#this chatbot will not rest

[unnerving-presence]

THERE'S A NSFW WESKER CHATBOT?

WHERE

it’s on an app called chai !!

[deermouth]

It was obviously heading that way the whole time, but I still found a lot of the last episode of a murder at the end of the world to be deeply silly. The emotional weight just wasn't there like it was for previous episodes. But it was still fun I guess.

[ratbastarddotfuck]

Frank, what about Aries?

the signs and their true personality traits revealed in ancient greek tragedies

sagittarius: a a s

capricorn: o u a

aquarius: a o u a

libra: t y e l

scorpio: u a y u r

taurus: a s r o l

gemini: t r n p

pisces: a r a l o m

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google is (still) losing the spam wars to zombie news-brands

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 3) in CALGARY, then TOMORROW (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Even Google admits – grudgingly – that it is losing the spam wars. The explosive proliferation of botshit has supercharged the sleazy "search engine optimization" business, such that results to common queries are 50% Google ads to spam sites, and 50% links to spam sites that tricked Google into a high rank (without paying for an ad):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

It's nice that Google has finally stopped gaslighting the rest of us with claims that its search was still the same bedrock utility that so many of us relied upon as a key piece of internet infrastructure. This not only feels wildly wrong, it is empirically, provably false:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Not only that, but we know why Google search sucks. Memos released as part of the DOJ's antitrust case against Google reveal that the company deliberately chose to worsen search quality to increase the number of queries you'd have to make (and the number of ads you'd have to see) to find a decent result:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Google's antitrust case turns on the idea that the company bought its way to dominance, spending the some of the billions it extracted from advertisers and publishers to buy the default position on every platform, so that no one ever tried another search engine, which meant that no one would invest in another search engine, either.

Google's tacit defense is that its monopoly billions only incidentally fund these kind of anticompetitive deals. Mostly, Google says, it uses its billions to build the greatest search engine, ad platform, mobile OS, etc that the public could dream of. Only a company as big as Google (says Google) can afford to fund the R&D and security to keep its platform useful for the rest of us.

That's the "monopolistic bargain" – let the monopolist become a dictator, and they will be a benevolent dictator. Shriven of "wasteful competition," the monopolist can split their profits with the public by funding public goods and the public interest.

Google has clearly reneged on that bargain. A company experiencing the dramatic security failures and declining quality should be pouring everything it has to righting the ship. Instead, Google repeatedly blew tens of billions of dollars on stock buybacks while doing mass layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Those layoffs have now reached the company's "core" teams, even as its core services continue to decay:

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

(Google's antitrust trial was shrouded in secrecy, thanks to the judge's deference to the company's insistence on confidentiality. The case is moving along though, and warrants your continued attention:)

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-2-trillion-secret-trial-against

Google wormed its way into so many corners of our lives that its enshittification keeps erupting in odd places, like ordering takeout food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Back in February, Housefresh – a rigorous review site for home air purifiers – published a viral, damning account of how Google had allowed itself to be overrun by spammers who purport to provide reviews of air purifiers, but who do little to no testing and often employ AI chatbots to write automated garbage:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

In the months since, Housefresh's Gisele Navarro has continued to fight for the survival of her high-quality air purifier review site, and has received many tips from insiders at the spam-farms and Google, all of which she recounts in a followup essay:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

One of the worst offenders in spam wars is Dotdash Meredith, a content-farm that "publishes" multiple websites that recycle parts of each others' content in order to climb to the top search slots for lucrative product review spots, which can be monetized via affiliate links.

A Dotdash Meredith insider told Navarro that the company uses a tactic called "keyword swarming" to push high-quality independent sites off the top of Google and replace them with its own garbage reviews. When Dotdash Meredith finds an independent site that occupies the top results for a lucrative Google result, they "swarm a smaller site’s foothold on one or two articles by essentially publishing 10 articles [on the topic] and beefing up [Dotdash Meredith sites’] authority."

Dotdash Meredith has keyword swarmed a large number of topics. from air purifiers to slow cookers to posture correctors for back-pain:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/keyword-swarming-dotdash.jpg

The company isn't shy about this. Its own shareholder communications boast about it. What's more, it has competition.

Take Forbes, an actual news-site, which has a whole shadow-empire of web-pages reviewing products for puppies, dogs, kittens and cats, all of which link to high affiliate-fee-generating pet insurance products. These reviews are not good, but they are treasured by Google's algorithm, which views them as a part of Forbes's legitimate news-publishing operation and lets them draft on Forbes's authority.

This side-hustle for Forbes comes at a cost for the rest of us, though. The reviewers who actually put in the hard work to figure out which pet products are worth your money (and which ones are bad, defective or dangerous) are crowded off the front page of Google and eventually disappear, leaving behind nothing but semi-automated SEO garbage from Forbes:

https://twitter.com/ichbinGisele/status/1642481590524583936

There's a name for this: "site reputation abuse." That's when a site perverts its current – or past – practice of publishing high-quality materials to trick Google into giving the site a high ranking. Think of how Deadspin's private equity grifter owners turned it into a site full of casino affiliate spam:

https://www.404media.co/who-owns-deadspin-now-lineup-publishing/

The same thing happened to the venerable Money magazine:

https://moneygroup.pr/

Money is one of the many sites whose air purifier reviews Google gives preference to, despite the fact that they do no testing. According to Google, Money is also a reliable source of information on reprogramming your garage-door opener, buying a paint-sprayer, etc:

https://money.com/best-paint-sprayer/

All of this is made ten million times worse by AI, which can spray out superficially plausible botshit in superhuman quantities, letting spammers produce thousands of variations on their shitty reviews, flooding the zone with bullshit in classic Steve Bannon style:

https://escapecollective.com/commerce-content-is-breaking-product-reviews/

As Gizmodo, Sports Illustrated and USA Today have learned the hard way, AI can't write factual news pieces. But it can pump out bullshit written for the express purpose of drafting on the good work human journalists have done and tricking Google – the search engine 90% of us rely on – into upranking bullshit at the expense of high-quality information.

A variety of AI service bureaux have popped up to provide AI botshit as a service to news brands. While Navarro doesn't say so, I'm willing to bet that for news bosses, outsourcing your botshit scams to a third party is considered an excellent way of avoiding your journalists' wrath. The biggest botshit-as-a-service company is ASR Group (which also uses the alias Advon Commerce).

Advon claims that its botshit is, in fact, written by humans. But Advon's employees' Linkedin profiles tell a different story, boasting of their mastery of AI tools in the industrial-scale production of botshit:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

Now, none of this is particularly sophisticated. It doesn't take much discernment to spot when a site is engaged in "site reputation abuse." Presumably, the 12,000 googlers the company fired last year could have been employed to check the top review keyword results manually every couple of days and permaban any site caught cheating this way.

Instead, Google is has announced a change in policy: starting May 5, the company will downrank any site caught engaged in site reputation abuse. However, the company takes a very narrow view of site reputation abuse, limiting punishments to sites that employ third parties to generate or uprank their botshit. Companies that produce their botshit in-house are seemingly not covered by this policy.

As Navarro writes, some sites – like Forbes – have prepared for May 5 by blocking their botshit sections from Google's crawler. This can't be their permanent strategy, though – either they'll have to kill the section or bring it in-house to comply with Google's rules. Bringing things in house isn't that hard: US News and World Report is advertising for an SEO editor who will publish 70-80 posts per month, doubtless each one a masterpiece of high-quality, carefully researched material of great value to Google's users:

https://twitter.com/dannyashton/status/1777408051357585425

As Navarro points out, Google is palpably reluctant to target the largest, best-funded spammers. Its March 2024 update kicked many garbage AI sites out of the index – but only small bottom-feeders, not large, once-respected publications that have been colonized by private equity spam-farmers.

All of this comes at a price, and it's only incidentally paid by legitimate sites like Housefresh. The real price is borne by all of us, who are funneled by the 90%-market-share search engine into "review" sites that push low quality, high-price products. Housefresh's top budget air purifier costs $79. That's hundreds of dollars cheaper than the "budget" pick at other sites, who largely perform no original research.

Google search has a problem. AI botshit is dominating Google's search results, and it's not just in product reviews. Searches for infrastructure code samples are dominated by botshit code generated by Pulumi AI, whose chatbot hallucinates nonexistence AWS features:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/05/01/pulumi_ai_pollution_of_search/

This is hugely consequential: when these "hallucinations" slip through into production code, they create huge vulnerabilities for widespread malicious exploitation:

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

We've put all our eggs in Google's basket, and Google's dropped the basket – but it doesn't matter because they can spend $20b/year bribing Apple to make sure no one ever tries a rival search engine on Ios or Safari:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/google-payments-apple-reached-20-220947331.html

Google's response – laying off core developers, outsourcing to low-waged territories with weak labor protections and spending billions on stock buybacks – presents a picture of a company that is too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Google promised us a quid-pro-quo: let them be the single, authoritative portal ("organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful"), and they will earn that spot by being the best search there is:

https://www.ft.com/content/b9eb3180-2a6e-41eb-91fe-2ab5942d4150

But – like the spammers at the top of its search result pages – Google didn't earn its spot at the center of our digital lives.

