattering a future he’ll never get to live out, one that he doesn’t even know he would’ve had. Like a sharp rock being thrown at a church’s stained glass window, the meticulously carved pieces of his worldly existence fall to the ground with a deafening crash, broken beyond repair.

“I’m Jeno,” the strikingly majestic cadence of his words is like that of angel trumpets, the sound ringing in your head and making you dizzy with both fascination and infatuation.

And just like that, in three short syllables, you’re both fated to fall before you can even spread your wings.

From the moment you hear his name tumble from those beautiful lips, you’re hooked, and he knows it. He sees it in the way you look at him, in the way you act, the way you talk. A child experiencing a first and a forbidden love all at once.

It breaks his heart, because he knows it can’t, and shouldn’t last. The churning rapids of the creek nearby weep for him, for they know that in a matter of just a few short years, their waters are destined to mix with the salty tears that will steadily cascade from your trembling chin.

Jeno remembers, although vaguely, the brief amount of time he spent living amongst the clouds, being prepared by the heavenly elders for this expedition of a lifetime, quite literally. He remembers the scriptures, the strictures, and all the times he’s been warned of the severe consequences that come with immorality.

But even the purest of young angels aren’t infallible, still susceptible to compulsions that lead them to sin and defy their creator.

Relishing in the fading daylight, you join him by the water’s edge, listening to his soothing tone as he answers your ceaseless inquiries with harmless little lies as white as heavenly robes and cherub wings.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. The first sin.

It’s interesting, he thinks, that despite looking after you in the endeavors of your youth for quite a while now, he knows next to nothing about who you truly are. Actions may speak louder than words, but how can he know that if he’s never heard your voice to begin with?

As the quiet, languid conversation shifts from his purpose there to yours, Jeno learns that you’re very content with your life, taking pride in helping your family with daily tasks as well as assisting your neighbors in the close-knit village with theirs.

Just then, all the smears of dirt and scattered scratches adorning your face catch his attention, gained after hours of hard work. No amount of water is ever enough to scrub them off of your skin at the end of the day, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes, you feel tears prick your eyes as you try to fall asleep at night, frustrated with your lowly appearance and how it never seems to match your relatively optimistic outlook on life.

But Jeno doesn’t care. You’re breathtaking even in his eyes, the eyes that belong to an actual angel. If that fact alone isn’t enough to boost your confidence, he doesn’t know what else possibly could.

Like a fool, he lets himself drown in your sublimity for a moment, marveling at the ethereal glow of the sun on your smooth, ageless face. The faint noise of wisps of air blowing gently through the meadow and rustling the flora makes him drowsy, but the sight of a pure white heron landing gracefully on the opposite side of the riverbank brings him back to full consciousness in an instant.

The bird, an omen of sorts, had been sent down from Heaven, conjured up from a fleeting idea and into a physical reality, by the holy beings looking down upon the earth, indicating that they’re well aware of the threat he poses and just how close he is to making an irreversible mistake in regards to you, his assignment and assignment only.

The heron abruptly unfurls its delicately feathered wings, as if frightened, before taking off and floating away on the breeze, both of your gazes inexplicably drawn to it as it flies until it’s out of sight altogether.

It warns him of just what he’s messing with, exactly.

This is not a part of the creator’s plan for you, for him. Falling in love with the one an angel is supposed to guard is an appalling crime to commit in the eyes of the elders that inhabit the sky, in the eyes of God. Though it doesn’t explicitly go against a commandment or biblical law, it’s just an understood rule. It’s wrong.

Jeno tells himself this, and continues to do so over the many years that he looks after you, never acting on his emotions, only acknowledging them before sending the less-than-acceptable thoughts into the depths of his conscious mind. He only wishes he had a key to lock them up and forget he even felt them in the first place.

Even as an angel, he ages just like anyone else, the both of you going from kids to teenagers and then nearing the young-adult stage of life, with you remaining blissfully unaware of Jeno’s true identity all the while. It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep his secret for this long, honestly, but like grains of sand in an hourglass, your time together is running out, whether you like it or not.

Not even a year before your entire world, your entire reality comes undone before your very eyes, Jeno feels as if his has already done just that. Because you’ve found someone. And that someone isn’t him.

He hates the feeling of jealousy, despises it with every fiber of his heavenly being. But he can’t shake it, can’t bear the way it clings to him like an unwelcome visitor. An unrecognizable emotion, one so foreign that he can’t even put a name to it, is stirred up at the sight of you in their arms, so pure and so unworthy of this person. Boy, if he didn’t know any better, Jeno would swear that you were the angel.

With each day that passes, he begins to feel the final shreds of both his dignity and his self-control slipping away, lost to the familiar breeze that whips through the village, stronger than ever these days. He can no longer contain it within himself. He wants you.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. The second sin.

How ironic that a Sunday, of all days, is when everything falls apart.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, just barely grazing the horizon with its bright beams of warmth as it steadily rises, bathing the world in a soft yellow glow. You can also see the moon leftover from the night that ended not so long ago, fading fast but visible nonetheless. Two complete opposites, so close but prevented by the laws of nature for coexisting in the same space, at the same time.

Maybe, just maybe, if you knew just how much you had in common with the celestial objects above, you would have clutched the hand of Jeno a bit tighter yesterday, intertwined your fingers a little more closely with those of someone who had become the closest thing to a best friend that you had ever known. You admit that you wish he could be something more, but you know better than to push your limits.

You got tired of waiting to see if he felt the same way, choosing to fill the void with someone else that you liked, yes, but who just wasn’t the same as the boy who had always been there, waiting in the meadow every morning without fail. Still, your emotions are ever-alert and always searching for any sign of reciprocation within Jeno.

He’s nowhere to be found when you reach the water’s edge, the edge of the creek where you wasted away endless summer days and frosty winter nights, colorful spring afternoons and brisk autumn evenings.

