#Eventual Death Defying

[robinsegghead]

Master List

Danny's Daycare [AO3] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

He Fits Right In [AO3]

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[nelkcats]

Dad War

Danny Fenton became a father and he's not panicking at all (this is a lie)

Danny should have known that asking for an uneventful week was an exaggeration. He tempted fate by saying that "nothing bad could happen now that ghosts and humans lived in peace with each other"

Of course, it was right after saying that sentence that his daughter cousin appeared in front of him with her arm melted. Having gotten used to that particular scenario he steered her into his ecto-dejecto reserves, both of them panicked when this didn't solve anything.

With no more options, Danny took her to Far Frozen, surely the Yeti would have a better idea of what was happening to the girl.

Frostbite examined Ellie just like the first time but instead of scowling like Danny had expected he looked extremely pleased, almost satisfied.

"The time has finally come" Frostbite told him happily "you must let it happen, Great One"

"Do I have to let Ellie melt down!?" Danny yelled in concern, he never thought the Yeti had a sadistic streak in him. Ellie looked just as shaken by the information.

"Not like you're thinking" The Yeti noticed his mistake and decided to explain himself "she's not melting, she's stabilizing"

"If I'm stabilizing, why is my arm goo?" Ellie groaned, the sensation of melting never failed to be strange.

"That explanation is much simpler" Frostbite smiled "how old are you, little Phantom?"

"Uh" Ellie tried to assign herself an age, she aged much slower than the other halfas "16?"

"You didn't understand the question, I didn't mean how you look" Frostbite denied affectionately "how old do you consider yourself?"

“…5” Ellie muttered in embarrassment, even if her age was a bit older than that number, she felt much younger, like a child. She didn't count her early years, between Vlad and traveling the world she hadn't begun to think about it.

Even with all the knowledge stored in her head, she wanted to experience a childhood like other children, to make friends. Something that her adolescent appearance did not allow. As much as Ellie loved talking to Val, she was one of her only friends and unlike her, Val had a whole life to live.

"There is your explanation" The yeti pointed out "ghosts take the appearance of how they see themselves, your core takes into account your wishes and therefore you are reforming into a child"

Danny remembered when he first shifted into his ghost form and Frostbite explanation made sense, but his head reminded him of a very important detail.

"Wouldn't that be troublesome? A lot of people in Amity know you as my cousin” Danny pointed out worriedly. The secret of the halfas was still closely guarded.

"Well, there is a way to leave her appearance the same as it currently is, but that's up to her" Frostbite looked at the girl waiting for an answer.

"No" Ellie denied "I want it to happen, I also...I also want to have a childhood, like the others"

Ellie had always felt bitter about being the only halfa exploring the concept of death more than life; unlike Vlad and Danny who had lived fairly normal lives before their respective accidents, she had been robbed of the possibility.

She wanted to live too.

"It's settled then," Frostbite nodded "Now, this is just getting started and someone has to look after your core while you reform. Do you have any candidates in mind?"

"Danny, can you?" Ellie asked, taking the sleeve of his suit, she wouldn't have considered asking anyone else. Even if she didn't admit it, Ellie always saw him as her father.

"You don't even have to ask, I'll be here when you get back" Danny ruffled her hair with a smile.

"Thank you, dad" Ellie closed her eyes as she let herself be carried away by the sensation of her core. It was a little strange that what she thought would kill her was fulfilling her dreams.

Before the halfa could reply to the comment, Ellie melted, and the ectoplasm was quickly absorbed into her core.

Danny looked at the green stone in his hands with concern.

"How long do you think it will take her?" he asked the Yeti.

"A couple of hours" Frostbite sat down next to him "it's hard being a new parent isn't it? I still remember when my children were born"

Danny avoided mentioning that he had no idea about his children. He wondered if he had them in life or death.

"I- Ellie is my cousin," Danny tried to tell him, but his argument sounded weak.

"She doesn't seem to see you as such" The Yeti shrugged as he handed the boy a cup of tea, but the halfa refused to take it as long as he held the stone in his hands.

Frostbite snorted while setting the mug aside, a new parent, in fact.

"Uh, looks like it's time for me to leave my parents house, don't you think?" Danny tried to joke, even Jazz had her own house in another place.

He had temporarily tried it when he was balancing his college life with his spooky duties, living with Sam and Tucker was fun but in the end he came home.

"It seems so" The Yeti shrugged "congratulations, it's a girl"

Danny laughed as he held the stone closer to his chest. He had really become a father, hadn't he?

His core purred at the thought, while an invisible thread connected the two half-ghosts.

Being a parent didn't sound bad. Maybe it wasn't even as hard as people made it out to be.

───────────────

Danny regrets that last thought, he regrets it so much.

He just had to think that, didn't he?

As usual, he called Jazz to inform her of the day's events as he held the stone to his chest (Frostbite had told him it was safe to do so).

Jazz didn't seem too surprised by the news, on the contrary, she started recommending him books on parenting, so many books.

Danny tried to tell her that Ellie probably wouldn't be a difficult child, he got a 30-minute lecture on how she'd probably regress to the mental age of 5 or 6, and therefore he had to be prepared for it.

Deciding to listen to his older sister, Danny googled for advice.

Checking on wikihow how to take care of a child didn't work, Danny could attest to that.

The halfa sighed as he looked at the "I'll bring you some books tomorrow" message that Jazz had send him. Did he really have to read?

It couldn't be that hard, right? His parents took care of Jazz and she ended well!

Danny was ignoring Sam's voice in his head saying that "Jazz is the spiders georg of children and should not be counted"

Of course, Danny was also avoiding to look at the fact that his parents also took care of him and he kinda died. Ellie was already half dead so he couldn't fucked up that part.

He put his phone aside as he stared at the stone on his chest. It had been hours, was Ellie okay? Perhaps something had gone wrong?

He frowned wondering if he should call Frostbite when he noticed the glowing core. Before he knew it he had a 5-year-old girl crushing his stomach.

"Ouch," Danny groaned in pain "fatherhood hurts"

"Daddy! Daddy!" Ellie jumped on his stomach, she didn't seem to notice the change in title "Look! Look! Do you like my new look?"

Realizing that Jazz was right, Danny pretended to think for a few minutes, Ellie looked bummed out at his lack of response.

"Of course I love it!" Danny scooped her up into his arms as she giggled "you look perfect!"

Ellie chuckled as she ran off to Danny's room where she had kept his phone before the whole mess.

"I'll be back soon! I have to tell Val!" The girl ran off, probably forgetting that she could go through the ceiling and get to the room faster.

Danny gave her a thumbs up, as soon as Ellie disappeared down the stairs he lay back on the couch rubbing his stomach. His daughter had strength.

"We're definitely moving" he muttered, closing his eyes. Not in a million years would a girl with that much energy go unnoticed.

Danny checked his phone again and saw messages from Sam and Tucker. The halfa pouted, Jazz was a gossip.

───────────────

"Are you sure you have everything?" Tucker asked, checking a list on his PDA. No matter how many years passed, he still loved his technology and refused to throw it away.

"Definitely sure" Danny yawned as he loaded the boxes onto the GAV. Ellie was asleep in the passenger seat.

"Papers?" Tucker checked the list.

"Legal and illegal" Danny held up a folder "Thanks for that, by the way"

"You're welcome man" Tucker shrugged. He had created Ellie's papers a while back, but they had never been needed. Adapting the age was a surprise.

"Food? Money? Clothes?" Tucker recited the list, to Danny's nod he continued, "materials to put together the new portal?"

"Ready" Danny pointed to the box that said "danger", there were also the ectoplasm samples.

"I still think that's a stupid idea" Sam rolled her eyes "that thing killed you"

"Yes, but we need ectoplasm on a regular basis and well, building one was the easiest way to get it" the halfa shrugged. It still made him shudder to think about the accident but the portal was necessary "Besides, portals don't measure distance in the Realms, I can build one that's only a few feet from home"

Also, having Far Frozen close to them was always an advantage and the ghosts had promised not to invade the new town without his permission. He still couldn't believe he was moving to New Jersey.

"That's the only reason I'm letting you get away with it," Jazz snorted as she bent down to kiss her brother's forehead "Remember, we're just a phone call away"

"I know, I know, you don't need to move out as well" Danny shook his head amused, he felt that if he didn't stop them they would really try to " I never thought I would have to move"

"It's been so long since the accident" Sam remembered as she placed a hand on her hip "even though it seems like yesterday"

"It feels like it happened yesterday" Danny admitted while touching the scar on his hand. The memories of the electrocution were still fresh in his mind.

"By the way dude, are you sure to leave Vlad as her biological father?" Tucker winced at the document, he could see the reason but he didn't like it.

"Of course, that idiot must pay me child support" Danny smiled "eat the rich and all that"

Having an excuse to spend Vlad's money was always fun. And if his stupid biological sex could help that, he would use it. Danny was honestly relieved that his legal documents had been changed. He wondered if Vlad knew the real reason why he was never able to create a male clone.

"You could just ask us for money" Sam patted his shoulder "Tucker and I could support your poor ass"

Both had been very successful in their respective fields. Sam had graduated in law and was getting another degree as an Environment Protection Technician, she had changed a lot in a short time. On the other side, Tucker had created his own Technology & Security company, he was currently negotiating a deal with Wayne Enterprises.

Danny had a feeling that his friend wanted to use him to close a deal and had suggested the city as an option for that reason. Bludhaven wasn't far from Gotham after all.

"Just because I'm unemployed doesn't mean I'm poor" Danny pouted "I'll get a job in the new town before you know it"

"I hope so, your savings aren't going to stretch that long" Jazz sighed. Her brother's lack of planning never ceased to be worrisome "Oh, and don't forget to take off your blinder, you need to breathe"

Danny frowned at the comment but nodded. His ghost form was more comfortable because it suited his chosen gender, he wondered if he could change the human as well.

"Okay, I guess that's it" Tucker put the PDA away  "remember not to drive like either of your parents, we don't want you to get a ticket so quickly"

"Nor that the weather news announces when you're going out" Sam smirked, she remembered when Lance Thunder started announcing when Jazz and Danny were learning to drive.

"That's impossible, you know I'm an excellent driver and therefore I'm not going to get a ticker" Danny stuck out his tongue at his best friend.

"Whatever you say Danny" Sam snorted "call us when you get there, and have a safe trip!"

His friends and sister said goodbye to him as he got on the GAV. He started driving away from home. It wasn't long before he passed the "Welcome to Amity Park" sign. The little ghost drawings around it made him smile.

Still, Danny was offended by the skepticism of his friends, he was sure that he was not going to get a ticket anytime soon.

───────────────

An officer was giving him a ticket.

Danny banged his head against the steering wheel of the vehicle as the police officer asked him the routine questions.

"Does this vehicle have a license?" The officer raised an eyebrow. Danny sighed as he handed over the GAV papers, he had licensed all of his parents' inventions long ago "Okay- wait, is this a SUV?"

"No, it's a GAV" Danny growled without further explanation, he was still annoyed by the situation. Clockwork was laughing at him from his damned tower, he was sure "Do you need anything else, officer...Grayson?"

Officer Grayson looked at the vehicle with doubt, the damn thing had more modifications than the Batmobile, he really hoped the boy wasn't some future villain.

He had so many questions to ask.

Before Dick could question him further or Danny risked murder on his first day in town, Ellie woke up from her nap.

"Daddy?" Ellie yawned looking at the driver's seat curiously "Are we there yet?"

All the halfa's anger melted away and his attitude took a complete turn.

"No honey, we got pulled over for speeding but we're in town now" Danny leaned down to brush her hair out of her face "you can go back to sleep"

"You're a bad driver" his daughter smirked, she wondered if driving skills were hereditary.

"Are you new in town?" Dick leaned in curiously, the girl reminded him of his own daughter.

Danny was about to tell him it was none of his business but Ellie answered first.