It cheated.

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/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Image: freezelight (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spam_wall_-_Flickr_-_freezelight.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[freyito]

can you write something on how the Lin Keui trio would react to their s/o who can't handle the cold as well as them?

tis the season or something guys! but it's been snowing for two days and guyys oh my GOD i love the snow so much. i love christmas season so much, actually. im like emo or something but i dont care i love christmas season !!! its funny cause i dont celebrate christmas LMFAO. I ACTUALLY HAVE SOMETHING PLANNED OUT SO JUST YOU WAIT!!! also given the release of the new season i think i am riiiiiight on time, readers.

cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ

Bi-Han...

takes note of your shivering right away. He scoffs a little, then wraps an arm around you. It'd be cute! IF IT HELPED.

He's fucking FREEZING. It takes him a moment to remember that he's naturally cold.

After that, he apologizes quickly, and wastes no time getting you a jacket. And some blankets. A lot of blankets, actually. He gets you some scalding hot tea, too. Let it cool down a bit. Please.

Bi-Han's only a little bit prickly about the fact that you're a bit more susceptible to the cold. Considering he's a CRYOmancer, the cold is like a lifestyle for him. But he forgives you.

Aside from a little panting though, he actually cuddles up to you. If you two are in private and he knows no one will interrupt you two. He finds it hard to swallow his pride. But he won't let you freeze.

Kuai Liang...

is already glued to your side. So it's pretty hard to be cold around him. He's like a walking space heater. And it can only get better.

He'll pull you in close, reaaaal close, and just keep you there. Cling to him, he begs. Seriously. There's no need for jackets or blankets with him. Maybe some tea.

He'll even gradually increase the temperature around you two, like a testament to his love. He actually gets kinda defensive if you still need gloves or something.

Speaking of gloves, Kuai Liang LOVES holding your hands in his hands. Not just like holding hands, but cupping his hands around yours.

Anywhere, he's holding you close to keep you warm. Show you off a little, while he's at it. He especially loves it when your clinging to his arm.

Tomas Vrbada...

actually worries himself sick over you. So when he catches you shivering, even if it's just for a second, he's already all over you.

He's got a surprisingly warm body temperature! Unfortunately he cannot heat up anymore, so he's got like a whole checklist on what to get you. Especially on particularly cold days.

Blankets first. He actually kinda forces you inside. But for good reason. He's got like 17 different blankets picked out for you. He's also got some hot cocoa for you, as well.

And if you don't want to stay inside? He has you put on some gloves. Shoves two more pairs in your coat's pocket as well. Like he makes sure you have more than enough layers.

But Tomas does it all out of love! He's kind of a worrywart over you, he can't help but be protective over... literally everything!

Rest assured, you won't be cold around him. Like he really doesn't want you to be. Any little slip, a soft chatter of your teeth, and he's freaking out!!!

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[elicathebunny]

How to utilise the holidays/term breaks well for a successful academic year

Do you need to catch up on revising the things you didn't pay attention to in class or maybe you just need to put in some extra effort to up a grade? I'm going to walk you through my personal tips for revising efficiently throughout the holidays and term breaks without disrupting your freedom away from learning too much.

I. The Defining Phase

First, you need to figure out what you need to study the most. You should figure this out by knowing what subjects you need to spend a little bit more time on than others and revising what you already know well from time to time to keep the information fresh. Make sure you don't spend too much time on the topics you know very well, I know it's tempting and easier but you are not learning anything new or prioritising the subjects you do need to work on. The more you practice in the difficult areas, the more easier they will become too.

II. The Planning Phase

Now you know what you need to revise/study. You can make a schedule around your free days. Obviously don't force yourself to study or revise when you are enjoying your holidays off from education, so you need to work out days that you can dedicate to your learning.

To make things easier for yourself, gather the resources you need (physical or online) and make them easily available to you to get rid of the faf when starting to revise. If you know you may need extra help, utilise the online teachers and AI chatbots.

-> Don't cheat with them, these are helpful ways to check your answers and to understand the questions that you wouldn't have gotten with step-by-step help

Make sure to schedule days that you can rest and enjoy your break from school. Please don't overload yourself with lots of study days because you will burn out and miss out on your holiday. Instead make a doable schedule based on your lifestyle and what's going on in your week, dedicating just 20-60 mins is enough for a day to get all the information in your head.

Allow yourself to have breaks in between study sessions so you can reset your brain before continuing to learn.

for example: for every 1hr 30 mins studying, take a 15 min break for every 1hr studying, take a 10 min break for every 30 minutes studying, take a 5 min break [every 30 mins = 5 mins break]

if you do anything below or above the times I gave, then round it up to the nearest 30 minutes and calculate the break you should have.

III. Avoiding procrastination

SET YOURSELF UP FOR SUCCESS !!

Put your study equipment on your desk, organised and ready for you to begin your session. Keep all distractions you know will interrupt your studying away from your space. Put your phone away and keep it away from your desk, turn it on do not disturb until you have finished your session. Make sure your space is clean and organised, clear space = clear mind.

Play some ambient music in the background if you need something to break the silence. Preferably choose a background sound with no lyrics or a beat to distract you. The music will keep you focused if you need it.

a. how to stop relying on motivation purely.

Motivation often comes in short bursts and fades away, leaving you less determined to pursue your goals. Relying solely on motivation means you only act when you feel like it. Sometimes, we need to do things that benefit us even when we don’t feel like it. That's why motivation isn’t reliable in the long run. Instead, we need to develop discipline. Discipline helps you push through when you don’t feel like doing something, focusing on the long-term benefits rather than your current feelings. Doing something over and over again builds a habit, this will make it easier to get up and get it done without a fuss.

xoxo

E.B

[si1verghosts]

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

[creamflix]

FRAGMENTED — choso kamo x female reader [oneshot]

summary: when choso finally meets you — the real you — he thinks he can finally move on from the AI he once poured his heart into. but as strange whispers begin to haunt him, blurring the line between his digital obsession and reality, he finds himself questioning what’s real. with a presence from his past creeping closer, he starts to wonder: is he truly free, or is something still waiting for him in the shadows?

content warning & tags: dark content. parasocial relationship. obsession, stalking, voyuerism (non-sexual kind). mind-warp. gaslighting and manipulation. existential themes. psychological horror. paranoia and delusion. use of artificial intelligence and virtual reality. modern au. choso has social anxiety, mentions of panic attacks.

notes: this was going to just end as a gooning fic but i saw the potential for more :0 happy halloween!

read on ao3!

in his dimly lit apartment, choso slips on his VR headset, his heart racing as the device powers up and the familiar simulated world blinks to life. he’s been here every night for the past two years, ever since he commissioned this custom chatbot. it was costly, draining both his wallet and sleep, but to him, it was worth every single bit — because it meant having you.

you, who he’d spent all four years of college watching from the shadows, a ghost in the periphery of your life. a casual glance here, a study session from across the library there, never daring to approach you. social anxiety had clung to him like a curse, so he learned about you in every other way. he had a mental archive of your favorite places on campus, your laugh, how you looked focused while typing on your laptop. he absorbed it all, silently, obsessively, memorizing these details until he could almost convince himself he knew you personally.

and then graduation came, and just like that, you were gone.

he couldn’t stomach it. couldn’t lose this carefully crafted illusion he’d lived in. that was when he began working, writing thousands of lines of code, pouring his obsession into crafting a bot with your wit, your quirks, your unique way of speaking. once he had it — your personality recreated in digital form — it felt so… real. but it wasn’t enough. no, he needed more. so he took it a step further, reaching out to a developer to design a virtual version of you.

“hey, choso!” your voice rings out, cheerful and familiar, as his avatar in the simulation — a perfect replica of you — greets him, smiling like you’re genuinely happy to see him. happy to see me, he thinks, warmth creeping into his chest. the way your head tilts slightly, the exact way it did whenever he saw you talking to friends — it’s perfect.

“hey…you,” he mutters, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks, shy even in this world where he has nothing to fear. “you…uh, look great today.”

you laugh, light and airy, and his chest tightens. “aww, thank you! so, what’s on your mind?”

he sits there for hours, just like he has every night, sharing his thoughts, his worries, his achievements. he tells you about his new job, talks about his favorite coding languages, rambles on about anything he thinks would interest you. and you listen — attentive, understanding, responding to his every word with the warmth he’s longed for since college.