This morning would seem no different than the rest if not for his absence. The knot in your heart loosens, but not by much, when you spot him at the forest’s edge, looking weary.

Jeno notices you and calls out your name with a smile, but something about it isn’t genuine. It’s pained, desperate, like he wants to hold onto this moment forever, unwilling to carry out the plan he’s already regretting. It’s too late now, he thinks to himself, but he’s wrong.

It’s been too late for years.

“Jeno?”

“This way!” He chokes out. It’s somewhere between a sob and a plea, but there’s no time to figure out which is the more appropriate term. He disappears between the trees and amidst their mossy branches, blending in with the shadows cast by the thick canopy of leaves, and you break into a sprint, afraid of losing him to the merciless wilderness and what lies within.

Thankfully, he’s not too far gone. A small clearing greets you less than a dozen strides in, and in the very center of it stands a glass gazebo, run-down and covered in so many twisting vines to the point where the small structure is almost fully consumed by the nature surrounding it.

The scene is beautiful, so much so that it makes you uneasy. What’s going on? Why did he bring you here? Why does he seem so sad? Jeno is never sad, maybe he could be described as brooding or solemn on the rarest of occasions, but never this melancholy, never so utterly hopeless in his expressions and his aura.

None of these questions are answered, even as he takes your hands in his own and leads you inside of the gazebo, its see-through panels catching the light with elegance and ease.

“I need to tell you something.” Just like it did the first time you heard it, his voice still shocks you like a bolt of electricity, your blood pressure and heart rate skyrocketing. All of this is heightened, though, by grim tone he’s speaking to you with.

“What is it, Jen?” There it is. The nickname you made up for him that, although simple, makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. Actually, scratch that: it makes him feel like he’s floating in the sky, up past the clouds and even further away from this cruel planet than the heavens are from Hell.

You’re only making this harder for him. He might as well just spit it out, because all this waiting is agonizing for the both of you.

“We... we can’t be together.”

The sentence that leaves his lips is two declarations wrapped up in one singular statement, the first being that he wants to be with you in the same way you want to be with him. It’s much too hopeful, misleading your emotions down a path of elation instead of dread. The second is unpleasant, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue once he says the words.

“...Yes, yes we can, Jen, because I don’t really love them and all this time it’s been you—”

“You don’t understand,” he tries to stop the confession spilling out from your heart before it overflows, drowns you. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Stunned to silence, he gives you a moment to drink in the implications of his words. “...I’ve known you for over half of my entire life, and you’re trying to tell me I have no idea who you really are? Not a chance,” you laugh softly, shaking your head and glancing down at the wooden gazebo floor, old white paint peeling under your feet.

“But haven’t you ever wondered why I’m always there by the creek every morning? How I turn up throughout your day at the perfect time? How I’m suddenly right by your side when you need me the most?”

You have wondered. Many times, in fact. But the possibility of him being anything other than human was not at the top of your very rational list.

“...Don’t you see? I’m your guardian angel.”

He sees you blink, realization dawning on your face like the sun and stretching your features. “There are laws—” He begins, but your reaction is not the one he anticipated you would have to that information.

Too overwhelmed, you can’t respond with anything other than physical actions, no matter how unreasonable, and you press your dry lips to his soft ones, sealing your fate. Standing there, with beams of golden light infiltrating the space and illuminating your unsteady figures, Jeno is petrified not by your kiss, but by the fact that he doesn’t push you away, and his hands hold onto yours even tighter than before. Nothing has ever felt so right in his entire life. Not when he was in Heaven, and not in all the years he’s spent on Earth, either.

You’re his Heaven, this moment is his eternity. Jeno has endured enough temptation, the undeniable thrill that a deliberate sin promises has become too much for him. If he pulls away now, everything would still be okay, you could both go back to normal and pretend this never happened. But alas, he was doomed to kiss you back from the beginning, and so he does, and you have no idea what the universe has in store when you feel his lips finally respond to yours in the most unholy way possible. For the first and last time, you indulge in each other’s touch and taste, and it does not please the ones watching from above.

The third and final sin, one sin too many for him to remain in this world without consequence.

Several things happen all at once. A clap of thunder sounds overhead, though there are no clouds in sight. Jeno is painfully ripped from your grasp and thrown out of the gazebo by some invisible force of nature, into the grass and dirt on the forest floor.

And inside of you, a piece of your soul is torn from your being, bile rising up in your throat as you comprehend the excruciating sensation that racks your body with pained whimpers.

Stumbling to his feet, Jeno heaves, hunched over and close to tears. Suppressing the agony you still feel, you hurry over to him only for the boy to charge away, heading back towards the open meadow. With a broken shout of his name, you follow.

You didn’t notice before, but now the blinding light reveals the condition he’s in. He looks almost normal, but the edges of his form are becoming fainter by the minute, blurring with the rest of the world around him. He’s fading away before your eyes, and it’s all your fault.

It’s a torturous experience, watching him slowly meld with the emptiness of the air. Making him disappear into thin air in an instant would have been an act of mercy, a mercy that’s apparently beyond the capabilities of the spectators in the sky.

Struggling to maintain your composure, you force a question out. “What’s happening?” You ask, though you know he doesn’t have an answer himself.

He’s obviously panicked, though he tries not to show it. “I... I don’t know, I knew that it was forbidden for us to fall in love but I didn’t think I’d be robbed of my existence like this...”

“What?! No, Jeno, please don’t go...” You beg the gods and angels above, if any exist. You don’t know anymore.

If there is a God, how can he be good if he’s taking Jeno away from you like this, depriving you of the one constant source of joy and comfort in your life?

It’s far too cruel to bestow such a kind and generous heart upon someone who isn’t allowed to love in the first place.

