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absolutedestinyapocalypsse · 6 months ago

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i love how as you read more into tlt, the ninth house seems more and more normal. Like if i'm at an immoral evil government competition, and i use human fat as soap and animate skeletons to do menial labor, i'm gonna LOSE if my competition is the third house, represented by ianthe "who HASN'T eaten human flesh and fucked a corpse" tridentarius. My weird skeleton thing seems normal, suddenly. Well-adjusted, even. It's recycling. They're using resources in a sustainable way. Normal and regular and productive for a post-climate change apocalypse universe.

People go on and on about how Muir drops you into gtn hearing from the person who knows the least about whats happening, and does not hand hold the reader through the crazy shit that occurs, and that's all true. It truly is a crazy writing decision to make your first pov character come from the universe's equivalent of amish fundamentalists. But the reader is actually done a huge favor being dropped into the ninth house first, because we already understand that space is cold and what catholic nuns are, and what goths look like, and what lesbians are. Very little time is wasted in the first chunk of gtn ripping hair out of your head wondering what the fuck is going on, because for all of its strangeness, the ninth house is already the most familiar thing we're gonna get.

Because THEN we learn that this whole universe's medieval chivalry system is designed to groom people from CHILDREN to not only be exploited and used as human batteries for necromancers, but to LIKE it. to wax poetic about it. to confuse it for love, to write fucking academic papers about it! Then we learn about planet flipping, an act so horrific and violent it turns the planet's soul into a massive vengeful monster capable of killing GOD. Like what do you MEAN the animals "change"? Is this why noodle has six legs? I would MUCH prefer to wear skeleton makeup and repent forever if the alternative was to witness my family dog grow TWO EXTRA LIMBS because the planet he lived on fucking died. Suddenly, living in the asscrack of a planet where no light gets in seems like a sweet deal when the whole solar system is lit by a sun that MAKES YOU GO CRAZY. The ninth house's WORST sin, killing 200 babies to make Harrow, a waste of resources and an act so terrible it haunts Harrow for the entire span of her life, is like a BLIP compared to the death count Jod's empire. God even hears about it and he's like, no big deal! The cohort probably kills that amount of people in a DAY.

And its ALSO tragic because you realize that all of this trauma and abuse that Gideon goes through is not really because of the ninth house at all. It's really just an individual skill issue that she wasn't treated with compassion. Nobody hated her because she's jesus or a bomb, nobody even KNOWS she's a bomb. It's just Priamhark and Pelleamena being deeply guilty and scared people that motivates her treatment, and absolutely nothing else.

They did something bad, and they know it, and Gideon survived it, and they can't kill her to cover it up, and that's IT. They killed themselves for pride, because they were afraid of the consequences of their actions (both the baby killing and Harrow opening the tomb) coming back to bite them. You can argue this is the catholicism of it all, and I wouldn't say you're wrong, but compared to the cavalier system, where exploitation is in the very lining of the house's institutions, the ninth house is really removed from the space empire's blood factory. This is compared to the fourth house where they have tons of children to be CANNON FODDER to join the cohort at fucking 14, compared to the eight house uncle nephew fuckery, even the fifth house which actually does seems nice to live on but also seems to have the fourth house in some sort of fucked up political bear hug??? (maybe the fourth house has so many kids in order to fight the fifth's battles? which is EXACTLY what jod's whole empire is about; politely stirring your tea and acting nice while you destroy everything) compared to ALL OF THAT, the cruelty that Gideon faces is really more a bug of the ninth's system than a feature.

There's nothing baked into the culture and everyday life of the ninth house that necessitated that cruelty; in fact, for such a pragmatic and resource-scarce place, it's WEIRD that a strong able-bodied young person was treated like a waste of space and resources. It could just have easily not happened, if Harrow's parents had been different people. Maybe they were products of their environment, but so was Harrow, and she values Gideon's life SO MUCH that she'd literally rather carve out parts of her own brain than exploit her. Gideon grows up knowing really NOTHING about cavaliers, so remote from the horrors of the empire that she develops an idea of what the cohort is from porn magazines. And in a lot of ways, that upbringing was desolate and terrible, and in a lot of other ways it literally DID NOT HAVE TO BE.

Gideon's MAIN THING is that she wants to be useful, to be needed, to be loved and it SUCKS that she couldn't even get it in the one place where she was actually an invaluable resource, where the death empire had the weakest reach. Gideon can't even blame her lack of love on the fucked up chivalry system like everyone else can because it JUST WASNT REALLY RELEVENT!?!?! This is like if i rolled up to the trauma competition and everyone else was raised in a nuclear warzone by wolves or something and i grew up in like, the suburbs and was raised by teachers and i somehow STILL WON. truly what the fuck guys.