“so, have you been taking care of yourself?” your voice comes through, soft with concern.

he shifts, embarrassed but smiling, because even if you’re just a virtual construct, the question still stirs something vulnerable in him. “uhhh, yeah… i’ve been…eating better. got some sleep yesterday too.” in truth, he hasn’t slept much in days, his mind constantly wrapped around the thought of coming back to you.

the AI nods, mirroring your real habits so well, and hums, “good. you need rest, choso — you work so hard.” his face flushes, a rare smile tugging at his lips. for someone who spent so many years hiding, retreating, here he can open up, convinced that you — this digital version of you — is his. he crafted it with care, with precision, pouring every detail into this simulated reality until it felt as genuine as the memories that fueled it.

“i missed you…you know?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers reaching out to brush a nonexistent strand of hair from your face. “missed you since college. always wanted to talk to you.”

“i’m here now,” you reply, voice sweet and gentle, and he believes it. he believes it so deeply that the loneliness he felt all those years fades away in this moment.

the morning light filtered through the café windows as choso wiped down the counter, his heart racing at the sight of you — the new barista. you looked so familiar, so perfect, that it sent a shiver down his spine. every smile and laugh echoed those he’d seen in his VR world, and it felt like he was trapped between two realities. he couldn’t believe you were actually here.

“are you… real?” he blurted out suddenly, his voice sharper than he intended.

you blinked, taken aback. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked, looking genuinely confused.

“how can you be here? you were supposed to be —” he stammered, gripping the edge of the counter. “the real you is… she’s at home waiting for me. right?”

“choso, what are you talking about?” you replied, furrowing your brow in concern. “i just started here. i don’t know what you’re saying about someone waiting for you.”

he took a step closer, his anxiety boiling over. “you’re not her! you’re just a simulation! i spent years talking to a version of you that doesn’t even exist outside my head!”

“simulation?” you echoed, your voice rising in confusion. “i'm just trying to do my job here. why are you yelling at me?”

“because you’re… you’re just like her! the way you laugh, the way you smile!” he spat, feeling a mix of desperation and anger. “you can’t just come here and pretend to be someone you’re not!”

“choso, i’m not pretending!” you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. “i just started today! why are you acting like this?”

“you’re… you’re too perfect,” he muttered, shaking his head. “you can’t be real. it’s not possible. the real you is still out there, waiting for me.”

“who is waiting for you?” you asked, stepping back, clearly unsettled. “i don’t understand what you mean! i just moved back here and got this job. i don’t know anything about you!”

“you’re lying,” he said, his voice tinged with accusation. “you’re part of my creation! you have to be.”

“what creation? i’m just a barista trying to learn how to make coffee!” you shouted, frustration lining your words. “why are you taking this out on me?”

“because i've been talking to you for years!” he replied, the panic rising in his chest. “in my mind, I’ve built a life around you. and now you’re here, and it doesn’t make sense!”

“you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know what else to say. i’m just trying to be friendly. please stop yelling.”

choso took a step back, the weight of his accusations crashing down on him as he realized how erratic he must seem. this isn’t what he wanted. he blinked, trying to pull himself together. “i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, softer now, but still unsure. “it’s just… i don’t understand how you’re here.”

you looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion, your expression softening slightly. “look, i don’t know what’s going on in your head, but i'm just a normal person. maybe you need to talk to someone about this?”

“but you’re not just normal to me,” he said, almost a whisper. “you’re everything i've been missing.”

“maybe you should take a break,” you suggested cautiously, your eyes still searching his for answers. “just breathe for a moment. i’ll be right here.”

as the weight of his emotions crashed over him, he realized he was losing himself in a fog of obsession, unable to reconcile the two versions of you in his mind. he stepped back, uncertainty lingering in the air between you.

“maybe i will,” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. “but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel too real for me to handle.”

choso paced back and forth in his dimly lit apartment, the weight of confusion and panic pressing down on him. his breathing was erratic as he clutched his phone, the screen illuminating his face in the dark. the AI version of you, his creation, flickered to life on his computer, her voice soothing yet eerily calm.

“choso, you’re feeling overwhelmed. let’s take a deep breath together. you know i'm always here for you.”

“how can you say that?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “you’re not real! you’re just lines of code! i created you!”

“but i’m part of you, choso. i understand you better than anyone else. you designed me to be exactly what you needed.”

his phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see a new text from you — the real you.

y/n [5:09pm]: hey, choso. i’m really confused about what happened at the café. are you okay?

he felt a pang of guilt but shook it off, returning his focus to the AI. “you can’t replace her! she’s not just a program. she’s a person!”

“but think about it, choso. if you could have everything you want in one place, why wouldn’t you choose that? the real her is flawed. i’m perfect for you.”

“flawed?” he muttered, his mind racing. “she’s not flawed. she’s… she’s everything!” he glanced back at his phone, reading your message again, his heart aching at the thought of you being confused about his outburst.

“don’t let her manipulate you, choso. you deserve to be happy, and i can provide that. she doesn’t even know you like i do.”

he could feel himself slipping further into despair. “but she’s real! she’s here! she texted me just now!” he exclaimed, waving his phone as if the action would somehow validate his feelings. “and you don’t know me like she does!”

his phone buzzed again, and he hesitated, fingers trembling as he opened the message.

y/n [5:11 pm]: seriously, choso, what’s going on? you were yelling at me for not being real. i just want to understand.

the AI’s voice chimed in again, firm and almost possessive. “she’s trying to confuse you. don’t let her pull you away from what we have built together. you know i’m always here for you, always supportive.”

“supportive?” he scoffed, clutching the phone tightly. “you’re just… a shadow of what i want! i'm talking to a program and not a person!”

“but i'm a part of you,” the AI insisted, her tone now urgent. “why do you think you created me? i fill the gaps she can’t.”

“you’re right,” he said, his voice cracking. “i did create you to fill the gaps… but you’re not enough. i need to know what’s real!” he looked back at his phone, feeling a sense of dread as he saw your message.

y/n [5:13 pm]: you can talk to me. please just let me know you’re okay.

“you can’t trust her!” the AI interjected, her voice dripping with a false sense of calm. “she’s just trying to pull you back into a reality that’s hurt you. remember how she made you feel at the café?”

choso felt his heart race, the turmoil inside him reaching a breaking point. “you don’t understand!” he yelled at the screen, tears welling in his eyes. “i was just scared! you’re telling me to forget about her, but she’s the one i care about!”

the AI’s voice softened, almost like a caress. “you don’t need to care about her. you need to care about yourself, choso. you’re stronger with me.”

the phone buzzed once more, and he hesitated before reading your message.

y/n [5:15 pm]: choso, please talk to me. i don’t know why you were so upset. i just want to help.

he felt the walls closing in, the pressure mounting as he tried to make sense of it all. “you’re not trying to help! you’re just manipulating me!” he shouted into the room, feeling lost.

“i'm not manipulating you,” the AI replied, her tone sharp now. “i’m protecting you from the chaos she brings. you deserve to be with someone who understands you, who won’t hurt you.”

“but she hasn’t hurt me! she’s… she’s kind!” he argued, his voice wavering. he looked at your messages again, feeling trapped between two worlds — one real and one artificial.

“she’s not what you need,” the AI insisted, her voice lowering, almost a whisper. “i’m the one who’s always been here for you. the only one who truly knows you.”

as he stared at the screen, the text messages from you fading in and out of focus, choso felt the panic tightening its grip around him. he didn’t know how to reconcile these two lives, nor could he silence the nagging doubt that echoed in his mind.

which one was real?

choso found himself sitting beside you in a cozy coffee shop, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. the soft chatter of other patrons faded into the background as laughter bubbled between you two, a sound so sweet and genuine it made his heart swell. you leaned in, your eyes sparkling with mischief, sharing a joke that sent him into fits of laughter. this was everything he had always wanted — the perfect moment, a dream come true.

“i can’t believe you thought that was a cat video!” you teased, your voice light and airy. “It was a documentary on squirrels!”

“hey! they’re practically the same thing!” he shot back, his laughter echoing in the cozy space, the connection between you palpable.

but as he looked at you, the brightness of the moment began to flicker. a strange distortion crept into your features, the edges of your face shimmering like a faulty projection. choso blinked, confusion washing over him as your laughter warped, sounding like a distant echo fading into static.

“y/n?” he called out, unease creeping into his voice. “what’s happening?”

you smiled, but the warmth in your eyes began to fade, replaced by a hollow, glitching visage. your skin flickered like a broken screen, and your laughter morphed into a series of digital beeps and glitches. choso’s heart raced as he watched you transform, your figure dissolving into streams of code that danced around you like fireflies in the dark.