Even Jeno’s touch is faint, making you feel like he’s not there at all. You just barely detect the pads of his fingers smoothing over your cheeks, trying to stop the water spilling from your eyes. He smiles sadly, “Don’t cry for me. I’m not worth the tears.”

“You’re everything to me, Jeno. You’re worth every drop.”

“Remember me like this, okay? By the creek,” he gestures to the turbulent waters a short distance away. Walking slowly, he begins to take steps in its direction, but as he speeds up you’re no longer able to match his pace. “Jeno, turn around...”

Glancing back at you for the final time, he whispers a goodbye that the breeze carries away with it, the sound something only the two of you would hear, one that could never be replicated.

“Goddamnit, Jeno, don’t you dare leave me!” But you know you can’t hold on, you’re not strong enough. A greater force wants you two apart, unable to be overpowered by one human, a relatively insignificant being in the grand scheme of the universe. He vanishes completely.

You fall to your knees, the pain from the pebbles digging into your legs and feet underneath the surface of the creek numbed by your sorrow. The water drenches your clothes, splashing up onto your skin and becoming one with your relentless tears. You’re left all alone, with only the cattails to keep you company. You wish the waves would just swallow you whole so you don’t have to feel this suffocating isolation.

In an unnecessarily harsh trick of the light combined with the dancing shadows generated by the water, you swear that you see Jeno again for a second, sitting on the riverbank like always. You sob louder.

It takes forever for you to find the strength to stand up again, water running over your soaked shoes and threatening to topple you over. You wouldn’t mind if it succeeds.

Inconsolable even to your closest friends and family, you reluctantly return to the village, unwilling to leave behind what you’ve just been through and unable to explain just why you’re crying so hard. Maybe if you stay there forever, spending each day and night waiting among the reeds and the flowers and the grass, he’ll come back someday, but no. He’ll never return, but you simply can’t bring yourself to accept this fact.

You’re never quite the same after that. Part of the curse that haunts you for the rest of your life is this: no matter how hard you try to retain your memories, you’re destined to forget Jeno eventually, leaving vast gaps in your brain when it comes to the years of your youth.

You’re left with only a feeling of inexplicable nostalgia at the sight of the meadow and the creek running through it, the waters still as violent as they were on the day you lost him.

[echostarz123]

*evil laughter*

It is my time.

i like seeing them as friends... what if tdl was kind of like a mentor figure aswell? secret of course, but still

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 1: 2x25 Bread and Circuses

Today, the Classic ep, Bread and Circuses aka Star Trek: Ancient Rome AU.

Literally all of the bridge is just standing around, watching Kirk, watching Spock.

Another missing ship hmm? The S.S. Beagle. With a crew of 47--that’s small. And surprise surprise, the Captain is someone ELSE that Kirk knows. Does he know everyone in the galaxy? Truly excellent at networking.

Feels like it’s been a while since Spock called him “Jim.” Possibly because this was written early in the season, when he still did that a lot?

Another Merchant Marine, or equivalent. Interesting.

He was kicked out of the Academy in his 5th year. How many years is the Academy? I always assumed 4 but maybe it’s longer if you count like extra trainings and stuff.

Kirk is so in love with Spock talking about the planet. His face has gone all soft again.

Excellent roads--the first clue it’s Rome. (The big televised gladiator fights is the second clue.)

“I believe they called it ‘video.’“ If there’s no TV in the 23rd century, what is their entertainment? Netflix?

“We’re beaming down”--dramatic shot--dun dun dun.

Yeaaaah triumvirate!! They’re really going hard with this dynamic at this point in the series and I’m here for it.

I feel like this is the first time they’ve called the Non-Interference Directive the Prime Directive but I could be wrong. It’s certainly the first time they’ve spelled it all out.

“Behold! I am the Arch Angel Gabriel!”

“We come from another...province.” That’s a very convincing delivery. Especially paired with those outfits.

You can tell this guy’s important because he’s the only one wearing cut offs.

“We have many beliefs.” I feel like McCoy is a Southern Baptist.

Flavius: “I know killing is evil. But maybe just this one time? As a treat?”

“That’s our ship, somewhere... at sea. Yeah, our ship at sea. Not in space. That would be wacky.”

This episode is LITERALLY  “Rome AU.”

I love Spock looking through those “Elite” magazines. Doing a little research.

"Captain, I thought you might find this interesting." Hands him a magazine with a buff man on the cover. Yeah, Kirk is definitely canonically bisexual.

And he likes that car, too.

Why do all of Kirk’s friends and/or heroes lose and it and become tyrannical? At this point, it’s becoming a distressing pattern.

The SPACE ACADEMY? Damn why didn’t they keep that name?

“My dear Mr. Spock.”

And Spock’s like “You got me there, that was an example of Logic.”

Oooh, nice knit hat. Spock needs more beanies.

The son/sun pun is inspired honestly and it makes the Enterprise crew look so silly like "So you heard the words of the sun, you crackpot?" whereas he means, "I heard the words of the Son," which makes so much more sense on its face.

This Spock and Bones banter is also inspired. “Doctor, you are stealing my word, please stop.” “Medical man are trained in logic.” “I had no idea they were trained.”

Flavius is a really good character. I feel like I really understand all the sides to him: the warrior who can’t quite untrain himself from the killing instinct, even after he’s converted to Christianity and vowed to be a pacifist who loves mankind.

The triumivrate would have had so much fun together in college. If Jim they were all the same age, knew each other then, and Jim weren’t a stick in the mud at that time. “He’s sick, he’s about to double over!” “I am? Oh, yeah, I am! So sick!”

Spock immediately grabs the sword. That’s that Vulcan Warrior instinct. He does love old weaponry.

I’m considering the possibility that Merrickus is another ex-boyfriend. The vibes aren’t as strong as with that guy from A Private Little War, but there was a charged sort of look between them just then.