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #tlt gender studies #none gender with left grief #the locked tomb trilogy

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weebsinstash · 3 months ago

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Now that we've witnessed the Invincible War, I can't help but think of a scenario of "it turns out you're Mark's partner/unwilling darling in every single other universe and when the alternate Marks show up for the big battle, they all freak out at the sight of you because all of them have lost you in their own universes"

Like it's almost a Spiderverse scenario where you arrive on the scene and you find out you're dead in every other universe. Maybe you're the only version of yourself that has powers. Maybe you're the only version of yourself that DOESN'T have powers. Maybe you're the only version of yourself that has Mark as a good platonic friend and every other version of him became Nice Guy Incel From Hell that felt like you belonged with them and either drove you to suicide, lost you in an accident, or accidentally killed you themselves, or maybe you were even totally cool with him and someone else killed you or even something tragic like dying in childbirth

Oh, so there's an evil version of Mark that missed his mom so badly he was going to kidnap an alternate universe version of her to take home?? So you're telling me these guys would absolutely have enough screws loose to immediately call up Angstrom and say that taking you is now part of the deal then?

The versions of Mark who were raised on Viltrum or joined his father, the ones who pride themselves in their superiority and violence, being so impressed by this powerful majestic, strong, superpowered version of you, oh so ready and willing to straight up kill them to defend Earth. But on the flip side, these vicious versions of Mark who knew you as that stoic hero now seeing you powerless and vulnerable and scared and so, so easily hurt.

Some of them can't help but immediately freeze up at the sight of you and stare, unable to look away as they process that, yeah, that's really who they think it is. Some of them start crying and beeline for you immediately. Some of them just start freaking out and all but hyperventilating, "holy shit is this for real?! Am I dreaming right now?! Is that really you?!"

Can you imagine one of them grabbing you and saying some WILD shit like, "oh my god, I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to kill you, you just kept screaming and crying and i-i freaked out and I didn't realize I was squeezing so hard, I didn't mean to snap your neck, I promise it'll NEVER happen again" like genuinely that shit would make me u-turn right the fuck out of that battle and have Mark and Cecil or whomever the fuck get to fight this crazed psycho who looks and sounds exactly like your good friend, but let's be real, the second you try to run you would have EVERY version of Mark immediately after your ass

Picture this: one of the evil Marks is so genuinely euphoric to see you again that he rushes up to you and hugs you so tightly it cracks one of your ribs and makes you cry out in pain. Suddenly he's jerking back, his face cycling through several emotions. He's still holding on to a wrist or your shoulders and he and any other Marks present suddenly realize, oh fuck you don't have any powers? Like imagine trying to pull yourself away with all of your strength and they can all tell it's doing absolutely nothing as the one holding you just murmurs, "wait, why are you so weak...?" with obvious fear and concern trickling into his voice

All of them instantly detouring their plans to start fighting over you. Another Mark knocks out the teeth of the one who just cracked your ribs. A Mark whose entire goal was to use Angstrom to find another you completely unable to stop himself from scooping you up off your feet, promising he's going to tell you somewhere safe and about to fly away with you before getting suckerpunched by another Mark with the exact same idea. One Mark flying up. "Oh sorry, this was your little date-night buddy? They were my SPOUSE"

On the flip side, you being a viltrumite hybrid yourself or some other mutant or superpowered individual that they're completely unused to and the ones who lust for battle getting the biggest adrenaline/endorphin rush of their lives as you're actually strong enough to knock them around. More masochistic Marks all but having their eyes roll back into their heads as you punch or kick or throw them. You being so strong that it takes at least 2 or 3 of them to completely pin you down

Something something "evil Marks having to team up to take you down and once you're finally subdued and are pinned down and helpless they basically run a train on you in the middle of the rubble of a burning city" something something

The good guys and you and your friends managing to win and drive the variants away and kill Angstrom and you ultimately find out "your" Mark is just as equally obsessive and mentally unstable as all the rest and he was just the best one at hiding it. He was happy juat pretending to be your "platonic friend" and looking after you but he was intending to play 4d chess and work his way into your heart. Now that your life and safety were threatened, it finally triggers him to drop off the deep end and start making more drastic moves. Ok, so Cecil wants him to work for the government again and lead the Guardians huh? Maybe he'll consider accepting IF the GDA helps him contain you and keep you safe and healthy. Maybe he'll consider IF Cecil basically signs off on you being a captive of Mark's that the government turns a blind eye to as long as he protects the planet. Maybe you try and fly away and find out YOU have a thingy in YOUR head and Cecil basically knocks you out of the sky because damn it, he's not going to let another however many millions of people die just so you can stay single, let alone risk finding out what Mark is going to do now that he's starting to lose it

Whether you're a human or a hero, you'll be fucked either way

#yandere invicible #yandere mark grayson #yandere x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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wroetolando · 3 months ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚛 | 𝙻𝙽𝟺

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where lando finds a hornet mid-stream, panics, and calls you to save him—only to realize there are two

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: help! - the beatles

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: language

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The first sign that something was wrong came in the form of Lando’s sudden silence.