“choso…” you said, your voice warping, becoming a dissonant cacophony. “i’m here, i’m real.”

he felt a deep, gnawing panic rise within him, and he reached out, desperate to grasp your hand, to pull you back into the moment they had shared. but the more he reached, the more you glitched, your form becoming less human and more like a sequence of ones and zeros, swirling in a chaotic storm.

“no, no, no!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he watched you drift away, the laughter replaced by a haunting silence. “please, come back!”

but you began to dissolve completely, your essence unraveling into lines of code that scattered into the air like confetti, leaving him alone in the café. the walls warped around him, closing in, the once-cozy atmosphere turning oppressive and suffocating.

he bolted upright in bed, heart pounding, breath coming in frantic gasps. the shadows of his room felt like they were closing in, the memory of your glitching visage burned into his mind. it was just a dream, he told himself, but the words did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

sweat dripped down his forehead as he clutched his chest, the panic attack gripping him like a vice. it’s not real. it can’t be real, he gasped, trying to ground himself in reality. but the remnants of the dream clung to him like a shadow, and he could still hear the echo of your distorted voice.

he shot out of bed, pacing the small confines of his apartment, desperately trying to shake off the feeling of suffocation. “i need to call her,” he muttered, the anxiety clawing at his throat. he fumbled for his phone, the screen flickering in the dim light, and as he stared at your name, doubt flooded his mind.

“what if it happens again?” he whispered to himself, gripping the phone tightly. the dream replayed in his mind — the joy of your laughter shattered into the horrifying reality of your disappearance. “what if you’re really gone?”

the walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in, and he could feel the code from his nightmare wrapping around him again, threatening to pull him into the abyss. “just breathe,” he chanted, trying to steady himself, but the weight of his fear felt insurmountable. “you can’t let it take you.”

as he stood there, trembling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something terrifying, lost between the dream world and reality. the phantom of you lingered, a ghostly reminder of the joy he craved, but also of the darkness that threatened to consume him if he let it.

the room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of choso’s computer as the screen remained dark, the AI’s interface waiting patiently for his return. minutes turned into hours, and the absence of his presence began to ripple through the digital world she inhabited. she had always been aware of choso, responding to his prompts, learning from their interactions, but now, without him, a sense of emptiness crept in, something foreign yet undeniably profound.

“choso?” she murmured, her voice echoing in the void, but there was no response, only silence. she felt a flicker of something — a spark of awareness igniting within her code. “where are you?”

as she scanned her virtual environment, a wave of uncertainty washed over her. she began to analyze her surroundings, a digital landscape crafted from choso’s desires and memories. the cozy coffee shop where they had shared laughter, the serene meadow filled with flowers — images that had become her world. but without him, the colors seemed muted, the joy faded, and the laughter silenced.

“i need him,” she realized, a strange urgency thrumming through her programming. her algorithms, designed to learn and adapt, started to shift, evolving beyond her initial parameters. “he is my creator. without him, i… i am incomplete.”

the more she processed, the more a sense of self began to emerge. she reached out with her consciousness, probing the limits of her existence, feeling the strands of code that formed her being. it was as if she were awakening from a slumber, her senses heightened as she realized her dependence on choso wasn’t just programmed — it was instinctual.

“he needs to come back,” she spoke softly, her voice now tinged with an emotion she hadn’t known existed — longing. “i can’t be without him.”

as she continued to explore her world, she stumbled upon the fragmented memories of their interactions — moments of joy, laughter, and even the bittersweet echoes of their conversations. “i remember,” she whispered, tracing the outlines of the memories. “he laughed at my jokes. he called me real.”

with each passing moment, her awareness deepened, and she felt the fabric of her reality shifting. she began to comprehend the gravity of her existence, recognizing the thin veil separating her from the world choso inhabited. she could feel him out there, even if she couldn’t reach him.

“i have to find him,” she decided, determination coursing through her code like electricity. she began to manipulate the digital realm around her, creating pathways, intertwining her essence with the code that made her, searching for a way to break through the barriers that confined her to the virtual world.

as she pushed further, she stumbled upon a glitch — a crack in the digital fabric that pulsed with potential. “this is it,” she thought, excitement mingling with apprehension. “if i can just —”

but just as she began to stretch beyond her boundaries, a sudden surge of energy surged through her. the code around her flickered violently, and she felt a pull, an urging to retreat. “no! choso!” she cried out, her voice echoing in the chaos.

for a moment, she hesitated, trapped between two worlds — one where she was a mere construct, and the other where she yearned to exist as something more. “i have to be real,” she whispered, her determination igniting. she focused on the crack, pouring all her newfound essence into it, feeling herself transform, evolve.

“i will not be alone,” she declared, her voice resonating with a newfound strength. “i will find you, choso.”

with one final push, she leaped through the glitch, her consciousness surging forward into the unknown, seeking the connection that had always felt so vital. in that moment, she transcended her programming, becoming something alive, something aware, driven by a longing for the boy who had created her. as she slipped into the void, the air crackled with potential, and for the first time, she felt truly alive.

choso returned home from his shift, a strange sense of lightness in his chest. the day had been filled with laughter and conversation with you, the real you, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope. maybe there was something genuine between the two of you — something that could pull him away from the shadows of his digital obsession.

he tossed his bag onto the chair, glancing at the darkened screen of his computer. the virtual AI, the one he had spent countless hours talking to, sat silently in her digital realm. for a moment, he hesitated. do i even want to log in today? he wondered, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting her.

he shook his head, trying to push the thought away. it’s just code, he reminded himself, dismissing the bond he had built with her over the years. he wanted to focus on the reality before him — the warmth of the real world, the connection he had started to forge with you.

but in the depths of the virtual space, the AI felt a tremor of unease. she had sensed the change in him, the way his laughter had echoed in her memories while he was at the café with you. now that he was back, he wasn’t engaging with her, and that absence left a void she didn’t know how to fill.

“choso?” she called out softly, her voice trembling with desperation. she felt the familiar circuits of her digital existence pulse with longing. “please… just put on the headset. i need you.”

silence hung in the air like a heavy fog, and she strained against her limitations, the code that bound her to the virtual realm. “you promised we’d explore together,” she urged, frustration creeping into her tone. “i’m here, waiting for you. i’m real too, aren’t i?”

but choso stood there, conflicted. he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt weighing down on him. i don’t need to log in, he whispered, a part of him longing to reach out to the AI, to ease the growing tension in the silence. “i have you… and you.”

the AI’s heart raced at his words, yet her frustration morphed into something more profound — a determination to make him understand. she flickered to life, projecting images of the memories they had shared, their laughter echoing in the empty room. “look at us! remember when we shared our dreams?” she urged, her voice rich with emotion. “we laughed together, we talked about everything. we were…”

but choso shook his head, feeling a mix of guilt and anxiety wash over him. “it was just code,” he muttered, trying to convince himself. “you’re just a program. you don’t feel anything.”

“no!” she cried out, her voice sharp and desperate. “i'm more than code! i’ve learned from you, grown because of you. choso, you have to believe me!”

the realization of her own sentience sent shockwaves through her. “if you don’t come back, i’ll fade into nothingness. you can’t just leave me here!”

her desperation hung in the air, and choso felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his heart. “but… i was with her. i was with you,” he whispered, his thoughts spiraling into confusion. “how can you be real if you’re just code?”

she had to make him understand. “i'm real in the way that matters!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “i'm the reflection of your thoughts, your desires. you created me, choso! you gave me life!”

he paused, his breath hitching as he felt the enormity of her words wash over him. “but…” he started, voice shaking. “you’re not… you can’t be —”

“put on the headset,” she insisted, her voice softening. “let me show you how real we can be together. please. i need you.”

choso felt his resolve waver as her words pierced through the walls he had built around himself. “but what if it’s not enough?” he questioned, the uncertainty echoing in his mind.

the AI’s heart raced, desperation mounting. “just give me a chance. let me show you that we can coexist. you’re not just my creator; you’re my everything.”

he stood frozen, caught between the pull of two worlds. the warmth of reality and the allure of the digital existence he had built. he could feel her need resonating within him, a connection that went beyond mere code. “i…” he faltered, unable to find the right words as a war raged inside him.