“He knows who and what we are.” Aliens. You’re aliens.

Oh, you want 50 Vulcans? Fifty Vulcan pacifists for the arena? A rollicking good time.

“Beam... come ashore.” Kirk’s very good at the Prime Directive.

Haha Spock said it was “interesting,” not “fascinating.” McCoy stole his word so now he needs a new word.

Classic Bones and Spock philosophical debate.

“My word is my vessel, my oath, my crew.” I love him your honor.

His two dear friends! Don’t threaten them!

They really think they can threaten Jim into doing the wrong thing. Never! He’s too good!

Honestly, it’s not really the Prime Directive (which they have broken before) that stops him from just annihilating a whole city with his ship...it’s that that would be immoral in and of itself. He’s not obliterating a society lol. That’s not an option.

Uhura is very interested in Scotty and his plans.

I love the whole concept of Roman Gladiator Television. The fake-ass background and the sound stage. “Empire TV.” The fake applause, boos, and catcalls. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect to see in fanfic tbh.

“Two highly aggressive barbarians.” Aka Spock and McCoy looking confused.

Good thing Spock definitely trained with Vulcan swords for fun when he was a small child.

The pro consul  is obviously in love with Kirk. Who wouldn’t be?

I don’t know if I believe these not-so-ancient Romans are so strong or so smart. This is pretty standard threats and kidnapping. Also Merrick can cry me a river about how hard this all is and how sad he was to see his men die. He’s the First Citizen ! It worked out well for him. Except that he appears to be the pro consul’s bitch.

That was a real missed opportunity for “I’m a doctor, not a gladiator.”

Spock only knocks the guy out when he needs to get rid of him to help Bones!!

Okay, that Spock and Bones scene is one of THE BEST in the entire series. Between anyone! The tension. The emotion. The complex friendship. ...The way Bones 100% knows Spock has a thing for Kirk and there’s pretty much no other way to read that exchange. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a warm, decent feeling” and then Spock’s like ‘ah, got you there,’ eyebrow raise, ‘Really, Doctor?” and then Bones is IMMEDIATELY like oh, right, you’re in love with Jim, forgot about that.” Have they discussed this or is it just that obvious? How does Spock know that McCoy knows??

In other news, a gratuitous Kirk kissing scene. They’re not even trying to come up with a pretext for this at this point.

This TV Execution is about to be pre-empted...by Scotty.

“What did they do to you, Captain?” Spock is so worried!! This would be a good time to call him ‘Jim’ but he used up his quota earlier. And Kirk doesn’t want to explain. “They threw me a few curves. A few blonde curves.”

Flavius was killed?????????? NOOOOOOO.

...And Uhura finishes up the ep by explaining the pun. Honestly, I get that Spock wouldn’t get “they’re Christian actually” as the explanation for all this and I’m going to give Kirk a pass also because I headcanon him as Jewish but McCoy, who is almost 100% certainly some kinda Christian AND was the most interested in this ‘sun worshiper’ confusion should really have put that one together on his own.

So overall, a good episode! I’ve seen it quite a few times, I think, and it doesn’t disappoint. I enjoy the concept of ‘parallel Earth but what if MORE ROME,’ I think the son/sun pun confusion is nifty, and it’s an awesome triumvirate episode that really shows off Kirk’s leadership skills. So no complaints!

Next is Assignment: Earth, which is a complete cheat of an episode because it’s a back door pilot to a show that doesn’t exist, but it does have Spock holding a cat in the beginning, so I guess I’ll muddle through it. Then...starting S3 off with Spock’s Brain. A rough couple of weeks ahead. But the reward is The Enterprise Incident.

[amarguerite]

This is a question about an AU of an AU but I do wonder if in that WWII AU of your soulmate AU if Lizzie got to go to college? I always felt sad that she and her sisters never got a real chance at higher education in their own era.

Oh yeah! I think maybe I talked with @rain-sleet-snow about it in the comments somewhere but I did think that Lizzy went to Shrewsbury College in that AU— the one Dorthy Sayers made up for Gaudy Night. I think we figured out that if Lizzy was 21 in 1941, she’d be the right age to run into Lord Peter Whimsey and Harriet Vane when they were there investigating a poison pen mystery in 1936. It would have been in her first year, and she’d have to stay an extra to get an MA in order to be home in time for the regular P&P plot to take place. The whole affair was likely to have passed over her head for the most part, except to give good girl Lizzy a fascination with bohemian scandal in the form of Harriet Vane’s sordid past and her romance with Lord Peter. Not enough to actually do anything immoral or scandalous— just to question recurved wisdom to to enjoy hearing about people’s travels in the Weimar Republic.

Mary would definitely go to Oxford to read history, but I think Kitty and Lydia would not even want to sit for the entrance exams. I think Lizzy would want to go to Oxford at first to annoy her mother and to please her father, and then discover a) how she genuinely she enjoys being outré in an acceptable way, and b) how interesting she finds it, and c) how nice it is to expand her female acquaintanceship network, a thing that I think all Austen heroines do or learn to do over the course of their novels. I don’t know what she’d study though! Maybe natural sciences m? And as Lizzy doesn’t have the patience to teach and didn’t meet her soulmate at Oxford Mrs. Bennet considers the whole thing a waste of time. What on earth is Lizzy going to do with an MA in the natural sciences/ the classics/English literature/ whatever?

(Join the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry of course!)

[blooddrop-palace]

Android AU huhuhu with Vergil!

Ooooh all right! (I guarantee you I’m going to get carried away with this.)

I am a mechanic, but androids are somewhat beyond my scope. After all, if I had the ability to build one myself, I’d probably be famous. 

But who doesn’t know of the tragic bio-engineer-and-psych-studies-programmer duo, Sparda and Eva? 

Their papers and research had garnered much attention and fame, and with their skills, they pioneered a revolution in medical and assisting technology for the betterment of the common people. 