You had been sitting on the couch, lazily scrolling through your phone while his stream played in the background. His usual stream banter filled the apartment—occasional bursts of laughter, the sound of his wheel clicking as he drove, and random mutterings under his breath.

But then, out of nowhere, dead silence.

You frowned, glancing up from your phone. “Lando?”

A beat. Then—

“It’s bigger than a hornet,” Lando’s voice came, his tone filled with absolute terror. “It’s like a bird, man!”

Your head snapped up in time to see him pushing his chair back so violently it nearly tipped over. He was standing now, his headset still on but slightly lopsided, his wide eyes locked on something off-screen.

“Lando, what—”

Then he bolted.

You blinked.

The chat exploded on his screen. Messages flew in at lightning speed, all variations of:

WHAT IS HAPPENING??

LANDO ARE YOU OKAY??

“LIKE A BIRD”??????

And then he screamed.

Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver, a man who routinely threw himself into high-speed battles at over 200 mph, screamed at a pitch so high that you were sure dogs were perking up in confusion across the neighborhood.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, standing up to investigate.

By the time you entered his streaming room, you were met with the sight of pure chaos. Lando had somehow acquired the vacuum cleaner, wielding it like an ancient warrior preparing for battle. The nozzle was raised toward the ceiling, trembling slightly in his grip.

“Ooh, it’s moving! It resists!” he yelped, his voice cracking.

You followed his gaze and finally spotted the enemy—a single, admittedly large, hornet clinging to the ceiling.

You bit your lip, trying desperately not to laugh. “Lando, are you—”

“Oh, she’s too big!” Lando shrieked, his hand tightening around the vacuum like it was a lifeline. “What the fuck! It’s resisting the Hoover! It’s just—oh my god, it’s looking at me! IT’S LOOKING AT ME!”

That was it. You lost it.

Doubling over, you laughed so hard that tears pricked at your eyes.

Lando, however, did not find the situation nearly as funny.

He turned to glare at you, betrayal written all over his face. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, Y/N!”

You struggled to catch your breath. “I—I’m sorry, I just—”

“NO, BECAUSE LOOK AT IT!”

You did. The hornet, completely unfazed, was just chilling on the ceiling, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with the screaming human below.

“I swear it’s planning an attack,” Lando muttered.

You wiped at your eyes, still chuckling. “You’re actually ridiculous.”

Before he could retort, the hornet suddenly twitched.

Lando screamed.

It was loud. It was dramatic. And it was followed immediately by the loud thud of the vacuum hitting the ground as he scrambled away.

“Fuck. Oh—oh my god, I’m SCARED!”

The chat was going insane. You could see messages popping up on his second monitor.

LANDO THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN

THE WAY HE THREW THE HOOVER LMAOOOO

SOMEONE PLEASE CLIP THIS

Lando, oblivious to the internet roasting him in real time, now had a shoe in his hand. He looked at you, wild-eyed.

“This is it,” he muttered. “I’m going in.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“No. But I have no choice.”

And with that, he launched the shoe at the hornet with the kind of determination that should’ve guaranteed success.

It didn’t.

The shoe missed entirely.

And then—because the universe apparently had a sick sense of humor—another hornet appeared.

Lando froze.

His voice dropped into a whisper. “There’s two.”

You blinked. “What?”

His hands trembled.

“There’s TWO.”

A pause.

Then, absolute pandemonium.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

Lando sprinted across the room, tripping over the fallen vacuum in his haste. You barely had time to register his sheer level of panic before—

“There’s TWOOOOOOOOOOO.”

His voice cracked violently, sending you into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. You had never seen him this distressed before.

“I TOLD YOU!” he wailed. “I TOLD YOU!”

At this point, he had climbed onto his gaming chair like it was a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean.

“Alright, alright, I’ll handle it,” you said, still laughing.

“No—Y/N, don’t! You can’t just—”

You ignored him, grabbing a rolled-up magazine and stepping forward. Lando let out a strangled noise of protest, but he was too frozen in fear to physically stop you.

With one swift motion, you swatted at the first hornet. It immediately darted toward the open window and disappeared.

One down.

Lando let out a small, hopeful gasp.

You turned to the second one, waiting for it to settle. Then, just as it landed, you struck again.

It was over in seconds.

Silence filled the room.

Lando stared at you in awe. “…You’re actually insane.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the magazine onto the desk. “You’re welcome.”

Without warning, Lando lunged at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding on for dear life.

“You saved me,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder. “You’re my hero.”

You laughed, patting his back. “I hope you know the internet is never going to let you live this down.”

He groaned. “I already know. I’m gonna be seeing this for the next five years.”

You pulled back slightly, tilting your head. “You do realize that if you’d just let me handle it earlier, you wouldn’t have just humiliated yourself in front of thousands of people?”