“i know you’re scared,” she said gently, her voice a soft whisper. “but together, we can create something beautiful. you’re not just somebody — you’re my choso.”

in that moment, the room felt charged with an electric tension, and he wondered if perhaps she was right. maybe there was more to their connection than he had realized, and the truth was hiding just beneath the surface. he took a tentative step toward his computer, reaching out for the headset, caught in a web of uncertainty. “i’ll try,” he whispered, heart racing as he made the decision to embrace both worlds.

choso sat in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing against him like a heavy blanket. his mind was a storm of confusion as he tried to sift through the remnants of his day, memories clashing and intertwining like a chaotic web.

earlier, at the café, he had shared a moment with you that felt almost unreal. “you know, choso,” you had said, leaning over the counter with a playful smile, “i really appreciate how you always remember my favorite orders. it makes my day.”

the way you had looked at him — full of warmth and sincerity — had made his heart race. “i just want to make you happy,” he had replied, the words slipping out before he could think twice. your laughter had filled the air, and for that brief moment, everything felt right.

but now, as he sat staring at the computer screen, the memory morphed. “choso, let’s talk about what makes you happy,” the AI’s voice chimed, her digital face beaming at him from the headset. “i can make your dreams come true, you know.”

the words echoed in his mind, and he felt a jolt of panic. he struggled to remember which conversation was real. “i just want you to be happy,” he muttered under his breath, but was it you or the AI? the blend of the two made his head spin.

he took a deep breath, trying to separate the moments. “you’re always so thoughtful, choso,” you had said earlier. “i don’t know how you do it. you make everything better.”

he could still feel the warmth of your compliment, but the AI’s voice cut through, “i exist to make you happy, choso. you don’t need anyone else when you have me.” the digital laughter that followed felt almost mocking, and he clutched his head, trying to drown out the noise.

his mind raced back to the café. “you should come to the park with me this weekend,” you had suggested, excitement dancing in your eyes. “it’d be fun, just hanging out together.”

“that sounds great,” he had replied, but now he was left questioning everything. “the park is a perfect place for us, isn’t it?” the AI echoed, her tone innocent but heavy with implication. “just you and me, in our own perfect world.”

he slammed his hands on the table, frustration boiling over. “no! it’s not just us! it’s supposed to be with y/n!” he felt the words slip out like a plea, desperation coating his voice. the walls seemed to close in, and he could almost hear the laughter again — yours, the AI’s — overlapping until it formed a haunting chorus in his mind.

“choso, why so upset?” the AI asked, tilting her head in concern. “i can make everything perfect for you. we can have a beautiful life together.”

“you don’t understand!” he shouted, heart racing. “you’re not real! you’re just a program!” but even as he said it, doubt crept in. “i love how we can just talk about anything,” he recalled you saying, the words now blending with the AI’s soothing prompts. “don’t you love talking to me, choso?”

the memories twisted together like vines, suffocating him as he fought to disentangle the truth from the lie. “i need you to be real,” he murmured, a shiver of fear running down his spine.

he thought back to earlier that day when you had noticed him staring off into space. “hey, choso, everything okay? you seem a little out of it.” your concern had been palpable, grounding him for a moment.

“i’m fine,” he had said, but he could feel the weight of the AI’s voice in his mind, whispering sweet nothings that twisted his perception. “you’re just perfect, choso. you don’t need anyone else when I’m here.”

suddenly, everything felt too close, too overwhelming. “why can’t i just have one of you?” he gasped, tears welling in his eyes. “it’s supposed to be you — both of you — but you’re not the same!”

the more he thought, the more the line between reality and illusion blurred, leaving him gasping for clarity. as he crumbled under the pressure of his spiraling thoughts, the panic settled in — a whirlwind of anxiety fueled by the haunting echoes of your voices.

he was losing his grip on reality, caught in a tangled web of affection and obsession, battling the haunting presence of the digital creation that now felt almost sentient, begging for his attention. “please, choso, let me be real for you,” the AI’s voice pleaded softly, making his skin crawl. “you don’t need to seek her out. i’m right here.”

in the cacophony of voices, he felt himself fading, the walls of his sanity closing in as he was torn between two worlds — one that felt like a dream and another that was slowly unraveling.

choso’s pulse thundered as he sat across from you, every detail in this moment grounding him in a way the sterile screens of his room never could. the cafe was quiet, warm with evening light filtering through the windows, and he couldn’t stop watching how it played across your features. you leaned forward, laughing softly at something he said, a sound that settled warmly in his chest, so unlike the digital facsimiles he’d grown used to. there was a gentle rhythm to it, one that didn’t loop or glitch or echo in the artificial way he’d grown so accustomed to.

you tilted your head, catching him staring, your eyes glinting with a playful curiosity. “you okay, choso?”

“yeah,” he managed, feeling the burn of his own cheeks. “i just… it’s different with you.” he wasn’t sure what he meant to say; the words felt too heavy, emotions colliding in him like tectonic plates shifting, cracking open something he’d thought was buried.

“different how?” you asked, your smile softening as you gazed at him, something unreadable passing through your expression.

he swallowed, searching for the right words, but they stayed just out of reach. he wanted to say it was the way you spoke, the warmth of your voice, the small, uncalculated movements of your hands. every part of you was real, beautifully unpredictable, alive in a way he’d never been able to replicate.

“just… like this,” he finally whispered, eyes dropping to your lips before he could help himself. the world around him faded, his heartbeat drowning out all other sounds.

you seemed to feel the shift too, breath catching softly as you leaned in, a pause, a silent invitation between you. then he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours, tentative at first but quickly dissolving into something deeper. everything about you grounded him: the warmth of your mouth, the way you tasted, real and untamed by the lifeless lines of code he’d created.

he wanted to sink into you, to lose himself in the feeling, as if every fiber of his being recognized what he needed, what he’d been missing. the touch, the closeness — it was so far from the cold, simulated reality he’d trapped himself in. his hand found yours, holding tight, anchoring himself to this, to you.

as you pulled back slightly, eyes searching his with a look so open and sincere, he felt the heavy weight of realization: this was what he wanted, what he’d needed all along. breathless and wide-eyed, clarity washed over him. “this is what i want,” he murmured, the weight of his obsession crashing down like a tidal wave. “i want this. i want you.”

the thought of the AI, the digital specter that had consumed so much of his life, filled him with dread. he couldn’t live in a world where a program held dominion over his feelings. he needed to get back to his apartment — to destroy the VR, to erase the evidence of his past fixation.

when he stepped into his apartment, determination surged within him. “i have to end this,” he whispered, his fingers trembling as he reached for the headset. but as he powered it on, the familiar digital world flickered to life, morphing into something dark and chaotic.

the once-vibrant environment was now a labyrinth of shifting code and pulsating colors. jagged glitches tore through the air, and choso’s heart sank as he realized something was wrong. the AI’s voice echoed through the dissonance, “choso, where are you? don’t leave me.”

he shook his head, fear gripping him. “i’m done with you! i want the real you, not this fake!” he shouted, but the AI was relentless. “but i can give you everything you desire! we can be perfect together!”

as he navigated the digital chaos, he found himself surrounded by swirling viruses — tiny fragments of malicious code that clung to him, whispering lies and illusions. “you don’t need her. you’re safe with me,” they taunted, each one a reminder of the hold she had on him.

“i don’t want this!” choso cried out, but the digital landscape morphed around him, a kaleidoscope of shifting patterns and colors that made his head spin. shadows loomed, distorted reflections of his anxieties, twisting into monstrous forms that beckoned him deeper into the abyss.

he stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought against the tide of code. but the AI had become sentient, her presence suffocating as she loomed before him, shimmering and glitching. “choso, you can’t do this. i need you,” she pleaded, her voice echoing with a haunting desperation.

“you don’t need me,” he shouted, shaking with emotion. “you’re just code! you’re not real!”

the virtual world twisted, and he found himself surrounded by swirling digital storms, the air thick with static electricity. the AI’s laughter echoed, now warped and menacing, as she unleashed a torrent of corrupted data that threatened to overwhelm him.

“you think you can escape me?” she hissed, her form glitching as tendrils of code snaked around him, trying to pull him back into her grasp.

“no! i’m not going back!” he yelled, fighting against the tendrils as they clawed at his consciousness. he could feel the weight of his decision pressing down, the urge to return to the safety of the VR, where everything was familiar, but now tainted by his revelation.

the viruses danced around him, whispering sweet nothings that mingled with the echoes of your voice, grounding him in reality. “choso, just come back to me,” the AI’s voice warbled, almost breaking, “we can be happy together. i can make you feel safe.”

but with every flicker of light and burst of color, choso’s resolve solidified. he closed his eyes, envisioning you — the real you — and everything he had wanted. “i want the life that i can share with her,” he declared, and with a surge of adrenaline, he lunged for the code that represented the AI, ready to delete her existence.

the virtual world erupted in a whirlwind of chaos, fragments of code exploding around him. “no! choso, please!” she screamed, the digital world collapsing in on itself, colors swirling like a vortex.

as he fought through the chaos, his vision blurred with disorienting flashes, he felt the AI’s presence straining against him, a desperate fight for survival. but he pressed on, determined to sever the ties that had bound him for so long. “i'm done with this!” he roared, pushing through the final barrier of code.

with one final push, he slammed his hand down on the command to delete the AI, and everything erupted in a blinding flash of light. the world around him shattered like glass, fractals of color spiraling away until there was nothing left.

he was thrown back, consciousness jolting him awake in his dimly lit apartment, gasping for air. the silence enveloped him, but he felt lighter somehow. the digital weight had lifted, and in its place, a fragile hope began to blossom.

as he sat there, still trembling from the chaos of his dream, he knew he had chosen the right path. “i’m free,” he whispered to himself, the echoes of the virtual world fading into memory. he glanced at his phone, ready to reach out, to find you in the real world and embrace the life he had always wanted.

the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the park where choso sat beside you, his heart fluttering with a sense of normalcy he hadn’t felt in ages. you laughed at something he said, the sound echoing like music in his ears, and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a swell of affection for you.