"¡Yes! We're moving" Ellie smiled "That's why we brought all the boxes, I'm going to enroll in a new school and dad is going to get a job"

"That sounds wonderful" Dick smiled softly as he handed Danny the ticket along with the GAV's papers "You should be more careful on the streets, I don't think there is anywhere that accepts 120 km/hr as a normal speed"

The halfa frowned, didn't the officer have a heart!? At least he could forgive a new neighbor for a silly mistake!

"Yeah, yeah, thanks" he murmured as he put the ticket in the glove compartment.

"Well, all seems to be in order" Dick straightened up "you can follow your way, enjoy Bludhaven!"

Danny hoped that he would never see him again.

When he arrived at his new house, the halfa carried Ellie to the couch and let her sleep, after which he began to unload the things from the GAV.

He wondered if he should start unpacking everything or just sleep. He felt tired at the thought of opening all those boxes and fell asleep on the couch with his daughter.

When he woke up it was night, Danny peeked out of the window as he heard a motorcycle park next door. Perhaps he could see his neighbors?

He gaped at the sight of fucking Officer Grayson reaching down to grab a little girl and carry her into his arms.

Wasn't it enough to be physically perfect and heartless, but he also had to be a good father? Damn everything!

It had to be a fucking joke

X

[wereh0gz]

Huuuohuhhghohgh.......

I can't be having blorbo thoughts this early in the morning when I can barely verbalize them help

[noxcheshire]

Okay this is unfair because now I want BOTH 😭

The cuteness of being flirted with by being given different star constellations, and portions of nebula, milky ways, and various moments when a star is being created or collapsing as metaphors for Danny’s love 🥺

Like the gravitational collapse of a star? That his breathe is constantly taken away by the person, his heart squeezing tightly, and his body increasing in temperature at its core similar as a collapsing star because that’s what Dick/Tim does to him!! 😭❤️

A new star formation? It’s the compression from the knock out supernova-driven shock waves that sweep through his senses, unable to contain his affections and the constant triggering love that is born and grows deeper every day with Dick/Tim.

A nebula, known for their enormous clouds of dust and gas occupying the space between like a nursery to new stars? Danny is telling Dick/Tim that he adores the new feelings he has, and wants to let them grow into an array of sweeping colors in a world that had all at once been dark and empty.

LIKE

COME ON

THAT IS PEAK ROMANCE TO SHOW WHAT EXACTLY HE FEELS, giving pieces of the skies/space like he was giving a piece of his own heart away!!!

And I am so upset that I can’t tell if I want it to be Dick (boy deserves to be wooed like that) or Tim (who ALSO deserves to be wooed just like that)!! Those two would HOARD their courting gifts because it was given to them as a sign of affections, how dare you try and take something that was given to me by my potential love interest! Jail for you! Jail for a thousand years!

Ghost flirt and date in very... Interesting ways. It does depend on the ghost, a lot of factors play a role.

Some seem almost human like, others flirt by bringing their loved one a piece of heart stolen by someone who committed the crime that lead to said lovers death (extremely romantic for most ghosts)

Danny...well... He kind of brings pieces of stars, or soon to be stars, sometimes a star in the middle of becoming a star (clockwork thinks it's an acceptable use of his power)

Which, isn't the worst! Totally not! Until he jumps universes and takes important stars

Which leads to the current problem, the justice League is trying to figure out who is stealing it all while Danny is hoarding all these stars for the right person

[timmydraker]

CW: animal death, very graphic

Damian was having a panic attack and literally everyone was off planet or unavailable except for Tim.

Tim, who just the night before considered pushing Damian off a building because he called his boat house idea stupid.

Damian, who was seemingly not as unshakable as he thought and broke down into panicking breathes at the sight of-…

Oh.

The slight light enhancing his domino granted showed Tim a bundled of small, probably premature puppies that didn’t even have any fur on them. There was no mum in sight, just six dead little pups left on the dirty concrete of an ally way.

Tim might be an asshole, but even he was hurt by dead animals, but Damian?

Ignoring the obvious distress at seeing his bratty younger brother clutching at his chest like he was having a heart attack, Tim moved to be in front of him and block his view of the small pink forms.

He put steady hands on the you gets shoulders slowly, telegraphing his moves as best he could, and gently spoke to the Robin.

“Robin, I need you to try focus on my voice, okay? You’re going to be okay, I promise, just breathe with me.”

Training and experience of helping survivors of assault and Rouges quickly took over and luckily Damian seemed to be able to attempt to do as he was instructed. His breaths were shaky and interrupted by hiccups and gasps for air, but they weren’t as sporadic as before.

Tim watched tears slip out from under his mask, messing up the adhesive, and promptly cupped his face gently, “It’s alright, Damian. I know it’s scary, it’s hard to see, but there’s nothing we can do now, okay? You know how this goes.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to say, but it was all he could think of.

Damian shook his head, as if trying to change the reality of the situation, “I-I don’t- please don’t, I can’t-“

Tim’s heart felt like it was shattering as he heard Damian beg. Actually, really beg.

It was the first time he’d ever tried to hug Damian and luckily the boy didn’t fight it, falling into Tim’s embrace and clutching at his cap like a life line.

The detective in Tim had a suspicion though, because why was Damian begging? He was raised by death, he knew how it work, so was the loss of animal life enough for him to defy those teachings?

It didn’t seem right, even for Damian.

“Dami? Talk to me, what’s going on in that head of yours? Let me help, please.”

Damian hiccuped and buried his face in Tim’s chest, hiding from the world.

The next words he spoke made Tim feel sick, so much so he actually had to fight the violent urge to gag as the implications and reality of what really caused Damian’s panicking attack set in.

“Please don’t make me eat them.”

Tim knew the League were masters of torture and torment, but…

Picking up his little brother, Tim held him close as he walked him the nine blocks to their respective rides and mutter assurances the entire way. Promising his brother that he would never have to eat an animal again, ignoring that realisation of his vegetarianism, and told him that he would come back later and bury the little pups himself.

Damian didn’t let go of him and the two eventually fell asleep in uniform in Tim’s bed.

Tim took over removing the pink marshmallows before Damian had to do it himself.

[meefy]

I've talked about codependency and how it presents in Hunter x Hunter, and now I want to talk about how it presents in Dungeon Meshi - specifically between Thistle and Delgal.

Thistle, from the start, is in a perfect place to be taken advantage of and manipulated. He was taken from his family as a child, and he knows nothing about his past, not even his name. His sole purpose is to be there as a fool to entertain those with power. Delgal's father names him and raises him like a "son" and a "brother" to Delgal...but let's be honest, there is nothing normal or "brotherly" about how Delgal and Thistle interact here:

Thistle is not an equal with Delgal. From Delgal's perspective, Thistle is court magician and confidante, the one who can save his life and his kingdom. I certainly don't see Delgal considering Thistle a "friend" or member of the family. Perhaps when he was younger, but definitely not as an adult. Some of the earlier interactions between Thistle and Delgal as the latter grows up might have been sweet - sneaking food to share, talking about Delgal's marriage - but that sweetness quickly turns sour when we see how Delgal treats Thistle when the elf cannot be of use to him.

There is a tremendous amount of pressure on Thistle's shoulders. He knows Delgal's love for him is conditional; we can argue that Delgal yelled at him in a moment of desperation, but the fact that Thistle later feels the need to apologize (for...not being able to make Eodio defy death?) tells me he's used to asking Delgal for forgiveness where there is nothing logically to forgive.

Delgal, however, offers heaps of praise for Thistle when he keeps his kingdom and people safe.

Delgal needs Thistle to maintain rule of his kingdom and keep Eodio alive, and in turn, Thistle needs to be needed to feel fulfilled and useful. Thistle is Delgal's codependent, and Thistle has misconstrued putting aside his own wants and interests (his Adventurer's Bible page lists his likes and dislikes as "Nothing") in favour of serving Delgal and only Delgal. Thistle craves the affection he receives in return, and who can blame him? He has no family to speak of, no connections to the world outside of Delgal. Praise from Delgal is all Thistle lives for - and so he pours himself into creating the dungeon, keeping his people safe to the point of immortality.

So when Delgal and Eodio begin to talk about leaving, it's understandable that Thistle reacts so violently. If he can't protect his people, he can't earn Delgal's affection and praise. He is too deeply entrenched into the role of dungeon lord - the role of Lunatic Magician - to see that the dungeon is falling apart, and that Delgal probably long regrets asking Thistle for help.

Thistle is so obsessed with protecting Delgal and earning his love that he maintains this obsession for an entire millennium. Mithrun eventually tells him that Delgal is dead, to set his people free, and Thistle is in complete denial. He continues to search for Delgal even after learning the truth from Mithrun. He is so panicked about finding Delgal and proving that Mithrun is lying that he is driven to self mutilation.

Thistle's love for Delgal is not "true" love - it is obsession. But, in turn, Delgal's "love" for Thistle is not true love, either. Delgal would not have placed blame on Thistle for his son dying, would not have praised his use of dark magic, would not have placed the weight of his life on Thistle's shoulders...had he truly, purely loved Thistle. And I think Yaad knows this, because, when Thistle finally "reunites" with Delgal, he gives Thistle the apology and accountability the elf never got at any point during his life. He's sorry he made Thistle worry, and he's sorry he placed so much weight on his shoulders...those are things Delgal likely never said to Thistle at any point in time, but that Thistle deserved to hear after a thousand years. And I think it's very telling that the apology he got from "Delgal" isn't from Delgal at all - because the real Delgal probably wouldn't have apologized to Thistle in the first place.

I know there's some debate about whether or not Thistle is dead at the end of Chapter 96. But I am of the belief that yes, he is - that after finally being freed from the burden of needing to earn approval and protect everyone, and hearing Delgal apologize for it all, Thistle is at last able to rest peacefully.

[read-marx-and-lenin]

I'm asking this in good faith, but this is something I'm genuinely confused about. Regarding the Holodomor, or the Soviet famine of 1930 in general, why does it matter if it was a genocide or not? At best it seems to be a natural famine exacerbated by poor decision making, and while that is far different from a genocide, I don't understand why that specification matters, because it was still made worse by Soviet intervention, unless I'm getting the facts wrong which I probably am.

It matters to the Western propagandists who were insistent for decades despite zero evidence that the famine was used to commit atrocities against the people of Ukraine. The refrain the whole time was that once the Soviet archives were made public, they'd finally have the proof they needed. The archives are eventually opened, and surprise surprise, there's not only no evidence of the deliberate withholding of grain, there's evidence of significant amounts of food aid being sent to help alleviate the famine. The myth of a Ukrainian genocide began as Nazi propaganda and was adopted as part of the "double genocide" narrative by Western reactionaries after WW2 to downplay the crimes of the Nazis and to maintain a narrative about liberal opposition to "authoritarianism", painting Western capitalists as the "free world" fighting against both fascism and communism. (Don't ask them why they stopped fighting fascism after WW2 though.)

As for the human elements of the famine, it is also part of the typical Western narrative, even among those who admit the Holodomor was not a targeted anti-Ukrainian genocide and who admit that there were environmental factors, to try and put substantial amounts of blame on the Soviet collectivization of agriculture. I am not going to lie and say collectivization went smoothly with no issues, but you cannot ignore the factors of reactionary sabotage by kulaks (including the destruction of animals and grain and the outright murder of party officials) and the effects of Western sanctions and sabotage on the economic development of the USSR.

While some have argued that there was a complete "gold blockade" on the USSR during the famine and so the Soviet Union was forced to export grain to facilitate international trade, the blockade was never enforced by all Western nations at the same time and the Soviets were still able to export gold and silver at various times throughout the 1920s. It is true, however, that gold reserves were stretched thin at the time and the Soviets simply didn't have enough gold to cover their international debts. Soviet gold mines had never been extraordinarily productive and the rest of the Soviet economy was still developing at the time, so grain was one of the few things that they expected to have in surplus. In addition, there were various other sanctions in place by 1930 that did limit who they could trade with and what they could trade with, but the export of grain was almost never restricted. The famine caught them off guard at a very bad time.