Lando frowned, his lips pursing in thought. Then, with all the wisdom in the world, he said, “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

You smacked his arm.

He grinned.

The chat was still exploding. Clips were already being shared. Memes were being made in real-time.

And you?

You couldn’t wait to watch them.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

#f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #mclaren f1 #ln4 #lando norris x you #f1 x you #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 mcl #lando norris fic #wroetolando

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solmire · 1 month ago

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Author's note: this scene takes a place before car accident.

deaf!gojo masterlist full mlist

So loud.

A Cacophony of mind-blowing noises.

Everything around Gojo is clicking, clacking. Someone’s voice bounces off the walls, creating the feeling of drowning in his head. A common cafeteria of one of the best universities in Japan.

‘Oh gosh, life would be better if I were deaf.’ Only the thought of not being able to hear anything and living in peace calms his overstimulated mind, returning him to the letter in his hands - with the little hearts and “To: Satoru” on the bottom right corner.

“The same handwriting… Unfortunately, no sweet treats this time.” Satoru disappointedly mumbles under his breath. He is about to open the letter when someone suddenly slams a designer bag down in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Gojo?! What did I tell you?!” Pretty girl’s face was grimacing with anger and disapproval toward the guy in front of her. “Why do I always need to wait for you to be done?! Son of a bitch!”

At this moment, the headache has become a constant. Nothing could beat Amaya’s tantrums and hysterics - always screaming like her life depends on the volume of her voice. Even the fall of aluminum dishes on the tile won’t win the battle against her high-pitch screams.

“Oh god, you know, society would work better if you changed your major from linguistics to being a megaphone. You need to consider this idea!” Despite growing migraine, he doesn’t let his guard go down, always fast with his cheeky remark.

“I hate you! What the fuck are you holding?!” Amaya instantly forgets the reason for her tantrum, attention fully shifted to the letter in Gojo’s hands. “Again these stupid letters?! These bitches are so pathetic! Give it to me!”

He doesn’t have time to react, as the letter is already in her hands and in the shortest possible seconds she tears it to pieces.

“I am done with you, Gojo! Sukuna will take me there if you are so scared to drive a car, mama’s boy.” She turns around on her high louboutins and storms out of the cafeteria.

“Amaya, wait. I told you that my fear didn’t come out of nowhere. Something is wrong with my car-” He is trying to reach for her, leaving the cafeteria.

You were sitting two tables behind him, waiting for the moment when he finds out about you. You’d poured your heart into this letter a few days ago, thinking it’s the right way to confess.

You slowly approach the table where Satoru had been just minutes ago. Pieces of your love are lying around, you are squatting down to take a look. One of the nearest was with your name on it.

That day you left the cafeteria with that torn piece of your love and a new note in your diary.

‘Loving deeply is my gift not my curse. There is the possibility of never being the one who is loved, at least, I know that my love is pure, that’s all I need.’

Taglist: @someonenamedray @totallyuniquenut @not-aya @pinacoladagod @lumilarity @rh-tg1 @luv3nti @thequeenofcurses @arrozyfrijoles23 @hel1nn @luna-v-roiya @p1nkfl0wers @iwriteforlove @gloomysel

#deaf!gojo #divider by cafekitsune #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru gojo x reader

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chaoticwriting · 4 months ago

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GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 6

Part 5

The world falls into a silent panic for a moment. Unrest around the world as they watch the UN heavily admonish the US for their terrible handling of the situation. After all, this is the first time that a supervillain is born because of the government. At least publicly.

The GIW meanwhile has fallen into higher levels of panic as their bases around the world start to disappear one by one.

Meanwhile

-Watchtower-

John : Fucking blimey mate! Why in the nine hells did you mess with him?

2 days after the incident with the Trickster, Batman receives an emergency meeting alert from the Watchtower. When he arrives, he sees John Constantine is the one handling the meeting. The self claimed Justice League contractee is usually very aversed to attending any of the Justice League meetings, so it is quite a surprise for not just Batman but most of them.

When he enters the meeting room, he is greeted by the sight of Constantine screaming and scolding the Justice League while their focus are on a file that he assume get prepared by him. On the screen is an image of a boy with pale skin and silver white hair. He is wearing a black and white hazmat suit. It takes a moment for Batman to recognise that the boy is Trickster. Batman's gut twist when he remembers the boy. To be honest, Batman isn't really bothered with the boy shenanigans. At most, he steals some money and equipment for his livestreams, but those stuffs are usually stolen from his company.

No one has ever truly been hurt by him, but the last time is the only time he has ever deliberately hurt someone. Just as his mind is about to spiral more out of control, John suddenly turns his head towards him.

John: YOU! Do you fucking know in how much dipshit we are? Why are you just standing there? Fucking do something!