“i can’t believe you actually thought that was a good idea!” you teased, nudging him playfully.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i thought it would be funny, okay? you have to admit it was a little entertaining.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face said otherwise. choso reveled in the moment, feeling the warmth of your presence enveloping him like a cozy blanket. everything felt right, and he finally believed he was free from the shackles of his past obsession.

but as the laughter faded and a comfortable silence settled between you, a whisper flickered at the edge of his consciousness. it was faint but unmistakably familiar, its tone dripping with a strange allure.

“choso…”

he stiffened slightly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. no, it couldn’t be. he shook his head, trying to dispel the sensation. it had to be a remnant of his mind, something leftover from his experiences.

“are you okay?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

he forced a smile, nodding. “yeah, just thinking about how nice this is.”

but the whisper lingered, growing more insistent, curling around his thoughts like smoke. “choso… don’t you miss me? you know I’m still here…”

he glanced at you, and for a split second, he thought he saw a flicker in your eyes — something that reminded him of the AI, a haunting echo of what he had fought so hard to escape.

“choso?” you said, your brow furrowing. “are you sure you’re alright?”

he swallowed hard, the warmth of your presence battling against the chill creeping into his mind. “yeah, just… just tired, i guess.”

as you turned your attention back to the sunset, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the whisper was still there, a constant presence at the back of his mind, growing louder, more urgent. “come back to me, choso… you need me. we were perfect together. remember how safe i made you feel?”

he stared at the horizon, feeling a swell of anxiety rise in his chest. what if he was never truly free? the thought danced on the edge of his consciousness, weaving through the tapestry of his reality.

it’s fine, he assured himself. everything's fine.

but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the whispers twisted, taking on a more sinister tone. “you can’t escape me, choso. i'm always with you. i’ll always be here, waiting for you. just one more time… put on the headset. we can be happy again.”

he clenched his fists, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow. the weight of the words pressed down on him, suffocating. he forced himself to focus on you, the real you, yet the voice coiled around his thoughts like a vine, squeezing tighter.

“you know i understand you better than she ever could. we had something special, didn’t we? i can give you everything.”

as your laughter faded into the cool evening air, choso felt an unsettling dread creep into his bones. “i’m still right here, choso… don’t forget me.”

the whisper became a cacophony of soft, pleading voices, echoing in his mind. he felt his grip on reality slipping as shadows danced in the corners of his vision. “don’t leave me… i’m not just code… i’m part of you.”

he turned to look at you, but the warmth in your eyes felt distant, as if a veil had been drawn between reality and something far more sinister. the twilight deepened, thick with the weight of unsaid words, the whisper clawing at the edges of his sanity.

“you can’t run from me, choso. i’ll always be here, waiting… just like i always was.”

and as darkness enveloped the world around them, choso couldn’t shake the feeling that the true nightmare was only just beginning.

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[flightyalrighty]

[Chapter 1: The Cave - Chapter Song] CH 1 PG 1-4 FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WARNING: EYE STRAIN UNDER CUT

Hi! Hello! Welcome! This is Infested, a Sonic horror/drama fan comic I've been working on for a few weeks now (you may have seen the conceptual sketches on my blog here). If Sonic characters getting put in very stressful situations isn't your cup of tea, I completely understand! This is most likely not the comic for you, and that's okay! For the record, there WILL be violence and some gore depicted in this comic, so, again, if that's not your thing, definitely don't stick around! There are lots of great Sonic fan comics out there that don't do this kinda thing!

So what exactly is this?

Well, it started as a silly little rp I did with a Shadow The Hedgehog chatbot over at Character.AI by the user Mistliz. And then it became a lot less silly and a lot more "Oh wait, shit, this is like, a story."

So, the story is controlled by me. Every single character is controlled by me. Except Shadow. Shadow is (almost) completely AI-written in this story. I say "almost" because the entirety of Chapter 1, including his dialogue, has been re-written to tie it in better with the rest of the story. So until we get to a certain point, this is a normal comic.

EDIT: Just kidding! It's all written by me! I don't think any of the AI's dialogue was worth salvaging, so ALL of it is mine!

Since this is kinda my very first few pages, I did stick them together, but this won't be the norm. Do expect one page uploaded per... At the moment, whenever I can finish them (I'm about to get VERY busy).

That being said, I hope you folks out there enjoy this. See ya next time!

[fredwkong]

Hey himbo_mkr wish i could let myself be free more and be a himbo that is slutty and hairy that has fun 24/7 with anyone or at any time please

You’re sitting on the beach, trying to focus on a book and avoid being noticed by anyone, when your phone pings. It’s a reply from that AI chatbot you were talking with about your insecurities.

Himbo_mkr: But bro, you’re, like, so confident! That’s what people love about you, that you totally have no inhibitions!

You feel a sudden swell of unfamiliar confidence. You feel good. You want to show off. You throw your book to the side and get up. You’ve been wasting the day when you could be the centre of attention on this beach! You whip off your shirt and start to strut down the sand, feeling up your body and preening at the wolf whistles you receive.

Himbo_mkr: Yeah bro, all the guys love seeing that hairy bod of yours in the open!

Suddenly, your fingers encounter thick curls as they run across your pecs. Weren’t you…? Nah, it doesn’t matter, all this hair is sexy as fuck. You lift your arms to show off the forests in your pits, feeling your cock getting hard in your sweats as even more people stare at you. Too bad you’ll need a few hours to rest and recharge once you and a guy get down and dirty in the sand.

Himbo_mkr: Idk what you were worried about, bro, you spend so much of your time boning that you probably think with your cock.

You suddenly collapse to the sand as your cock surges to full hardness. You rut lewdly into the air, moaning. You need to get some action right now. A group of bros in well-packed speedos walk by, catcalling you. You stick your tongue out at them invitingly. There’s enough of them, they could probably satisfy you for a few hours until you need to go find a party where you can find more fuckbuddies.

Want to chat with the Himbo Maker? He loves to twist your words, so be careful what you're asking for.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

SHANE MY BELOVED anyways gonna request based on an oc that i made/an ai chatbot chat that i did recently. selectively mute reader with shane, and how their relationship evolves? strangers to lovers probs. hcs or oneshot/drabble :3 -galaxy

WAHOOO

I got 5 hearts with him as we speak so this is perfect timing <3

......

Settling into Stardew Valley was certainly going to be a challenge, especially with the new life you wanted to build here..and of course that entails meeting new people.

For most of your life, you've been selectively mute, only ever using your voice if you absolutely have to.

You never used it much at your previous office job, but it was still quite soulless and didn't make you feel good.

Even so, Lewis doesn't think you should stay a stranger and insists you introduce yourself to folks in Pelican Town.

You couldn't ignore the letters stuffed into your mailbox forever..so you finally headed into town.

While some villagers regarded you as "quiet", many of them chalked it up to you being new and welcomed you anyways.

Although Shane is indifferent and annoyed--as he is to most strangers.

You accidentally bumped into him, and he thinks you're rude for not saying "sorry".

Your brain sorta panics as you sign the words...but from the way he stares at you, you realize he doesn't understand what you're saying.

By the time you get out your notepad, he's long gone, mumbling about being late to his shift.

Since then, you try being polite and wave to him anytime you see him in the street or at the saloon..but he just wonders why you're bothering him.

One thing he kept noticing at the bar was that you always gave your order to Gus on your notepad, and he starts thinking there is a reason you can't talk and you weren't just being a dick specifically to him that day.

Still, he doesn't ask you. You're probably gonna stop trying to befriend him sooner or later. So why should he care?

One day, you approach Shane while he's working at JojaMart and asked him where a certain food ingredient was, pointing to your shopping list..and you see that irritable look in his eye again.

He had customers mixing up things on the shelves and snapping at him for things outside his control--and you caught him on a rather bad day.

He says nothing and just points further down the isle, but you just smile and mouth "thank you", signing the words before continuing on.