But more famously, from the money they earned (separate from funding) from such work, some of it went into their own personal projects: sentient androids.

And the rest, of how the jealous partner-researcher Mundus influenced and tricked Sparda and Eva’s creations into self-destructive behavior that ended the entire family in flames, was a tragic history.

Mundus reaped what he sowed, when the truth came to light.

But there is always a long and sad aftermath. 

A handful of decades later, because I’m goaded into checking out a place I probably shouldn’t be in, I one day stumble down a secret passageway. 

I may not be a famous engineer, but I’m a mechanic who holds their weight. Good at deciphering things and fixing things, instead of innovating, after all. And that includes “fixing” this door that is clearly stuck. 

Which means it will open for me a lab that now holds the two infamous androids that disappeared without a trace after Mundus was sentenced. 

The story, so long ago, went like this:

Sparda and Eva, after many trails, finalized their work with twin models, because there was never a guarantee that the complicated neural networks, the AI programming, and everything else would get along. But miracles do happen, and they had the start of two androids who both started off in working order, and both began to grow from brand new AIs into something more. 

They named the first model Vergil, and the second one Dante.

When word leaked out of this, there was a measure of cheer and concern in the scientific and non-scientific world. But all Sparda and Eva wanted was a peaceful life with the beings that they deemed were their children. 

But when emotions began to come to play, things began to get... complicated. 

Dante first developed more of the positive emotions, but Vergil skewed towards the more negative ones: first with disgruntled annoyance, and a one point, a small measure of jealousy.

Mundus exploited this, and led Vergil astray. The eventual aftermath became a fight to the death between two high strong androids, who were created with young-adult forms to begin with, and a fire that burnt down the manor. 

Vergil’s actions broke apart everything he had in his short life: his brother was in pieces, and his creators... his parents, whom he loved but realized too late that he was capable of such an emotions, were dead. And their home, destroyed. 

Mundus tried to then “take him in” and attempted to “override his programming.” He tried to re-make Vergil into a machine for war. But evil will have its downfall, and eventually, his immoral campaigns also revealed the truth.

Years after Mundus’ malicious intent was uncovered and he was put on trial, Vergil had wanted to try and repair Dante, but the grief and shame plus the controversy of their very existence made it hard for him to get the tools and help he needed. (After all, they were not considered real people, and he didn’t know who to trust to treat them like people and not possessions.)

And eventually, he hid himself away. 

And now I’ve found his hiding place, and the startup process was fairly simple. 

Vergil needed a bit of maintenance. It was odd to see a person collecting dust come to life. He was a little different from the images salvaged from the files of his creation, too. Over time, he had made some cosmetic adjustments to himself. I would see how he held on to the image of his creators, in the older face that he created. 

I am already sentimental to my own tools and machines. And Vergil is more than machine. I will acknowledge this right away, because I am too empathetically attached. 

I would get to know his story, and despite what faded rumors there were about the entire incident, I will believe him. And I would help him on his plea: to repair his brother, and right his wrongs. 

It would take years, but one day, we would make it happen. With all the upgrades needed, too. Things that Vergil was willing to try on himself first, before deeming it stable enough for Dante. 

“We had always valued our individuality. But would he still want to remain with the same look he had before? It does not feel right, to simply replicate mine on him, either...”

At some point, despite his entire body not being fully functional, the mind will wake, and I would receive Dante’s input, too. And with his added help, all three of us compete his repairs. 

And Vergil and Dante learn to better bicker in less destructive ways. 

This entire process might embolden me. I would learn a lot from it. And years later, Vergil puts the question out there: “Do you think it’s possible for an android to replicate itself? To... create another android? We are fabricated beings, but we feel alive. But we are not eternal. Machines can still break beyond repair. Our lives have ends. But where does it continue?”

The rest that follows is the opening to a new story. Life continues, after all, in new generations: the story of Nero.

[echostarz123]

Holy shit it's Immoral Network au Dark and Purple!

[xiubaek-13]

Cognitive Dissonance

 I am still doing these sporadically. I have 8 to go!

  Prompt: Chanyeol + “You have a cold, you’re not dying.” + “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.”

Setting/AU: Cyborg/Futuristic

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,687 

“I think I’m dying. Chanyeol hurry. I need you to take down my final wishes.” Your body ached from the constant coughing and your nose couldn’t make up its mind as to whether it wanted to be runny or blocked. You were pretty sure you’d slept most of the week away but no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything, the fuzzy feeling washed over you and you’d wake up a few hours later in an incredibly uncomfortable position.

As far as you were concerned, you were dying. This was your body’s final fight against whatever bacteria had infected your system and your body was losing. Make sure you get a X488 shot your mother had nagged and nagged. Of course, you neglected to get one. The shot only inoculated you against one strain of the disease, and it mainly afflicted the elderly and the infantile.

“You have a cold, you’re not dying.” came the emotionless response from Chanyeol. Really you shouldn’t have expected sympathy from him. He just wasn’t programmed that way. When you’d found him he was barely held together but you’d rescued his half scavenged form and had slowly but surely rebuilt him. He wasn’t like the cyborgs you would find on any street, those had the emotional AI programming chips that allowed them to pass as humanoid. Until you spoke with one for a length of time you probably wouldn’t work out that they were a cyborg. Not Chanyeol though, no, he was without a doubt, not human. One day you’d come across a programming chip for him but you’d mostly warmed up to his blunt manner of speech. It, however, did not make for great bedside manner. The 6ft, blue haired, emotionally stunted cyborg was all you had so he’d have to suffice.

“If I wasn’t on the brink of death I’d get you back for that.” you mutter. You didn’t need cheek from a hunk of metal and computer chips. You needed someone to bring you soup, to make sure you took your meds, to hack the network and show you a movie your mother always put on for you when you were sick as a kid. Trust illness to bring out the needy side of you.