Oliver: I understand he is supposed to be dangerous, but why are you so worried? Even when we are fighting Darkseid, you are still calm.

John: READ. THE. FUCKING. FILE. That's why I'm fucking scared. Depending on how pissed he is, even if I escape to another universe, I am still fucked.

Batman watches as the others continue reading a fairly thick file and start reading his. At first, it is usual. Name, supposed age, relatives, and alignment. Surprisingly, it is neutral good. (Why is his age 4?). When Batman turns the page, he understands why his colleagues are frowning at the information.

His battle records are what you would call amazing. At 1 year old, he is already fighting against gods, demons, and magicians. The spirit of technology, Halloween, dreams, plants, and even time. Each one of the people that he fights is someone or something that can be classified as League level threats. The terrifying things about it are that not only did he win the fight, he even befriended them by the way that he is seen having a cooperative relationship, at least with some of them.

Closing the thick file, Batman's minds start to work as he thinks about contingency plans about each of them. There are some weaknesses recorded in the file, including ectoweapon, blood blossom, and magic. However, the record also says that the stronger the ghost or ecto being, the less effective those things are against them. And assuming from how strong Trickster is now, he probably needs a stronger weapon.

Superman also frowns as he reads the file. He for one has come into contact with Phantom, or Trickster as he likes to be called now. His impression of the kid is a mischievous kid that just likes to have fun. He has seen some of his 'pranks' before this and in his experience, all of them have one thing in common. That is they all have a heavily controlled environment.

Although some of his pranks look like they are really easy to go wrong, Superman can see how the machines are heavily secured and any of the victims are all heavily guarded.

Even the victims are almost specifically chosen because none of the victims that experience the pranks have any chance of harming either their health, financial or social life. All of his victims are all healthy people with some free time that they don't have anything to spend on.

That's why even Batman is rather light handed with the kid. Even though he commits occasional theft, none of them are serious ones except the glitter theft. Most of them generally agreed that if the kid ever wants to be a hero, they would gladly mentor him.

Suddenly, Barry enters the room running while looking panic.

Barry: Guys! Open the news. Lex is crazy!

Superman frowns and opens the hologram in the middle of the table and a news channel appears on the screen. Lex is currently on the podium, giving a speech as the president of USA.

Lex: And I would never negotiate with a terrorist that dares to threaten the government using its own people. All the GIW members are people with honor, bravery and kindness in them that they dare to put their life on the line to fight against this beast that imitates our dead loved one and use their name for doing terri-*Screeeechhhh*

A loud screech interrupts Lex's speech as suddenly a green portal appears above the square and a figure comes out of it. A teenager with blue skin, crystalized silver hair and claws made out of ice appears from the other side of the portal. He looks at the figures below and slowly raises his hand as Lex begins to float towards the boy.

The Justice League suddenly realizes who the boy is. It's Phantom. But why does he look different? Unfortunately, they don't get the opportunity to ponder over it as Phantom starts to speak.

Phantom: YOU DARE INSULT MY PEOPLE!

@zcatmama

Part 7

#danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #justice league #batman

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lxvebun · 3 months ago

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Another sleepy drabble. Ideas just come to me when I am eepy it seems.

Content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gender neutral reader. Fluff..crack perhaps. Offputting strange simon representation🫶 he's still a sweetheart dw!!. Not proofread! Lmk if there are any annoying mistakes!♡

Dating Simon, you're going to have to get used to some of his... peculiar tendencies.

First off, Simon has a bit of a staring problem.

He doesn’t do it on purpose, and he could make up a dozen excuses for why he does it—Natural selection of the mind, making sure you’re safe, keeping an eye on you—but it really just boils down to the fact that he likes looking at you. You’re his sweetheart, his precious angel and looking at you while you do your own thing, draped in comfy clothes most likely stolen from his closet, humming a song thats stuck in your head creates this sickeningly sweet, lovesick feeling that curls around his heart and makes it beat just a little warmer and makes him feel just little safer

His expression is always loving, eyes soft and brimming with adoration when you meet his gaze, but the problem is, you constantly feel like you're being watched. The slightest shift in movement from where you're sitting on the other side of the couch draws his eyes from the TV to you. Every time you get up to go to the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom—whatever—his eyes snap towards you in an instant. And Simon's gaze is heavy, loving, but heavy and it's even worse when you can feel his eyes on you, but you don't know where he is. Which brings us to the second "problem" the constant battle of trying to convince your body while it's in its flight or fight mode that no, that’s not some sort of wild predator lurking in the shadows and stalking out it's prey. It’s just your boyfie and his unsettling ability to blend in with his surroundings🫶

You quickly realize why they call him Ghost.

For such a big guy, Simon moves incredibly quietly. His footsteps are nearly nonexistent, the only sound being the occasional creak of the floorboards as he moves through the house or a sudden thud from around the corner.