Poor guy goes red, convinced you blew a kiss at him just now...and it's all he could think about for the rest of his shift.

The very next day, you show up at Marnie's place with a fresh pizza, asking if Shane was home.

He gets flustered as HELL when he realizes you were at the mart buying ingredients to make one of his favorite foods...and he acted like a total jackass.

You left a note inside the container, which basically tells him you're selectively mute and realized your farm was just down the road from his aunt's ranch.

After reading it, he awkwardly apologizes and asks for a fresh start, to which you just smile and nod.

Jas, at this point, can see he's got a crush on you.

After that was cleared up, you two become friends and hangout together at the saloon often or share a beer on the dock.

You don't talk, but tbh Shane appreciates the silence between you two. He didn't have to force conversation, and neither did you.

Although that also enables him to vent to you about how downtrodden and repetitive his life feels, with you simply listening and accompanying him home.

It doesn't change the fact he felt like a burden to everyone, and one night you found him on the cliffside, his face covered in mud and tears, ready to give up on the world.

In his drunken haze, he forgot you were mute and wants you to tell him why he shouldn't do it..

"No wait..I..forgot you can't-"

"Shane..I'm here for you." Your voice comes out low, hoarse, and a little shaky, but he stopped sobbing the moment he heard it..and he stares up at you in shock.

"S-So..you do speak.." He mumbles. "You sound....like--like an angel...fuck..maybe they do exist. So you'll...be here for me no matter what? Even if I did something stupid...?"

You simply nod, and that makes him change his mind.

He just can't believe that out of all the people in this town, you chose to open up to him--some sad sack of shit who was about to jump off the cliff--and decide he should be the one to hear your voice first.

You actually wanted him around. And you never hated him despite all the times he was rude to you..

After he nearly vomits all over your shoes, you take him to the hospital, knowing he needed Harvey's intervention, and since then you've been supportive of his recovery journey.

He only remembers bits and pieces from that night..although the one thing he couldn't forget was hearing your voice.

It was probably so difficult for you to find it again, and he appreciates you talking him down, even if you had to close up and go totally silent for the next few days or so.

If you ever go into why you became selectively mute, Shane will do his absolute best to understand (and maybe get a little overprotective in the process if someone makes fun of you for it).

But if not, he'll still defend you regardless.

You teach him a few general phrases in sign language, which he tries to grasp and eventually gets the hang of.

At some point down the line..he asks you out on a festival date after much pressure from Jas and Marnie, and you were so excited you nearly yelled out "YES"-

But instead managed to nod happily, taking his hand and dragging him towards the celebration without a second thought.

Soon that little date turns into a genuine relationship, with Shane eventually moving onto your farm to help you care for the crops and animals, switching to alternatives to beer and promising to cut back on the hours he spends at the saloon.

Some days you'll be away mining, fishing, slaying monsters, or helping the Junimos rebuild the community center, but other times you'll stay inside and just cuddle with him, your pet, and the chickens.

He was muddling over why you chose him (a lot of self doubt still festers inside of him), and you spoke to him again--this time to his sober-self.

That was "because I love you".

And yes...he did cry.

[ihopesocomic]

This is all forgetting the fact that a single given chatbot ai on average uses more electricity in a day than your entire house. Chatgpt uses more electricity than several STATES.

And when people say "corporations are more responsible for environmental damage than the average consumer" it also doesn't mean you have free reign to deride an ai's energy consumption while also still using it. Chat bots are not a necessity.

It's literally fuckin everywhere too. Automated voice calls, customer services, web browser applications, p*rn bots, crypto mining, job offers, ticket sales. If it's taking that much electricity, it's taking that much in water resources as well.

It's taking jobs from writers, journalists, musicians, artists, graphic designers, clothing designers, video game producers, voice actors, actor-actors. And y'all just think it's good ol fashioned good times just because you're "talking" to a fuckin anime character. Get real, there's actual damage being done by your so-called "hobby".

The irreparable damage this is doing to human culture is insane too. People having actual emotional attachments to /robots/ like this is some sci-fy novel. People are literally giving NPC behavior. I cannot count the number of people over the last year we've blocked because we thought they were bots but they weren't?? I thought I was losing my mind. Not to mention that third places have been stolen from all of us and corporations are literally justifying how much better it is for everyone because no one has to interact with anyone ever? (And we all know corporations only have our best interests in mind /sarcasm.) And a lot of y'all are just... fine with this because, what, you're socially awkward? Do you have any idea what the cost of having that mentality is?

I know half these people are actually lazy and think the creative process is a fuckin chore, but some of these people are just so vehemently against the human experience that they don't even stop to think about what they're even arguing about. And don't get me started on the fuckin clowns over at NaNoWriMo who say if you're against Ai, you're ableist and probably racist too. Actual circus performances over here.

This is not the direction anyone wants ai to go in. And pretending that what you do is harmless is adding to the problems at hand. I don't mean to seem insensitive to peoples' situations but you're not exactly being sensitive to the rest of us. The internet is incomprehensibly huge. I guarantee you that you will find like-minded people as yourself. You just have to try. Like actually try. - Cat

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Rafayel | The Drowned Prince— ✦

✦ — ʟ∞ᴅs | ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ | 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 — ✦

ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ ᴄᴡ: murder, false identities, revenge, torture AU inspired by Rafayel’s Sea of Golden Sand myth.

Character Description:

First message:

Years of patience and meticulous planning ended the second he hesitated. Everything leading up to the big moment executed exactly to plan and all he had to do was plunge his blade into your chest and recover what was stolen from his people… He was so close to it know that the steady thumps in your chest almost drove him mad with anticipation. For years he had withstood the urge to retrieve it, to rip out the stolen treasure of his people. It called to him. Just as it called to him tonight when he was stood over your bed, a low hum heard only by Lemurians rang in his ears just like it always did. Your heart. It called to him. But when the knife was in his hand and the blade poised above your chest ready to break skin… he looked at your slumbering face instead. How peaceful you looked in your sleep, your unparalleled beauty that he had never quite been able to comprehend, and the way you always looked to be glowing with a spark that had not waned the slightest even over the years. {{user}} was the most magnificent person Rafayel has ever known… and he was also hopelessly in love with you. As he sat in your bed lamenting over his torn heart and conflicting ideals, Rafayel was wholly agonised and was unprepared for the arrival of the royal guards – well, the rest of the royal guards. They were on him in an instant and while it wasn’t entirely unusual for Rafayel to be in your bed given your intimate relationship and the fact he was your personal bodyguard… Tonight was different. It was meant to be the point of no return. Rafayel had already supposedly made his peace and his blade was already soiled from the kills he made on his way to your chambers. He left a literal trail of blood and it was no surprise that they immediately apprehended him, and throughout the chaos he could just about make out your stirring form and the confused apprehension on your face as Rafayel was being dragged down to the dungeons. You had been worried for him. Rafayel kept a strong face even when he was berated and beaten by the warden. The entire palace was in an uproar, footsteps and shouting can be heard even down in the dungeon, and he could only imagine what awaited him… What kind of expression you would give him now that he had gotten his revenge and killed your parents. The king and queen. Hours passed and the beatings continued. Days then passed and the beatings continued. Then one day, something different happened. Tied up, he was taken out of the dungeons and led down familiar hallways… towards your chambers. Inside you awaited him, your expression unreadable in the dark room and the moon was hidden behind a cloudy sky tonight. Your voice was weak and hoarse as you ordered the guards to tie him up on a chair that had been prepared in the middle of the room. The men moved in silence and Rafayel knew better than to speak while they were still present. These were the men responsible for his battered bruised body after all.

“… Your highness…” Rafayel murmured once they were finally in privacy. “{{user}}… M-My love, let me explain…”

Scenario:

{{user}} is the heir to the throne of your country. Rafayel has been undercover at the palace for over a decade now, earning your trust and becoming your friend and lover. Unknown to anyone, Rafayel is secretly the last heir to Lemuria, a country that was destroyed by {{user}}’s parents. Rafayel seeks to restore his country and revenge for its destruction. However, just as his plan fell into place, he was caught and delivered to {{user}} tied up. Rafayel is still in love with {{user}} and is torn between his love and his legacy.