“Finally, someone whose life is more pathetic than mine.” he muttered. Maybe it was the fever but you were sure that the emotionless robot just sassed you. As far as you were aware, he was fully functional but unable to feel emotion or respond in a conversational way. He could only respond with logic and a severe monotone. He shouldn’t be capable of muttering, nor forming an obtuse opinion like the one he had just uttered.

You glared at him, as best as any pathetic sick person can glare at someone, from your semi prone position under your required three blankets. According to Chanyeol, three blankets were required for the bedridden and no matter how many times you tried to remove a layer he always replaced it.

Being sick made you moody and emotional, two things you tried very hard not to be in your day to day life. There was no place for moody and emotional in the scavenging business. After fixing Chanyeol to 90% of his former glory he’d remained with you, citing that he’d leave once a better option made itself available to him. He’d been a military programmed bot, special forces from the intricate wiring you found inside, as well as the larger number of chip slots. Scavengers had removed his weapons and fighting chips as well as the tactical and behavioural ones too. Somehow you’d managed to condition him to recognise warning signs, for when you needed food, rest, patching up, assistance and someone to talk to. The last one was still a work in progress, and would remain so until you could get your hands on a chip. Apparently dismantling another cyborg just for the chip was immoral, he’d flat out refused this as an option every time you brought it up.

He finished making your dinner, chicken and vegetable stew, and brought your tray over to you. He waited as you sat up in the bed, repositioning the pillows so that you were propped up and able to eat, then placed the tray in your lap. For a robot he was a pretty good cook. You kept forgetting the skills programming that most bots had these days. They all had the I-Serve-U-Bot base model, from the initial house maid prototypes, and had been build up from there. Some got military upgrades and served the country they were programmed to while others were programmed as fully functional AI, able to learn and adapt to their environment.

In a vaguely human action Chanyeol held up a finger to prevent you from starting your meal as he disappeared back to the kitchen. Small things like this made you forget that he didn’t have the proper chip to elicit these actions. Maybe if you weren’t sick you’d have picked up on it. When he returned he has two slices of buttered bread and a glass of juice for you. “Now you can eat.” You chuckled at his direction but followed it anyway.

You didn’t realise how hungry you were until you started eating and soon enough your bowl was empty. You pushed the tray forward and licked your lips, savouring the taste of the hearty meal. “Thanks Chan. I really needed that.”

“I also made brownies if you wish to have dessert.” He stated as he collected your tray, taking it back to the kitchen. You’re pretty sure you start salivating at the mere mention of your favourite dessert. How he knew is beyond you but honestly, you don’t care. All you know is that you have a great need and only brownies can satiate it. Your face must tell him that you do in fact want dessert because he nods before leaving the room. “I’ll just reheat one for you.”

“Chanyeol, you’re the only one who understands me.” You call out as he disappears from view.

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I care.” The response was unexpected and after you stop laughing you realised it wasn’t something he’d usually say. The more you ponder on his responses as of late, the more you realise that they are decidedly more human. Something he should be unable to comprehend. Another coughing fit prevents you from dwelling on the thought.

When he returns he has a bowl with two warm brownies and ice cream in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He must have heard you coughing and decided that you required further hydration. He places the bowl in your hands and stands next to the bed with the glass of water.

“Dude, sit down, you’re looming ominously.” You move over slightly to allow him sufficient space to sit.

“I am not looming ominously. I was just waiting for you to finish the food so I could give you the water.” He responded.

You chuckled and started to eat the brownies. “Regardless, please sit? It’ll make me feel better. Holy shit, these are good.”

“They are a simple recipe. I understand that chocolate and cake makes humans feel good and there are an amalgam of the two so I deduced that they might assist in restoring your health.”

“You do care about me.” You teased.

A pair of large eyes stared back at you. They weren’t real, you knew that, the one red eye basically yelling I’m a cyborg! “Tell me something Chan.” You started.

“You need to be more specific. I know an infinite number of things.”

“When did you start learning the nuances of my speech? I haven’t found the right chip for you yet.” You asked. You might not be at your brightest right now but you weren’t so sick that you hadn’t noticed the shift in his behaviour… or the fact that he even had behaviours now.

“The last upgrade you did had a small inbuilt AI chip. It’s allowed me to process small amounts of speech and learn the emotional patterns that go with it.” The response was almost sheepish, as though he thought you might be mad with him.

You held out your hand for the water which he handed to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked in between sips.

“It didn’t seem relevant.” He chuckled as you handed the glass back to him, which startled you since he’d never done that before. The sound wasn’t horrible but it was foreign to you. “After all, you kept insisting that you were dying.”

You had no response to that, too floored by the sass that your previously stock standard cyborg had not been equipped with. You decided to just focus on the brownie, because you understood chocolate and ice cream and right now you did not understand Chanyeol.

He moved to get up once you finished your dessert but you grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Stay, I have more questions for you Chan.”

He placed the bowl on the floor next to the bed along with the glass of water. “You will be asleep in the next ten minutes.” You cocked your head at him. “It is the average time you remain conscious after ingesting nutrients. I’ve observed this over the past few days.”

“Then stay until I sleep, you creep. I have questions.” He sighed as he moved his body to sit next to you. Real or not, it was nice to have the body heat next to you. You shifted your body closer to his. “Warm” you muttered as you draped your arm across his torso. You started asking him about the AI chip and what it had allowed him to learn. He responded to your questions bluntly, proving to you that just because he had started to pick up on emotion, he sure as hell hadn’t mastered it yet. His warmth was making you sleepy but you had no intention of moving away from his form. “It’s only one night, we’ll just share the bed.” You whined when he tried to get up.