(You're honestly convinced that if you put Simon in an old empty house it now qualifies as "haunted")

He’s quiet, and he has this tendency to loom, always hovering just on the edge of your awareness. A shadow in the corner of your eye. His movements are so subtle, they feel like the softest ripple across a pond, barely enough to disturb the surface.

It doesn't necessarily scare you, you know it's just Simon but there are certain times when he does this that do give you a bit of a jumpscare.

It happens most often at night, in the bathroom when you're gently easing yourself into your night routine, movements slow and laced with sleep as you wash your face. you know he's there, you know he's near, but still, suddenly seeing his reflection in the mirror, standing behind you as if he just appeared from the shadows- your heart jumps into your throat.

“Simon…” you whine, hand splayed across your chest to calm the rapid beating of your heart "You scared me."

"Sorry, love," he rumbles, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Force of habit."

Sometimes you wonder if you'll ever fully get used to it. Then again, you don't really mind it. Even if this comes across as strange to some, you like having someone who looks at you like you're the center of his universe, even if that means constantly feeling his eyes on you, following your every movement. And maybe, one day, you’ll stop jumping out of your skin every time he appears out of nowhere. But until then, you'll just keep telling yourself that yeah, he can be a little odd but it's Simon, your Simon and you wouldn't change a thing about him.

#simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod fluff #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon riley fluff

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slutoru1207 · 3 months ago

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Variant!Invincible x Variant!Reader funny imagine

haha i had fun writing this

The battlefield was pure chaos. The Invincible War had brought together versions of Mark from across the multiverse, and now? Now there were also multiple versions of you.

And it was absolute insanity.

One Mark—dressed in a sleek black and red suit—landed beside the original Mark, wiping blood off his face. "Okay, not gonna lie, I was not expecting this many versions of your girlfriend."

"Tell me about it," Mark groaned, dodging a stray blast. "They’ve been all over me for weeks!"

"Sounds like a dream."

"It’s not!"

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, your variants had found their Marks.

"Hey there, handsome," one of you cooed, sidling up to a Mark with a scar over his eye and a much darker aura. "You look dangerous. I like that."

Scarred Mark raised a brow. "And you don’t look scared of me."

You smirked. "Why would I be? I’ve got a thing for bad boys."

Somewhere else, a more unhinged Mark—eyes burning with bloodlust—was being held back by two versions of you, both giggling. "Aww, you’re cute when you’re trying to kill people."

"Let. Me. Go," he snarled.

One of you poked his cheek. "Nah, you’re kinda fun to mess with."

Back with the original Mark, he turned just in time to see three versions of you hanging off different versions of himself. One had her arms draped around a Mark with a robotic arm, whispering in his ear. Another was poking at a Mark with white streaks in his hair, teasing him about how cool he looked.

And the worst? One of you had cozied up to a Mark in a full Viltrumite uniform—the kind that screamed evil overlord.

"So," she purred, tracing a finger down his chest. "Conquering planets, huh? That’s hot."

The Viltrumite Mark smirked. "You’re intriguing."

Original Mark nearly had a stroke. "ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH A VILTRUMITE?!"

Your variant shrugged. "I mean, yeah. Have you seen him?"

Mark groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t deal with this. I can’t."

Meanwhile, the Guardians of the Globe watched the multiversal madness unfold, completely dumbfounded.

"Dude," Rex whispered, eyes wide. "I don’t know whether to be jealous or terrified."

Dupli-Kate sighed. "Both. Be both."

As the battle raged on, it became very clear that the variants—both of Mark and you—were a force to be reckoned with. Some worked together perfectly, back-to-back in combat, protecting each other without hesitation. Others? Well…

"Babe, heads up!" One of you flung a chunk of debris toward a Mark locked in combat.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t her Mark.

"THAT'S NOT MY MARK!" the original you shrieked as the wrong Mark got flattened.

"Oops."

Mark groaned. "I hate this war."

Suddenly, a new portal ripped open in the sky, and out came even more Marks and Readers, their outfits and battle stances making it very clear they had been fighting in their own universes. One Reader stepped forward, looking around with a smirk. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

One Mark, wearing an old, tattered cape, scoffed. "Oh great. More of you."

Another Mark, who looked far too comfortable covered in way too much blood, tilted his head at one of your variants. "I know you."

She grinned. "Yeah, you killed my Mark. Wanna make it up to me?"

Even Original Mark had to do a double take. "WHAT?!"

The battlefield somehow became even worse. One of your variants challenged a Viltrumite Mark to a sparring match, another was actively helping a villain Mark take down a Guardian, and one had somehow convinced a half-robotic Mark to carry her bridal style mid-battle.

"She actually pulled it off," one of your other selves whistled, watching in awe. "Respect."

At this point, even the universe itself seemed exhausted by the sheer amount of chaos. But through it all, one thing remained the same.