While international grain exports were restricted during the famine as grain was diverted to famine-stricken regions of the country (and grain imports were increased as well), the problems with hoarding only worsened as in the panic of the famine, kulaks sought to exploit the people and create a profitable black market on grain. A struggle against the kulaks coincided with worsening environmental effects and the spread of disease among both crops and humans.

The famine was not man-made, it was not entirely natural, and it was not the inevitable outcome of collectivization. It was a perfect storm of a variety of factors. Stalin was not some heartless monster condemning millions of Ukrainians to death for daring to defy the glorious Soviet Union. He was not some idiot who had no idea what he was doing, plunging the nation into famine out of ineptitude. He was not a stubborn maniac who refused to abandon failing economic policies even at the cost of human lives. He was a human being, one of many in charge of the Soviet Union, dealing with concurrent disasters as best as they could.

[severus-snaps]

can you imagine if severus had lived and went on teaching at hogwarts? everyone would think he was the COOLEST TEACHER EVER.

helped save the wizarding world by defying voldemort. dark and mysterious past so any number of rumours could arise. known tendency to do good deeds and not tell anyone, providing scope for the evillest rumours to have some 'greater/secretly good' twist aspect. supposedly brutal death, survived. got the scars to prove it broody, distant personality and will never discuss anything but the work with students, no matter how much they ask.

this is fertile ground for school rumours, the most fertile you've ever seen. when i was in school there was a physics teacher who (rumour had it) used to be a guard at a diamond mine in south africa, and he supposedly had a bullet wound scar - and ignoring the ethics of that for a moment - the girls adored him and thought he was the hottest teacher ever, the guys thought he was so cool, and not a one of us gave a shit about physics

the snape rumours change every day. there's five variations on each one. there's snape lore in the school that you have to brush up on as a first-year. the kids are DESPERATE to get a scathing snape burn in class. when he's cruel and demeaning, the kids' faces LIGHT UP and he's furious that that doesn't work any more so most of the time he gives the class the silent treatment

harry's shouted out everywhere that Sev did it all for Lily, and so the girls and single mums (and some not single mums) think he's the god of romance. suddenly sev finds himself the new Lockhart, and he LOATHES IT

he receives firewhiskey and care packages from thankful parents for the first few years, so much that he has to start re-gifting them in the staffroom, and he even gains a little bit of weight from all the chocolate cauldrons. he stops attending breakfast for the first few weeks, because all the owls with letters of thanks were disruptive

he asks one time in class if anyone had any questions about the cure for boils and EVERY hand goes up. he pauses, surveying the class. "are there any questions about the potion" he says, and every hand goes down - but one.

"did you ever use this potion defeat Voldemort"

he considers resigning in that moment, but at least hogwarts keeps him away from his #1 enemy - media attention. kids are easier to keep in line than journalists. unfortunately the other teachers think all of this is hilarious, and give him a daily run-down of their favourites in the staffroom

eventually Sev starts putting out his own far-fetched rumours via staged, easily overheard conversations near students with minerva - just to be a little shit about it. [edit to add: @redabeline wrote a fic!!]

[cakewritez]

𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊.. 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄? PT.1

An: FLUFF. I NEED FLUFF. IM TIRED OF SEEING DOOMED RELATIONSHIPS I NEED FLUFF. Not proofread!!

s: it's over. You don't have to sing, you don't have to dance. It's all over. Your free. // rounds are out of order

cw: slight asphyxiation on Ivan's part CUZ ROUND 6 WAS.. something !! kinda suggestive?? Mentions of blood, [I literally do not know how to tag warnings] also I have not watched any theories so this is what I got from watching the series :^

☆ You can't believe it, you're free. No more idol shows, no more competitions, no more death defying stages tugging on your heartstrings fighting the ones you love. Speaking of love, your lover. Are they okay? Did they make it out? ☆

𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍..

Ivan had his match against Till, the crowd and the atmosphere was dizzing. The lights shined brightly on the two as they sang, the tension as Ivan glanced at the score rose higher and higher. The end of the song approaching as, the lights went off. Soft mummers of the crowd arose as they talked amongst each other on what happened.

The lights came back on, with the two nowhere to be seen. A missing icon appeared on the giant board as footsteps could be heard rushing, leaving the stage.

Mizi and Hyuna successfully got there on time. With the last few ticks of the clock left to go, the girls had removed their collars and earpieces.

Ivan wiped the blood from his mouth as his other hand was placed to the side of his side, it was a minor injury. That's what he told himself.

You squirmed past Mizi and Hyuna, making sure Ivan was okay. Your hands and eyes payed immediate attention to his face. Your hands were already on both of his cheeks, checking the remainder of blood that stayed over after he wiped it off. "Ivan! Are you alright? Did they get you?" You asked worriedly, as your eyes darted towards his frame.

He gave you a soft smile for a moment and caressed your face with his normal hand. “I'm fine, it's just a scratch.” He mentioned.

You grabbed the bandages and started to wrap his waist, earning a hiss from the taller man in front of you. Your bodies missed each other's touch, longing for these moments where you only had each other. No stage, just you and him.

The wound on his side would heal eventually, it wasn't that deep.

Ivan's hands grabbed your face, one of his hands were placed on your jaw while the other rested on your throat. He gave it a squeeze earning a shocked gasp from you, as he took that opportunity to kiss you. His approach was quick and swift, catching you off guard. It wasn't enough to choke you, but it was enough where you could still breathe.

Ivan kept kissing your lips, harder and desperate. Like he was going to lose you, not like you almost lost him.

Ivan let you go, his eyes dazed and full of content. After you regained your breath, he pulled you into a tight hug.

“I missed you so much. I have you all to myself. My black sorrow.”

𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋..

Till had fought against Ivan, the stage blinding his view of the aliens. Those creatures he hated so much. He wanted to be free, to escape from the chains he had been held in all his life. His saving grace, his light, his muse. You. He had to get back to you.

His drive was wavering, the exhaustion settling in. Hell, he didn't even know if you had won or lost.

Till had to continue.

Halfway through the performance, the lights flickered as smoke filled the stage. The aliens cheered, thinking it was part of the show. The roars of the crowd made the perfect cover to hide their footsteps.

Hyuna and Ivan dragged Till behind the stage, taking off and destorying the collar and earpiece.

You were pacing around in a safe room as Mizi waited for the signal that everything went as planned.

After a minute, the signal went off. Till was held up by Hyuna and Ivan. Exhaustion took over his body, his eyes lacked any light. He was free, but what was that freedom without you?

You rushed to his side at the sight of him, you scanned his figure to make sure of no injuries. Till's eyes shone brighter at the sight of you, he gave a weary smile and pulled you into a tight hug. You were alive. So alive, and real. He missed you.

You were with him till the end.

Thanks for reading !! ♡ I kinda lost motive but pt.2 will include Mizi and Luka !! ((o(^∇^)o))

[evilminji]

Broadway :3c

And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.

All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.

So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.

You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.

They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.

But!

Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!

The greatest show in DEATH!

Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.

And like?

.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.

And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.

And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.

And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!

His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.

The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!

Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.

The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.

They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.

When did HE become the responsible one?

The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?

It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!

Thankfully?

They DO sell CDs.

He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?

The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.

A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.

The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.

.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*

Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.

Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 4.2K

abstract -> "Lets make it up to eachother!"

y/n's perspective

“She’s awake! Get the doctor!” I heard and my vision was doubled while my head was throbbing. Where was I? The last thing I remember was…

“Then why don’t you run?”

Did he actually run? Was he finally free like he wanted? How does a hybrid escape without pretending to be human? Oh yeah… the black market. 

If he did... I hope it was successful and not all for nothing.

“y/n? How are you feeling?” I heard and I looked to my side. “Jeno… how’s school been?” I offered him a smile and didn’t have to see his face to know he was concerned for me. “Good, I've been focusing on this internship and well I try my best to not lose sleep,” he said and I smiled. “Haechan should learn from you,” I said and I heard his soft laughter. 

“How… are they?” I asked and he sighed. “Let’s get you checked out first. I’ll let Taeyong-hyung explain,” he said and I knew it was probably bad. 

“Y/n the doctor is gonna come in and do some tests, you’ll be given pain medication and you currently have stitches so this will scar. We’ll set up future appointments” I heard as I saw Johnny enter the room. 

I wonder if they're okay. 

seonghwa’s perspective

Last week we were finally let out. That would mean she's dead or alive to have them do action. I don't know what they did to San or Hongjoong yet. But I was in observation to see if I should be considered for a breeding farm. 

I heard them talk… I had no chance of adoption. My only option was a hybrid farm where their only purpose is to reproduce. It also gave me little hope that she was alive. 

I know she’s scared of me… but she would’ve tried to convince them otherwise. I also did hear that Yeosang and Wooyoung were code greens ready for adoption but Wooyoung has been in the medical wing. 

“If I could, those tigers would be shipped off. Hongjoong is excessively violent, he killed her. What am I supposed to tell San? Or Wooyoung? Those hybrids are far too dependent on her. If they knew, San would become a bigger threat to himself and Wooyoung would join him” I heard. She was dead…?

I may have not had a lot of hope but a part of me hoped she was alive. Oh, Hongjoong… we caused a mess.

“Seonghwa, you have a check” I heard as they opened my curtain. I saw the employee now opening the glass door. “I’m sorry,” I said… and he looked at me confused. 

“If… if I didn’t help her she’d still be alive. Even then I could’ve stopped–" "Seonghwa none of this is your fault, I'm sorry your future isn’t looking too bright,” he said and I felt the tears run down my face. 

“My future was never meant to bright”

yeosang's perspective

She was alive. I knew she had to be… there's no way she'd die. 

I was in isolation. My records unfortunately were publicly known when I was in here. The accident at a popular apartment complex where politicians, CEOs, and even idols lived took pictures of what happened. They warned me… she called in asking if I was gonna be put up for adoption. If… she was dead. I would get a horrible punishment for defying her… maybe even move the country? 

“Yeosang, are you ready for some air?” I heard one of the employees. I remember him being called… Jaemin? He was a friend of hers. “Any news?” I asked and he sighed. 

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” he said and I nodded. “Do you believe that?” I asked and it caught him off guard. He was supposed to make me feel better. I know he’s not allowed to say anything…

“Look… she’s the strongest person I know. The last time I saw her, Johnny promised to make sure she was alright and my friend worked with him. She’s in a stable condition”

liar. He was lying… 

“You don’t believe me do you?” he asked and I shook my head. 

“She’s… not in stable condition. In fact, they're trying their best to monitor her at all times–” “What’s wrong with her?” I asked and he sighed. We started walking outside as he looked to think about what he’d say. 

“Hongjoong when he clawed her jaw hit a vein connected to her heart. The week before when Kun was there, she flatlined but I  know she’s stable now we just need her to wake up. If not she might be in a coma for longer than we’d hope” he explained and I could only feel hatred for those tigers and myself… I pushed her, and I misinterpreted her feelings. She was scared of them… and even us. 

“Is there hope?” I asked and his smile said everything. It was forced and I could see the glassy look in his eyes. “There's always hope” 

Liar. 

wooyoung’s perspective

“Wooyoung you need to eat, we don’t want to put you up with the purple code hybrids. She’s not gonna be happy when–” “How can she feel anything? She’s not here… she’s dead isn't she?” I cut him off. The doctor sighed and shook his head. 

“No, she's not dead,” he said and I didn’t believe him. 

“Do it for her… don’t you think she’ll be distraught to see you in a worse state than before? When she saw you she said she was heartbroken. To know that you were a depressed hybrid… that those who promised her to take care of you weren’t–" "She’s not here!” I yelled. 

“Let me mourn her… she isn’t coming back,” I said and I was fully convinced. She would’ve been here already, she’s gone. I should’ve been there.