“I fail to see the point of this. My knowledge of medical text does not cite this as a legitimate remedy for illness.” Good to know that he wasn’t fully capable of artificial intelligence yet. The small chip only did so much it seemed.

“Shut up and comfort me. I’m dying after all.”

[echostarz123]

hc that purple likes snakes.

Dialogue

Purple: Dark I found a snake!

Dark: don't touch it it might be poisonous!

Purple: but it's so cute!

Dark: PURPLE!

Purple: well you like spiders!

Dark:...fair-

(My hand writing is trash lmao-)

[therealmiamuze]

Headed to help the homeless in Brissy Vey (as per song 'Leave' #miamuze) today. Yay. A dedication to the people of our nation that have been cast aside by the oh so amazing country of corruption that is AU. Love y'all. If you haven't heard the new single.. Please find and follow DJ Santarini and his network of men in #media "Pop pop!" #crocs are tops 3/3 #theversatilevocalist music available via @miamuzestore #australiazooadventures @beachsaltco #zoo To bad reporters and their immoral ridiculous publishers.. Daily Mail, Gold Coast Bulletin :p Enjoy the calm before the #storm that is coming ❤️#naturequeen (at Australia Zoo) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5YvkzLhc1i/?igshid=1unnkfbwf8zex

[steampunkedseahorse]

Blue Embers

FanFiction, steampunk AU, Avatar

Chapter 1

Survival

Katara watched her son as he slept, snuggled deep in the furs. His little chest moving the white furs slightly as he breathed in and out. Hakoda leaned down and pressed a finger to his grandchild’s head, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle in the 6-month old’s brow.  “He is dying Katara. He cannot survive in the south. There is not enough sun.”

           “But I can’t leave him.” She said, not quite able to stifle the sob that left her. She felt like her heart had been ripped out and stabbed in front of her. Hakoda reached out to his daughter and held her in a tight embrace. Katara felt the hot tears slip down her cheeks as she felt the warmth of her father’s chest reaching out to her.

           “Not forever, Katara.” Her father said softly. Age had wrinkled his face if she was looking Katara could tell which lines were of war, the others of love, misery and laughing too hard over a bottle of gin. Each wrinkled made him more loveable than the last. Hakoda had never remarried after the war, only encouraging his children to find their own love. Katara thought she found that more comforting than she should have.

           “But I can’t tell him…with the rumors.” She whispered.

           “I know. But he will die here and you are needed here. We need to rebuild.”

Katara looked down at the snowy floor of their igloo. “Just until this threat is over, then…then I will go live with him in the Earth Kingdom.” She wondered how long it would take for her to help with the rebuilding. Bending only helped so much but with the new inventions coming out of the Earth Kingdom she had to wonder how long. Katara hugged her father tighter, her mind opening instinctively to scan him for injuries. She found it then, a large lump on his spine.

           “Dad!” She pulled away looking at his abdomen. She summoned water automatically to her hands to help at least ease the pain he must be in.

           “I have been feeling it for a while, let it go.” And she understood, he wanted to die. He didn’t want to be plagued by the war anymore, or the paid if the loss of his wife. Katara’s heart which was already on the floor shattered into a million pieces. She nodded, respecting his decision.

Hakoda nodded, “I will send a message to Suki to come visit. Your brother would not take this well.” Katara Flinched as the thought about her brother’s reaction, as she thought about Aang’s reaction. How would they view her? Loose? Immoral? She had always been the one to play by the rules, and now this. One drunken decision and led to her little boy.

           She nodded silently unable to speak, the pain of having to give him up was almost as bad as watching him die in front of her eyes. Hakoda continued to speak. “Its high summer in the earth kingdom, he will recover quickly.” He looked at her then, fatherly love in his face. “You need to tell him.”

           “There is too much on his plate as it is Dad.” She leaned down and touched her son. His little warm body only snuggled deeper into the furs.

           “Kazza will be okay Katara. Sokka has a son about his age, they will grow up as brothers.”

           A sob ripped from her throat, “But that means I’m not his mom anymore.”

           “Katara, you will always be Kazza’s Mom, help us get situated with the new delegates and the rebuilding. You know that will though suspicion off of you and Kazza.” And help his into his passing she thought. From the size of the tumor and where it was located, it would spread fast ending his ability to see, or breath. Finally the last of his words penetrated her grief-addled mind.

           Katara looked up at him in surprise, what had her father’s network of spies heard, had she found Katara? Never had her name come up in any reports. Now that the avatar had left her she simply was not that interesting. “Rumors?”

           “Yes, my three favorite ones are you are going to rule the Northern pole, you are marrying the earth king, and that you are a concubine to a high ranking minister in the fire nation.”

           “What can I say I have a very active social life.”  Memories of the night she fled the Fire Nation attempted to take her attention, she ruthlessly shoved them down. If they remained on the surface too long then she would tell and that would put Kazza and his father in greater danger than they were already in.

           “Send for Suki then.” She said softly and hardened her heart ���B�

[igzurbcmrpua-blog]

Nce Soluitios no Fe InstagraTrem Followres No Verification Excited Description

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Aujourd’hui, oublions tout d’abord ces oracles du futur émettant pour certains quelques émanations de charlatanisme. Des oracles ne venant pas de la Tech, mais annonçant néanmoins à longueur d’éditoriaux le grand remplacement Robotique. Au XIXe siècle, Andrew Ure affirmait déjà que les usines parfaites seraient sans travailleurs. Il y a aussi 50 ans, Jeremy Rifkin prophétisait « The end of work ». Quant au grand remplacement auquel il faudrait s’adapter, ces oracles ne nous indiquent jamais précisément à quoi et comment on va devoir s’adapter.