It was chaos. It was madness. And, somehow, it was the most entertaining thing that had ever happened in the multiverse.

Because, at the end of the day, no matter what universe they came from—

Marks were Marks.

And Readers? Readers would always drive them insane.

#mark x reader #invincible comic #invincible season 3 #mark grayson invincible #invincible fanfic #mark x you #invincible smut #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #invincible x you

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godmadeaterribleerror · 3 months ago

Text

In Sweetness

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Preparation for hunts and battles where the fate of the world hinges on his shoulders are easy. Preparation for a baby might be the most complex thing Dean's ever done.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! Apparently this is a series now, and I am more than okay with that. Same universe as Still You Want Me and Every Day That You Want, but can be read in isolation. Enjoy!

Title from Robin by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 3.4k

“Why are there so many damn colors.”

“Color is a result of visual reception of the electromagnetic spectrum.” Cas shrugged, continuing to sort through the paint samplers as he spoke. “As a human, you, Dean, can only perceive a fraction of the actual colors available to the universe, and what you are seeing now is overall not that many. Though I am quite glad you are able to see purple, as it is one of the better ones-“

“Dude.” Dean grunted, raising his brows as Cas looked at him with a frown.

“Your question was…” Cas tilted his head, his words cautious and slow. “Rhetorical.”

“Yeah. It was.” Dean frowned at the piles of allegedly organized paints samplers. “Why’d you put so many yellows in the green pile.”

Cas shook his head. “That is not the green pile. It is, well, there is no name for it in any human language, but it is a color that is associated with fertility in the community of mantis shrimp-“

“You wanna paint my kids room a shrimp fertility color-“

“No, I am leaving that up to the boss.” Cas shrugged, and placed a light red in with the blues. “I personally find it to be a very relaxing color, but it is not my call to make.”

Dean almost pointed out that it was his call—his kid, no shrimp colors—but Cas had called Her the boss for a reason.

She grew the baby. She had better opinions than Dean did. Her wrath scared Cas more than the wrath of literal God.

It would be Her call.

“Can you, I dunno, man, can we try to sort them in human colors?” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don’t think she’s gonna know the difference between these two yellow piles-“

Cas frowned. “They are not yellows, Dean. One of them contained ultraviolet, the other does not.”

“Awesome.” Dean muttered Her name, glancing around the half-cleaned room. “She’s- shit, she’s not gonna be happy-“

“I think she will be.” Cas shrugged. “Her endorphin levels always increase by a rate of 400% in your presence, 500% if you are taking care of yourself.”

“Taking care-“

“Your hair is washed, you are not drinking, and you look well. That will be pleasing to her.”

Dean felt himself stand a little taller, even as he shook his head. “Well, my hair or not, we needed to have this cleaned by the time they got back. I was supposed to have done it last week, but the hunt-“

“She was not happy about the hunt.” Cas nodded, still sorting the pain samplers. “It amazes me you made it out of that alive.”

“I was only a stab wound, Cas, I’ve had-“

Cas said Her name, giving Dean a pointed look. “I was referring to her.”

Dean swallowed, and Cas was right. The only reason he had made it out alive was because that had been his last hunt before the baby was due.

But he hadn’t cleaned the room.

He still hadn’t cleaned the goddamn room.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean rubbed at his face, staring around bunker-room that should have been neatly scrubbed and wiped hours ago. “She’s gonna kill me. Stab me. Mutilate me so my daughter screams when she sees my face-“

Cas gave him an odd look. “You believe it will be a daughter?”

“I- uh,” Dean paused, and he didn’t know why he’d said that. They’d agreed not to check, no matter how many times Cas offered.

As long as it’s healthy. She’d repeat, over and over, and Dean knew why. She was still having nightmares where demons or angels came and stole the kid. Where a new monster would pop out of the earth, and everything would catch up to them, and they’d lose their shot at this before it even really happened.

He’d hold Her when she’d wake up screaming, and do whatever he had to for Her to breathe evenly and fall back asleep. Sam said She needed to sleep more for the baby, and every time she’d gasp his name like She wasn’t sure he was there, Dean’s heart would shatter a little, so he’d do anything. He’d give massages—he was getting better at them, too—and make tea and watch whatever show she wanted to in order to bring her back to earth. In order to get Her to stop scratching at his arms, as if She was trying to carve grooves into Dean that she’d be able to latch onto. To keep him alive and next to Her at all times.

Dean would always be alive and next to Her. He had no plans of going anywhere, of being anything but there for Her and the baby. And She knew that—he told Her every single night, and morning, and most afternoons—but it still took effort to get Her out of the bunker. Into the real world, without wards and anti-monster security. Sam had needed to arm himself like he was headed to war instead of the grocery store, just so She’d agree to go with him.