“Wooyoung you need to take care of yourself, your weight is dropping and you’ll start to get sick..” I turned him out. I didn’t feel hungry… not when I used to live a fantasy almost two weeks ago now. I was hopeful at first…

but then she never came back. 

san’s perspective

The world… stopped. 

My world stopped… code purple. For hybrids who are dangerous to themselves, mainly ones who experience such stress, or depression they harm themselves. 

Would it be so bad to be with her again? Constrained and isolated… How was Wooyoung doing? Was he like me? 

I missed the feeling of that collar on my neck, the feeling of her warmth, I miss her. Where is she? How long has it been since I've been here?

Surely only a few hours… I wonder when she’ll be here. Maybe in a few hours? 

“San, how are you feeling?” I heard and I finally saw someone after they put me here. “I’m… tired,” I said, I was tired, my mind felt like I was spinning and I felt sick. 

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” he asked me. “What?” I asked and he sighed. “San, I've been here three times a day for two weeks now,” he said and I was confused. I laughed, “It's only been a few hours…” I said and he shook his head. 

“I’ll remind you later, today we thought it would be good to take you outside” he said and I shook my head. “San, do you remember when you arrived here after the fight? You lost any sense of time and thought you lived the same day over and over again. You improved so much afterwards… she would want you to improve and get adopted again” he said and I shook my head. 

“I am adopted, she’s my mate” I said and he sighed almost like he was tired. 

“San, we’ve been having the same conversation for the past two weeks, almost three times a day” 

hongjoong’s perspective

My hands felt dirty… They didn’t let me go to the cells anymore. 

I need to get rid of her blood. I didn't mean to kill her. I… where was Seonghwa? Was he okay? Did he get adopted already? Maybe she’s alive and she took them… but not me.

I don’t deserve it… besides living with humans?  I hate them… I hate her… but I want to apologize. I hope she’s okay. I want her to be okay. But is she? Why would they send me away if that's the case, they were preparing to send me off. 

I was slowly accepting what I was destined for… I was gonna die. Born into a circus, I was always gonna die. 

“You’re scheduled to leave in three days” I heard. It was the main doctor… “Dr. Doyoung will take you in to check your wounds,” he said and I was unchained from the ground to be led to the medical wing. 

He knocked on the door when it revealed another employee… and Wooyoung? He looked… starved. His eyes looked lifeless and dark circles prominent. 

He looked up at me to not even react. They led him away, speaking to him in a cheerful voice as if wanting to cheer him up. “You ruined the lives of four hybrids,” the behaviorist said to me. 

“What's wrong with him?” I asked and he scoffed. 

“The healthiest right now is probably Seonghwa and Yeosang. Yeosang though is still clinging to her being alive, while Wooyoung has refused to be cooperative with this severe depressive episode, even San has lost all sense of time and is worse. All humans aren't evil, but you let that control you and even ruined your own chance to actually live” he said as I went inside the room to see the doctor. 

I… I'm sorry…

y/n’s perspective

“Two weeks?” I asked and they nodded. “Johnny and Jeno tried their best to take care of you… but you were asleep for two weeks and they thought for a minute your body was in shock, especially after your flatline last week. 

“I… what?” I was confused with everything. Two weeks I was out… What happened to them? “You’re okay physically, the tests they've done should help and it looks like they helped you gain some strength to walk despite being comatose for two weeks” he explained and I nodded. 

“Curious about anything?” Taeyong asked and I wanted to ask but I was scared. “I’m curious. Curious as to why you were suddenly scared of your hybrids. Kun told me that your hybrids said you started to be detached and started avoiding them and it was clarified that you were scared” he said and I nodded. 

“When I did the interviews… Hongjoong mentioned that hybrids do anything to survive even if they pretend to like their owners” I said and he laughed at me. “You’ve clearly forgotten how those three looked at you. Wooyoung used to– actually has been obsessed with you for years, Yeosang is the most overprotective hybrid i've ever seen and San? He loves you… he was your first hybrid and he… he’s a code purple right now” he said and i stopped. I felt frozen… 

“A… a code purple?” I said hoping I heard wrong and he nodded.

“He’s lost track of time… he thinks it's been hours. His mind is scattered in events, sometimes he’ll think he’s there because he attacked you and become depressed, or he’ll think the attack was minutes before and scream that he’ll kill that tiger. The worst of it is, right now… he’s waiting for you to show up in front of him. He thinks it's been hours and you’ll recover soon, for him it hasn't been two weeks”' he explained and he wiped my cheek.

“He… he’s no, you're messing with me. San… I need to see him!” I declared and he grabbed my elbow. “You shouldn't be so rash. No one knows you’ve recovered… Kun thinks you're as good as dead. He was there when you flatlined and thought there's no hope” he said and everything was overwhelming.

“I need to see him,” I pleaded and he smiled. “And we will, just let me go to the station first. We’ll go later today, I want to take you back home–" "No” I refused and he sighed.

“The blood is clean… Wonyoung had people clean your apartment–" "It won’t feel right with them not there” I argued and he sighed. 

“Give me a few hours then, I'll call Yuta and Shotaro, they'll take care of you,” he said and I sighed. “I’m a grown woman I don’t need to be taken care of” I argued and he nodded. 

“Okay… but they’ll meet with you to make sure you're okay, '' he said and I nodded. “I can walk–” “I need time alone… I know where they work” I said and he nodded. “Be careful, you just–” “Taeyong please” I pleaded and he nodded as he left. 

I couldn't stop the tears flowing down. I was an idiot… I doubted them and I failed Hongjoong… I need to talk to him–

“Why are you crying again?” I heard as I noticed a man in front of me. It was the man that helped me before. “It's been a long day” I answered and he nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but please don’t cry, surely whatever it is it can be fixed?” he said with a  cheerful smile. “Have you ever owned a hybrid?” I asked and his eyes widened. “Only one,” he said and I nodded. “How do you know their feelings are genuine and they actually love you?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“That's an interesting question… Well, hybrids are known for faking they care but that's a rare few. If you treat them with love and care I can assure you they will be the same” he said and I nod. 

“What if they fake it though, even if you love them to the best of your ability?” I asked and he hummed. “Well, a hybrid can fake words, but the things they do have meaning. Where– I mean hybrids are like animals by the end of the day. They have animal habits they follow, like uhm bunnies circle around their owners, fox hybrids are dependent on owners and usually bond to one person for the rest of their life–" "What about canines and panthers?” I asked and he chuckled. 

“That's a weird pair?” he laughed and I smiled. 

“Well, panther hybrids only really expose themselves to their owners when they fully trust them so sleeping is a big one. Uhm… panthers are actually known to cook or feed their mates as an act of love? –” San often would feed me off his own plate and make me eat more… and he would always say how he preferred sleeping in my room.

He was showing he trusted me… 

“– Dog hybrids however, are known to scent their mates and groom them? So dog hybrids will often fix their owners hair or males would often scent their owner to tell others to back off” he explained and suddenly Yeosang made much more sense to me. 

“I can tell you're a good hybrid owner… any hybrid would be lucky for someone to care about them like you do” he said and I smiled. 

“Thank you…?” I didn't know his name. “Oh? Uhm my name! My name is… Yunho” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, Yunho! My name is y/n” I said and he smiled. 

“It was my pleasure, ah! I think you dropped this?” 

Yuta and Shotaro were spamming my phone. 

I was now in front of the infamous building… The Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center. 

I entered and I was immediately greeted by a shocked Haechan. I smiled at the boy who couldn’t even produce a sentence. “YOU'RE OKAY!” he yelled and I laughed as he hugged me tight. “We were convinced you weren’t gonna wake up” he muttered and I ruffled his hair. “Where's Kun?” I asked and he sighed. “Kun cares about you a lot… so does Doyoung but Kun sees you like his little sister–”

“Haechan, what's going on with him?” I asked and he sighed

“He’s planning on sending Wooyoung and San to Jeju’s Rehabilitation Center, as for Yeosang… There's a threat of legal action with his previous owner, Seonghwa is going to be moved to a breeding farm, and Hongjoong is being sent out of Korea '' he explained and I was speechless. 

“W-What?” I asked and he nodded. “Kun right now is out but he’ll be back soon–” “Take me to San,” I said and he shook his head. “Only Kun and Doyoung have the key to get in there… and you're not supposed to be allowed without them knowing,” he said and I smiled. 

“Please, let me see one of them?” I asked and he nodded. “I can take you to Yeosang,” he said and I nodded. He talks to have someone come get me and lead me to Yeosang.

“y/n?” I heard and saw Renjun. I smiled softly and offered a hug. “I'm so glad you're okay! When did you get discharged” he asked and I sighed. “Maybe two hours ago?” I said and he scoffed. “You should be resting–” “I need to see if they're okay” I cut him off and he nodded. 

He leads me around the green code hybrids seeking adoption until we go towards the ones who have not been cleared for adoption. 

“He’s missed you a lot,” he said and I smiled. He opened the curtain and I saw he was asleep. “Jaemin has been trying his best to cheer up him and Wooyoung but it's been hard for them,” he said and I nodded. “I’m only doing this cause I know he won’t hurt you and he is still your hybrid,” he said as he opened the kennel and waited for me to enter. 

I nod and go in to kneel close to his bed. I pet his ears softly as he whined and opened his eyes slightly. “Hello, sleeping beauty,” I said and his ears flattened on his head. 

“Are you real?” he asks as he grabs my hand, tightening it as if I'd disappear. “I’m real, Yeosang,” I said and he sat up looking at me for what felt like a few minutes before he started crying. 

“Please, be real! I…  I miss you” he said as he hugged me tightly. I rubbed it back as he sobbed. “I’m here, I promise,” I said and he pulled away to look at me. I wanted to cry too… so many times I got into my head that he faked everything to hide away from his owner when I should’ve known better. 

His hand cupped my jaw to where my bandages lay. “Does it hurt?” he asked and I smiled. “I’ll heal,” I said and he nodded. 

“I’m sorry for making you adopt them–” “It's not your fault… I got in my own head. Hongjoong is rough around the edges–” “You shouldn’t defend him” he said angrily and I smiled. 

“Yeosang…. He was wronged. I should’ve voiced my thoughts sooner, but he deserves a second chance. What you suggested was sweet… he’s lived tormented by humans so he deserves to feel loved even if he doesn't know how to accept it��� I said and his eyes widened. He nods…

“You’re too good to be real. I still don’t believe you're actually here… maybe you're a true angel visiting me in my dreams'' he said and I chuckled. “I don’t have wings or a halo,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Doesn’t mean you aren't an angel to me” he said and I smiled. 

“y/n?” I heard and I looked behind me to see Doyoung. “Did Haechan tell you?” I asked and he nodded. “I-I’m, why didn’t they tell us you were awake?!” he asked and I smiled while looking at Yeosang. “Well, I did wake up two hours ago,” I said and Yeosang laughed. “You should be resting,” he said and I smiled. 

“I know… Doyoung. Can I see San?” I asked and he sighed. “I don’t have the key… Kun has taken charge of seeing Hongjoong and San, I only see them to check up on them” he said and I nodded.

“And… Wooyoung?” I asked and he sighed almost nervously.

“He’s… he needs to see you”

Yeosang was gonna be checked one last time by Doyoung while he led me in front of Wooyoung’s kennel. “Be careful with him… he’s been worse than I've ever seen him” he said and Yeosang didn’t want to let go of my hand. 

“I’ll be here when you're out, I promise,” I said and he didn’t look convinced. “When have I ever lied to you? Or broken a promise?” I asked and he nodded. 

They leave me alone with Wooyoung’s key. I knock before opening the door… It's to tell the hybrid I'm going in. I open it and see that he’s already staring at the door. His eyes widened. 

“y/n?” he said and I noticed how hoarse his voice was. How skinny he was… how tired he looked. “Hello, Woo,” I said, trying my best to offer a happy smile as I felt my vision blur. “You're… alive?” he said, confused and not moving. 