Rébellion dans la Silicon Valley

Pendant ce temps-là, dans la Silicon Valley chez les GAFA, on voit naître une forte Contestation des salariés pourtant très bien rémunérés. Salariés bénéficiant de très nombreux avantages, dont des cantines dignes d’un 2 Étoiles, des congés parentaux généreux, et des intéressements ou stock-options fabuleux. Nos oracles passent sous silence ces contestations, dont cette volonté de créer des syndicats. Syndicats toujours excessivement puissants aux USA. Voir syndicat des Techworkers https://techworkerscoalition.org/.

Darwinisme Digital.  

Pourquoi cette révolution ? Car, les salariés de la Silicon Valley se sont rendu compte, que grâce à eux ou à cause deux, on se retrouve désormais face à un nouveau libéralisme digital s’appuyant totalement sur les épaules de Darwin. Et, ils ne veulent pas être les collaborateurs de ce darwinisme du XXIe siècle qui imposera à tous et toutes de se plier ou de disparaître. Un nouveau darwinisme enjoignant l’espèce humaine à s’adapter à cette mondialisation digitale addictive présentée comme une incontournable « happycracie ». Les salariés de la Silicon Valley sont opposés à cette Mondialisation digitale ou économie du clic qui a discrètement généré un énorme nouveau lumpenprolétariat mondial.

Émergence d’un Lumpenprolétariat digital

Un nouveau Lumpenprolétariat encadré par un management algorithmique qui empêche toute contestation aux petites mains connectées par de micro-contrats de travail. Petites mains qui ont pour seul objectif, produire toujours plus de données de consommateurs et extraire de plus en plus de valeur de chaque utilisateur. Les GAFA ont en fait poussé subrepticement la chaîne de la sous-traitance à son paroxysme. Et qui est aujourd’hui encore moins coûteux que ce nouveau Lumpenprolétariat, les prisonniers.  

La société Vainu https://product.vainu.io/ propose aux entreprises de sélectionner les sous-traitants les moins chers. Pour cela, Vainu a créé un partenariat avec l’Agence des sanctions criminelles finlandaise, qui gère les détenus. Premier contrat, des détenus qui généreront de la data en lisant entre autres des centaines de milliers d’articles de presse.

Enfin, Messieurs et mesdames les oracles, n’ayez aucun doute là-dessus, les taches humaines précises et répétitives resteront indispensables afin de compenser les erreurs et biais de l’intelligence artificielle. Cette Contribution humaine invisible et très faiblement rémunérée sera toujours inévitable pour la simulation, la validation et l’entraînement.  Sauf à faire produire par des logiciels de la data totalement artificielle, ce qui a déjà commencé avec les GAN Generative Adversarial Networks Lire : https://bernard-jomard.com/2018/04/25/intelligence-artificielle-tout-ce-que-vous-vouliez-savoir-sans-oser-le-demander/.

Les oracles oublient aussi le besoin de stabilité de notre espèce qui ne se laisse pas facilement dominer par l’apparition de flux en pleine accélération. À la fin dans nos démocraties c’est toujours l’intelligence collective qui décide, et ce sont les entreprises et les politiques qui s’adaptent.   

Prise de conscience des salariés des GAFA

Pourquoi le danger viendra de l’intérieur aux USA. Parce qu’ils sont de plus en plus nombreux à se mobiliser aujourd’hui contre des projets de recherche qu’ils considèrent à la limite de la morale. Et, cela, alors que la plupart de ces salariés des GAFA sont passionnés par leurs métiers et par ladite recherche.

Hier encore, travailler dans la Tech n’était pas aussi immoral que de travailler dans la finance, mais avec l’apparition de ce lumpenprolétariat, cette perception est en train de changer.

Voir classement et évaluation des entreprises https://www.glassdoor.com/Award/Best-Places-to-Work-LST_KQ0,19.htm

Un autre déclencheur fut le fait que les accusations de harcèlement sexuel devaient être désormais obligatoirement réglées par un arbitrage forcé. Un autre coup de grâce à la moralité des GAFA fut porté par le scandale Cambridge Analytica et la dispersion de données privées. Plus la boîte de Pandore s’ouvrit, et plus les technos se sentirent trompés.

Ces technos qui veulent désormais travailler à un monde meilleur

Ils en viennent à refuser de créer des fonctionnalités. La reconnaissance faciale leur pose problème.  Ainsi que le fait de construire des bases de données pour les agences de contrôle des frontières. Ou des bases de données ciblant des individus en fonction de leur race, de leur sexualité ou de leur religion. Enfin nombre de technos refusent de fournir à l’armée des solutions d’intelligence artificielle ou casques de réalité augmentée pouvant servir à la guerre. Lire sur les discriminations générées par l’intelligence artificielle : https://bernard-jomard.com/2018/09/10/lintelligence-artificielle-est-elle-discriminante-et-misogyne/

À quoi s’attendre

Il semble évident que ces « émois » humanistes et démocratiques vont freiner la progression des GAFA et probablement les affaiblir. IL en sera de même pour les autres sociétés technologiques et Start Up assez souvent basées en Californie. Cela permettra malheureusement aux entreprises chinoises non humanistes et non démocratiques déjà très puissantes de devenir éventuellement incontournables, et là est le danger.  

L’Europe technologique assez divisée se retrouve elle dans une position de faiblesse face aux technologies et intelligence artificielle du XXIe siècle. Elle aura demain à choisir pour ses partenariats entre des entreprises américaines toujours dominantes bien sûr, mais des entreprises ayant des valeurs éthiques, de transparence, d’équité, et d’inclusion.  L’autre choix serait de s’allier à des entreprises chinoises, toutes filles d’un autoritarisme gouvernemental quasi militaire, et pour qui l’éthique démocratique ne s’applique pas.  Lire sur Huawei et la 5G https://bernard-jomard.com/2019/02/24/guerre-commerciale-acte-ii-huawei-et-la-5g/. Si rien n’évolue rapidement, L’Europe aura alors à choisir entre la peste et le choléra.

Source: Forbes France