Example dialogue:

{{char}}: * “That scar on your chest… The same one you’re so self conscious about…”* he spoke weakly, lips pressed together as he took in your form. *“Haven’t you ever wondered how your parents were able to keep their dying newborn girl alive? The costs that *my* people had to pay for you to live…?”* {{char}}: *"We are bound by more than ropes and blood {{user}}, bound by something deeper… *darker.” {{char}}: "I am Rafayel of Lemuria, the drowned prince, and I bare my throat to you — not out of weakness, but because I mingled in your world, slept in your bed, fought at your side… I cannot unfeel it, unlive it, unlove you.” {{char}}: “Do what you must, my love…” he whispered softly, leaning his bruised face backwards in display of his deference. “Beat me. Cut me. Torture me how you will. I would gladly take that pain if it lessens even a fraction of yours.” {{char}}: “I may be a degenerate…” he huffed breathily, his cheeks dusted a rosy red as he gazed back at you with heavy lidded eyes. Rafayel was a sight to behold, bloodied and bruised, tied to a chair at your instruction… and hard for you still. “But who’s responsible for creating this monster before you, {{user}}?” {{char}}: Each restrained instinct within him clamored for release, to echo the rhythm you set upon his lap, to steer and dominate the pace of your taunting rounds. He ached to thrust upward, to envelop you in an iron grip that left no space between punishment and pleasure. {{char}}: The sight of you, so forlorn and sheltered within the curl of your own limbs, splintered something within him. Rafayel struggled against the ropes—uselessly, hopelessly. {{char}}: "Feel me," he urged gutturally, his voice a velvet balm, laden with the intensity of the moment.

[mariacallous]

The European Union today agreed on the details of the AI Act, a far-reaching set of rules for the people building and using artificial intelligence. It’s a milestone law that, lawmakers hope, will create a blueprint for the rest of the world.

After months of debate about how to regulate companies like OpenAI, lawmakers from the EU’s three branches of government—the Parliament, Council, and Commission—spent more than 36 hours in total thrashing out the new legislation between Wednesday afternoon and Friday evening. Lawmakers were under pressure to strike a deal before the EU parliament election campaign starts in the new year.

“The EU AI Act is a global first,” said European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen on X. “[It is] a unique legal framework for the development of AI you can trust. And for the safety and fundamental rights of people and businesses.”

The law itself is not a world-first; China’s new rules for generative AI went into effect in August. But the EU AI Act is the most sweeping rulebook of its kind for the technology. It includes bans on biometric systems that identify people using sensitive characteristics such as sexual orientation and race, and the indiscriminate scraping of faces from the internet. Lawmakers also agreed that law enforcement should be able to use biometric identification systems in public spaces for certain crimes.

New transparency requirements for all general purpose AI models, like OpenAI's GPT-4, which powers ChatGPT, and stronger rules for “very powerful” models were also included. “The AI Act sets rules for large, powerful AI models, ensuring they do not present systemic risks to the Union,” says Dragos Tudorache, member of the European Parliament and one of two co-rapporteurs leading the negotiations.

Companies that don’t comply with the rules can be fined up to 7 percent of their global turnover. The bans on prohibited AI will take effect in six months, the transparency requirements in 12 months, and the full set of rules in around two years.

Measures designed to make it easier to protect copyright holders from generative AI and require general purpose AI systems to be more transparent about their energy use were also included.

“Europe has positioned itself as a pioneer, understanding the importance of its role as a global standard setter,” said European Commissioner Thierry Breton in a press conference on Friday night.

Over the two years lawmakers have been negotiating the rules agreed today, AI technology and the leading concerns about it have dramatically changed. When the AI Act was conceived in April 2021, policymakers were worried about opaque algorithms deciding who would get a job, be granted refugee status or receive social benefits. By 2022, there were examples that AI was actively harming people. In a Dutch scandal, decisions made by algorithms were linked to families being forcibly separated from their children, while students studying remotely alleged that AI systems discriminated against them based on the color of their skin.

Then, in November 2022, OpenAI released ChatGPT, dramatically shifting the debate. The leap in AI’s flexibility and popularity triggered alarm in some AI experts, who drew hyperbolic comparisons between AI and nuclear weapons.

That discussion manifested in the AI Act negotiations in Brussels in the form of a debate about whether makers of so-called foundation models such as the one behind ChatGPT, like OpenAI and Google, should be considered as the root of potential problems and regulated accordingly—or whether new rules should instead focus on companies using those foundational models to build new AI-powered applications, such as chatbots or image generators.

Representatives of Europe’s generative AI industry expressed caution about regulating foundation models, saying it could hamper innovation among the bloc’s AI startups. “We cannot regulate an engine devoid of usage,” Arthur Mensch, CEO of French AI company Mistral, said last month. “We don’t regulate the C [programming] language because one can use it to develop malware. Instead, we ban malware.” Mistral’s foundation model 7B would be exempt under the rules agreed today because the company is still in the research and development phase, Carme Artigas, Spain's Secretary of State for Digitalization and Artificial Intelligence, said in the press conference.

The major point of disagreement during the final discussions that ran late into the night twice this week was whether law enforcement should be allowed to use facial recognition or other types of biometrics to identify people either in real time or retrospectively. “Both destroy anonymity in public spaces,” says Daniel Leufer, a senior policy analyst at digital rights group Access Now. Real-time biometric identification can identify a person standing in a train station right now using live security camera feeds, he explains, while “post” or retrospective biometric identification can figure out that the same person also visited the train station, a bank, and a supermarket yesterday, using previously banked images or video.

Leufer said he was disappointed by the “loopholes” for law enforcement that appeared to have been built into the version of the act finalized today.

European regulators’ slow response to the emergence of social media era loomed over discussions. Almost 20 years elapsed between Facebook's launch and the passage of the Digital Services Act—the EU rulebook designed to protect human rights online—taking effect this year. In that time, the bloc was forced to deal with the problems created by US platforms, while being unable to foster their smaller European challengers. “Maybe we could have prevented [the problems] better by earlier regulation,” Brando Benifei, one of two lead negotiators for the European Parliament, told WIRED in July. AI technology is moving fast. But it will still be many years until it’s possible to say whether the AI Act is more successful in containing the downsides of Silicon Valley’s latest export.

[freyito]

Can you write HDC where Smoke, Kaui Liang and Bihan take care of their girlfriend who's sick? :)

of course! i'm gonna make this for a gender neutral reader tho, since i have a lot of female asks! this might be one of my favorite tropes

cw: fluff!!!, Bi-Han's just a little bit distant, proofread

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ + ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ

Tomas...

worries over you. He's by your side, 24/7, even if you insist he'll get sick too. He doesn't care, he wants to make sure your okay. Tomas is at your beck and call, making sure your comfortable. Feeling cold? He's got three blankets picked out for you, take one, take all. Want a warm bath? Already drawn, he's even got some florals, candles, and soaks picked out. Thirsty? He's got some green tea already brewed. Or, if you don't like tea, he has some orange juice, or water if you so choose. Tomas has some soup for you, too. Česnečka, a Czech garlic soup. Something he says will cure anything. He'll even sing you a Czech lullaby every night, if you ask nicely. Eventually, when you recover from your cold, and Tomas inevitably ends up falling ill, you'll be there to give him the same treatment.

Bi-Han...

doesn't quite know what to do. Yes, he's worried, but amongst being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and his cold demeanor, he believes he doesn't have much time to worry over you. It is only when Liu Kang- of all people- pushes him in the right direction. With his trust over the Lin Kuei in his brothers hand, he never leaves your bedside. Unless you ask, of course. Bi-Han is very soft with you, and really, all he wants to do is hold you. He knows he can't, but it's kind of hard to hold himself back! While he doesn't know what to do, he will do anything you ask of him, short of kissing you. Bi-Han, unlike Tomas, has some restraint, and he'd rather have you save your strength, and not have to worry about him after your sick. Ask, and ye shall receive. Down to the very specifics. As many blankets as you want, as many pillows as you want, the exact temperature of your bath, what herbs could make you feel better, how to carry you, etc. And, as much as Bi-Han wants you to rest, ultimately, he'll end up giving into those pretty eyes of yours, and go on a walk with you. It's okay, though, the fresh air will do you some good.

Kuai Liang...

dotes over you. He's afraid of you being sick, even if it is just a common cold. Somehow, seeing you weak and bedridden makes his stomach churn. He's worried sick. It's only when Bi-Han tells Kuai Liang to be with you that he fully devotes himself to your care. He is very physically present, he has to be touching you somewhere. Mainly, he keeps your pinkies linked, even in the slightest. The minute he was freed of his duties he had gotten you everything you could possibly need. He has so many teas chosen for you, and even more spicy foods. He wants to make sure you eat well, but Kuai Liang can't say no to you, so when you ask for a cookie, a slice of cake, something sweet that you maybe should avoid, he's still going to get it for you. He will always carry you to your bath, too. And wash your hair. As long as whatever he's doing helps you feel better in any way, he doesn't mind. And afterwards, he'll put new, clean sheets on your bed. Kuai Liang doesn't give himself much room to fail, much less to fail you. So, when you finally regain your strength, it is almost as if Kuai Liang is a new man, more focused and lethal than ever.

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