“Missed me?” I said and I sat down on the floor to sit at eye level with him. “I…” he was speechless. I smiled as I hugged him… his tears and sobs broke my heart. The way he tightened his grip on my body and let out cries was the only thing I could focus on. 

He struggled with words as he sobbed. 

“I... I lost- any hope that you were alive!” he let out and I felt a serious ache in my heart. “I’m sorry,” I said and he shook his head as he let go and ghosted his hand on my jaw. “It's not your fault,” he said and I knew what he suggested. 

“It's not his fault either… I should’ve talked about what I was feeling "I said and he said nothing but hugged me. We sat there on the floor with him hugging me in silence.

“Wooyoung '' I heard as I saw Yeosang in his regular clothes and his collar. “Yeosang?” he said as he lifted his head without letting me go to see his friend. “The doctor wants to see you so he can discharge you,” he said and he tightened his grip on me.

“I’ll still be here… you get to be in comfortable clothes and your collar again,” I said and he nodded letting go but did move to leave.

“She’ll still be here,” Yeosang said and Wooyoung nodded. “Can… Can we get food from that street food market?” he asked and I smiled. “Anything you want,” I said and he nodded. He leaves but not without looking at me one last time and giving me a slight smile.

Progress…

“Are you gonna take in those tigers again?” Yeosang asked and I sighed. “I hate how I… I want to give them a second chance. A better chance without me being scared of them… I took them in because they wanted a better life and I didn’t even try like I did with you, Wooyoung, and San” I explain and nod. 

“I don’t trust them” he said and I smiled. “And you have every right to,” I said. 

“y/n?” I heard and I saw Jaemin who looked at me with the biggest smile. “How are you doing?” I said and he chuckled. “You see Yeosang, she’s okay,” he said and Yeosang nodded. “Jaemin? Can you take me to Seonghwa?” I asked and he sighed. “The tigers are gonna be transferred–” “Kun can’t do that, I'm still their owner,” I said and he chuckled. 

“You're the same as ever. Let me take you there then, I'd rather not be sued and in debt even more than I am” he said and I chuckled.

“Yeosang, stay here for Wooyoung,” I said and he shook his head getting ready to argue– “He needs someone here, and I’ll be back,” I said and he nodded reluctantly. 

I followed Jaemin when I noticed he was also a code green hybrid. “Seonghwa, you have a visitor,” Jaemin said as he opened the curtain first. 

He looked at me shocked. 

“You're… I’m sorry! I should’ve stopped Hongjoong, please I-I’m so–” “Seonghwa it isn't your fault '' I said while giving him a smile and he looked at me with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry for not offering you what I did to my hybrids' ' I said and he looked confused. “You deserve a second chance… so does Hongjoong. Let me make it up to you” I said and he shook his head. 

“I… I should be asking that of you!” he said desperately and I smiled. 

“Let's make it up to each other then!” I said and he was frozen… “I… why do you still want me?” he asked and I shrugged. “You’re a sweet hybrid… a farm doesn’t suit you at all,” I said and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I… I really am sorry I wasn't–” “It's not your fault, you… were the sweetest. You tried so hard to earn a place with me and I know you deserve it. So I'm sorry for letting Hongjoong’s words get into my head, I really do think you deserve better Seonghwa '' I said and he was silent. 

“Do you accept me?” I asked and he smiled softly. 

“If you’ll take me” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Zuck’s gravity-defying metaverse money-pit

Tomorrow (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

Think of everything that makes you miserable as being caught between two opposing, irresistible, irrefutable truths:

"Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops" (Stein's Law)

"Markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent" (Keynes)

Both of these are true, even though they seemingly contradict one another, and no one embodies that contradiction more perfectly than Mark Zuckerberg.

Take the metaverse.

Zuck's "pivot" to a virtual world he ripped off from a quarter-century old cyberpunk novel (reminder: cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion) was born of desperation.

Zuck fancies himself an avatar of the Emperor Augustus (that's why he has that haircut) (no, really). The emperors of antiquity are infamous for getting all weepy when they run out of lands to conquer.

But the lachrymosity of emperors has little causal relationship to the anxieties of tech monopolists! Alexander weeps because he just loves a good conquest and when he finishes conquering the world, he's terminally bored. That's not Zuck's problem at all. When Zuck attains monopoly status, his company develops an autoimmune disorder, as his vicious princelings run out of enemies to destroy and begin to knife one another.

Any monopoly faces these destructive microincentives, but tech is exceptional here because tech has the realtime flexibility and speed that brick-and-mortar businesses can never match:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Sociopaths with tech monopolies are worse for the same reason that road-rage would be worse in a flying car: adding new capacity to indiscriminate self-destructive urges turns ordinary car crashes into low-level airburst warfare:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

The flexibility of digital gives tech platforms so much latitude to break things in tiny increments. A tech platform is like a Jenga tower composed of infinitely divisible blocks. The Jenga players are the product managers and executives who have run out of the ability to grow by attracting new business thanks to their monopoly dominance. Now they compete with one another to increase the yield from their respective divisions by visiting pain upon the business customers and end users their platform connects. By tiny increments, they increase the product's cost, lower its reliability, and strip it of its utility and then charge rent to restore its functionality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/24/cursed-bigness/#incentives-matter

This is the terminal stage of enshittification, the unstoppable autocannibalism of platforms as they seek to harvest all the value created by business customers and end users, leaving the absolute minimum of residual value needed to keep both stuck to the platform. This is a brittle equilibrium, because the difference between "I hate this service but I just can't stop using it," and "Get me the fuck out of here" is razor-thin.

All it takes is one tiny push – a whistleblower, a livestreamed mass-shooting, a Cambridge Analytica – and people bolt for the doors. This triggers the final stage: the "pivot," which is a tech euphemism for "panic."

For Zuck, the pivot got real after a disappointing earnings call triggered a mass sell-off of Facebook stock, history's worst one-day value incineration, which lopped a quarter of a trillion dollars off the company's market cap:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-12-19/dramatic-stock-moves-of-2022-led-by-meta-dive-nordic-flash-crash

This was when the metaverse became the company's top priority.

Now, in my theory of enshittification, the step that follows the pivot is death: "Finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Many people have asked me about the conspicuous non-death of Facebook! That's where I have to fall back on Stein's Law: "Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Facebook can't continue to annihilate value, alienate its workers, harm the public, hemorrhage money in support of a mediocrity's cherished folly forever. Can it?

Admittedly, it sure seems like it can. Facebook's metaverse pivot has thus far cost the company $46,500,000,000. That is: $46.5 billion. That's even more money than Uber torched, seeking to maintain the illusion that they will be able to create monopolies on both transport and the labor market for driving and recoup the billions the Saudi royal family let them use for the con:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Don't worry: the Saudi royals are fine! They cashed out at the IPO, collecting a tidy profit at the expense of retail investors who assumed that a pile of shit as big as Uber must have a pony under it, somewhere:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber has doubled the cost of rides and halved drivers' wages, using illegal gimmicks like "algorithmic wage discrimination" to squeeze a little more juice out of the nearly exhausted husks of its workforce:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But Stein's Law hasn't been repealed. Drivers can't drive for sub-subsistence wages. Do that long enough and they'll literally starve: that's what "subsistence" means. We lost a decade of transit investment thanks to the Uber con, at the same time as traditional taxi drivers were forced out of the industry. Uber can't be profitable and still pay a living wage, and the fantasy of self-driving cars as a means of zeroing out the wage-bill altogether remains stubbornly, lethally unworkable:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Which means we're at the point where you can get off a commuter train at a main station and find yourself stranded: no taxis at the taxi-queue, no busses due for an hour, and no Uber cars available unless you're willing to pay $95 for a ten-minute ride in a luxury SUV (why yes, this did happen to me recently, thanks for asking).

As more and more of us are exposed to these micro-crises, the political will to do something will increase. This can't go on forever. "Don't use commuter rail" isn't a viable option. "Walk three miles each way to the commuter rail station" isn't viable either. Neither is "Pay $95 for an Uber to get to the station." Something's gotta give…eventually.

"Eventually" is the key word here. Remember the corollary of Stein's Law: Keynes's maxim that "markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent." Sure, anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, but that is no guarantee of a soft landing. You can't smoke two packs a day forever – but in the absence of smoking cessation, the eventual terminus of that habit is stage-four lung cancer. Keep hammering butts into your face and your last smoke will come out a crematorium chimney.

Zuckerberg hasn't merely blown a whole-ass Twitter on the metaverse with nothing to show for it – he's gotten richer while doing it! In the past year, his net worth increased by 130%, to $59 billion, thanks to an increase in Facebook's share-price, driven by investors who stubbornly remain irrational, keeping the Boy Emperor solvent long past any reasonable assessment of his performance.

What are these investors betting on? One possibility is that the rise and rise of Facebook's share-price represents a bet on technofeudalism. Since the Communist Manifesto, Marxists have been predicting the end of capitalism. That end seems to have come, but what followed capitalism wasn't socialism, it was the return of feudalism, an economic system where elites derive their wealth from rents, not profits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profit is the income you get from investing in capital – machinery, systems, plant – and then harvesting the surplus value created by workers who mobilize this capital. Capitalism produces massive returns for its winners – in the Manifesto's first chapter, Marx and Engels just geek out about how productive and dynamic this system is.

But capitalism is also a Red Queen's Race, where the winners have to run faster and faster to stay in the same place. Capitalism drives competition, as other would-be winners pile into the sector, replicating the systems that the current winners are using and then improving on them. This is why the prophets of capitalist end-times like the FBI informant Peter Thiel say that "competition is for losers."

Capitalism's "profits" stand in contrast to the feudalist's "rents." Rents are income you get from owning something that other people need to produce things. The capitalist owns the coffee-shop, but the feudalist owns the building. When a rival capitalist opens a superior coffee-shop and drives the old shop out of business, the capitalist loses, but the rentier wins. Now they can rent out an empty storefront in the neighborhood everyone's coming to because of that hot new cafe.

Feudal and manorial lords also made their fortunes by extracting surplus value from workers, but these rentiers don't care about owning the means of production. The peasant in the field pays for their own agricultural equipment and livestock – control over the means of production is necessary for worker liberation, but it's not sufficient. The worker's co-op that owns its factory can still find the value it produces bled off by the landlord who owns the land the factory sits on.

The jury's still out on whether American workers really see themselves as "temporarily embarrassed millionaires," but America's capitalists have a palpable, undeniable loathing for capitalism. The dream of an American "entrepreneur" is *PassiveIncome: money you get from owning something capitalists and/or workers use to create value. Digital technology creates exciting new possibilities for rent-extraction: a taxi-operator had to buy and maintain a car that someone else drove. Uber can offload this hassle onto its drivers and rent out access to the chokepoint it created between drivers and riders, charging all the traffic can bear. This is feudalism in the cloud – or as Yannis Varoufakis calls it, cloudalism.

In Varoufakis's Technofeudalism, he describes Amazon as a feudal venture. From a distance, Amazon seems like a bustling marketplace of manic capitalism, with sellers avidly competing to offer more variety and lower costs in a million independently operated storefronts. But closer inspection reveals that Amazon is a planned economy, not a market.

Every one of those storefronts pays rent to the same landlord – Amazon – which determines which goods can be offered for sale. Amazon sets pricing for those goods, and extracts 45-51% of every dollar those sellers make. Amazon even controls which goods are shelved at eye-height when you enter the store, and which ones are banished to a dusty storeroom in a distant sub-basement you'll never find:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

Zuck's metaverse is pure-play technofeudalism, Amazon taken to the logical extreme. It's easy to get distracted by the part of Zuck's vision that will convert us all into legless, sexless, heavily surveilled low-resolution cartoon characters. But the real action isn't this digitization of our fleshy wants and needs. Zuck didn't spend $46.5B to torment us.

The cruelty isn't the point of the metaverse.

The point of the metaverse is to rent us out to capitalists.

Zuck doesn't know why we would use the metaverse, but he believes that if he can convince capitalists that we all want to live there, that they'll invest the capital to figure out how to serve us there, and then he can extract rent from those capitalists and start earning "passive income." It's an Uber for Cyberpunk Dystopias play.

Zuck's done this before. Remember the "pivot to video?" Zuckerberg wanted to compete with Youtube, but he didn't want to invest in paying for video production. Videos are really expensive to produce and the median video gets zero views. So Zuck used his captive audience to trick publishers into financing his move into video. He fraudulently told publishers that videos were blowing up on Facebook, outperforming boring old text by vast margins.

Publishers borrowed billions and raised billions more in the capital markets, financing the total conversion of newsrooms from text to video and precipitating a mass extinction event for print journalists. Zuck kept the con alive by giving away (fewer) billions to some of those publishers, falsely claiming that their videos were generating fortunes in advertising revenue. These lucky, credulous publishers became judas goats for their industry, luring others into the con, the same way that the "lucky" guy a carny lets win a giant teddy-bear at the start of the day lures others into putting down $5 to see if they can sink three balls in a rigged peach-basket.

But when we stubbornly refused to watch videos on Facebook, Zuck stopped spreading around these convincer payouts, and precipitated a second mass-extinction event in news media, as the new generation of video journalists joined their predecessors in Facebook-driven unemployment. Given this history, it's surreal to see publishers continue to insist that Facebook is stealing their content, when it is so clearly stealing their money:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

Metaverse is the new Pivot to Video. Zuckerberg is building a new world, which he will own, and he wants rent it to capitalists, who will compete with one another in just the way that Amazon's sellers compete. No matter who wins that competition, Zuckerberg will win. The prize for winning will be a rent increase, as Zuckerberg leverages the fact that your "successful" business relies on Facebook's metaverse to drain off all the value your workers have produced:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/18/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video/

This can't last forever, but how long until Zuck's reality distortion field runs out of battery? That's the $46.5B question.

The market can certainly remain irrational for a hell of a long time. But the market isn't the only force that regulates corporate outcomes. Regulators also regulate. Europe's GDPR is now seven years old, and it plainly outlaws Facebook's surveillance.

For nearly a decade, Facebook has pretended that this wasn't true, and they got away with it. Mostly, that's thanks to the fact that Ireland is a corporate crime-haven with a worse-than-useless Data Protection Commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

But anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. Facebook has finally been dragged into EU federal jurisdiction, where it will face exterminatory fines if it continues to spy on Europeans:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/07/luck-of-the-irish/#schrems-revenge

In response, Facebook has rolled out a subscription version of its main service and its anticompetitive acquisition, Instagram:

https://about.fb.com/news/2023/10/facebook-and-instagram-to-offer-subscription-for-no-ads-in-europe/

For €10/month, Facebook will give you an ad-free experience across its service offerings (it's €13/month if you pay through an app, as Facebook recoups the 30% #AdTax rents that the feudal Google/Apple mobile duopoly extracts).

But this doesn't come close to satisfying Facebook's legal obligations under the GDPR. The GDPR doesn't ban ads, it bans spying. Facebook spies on every single internet user, all the time. The apps we use are built with "free" Facebook toolkits that extract rent from the capitalists who make them by harvesting our data as we use their apps. The web-pages we visit have embedded Facebook libraries that do the same thing for web publishers. Facebook buys our data from brokers. Facebook has so many ways of spying on us that there's almost certainly no way for Facebook to stop spying on you, without radically transforming it operation.

To comply with the GDPR, Facebook must halt surveillance advertising altogether. There's no way to square "spying on users" with "you can't surveil without explicit consent, and you can't punish people for refusing."

And of course, "not spying" isn't the same as "not advertising." "Contextual advertising" – where ads are placed based on the thing you're looking at, not who you are and what you do – is hundreds of years old. Context ads underperform surveillance ads by a slim margin – about 5% – but they're vastly more profitable for publishers. That's because surveillance ads are feudal, controlled by rentiers like Facebook, who own vast troves of the surveillance data needed to run these ads. Traditional ad intermediaries (agencies, brokers) took 10-15% out of the total advertising market. Ad-tech companies – the Google/Facebook duopoly – take 51% out of every ad dollar spent.

Eliminate surveillance ads and you torch their feudal estates. Facebook will always know more about someone reading a news article than the publisher – but the publisher will always know more about the article than Facebook does:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

There are rents under capitalism, just as there are profits under feudalism. The defining characteristic of a system is what happens when rents and profits come into conflict. If profits win – for example, if productive companies beat patent trolls, or if news publishers escape Facebook's rent-extraction – then the system is capitalist. If rents win – if investors continue to bet large on the metaverse as its losses pass $50 billion and head for the $100 billion mark – then the system is feudal.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. The question isn't whether the platforms will eventually become so enshittified that they die – the question is whether they will go down in an all-consuming fireball, or whether they'll go down in a controlled demolition that lets us evacuate the people they've trapped inside them first:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/09/let-the-platforms-burn/

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/2023/10/30/markets-remaining-irrational/#steins-law

Image: Diego Delso (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Puente_de_las_cataratas_Victoria,_Zambia-Zimbabue,_2018-07-27,_DD_10.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

[honeykaes]

le sacrifice du sang

vampire!neuvillette x reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, vampire au, set in 17th century esc france, blood, biting, ritual sex, self harm (neuvillette cuts his wrist for the ritual), soulmate, xenophobia, praise, creampies, monsterfucking adjacent, unedited

synopsis: for decades the village has been thriving despite the vampiric armies ravaging throughout europe. Cast aside for being an outsider, you are deemed as a sacrifice to a vampire lord to stop the attacks in the region.

Night seemed endless. Most days you would barely see the sun bright outside under the sky. All you could do was sigh, shifting on the soft sheets of the grandiose bed you rested in. A long chiffon nightgown covered your form and rested right at your ankles. You balled your fists on the ornate patterns of the comforter of the bed, golden and navy threads showing off just how much it was worth.

You turned your head to the stained glass window seeing the sun hiding behind the horizon and stars beginning to peak out in the darkening sky—the multicolor light pigmented in blues and purples reflected on the ground as its shadow grew signaling the fleeting light.

Part of you is surprised you're up so early in your new sleep schedule but another part of you questions why you’re even alive right now to look outside the stained glass window. Three weeks ago you were set to die, yet you have lived in the lap of luxury.

All because of him.

Vampires have been ravaging Europe for a few decades now, causing an all-out war in some regions of the land. Your family insisted on heading there despite it, as traders would surely flourish against the nobles desperate for supplies and your nativity allowed you to follow them. 

Trying to settle and trade in Europe began in disaster as xenophobia grew rapid—war, fear, and prejudices clouding their judgment. You lost your family very early on when you arrived in Europe, losing a lot and trying to scour and try to collect wherever you could to mourn and live. France became the best option to live in since the fighting was beginning to cease in the country.

In the southeast part of the region, you settled in a village. You remained there for five years, trying to make ends meet as a seamstress. You always wondered why vampires didn’t attack and slaughter you and the rest of the village as you heard others had faced. The village had not seen an inkling of the dissipating war around it, and you later discovered why.

To appease the vampiric lords and ladies of France, human sacrifices were commenced—one to save all. You weren’t completely sure who the lord of this area even was, yet you were about to find out after the Judge of the town deemed yourself as the sacrifice.

You begged, you pleaded, you cried but no one in the town so much as pitied you. In their eyes, you were an outsider; someone even more worthy of being sacrificed than “one of their own”. Bullshit is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the power to defy it.

That man eventually collected you after, the lord of the southern region of France—Monsieur Neuvillette. When he descended, in navy and black, you thought he was an angel and thought the village already killed you thinking he was an angel instead. 

He didn’t seem human at all. 

Long white hair cascaded down his back and lowly tied towards the end with streaks of gradient blue flowing through it. His lavender eyes, pupil slit, and irises glowing, drinking up every unconscious tick and stubble expression in your body and face. His face was stern, but his eyes seemed kind.

He asked you one question that night.

“What is your name, dear?” 

You answered as his eyes softened, lifting his hand to your eyes to cover your gaze

“Then, (Y/n). I’m sorry circumstances have brought us here.”

Darkness was all you were faced with. In a way, you thought death had arrived, only to wake up in a beautifully decorated room in a château when you awoke.

Neuvillette was kind albeit stoic during your time in his château. Many nights, you’d have dinner with him—his eyes just on you as he quietly drank his silver chalice filled with the iron-rich stench of blood from someone who wasn’t you.

Those nights he would reveal more information about himself and you’d do the same. He told you how he was a lord and has been “in this state” for several millennia. He told you about the rise and fall of empires and even vampiric ones history had all but forgotten. 

Neuvillette also discussed how most of the sacrifices ended up working as servants in the château who he called “Melusines”. 

In the second week since your “sacrifice”, he also mentioned another vampire lord living in this château—Lady Furina. He talked about how eager she was to interact with her subjects, including yourself but he had told her to stay away from you for now as her bloodlust was unpredictable.

But one slip of the tongue had changed the casual conversation into something more serious.

“...She is not to bother you, yet. Not before you are turned at the least.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, lips parting hearing him say those words. Turning? Turning into what?

“What do you mean by that…” you questioned. He placed his chalice down, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts before crossing his arms.

“I apologize. I have neglected to inform you about this since I wanted you to get adjusted to your new life here first,” he murmured. You clenched your jaw, trying to read his stoic expression but it was the same as it’s always been. 

“I admit I played a role in why the Judge had chosen you specifically. When you first settled in the village, your scent informed me that you were my mate. My soulmate,” he replied. You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in shock. 

“Smell me? Soulmate? What does that even mean, Neuvillette?! I thought vampires only were interested in other vampires and humans were seen as food. That’s why there’s a war in the rest of Europe after all,” you shouted. He did not flinch at your raising pitch in tone. He gave a small humorless laugh at your words.

“That’s not exactly true. A curse befalls vampires and those with vampiric natures in more than one way than ‘evolving’ from their human characteristics. The same people many see as food can be the only chance to find their mate. Whether unconsciously or not we are always searching, our body craves the touch and affection only our mates can give us, soothing one might say, the soul,” he revealed.

You look down at your plate, half-eaten cake on it before gently pushing it away. There was a pause where no one said anything, but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your chest.

“...Are you scared? Do you need some time to process this? We can save the rest of this conversation later,” Neuvillette discussed. You swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that caught your throat suddenly but refused to look him in his eyes for now.

“H-How would this process work exactly? I’m guessing vampires and mortal humans don't mix well,” you muttered. Neuvillette sighed, grunting in agreement.

“Well. There’s a ritual in a sense to create a bond between each party’s body and soul. The ritual entails copulation and when my fangs pierce your skin in the process. It will signal to both your body and soul that your bond with me has been found and eventually your physiology will adjust into something more like me.”

“...Something that of a vampire,” you whispered, looking up at him. He silently nodded as silence befell the two of you for now. Neuvillette let out a heavy sigh, but the corners of his lips curved into a small smile to try to ease the pain you were faced with.

“I recognize this is a lot for any human to face, so please take as much time as you need. There is no rush, so process however long it will take,” he said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone with the crackling fire in the dining room. 

It had been a year since that night he revealed himself as your soulmate. A year to finally process and accept your fate. You chuckled to yourself finally seeing the sun’s light completely disappear and the moon rising brightly in the sky.

Tonight you would mourn your mortality.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and memories before you called out they could enter. Neuvillette walked in, wearing his own nightgown falling to his ankle, body completely covered in the white chiffon fabric. He stood by the door still, letting you have your space that was resting on the bed.

“Are you sure you are ready? We can wait later to do this. I can wait,” Neuvillette murmured. You flashed a shaky smile before sighing.

“Yes. I am Neuvillette. I promise,” you replied. Neuvillette walked over until he was in front of you, long fingers clasping gently as your chin before lifting it up. Your lips parted in shock gazing into his eyes that softened.

“I’m going to ask one more time, are you sure you’re ready,” he asked, voice low and husky. Your body trembled at the tone of his voice before you slowly nodded your head—you could hear your eardrums echoing out the beat of your quickening heart. 

You slowly lifted your nightgown off and the fabric pools on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable to his gaze and touch. He followed, letting his nightgown fall onto the floor. His body was more muscular than you thought based on the attire you usually saw him adorning in the halls. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

Neuvillette softly smiles leaning in to press his lips against your own. He soon is on top of you, the bed creaked as the weight of two bodies pressed against it. His lips were soft, easily molding on your own while ever so often a sharp pain would poke at your bottom lip. 

“If I’m being honest, I never thought I would experience this. You don’t know how long I waited for this...how I longed for you,” he whispered, as his lips eventually left your own, settling in the nape of your neck. Your body trembled as Neuvillette let his fangs graze against the sensitive skin while his hand traveled down and squeezed the plush of your thighs. 

He finally finds your cunt, cupping his hand at it as he continues to nipple and his along your neck. He soon applied pressure and your hips instinctively began to grind trying to get a lick of friction to brush against your needy clit. Feeling you grind on his hand made Neuvillette chuckle before he opened his eyes admiring the slick now clinging to his palm.

“So pliable under my touch, I’m glad you're enjoying yourself,” he whispered in your ear, hearing another moan rip from your mouth. He soon shifted his position; his thumb now firmly pressed against the nub of your clit pressing tight circles on it. Your form began to twist and your hips shifted as Neuvillette’s hand followed every movement, not budging his focused ministrations once.

His other thumb brushed against your pebbled nibbles, relishing in the way your body jolted from the various sensations. Your breathing became heavy, feeling your entire body flutter inching closer and closer to your high.

“Neuvillette. Neuvillette…I’m—” you groaned out before suddenly Neuvillette completely stopped. You snapped your eyes open in surprise, looking over at him perplexed as his gaze softened and lips tugged in a smile.

“Why did you stop…?” you whispered, puzzled by his actions. Neuvillette leaned in to kiss your forehead while cleaning the slick clinging to his fingers on his thighs as it smeared.

“I needed to make sure you were prepared for me. The ritual unfortunately cannot work if you lose yourself to my fingers, mon cœur. Unless you preferred to wait as I asked earlier,” Neuvillette hummed. You bite your lip, in embarrassment as Neuvillette grasped his cock.

It’s thick, and long and the only vein you could see ran along the base of it. His cock curled up and twitched every few seconds, eager for attention. He let out a grunt, pumping his cock a few times as his tip—flushed pale pink—budded with precum. He rested his length against your slit, letting it slide up and down and gathering the arousal drooling out of your cunt. He let his tip tap against your stimulated clit causing you to shiver before he nestled it against your entrance once more.

As he pushed the tip inside of you, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more before sinking his cock further inside of you. Your nails harpoon against his broad back and you widen your legs wider trying to adjust to his length. Your walls burned at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he descended further inside of you.

Finally bottoming out, he slowly slid out before plunging in once more, thrusting with meticulous but strong strokes. Your body moved to his pace, bed beginning to moan and creak while hitting against the wall. 

He grunted louder in the kiss, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain himself. He leaned up as you tried catching your breath, stammering his name as his breathing became heavier while his thrusts became faster.

Neuvillette parted his mouth to let his fangs elongate before they buried themselves in the nape of your neck. You yelped, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain of his bite throbbed and shot throughout your entire body. You could hear him gulp and moan, sucking the river of blood pouring down at the wound while he continued to rut inside of you.

“Neuvillette…” you whispered out. It was strange. The pain had somehow subsided and your body felt much lighter and aware of his touch and thrusts, trembling in newly found sensitivity and pleasure. It was as if the bite was an aphrodisiac.

Were all bites like this or was it because he claimed to be your soulmate?

He lifted his head, lower face bloodied from the meal he was indulging in—your humanity. His tongue seemed longer, letting it rest against the wound before taking a long stride up to lap up the rest of the blood dripping from the punctures.

Your walls fluttered down on his cock as your writhed, Neuvillette continued to buck—desperate to sink even further inside of you. He sucked a breath in, struggling to keep up with his pace as your walls continued to cave and clamp down.

Neuvillette's hands find themselves beneath you, squeezing the globes of your ass before lifting your bottom half in an attempt to plunge deeper inside of you. His eyes narrowed watching his cock stretch and disappear in your cunt.

“That’s it…you're almost there. Let me see you come undone. Let’s begin our lives together for eternity in the darkness…” Neuvillette muttered, clenching his jaw tight. You squirmed, tears pricking your eyes as you finally reached your high—body shivering and back arching while calling out his name repeatedly. Your walls quivering from your climax were enough for Neuvillette to follow.

He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trial of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.

“Just one more step…please bear with me and stay away,” Neuvillette whispered, placing your hips down on the bed once more. His nails, sharper than before, quickly shut themselves on his wrist—his blood dripping down his forearm. Your eyes and body felt so heavy, your body feeling like your heart was slowing down before you noticed him hovering his injured wrist above your mouth.

Droplets of blood trickled down your chest and chin before finally landing in your open mouth.

As you swallowed, your eyes widened feeling an unknown rush flowing throughout your body replenishing your once tired body so suddenly.

“It…it doesn’t taste like iron, but as if your blood is the purest spring water…”

[bbystark]

chimichanga tuesday

deadpool x stark!reader

summary: reader finds herself slightly jealous over Vanessa and Wade's previous relationship. based on this request

a/n: mdni. requests are open! i did not proofread whoops but enjoy! requests are open btw ;)

When Wade first brought up the idea of bringing you to his Chimichanga Tuesdays at Blind Al’s, you were over the moon. This was a big step for you guys and the relationship you had yet to put a title on. He had excitedly started listing the names of everyone that would be there, Colossus, Negasonic “whateverthefuck”, Blind Al, Vanessa- a wave of nausea went through you when he said her name. You weren’t the jealous type, you really weren’t, but the dude put himself through death-defying torture to live for this woman. It was hard not to feel threatened. Besides, who the fuck stays friends with an ex? It blew your mind. 

You knew about their entire history, Wade had told you a few months into hooking up. He didn’t seem to have any secrecy surrounding it, even going as far as to delve into their very active sex life (you had to tell him to shut up when he got to “a pegging christmas”). However, your own fear of his answers kept you from asking the most important one: did he still love her? Would he leave you if she decided she wanted him back? You felt so stupid. You were a Stark for God's sake, your ego should be untouchable. But alas, you actually strongly liked Wade. You were starting to head into that place where just thinking about him brought a stupid love-sick smile to your face. 

So yeah. You were a little jealous of Vannessa, and tonight was Chimichanga Tuesday. You were fucked. Both metaphorically and literally, being on your third Dirty Shirley within the hour. You were waiting for Wade to pick you up from your apartment, growing more and more nervous as time went on. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the front door rattle, Wade bursting in with a stapler in hand. “Hey hot stuff! Sorry about the blood. Was running late to see your tight little ass and had to staple the toupee on the bus. Bumpy ride.” He makes his way over to you, tossing the stapler to the side and pulling you into a hug. “Hi Wade.” You melt into him. “When are you going to let me buy you lace glue for that thing?” You poke at a staple and he winces, grabbing your wrist gently. 

“Hey, the staples are very economically friendly. Not everyone has a disgustingly handsome father to inherit billions from.” He smiles at you, glancing around your apartment and seeing the large bottle of vodka sitting in the middle of your kitchen island. “Woah thirsty girl! You getting the party started already?” 

You suddenly feel ashamed, like a teen who got caught with a beer. “I’ve only had one.” He gives you a look. “Okay three!” He turns to the side and rolls his eyes to his imaginary audience. “We’re lucky she didn’t bring out the tequila. She gets real mean.” You shove him a little bit. “That was one time! It’s not that hard to say excuse me.” “Oh, I’m not mad sugarcakes. Watching you threaten to disembowel someone twice your size really got little Deadpool going. I am slightly concerned though. Broody and depressed alcoholics run in your family. What’s going on in that brain?” 

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find a response. You consider lying, but suddenly you feel a little light and stupid thanks to your last drink and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“Do you still love Vannessa?” 

Wade freezes, a little shocked by the question. He’s silent for longer than he’s ever been and you’re scared you’ve gone too far. You’re about to apologize and take your words back  when he puts his finger over your lips and says “Give me two seconds for a dramatic flashback and careful introspection that will eventually lead to important character development.” You give him a strange look and he sighs. “Trust me, it’s very important to our plot.” 

Wade thinks really hard. He still loves Vannessa in his own fucked up way but he wasn’t in love with her anymore. He knew she still loved him too, but in the same way an owner can’t hate a pet that constantly bites them. Except Wade was a pet who got cancer and abandoned her, not to mention put her life on the line on multiple occasions (although to his credit, he did save her and the entire timeline). But to put it simply, somehow the two most fucked up people had the healthiest breakup ever. 

Even given the chance, Wade knows he wouldn’t go back to Vannessa because it could never be the same. Wade used to painfully long for his past before seeing a motivational poster that said “keep chugging along” with a creepy looking animated train. Then it really clicked for him. Vannessa wasn’t his happy ending, even though she had given him many in the past. If he had chosen to stay with her instead of being a lab rat for Francis St. Fuck, she would have been. But is dying of cancer and leaving the woman you love alone for the rest of her life a happy ending? He realized that if he kept looking to the past, he would forget that he had created his own weird little family, even if it wasn’t what he originally planned. He would also forget that he has a smoking hot girl in front of him that he’s quickly growing more attached to. 

Wade has been quiet and staring directly at a wall for a long time, and it’s starting to really freak you out. “Wade..?” You try gently. He snaps out of it, shaking his head and laughing a little. “Jeez these flashbacks just keep getting longer and longer, like hello that’s what sequels are for.” You stay silent, looking at him expectantly. “Oh right!” He moves closer to you, taking your hands in his.

“Yes. Yes I do still love Vannessa.” your heart drops, and you quickly pull your hands from his. 

“What the fuck Wade?” 

“No! Wait let me finish, I do still love her, but not like I did. She used to be my everything, the only reason I lived and then later, the reason I tried killing myself but that’s beside the point- what I’m trying to say is that she’s my past. And I get us still being friends is like, totally not the norm but I promise there’s nothing there anymore. I just, care about her I guess. But I don’t want to keep letting my past get in the way of things that are happening now.” He looks you in the eye for the last part, and you almost tear up at the sight of The Wade Wilson being serious for once, and to you of all people. You take a few seconds before replying. 

“I know she’s a huge part of your very unconventional life, and I don’t want to get all psycho and say that I don’t want you to see her because really, I truly don’t mind. Just kind of had a jealous monster take over for a second. I’m sorry.” You give him a shy smile. 

“Hey, I’m just surprised you still haven’t realized you’re fucking an avacado’s abortion. That’s a win in my book.” You both laugh and you take his face in your hands gently, smiling. You don’t really have much to say, you still feel silly, even more so that he’s essentially calmed all your insecurities. So you just stare at him, the drinks in your system letting your fingers dance across his face, just taking all of him in. Wade can’t handle it. 

“I think I like you.” He blurts out. He cringes, he can’t believe he just confessed like a middle schooler. “Bad Deadpool.” he whispers to himself. 

You laugh and then bring his face to yours for a clumsy kiss. “I think I like you too. Avocado abortion face and all.” You kiss him again, slower this time, trying to avoid the staples poking out of his scalp when you place your hand on his neck. He pulls away slowly, eyes still closed. “Good Deadpool.”

[popamolly]

‘ INTERNAL REDEMPTION ’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. In the fiery depths, she captures the attention of Lucifer, who senses a unique purity in her soul. With his help, (Y/N) finds herself on the path to redemption and self-discovery with dangerous trouble along the way.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, she/her pronouns, valentino exists, eventual smut, mention of death, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder

author’s note. inspired by @punching-pentagrams and their amazing ongoing story “Love In as Hopeless Place”, it encouraged me to write my own fic about Lucifer. go check out their story, it is so good and deserves more love!

In the dimly lit, pulsating world of Club Elysium, where the air was thick with anticipation and desire, a mysterious aura surrounded a captivating figure on the stage. Under the flickering neon lights, you moved with a mesmerizing grace that defied the earthly realm. Dressed in glistening attire that caught the reflections of the vibrant hues around her, you became an ethereal presence, drawing the attention of every gaze in the room.

Your movements were a dance of contradictions – an alluring blend of sensuality and innocence. You twirled and swayed to the rhythm of the music, casting a spell upon the enchanted audience.

Unbeknownst to the patrons of Club Elysium, you were more than just an exotic dancer seeking to enthrall with her physical prowess. Your celestial grace, forgotten in the afterlife coil she now inhabited, manifested in the subtle elegance of her performance. As you moved, you felt a distant echo of a certain purpose, an inexplicable connection to something beyond the neon-lit stage.

In the hazy ambiance, Valentino, the enigmatic owner of Club Elysium, watched from the shadows, his eyes reflecting one of red burning lust, but it was more than just lust for you— no, it was something more— it was a thirst for power that had him grinning from ear to ear. Valentino knew that in this corner of Hell he owned everything, even you.

As the music reached its crescendo, your dance reached its zenith. The room held its breath, suspended in a moment where hell and celestial intertwined. You were always the ballerina in the jelwery box, the beautiful antique that Valentino had in his grasp to show off and praise. Though he may own you outside the building you made sure to show him through your dancing, that you were the one that owned the stage. He hated when you went off script or changed the choreography but you made sure to do it on purpose and on nights you knew he was watching you.

That was your little dose of rebellion, a little taste of freedom you could only wish to have. You were content with your situation though, it could’ve been worse. At least with Valentino you were paid, clothed, and feed with an overall decent place to live. Being one of his toys had its perks— you couldn’t complain. Especially when there were those who had it so much worse than you.

“You jus’ love angerin’ him, don’t you doll?” Your coworker, Angel Dust, asked as you entered the dressing room that you and the other dancers shared. The smell of makeup and cheap perfume filled your senses, calming you with the sense of familiarity, “Cause last I checked, that wasn’t what we rehearsed.”

“Well,” You chuckled as you sat on the couch, its fabric ripped and white stuffing nearly popping out the sides, “I just thought that my choreo was better, and by the sound of that crowd and the money on stage, it was.”

“Heh,” Angel couldn’t help but envy your confidence when it came to Valentino, who owned you both in more ways than one and yet you always found a way to yank on the chains without consequence. A part of Angel loathed you for it.

You could sense the mood shift in Angel, not that you cared but you weren’t exactly heartless either. With a sigh, you get up from the couch, ignoring your aching feet as you join Angel’s side, looking into the vanity mirror so you could touch up your makeup, “Trust me, if my act wasn’t purity and innocence it would be a different story. Lucky for me, bruises and marks on my body wouldn’t sell too well.”

“Yeah, count it on luck shortcake.” With that Angel left, pushing another girl out the way angrily while snatching the drink out her hand. You could only sigh, not intending on upsetting him more but as always, your intentions don’t matter when your words spoke otherwise. It had been so long since you had a decent human connection, you were just a bit rusty.

“My sweets,” The sudden sound of Valentino’s voice had the room go silent, the air becoming so thick you were sure you’d might suffocate in it, “Can I have the room please?”

With hushed scared whispers and nervous glances, you and the other girls make your way to the door. You had hoped you could sneak past him under the cover of the other women who all but rushed passed Valentino but his slender hand caught your forearm quick, gripping it with such force that you were slightly shocked by the pain he caused— it wasn’t like him to be rough with you, “Not you, darling. We have to have a chat, don’t we mio caro?”

You turn to look at him with a frown, “About what? My performance?”

“Oh I would love to talk about that little stunt you pulled but I need you for something a bit more important,” Valentino yanks you further into the room, locking the door behind him with his other hand before slinging you against the vanity, bottles of perfume falling over and onto the ground as the desk shakes violently. Your employer towers over you with ease making you shudder beneath his fiery gaze, “I need something done and I need it done right, I trust that you can accomplish this task, yes?”

What shit was he getting you into now? You were done with porn, you had paid a hefty price to alter your contract with him and you weren’t going to slip back into the void now, not when you were so far ahead, “I won’t be one of your pornstars, Val. We had a deal.”

Valentino laughs, his pointy fingernail dragging along your cheek while he licks his lips, “This isn’t about that principessa, this is a more delicate matter. Think you’re up for it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You yank your head away from his hands, lowering your gaze into a slight glare.

“This is why I always liked you, dove. You learn quick.”

“If you were going to tell me to send in a whore Val, I wouldv’e just asked you to send Angel Dust!” Vox glitched with anger, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as he turned around in his chair, his claw like hands gripping onto the table with such force that it left a mark, “What makes this slut is any different from him?!”

It was hard to bite back your tongue but you did, unwillingly submitting to your role as you stood before the V’s with your eyes to the ground, not daring to even look as confident at you usually were. Not because you were scared of them, no, you were scared of embarrassing Valentino. Your boss might have forgiven you for your countless stunts but when it came to matters of business with the V’s, you knew your place.

“Angel dust thinks he is on this path to redemption, let him stay in his delusion but until I can break him fully he will never be loyal to me. Not as loyal as (Y/N) here…” Valentino wraps his hand around your neck, forcing your head up to look at Vox— who for a split second was taken back by your beauty, “I have broken (Y/N) time and time again, she would do anything for me, isn’t that right (Y/N)?”

You closed your eyes, “Yes, Valentino.”

“Good.” Valentino pushes you toward Vox, making you stumble into him, forcing him to catch you in his arms, “Quite the vixen, she would surely catch the eyes of any overlord.”

“Even the King of Hell himself?” Vox tips your chin up with his index finger, looking into your eyes with a devilishly grin that makes you shiver.

“Asmodeus throws the biggest parties in the Pride Ring that is filled with all kinds of debauchery, especially for his birthday.” Valentino explains, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his right leg over the other, exhaling out a long drag of pink smoke, “Every one of importance will be there since it isn’t just a party but a show of status.”

“And..what? Your pretty toy is just supposed to waltz in there and get the attention of any overlord that wants to fuck her?” Velvette finally tears her gaze away from her phone, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Well it is an important party of one of Lucifer’s friends—”

“Which means he is bound to be there.” Vox grins, “Get close to the king and we get closer to controlling Hell.”

“And what makes you so sure he’ll entertain such..” Velvette looks at you with a roll of her eyes, “From what I hear Lucifer is loyal to Lilith, no one has seen him with another woman on his arm and it’s been 7 years, hashtag faithful.”

“Ah, well, 7 years is a long time to go without intimacy…I say the man is touch starved and would like some attention.” Valentino says, “Anyone can still get lonely, no matter how faithful.”

“I like the way you think Val,” Vox grips your chin as you grit your teeth. “And I think your little whore here will do just nicely.”

Before you know it was the day of Asmodeus’ birthday party. The V’s gave you the run down of the plan and how you were supposed to get close to the King of Hell himself— who you haven’t even seen in person for as long as you been hell. Which was a few years by now. You were a simple lowlife, you kept to yourself and tried to survive, only to end up within his grasp. Was he as cruel as people say? ‘What sort of question is that? Of course he was! He was the King of fucking Hell, which last time you checked, wasn’t given to just anyone.’

Of all the people, of everyone in Hell, it just has to be you. Because of your cursed deal with Val, you were stuck in a continuous limbo that you couldn’t escape from. Damn you and your loyalty, damn it all if it will end up with you dead ( again ) on the steps of Lucifer’s palace. This wasn’t fair— but then again, when has your situation ever been fair?

“Oh, you look just like a doll.” Valentino ruffled with the fake angel wings that adorned your back, fixing and prodding with whatever to make you more presentable, “Like an angel. Hell, upon just a glance mio caro you might have been able to get away with actually being one.”

And as you glance at your reflection in the mirror you felt a sudden sharp pain in the center of your forehead. Only fragments of memories came flooding your mind like a crashing wave. It was all so blurry but the word Angel held some sort of weight on you but you couldn’t place exactly what.

You held onto your head, trying to steady your breathing and relaxing your nerves as Valentino continues to add the finishing touches to your look.

“Get it together, dove.” Valentino meets your gaze in the reflection, “I hope you won’t disappoint me.”

“No..” The pain in your head quickly fades away as soon as it came, “I can do this.”

“Good, because it is just about your turn to be presented for the auction.”

The auction. Asmodeus does it for sport at every single one of his parties but now that this is his birthday party, this auction is the biggest one yet. It is where he finds Hell’s most beautiful prized possessions, not limiting to actual sinners. The hope was to capture Lucifer’s attention as he would be in the crowd through this angel facade, and pray that he would bet on you. And if that didn’t work, then you would have to move on to plan B. And you didn’t like plan b.

Valentino wished you luck as you stood behind the curtain to the center stage, disappearing into the shadows to leave you on your own and this mission that was screwed from the get go.

“And last but not least, I present to you—! what is the object’s name again?” The announcer whispers, putting his microphone away from his face to get a confirmation from another employee, “Ah! The pure and innocent, (Y/N)!”

The curtain suddenly opens, the spotlight from above blinding you in away that made you shield your eyes from the brightness. You squint, looking upon a sea of red lustful eyes looking over your figure with curiosity. You take a deep breath, as you played the part of a shy girl, slowly bringing your hands to cover yourself even though the white thin laced gown left little to the imagination.

“Hubba hubba! Would you look at that boys?” Asmodeus’ eyes nearly turn into hearts at the sight of you, “And I thought nothing could even look so angelic in Hell!”

“What a beaut’” Mammon agrees.

“Indeed.” Lucifer sat beside his friends, trying to cover his boredom with peaked interest as he looks in your direction. This whole thing was pretty fucked up to him but that was just the way of life down here, there’s no changing that— no changing people when it is just in their nature. Now usually he wouldn’t indulge such things but he was the King of Hell, and he had to play the part to maintain order even though he longed for nothing but to be constructing rubber ducks right now.

“500!” A man in the crowd closer to the stage shouts.

The announcer points in the man’s direction with enthusiasm, “I hear 500! What about 550? Do I hear 550?”

“600!” Another shouts.

“600 to the gentleman in red! But do I hear a 650? 650?”

Asmodeus sits back in his seat, taking another swig of his whiskey. Mammon looks at his friend in disbelief as the unknown sinners below them begin to shout various of numbers for you, “Is she not to the Lustful Overlords taste?”

“Ah, I have so many who do the innocent act. It gets boring after awhile. But if you’re interested…you should buy her.” Asmodeus smirks, shaking the single ice cube in his glass as he signals to the waitress for another.

“She ain’t my type, but—” Mammon gets a sudden idea, “Lucifer should have her. I’m sure he gets off to the Angel shit don’t you your highness?”

Lucifer tips his hat up with his cane, “I am married.”

“To a woman who you haven’t seen in seven years!” Asmodeus rolls his eyes with a loud groan before raising his hand to join the bid, “Lighten up! Good sir, I say 2500!”

“What a doozy! 2500! 2500! Do I hear 3000!?” The announcer nearly jumps from his stool at the amount offered, “Going once! Going twice—!”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer warned. Not wanting any part in this sinful behavior.

The sound of a gavel rang through the air, finalizing the amount, “And sold to the gentleman in VIP! Your prize will wait outback until you are ready to retrieve it! Enjoy!”

Just like that the plan was working. In just less than five minutes you were sold off like some prize. Your life being in yet another’s hands that wasn’t your own, it was a bit ironic since this life is almost just the same as the one you led on Earth. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish which one was truly Hell.

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