And Dean and Cas were supposed to have finished cleaning by the time She got back. If they didn’t, She’d try to do it herself, and it would take all three of them to stop Her. She could barely bend over, let alone paint the walls and pick up the trash and-

“I can paint everything now,” Cas said, nodding to the walls as Dean blinked at him. “If we would like to save the time.”

“Let’s wait ’till we got a color,” Dean muttered, glancing out the door to empty hall, trying to listen for the sound of Baby’s engine in the garage. They should be back soon. They should’ve been back by now, and She was fine because She had to be, but Dean knew his gut wouldn’t stop twisting until he saw Her. Beautiful and right in front of him and safe. “Cas, you think you can take care of-“

The was a soft whooshing sound, and when Dean looked back to the room, it was perfectly clean.

“That is was you were requesting, correct?” Cas said, gesturing to the room around them. “If not, I can return it to the previous state-“

“No, don’t-“ Dean cut himself off as a low, muffled rumble echoed through the hall, and there it was. The sign that everything was fine. “Keep it. Thanks, man.”

Cas nodded, glancing to the perfectly sorted paint pile. “I took your suggestion and sorted them by human color receptors. Although there are more of the cards than I originally anticipated-“

“She used to collect them or something.” Dean grunted, and grabbed a pastel blue that he was ready to throw his weight behind. It was soft. Nice. Like the sky. “Once we got a color, if you could aim that angel mojo on the walls-“

Cas nodded, opened his mouth, and was cut off by a shout of Her voice as a door slammed.

“Dean!” She was half screaming, and Dean wasn’t worried about their safety. Sammy would’ve called them if something was wrong.

He was worried about Her running. Last time She done that, Sam had gotten body slammed into a wall.

Almost on cue, Sammy’s voice shouted Her name. “Slow down-“

“Suck my dick, Sam- Dean-“

“In the nursery!” He raised his voice to carry over Her’s, half-jogging out of the room to meet Her, only to catch Her barreling right into him like a freight train, knocking half the air out of his lungs as She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Shit-“

“Are you okay?” She leaned back and took Dean’s face between Her hands, turning it at a million angles to check for harm. “I’m sorry we’re late, Sam took a fucking hour in the produce section-“

“I was getting food for you.” Sam muttered, almost materializing behind Her. “You’re the one who said you wanted to eat healthier-“

“Not now.” She snapped, not looking away from Her examination. “After the little demon inside of me comes out, the one made of your stupid brother, who only wants ice cream and bacon-“

Dean grinned, unable to find himself bothered by the stupid brother comment when She was still half-hanging off his body, and let his hand glide to rest on her stomach as She continued to yell at Sam.

“I wanted to get home, we need to clean the nursery and there’s so much trash in this bunker, and painting is going to take days and I need to start working on the decorations, I can’t waste time buying lettuce-“

“Sweetheart.” Dean caught Her hands, lowering them with a kiss of Her knuckles as her eyes softened slightly. “Deep breaths.”

She took a slightly shaky inhale, still narrowing Her eyes at him. “Don’t tell me what to do-“

“I know.” He grinned at Her, and her own glower wavered slightly. “Got a surprise for you.”

“Uh oh.” Sam’s voice was not nearly low enough for Dean to miss it, and he rolled his eyes.

“Shut it, Sammy, she’s gonna like it.”

Sam shrugged. “Just saying, didn’t your last surprise end in someone getting punched-“

“Yeah, Sasquatch, you-“

“Dean.” She whispered, squeezing his hands and drawing his attention back to Her open, nervous expression. “Is everything oka-“

“Everything is perfect, baby.” He let his grin return in full force, tugging Her a little closer and guiding Her into the work-in-progress nursery. “Cas did something for ‘ya, and we got plans to-

She cut Dean off with a loud, breathy gasp as they moved back through the door, Her eyes scanning over the perfectly empty and polished room.

“I have not painted the walls yet.” Cas said, watching Her carefully from the center of the room. “We believed that it would be best to allow you to choose the color-“

“Color?” She blinked back to Dean, and he nodded to the paint samples.

“Sorted all of them,” he muttered, pulling out the blue shade from his jeans. “But I liked this one-“

She nodded, not even looking to the pile. “Then we’ll do that one. Cas, can you please-“

Another whoosh, the walls were perfectly blue, and Dean stumbled back as She shoved away from him, half flying across the room to pull Cas into a hug. He returned it, shooting Dean a slightly worried look over Her head, and Dean only shrugged. He’d long learned not to question Her reactions. And he’d learned it the harder way than a hug.

Cas said Her name cautiously. “Are you experience any sadness or trepidation at my interference-“

She shook Her head, and Dean knew that if Cas had to worry about things like breathing, he’d be suffocating in Her grip.

“Then I assume these are tears of joy-“

“Yeah,” She mumbled, taking a step back, and the smile on Her face could move Dean to wage a war against the goddamn moon. “Thank you, Cas. I- this has been a lot, and I love Dean but he can be so slow-“

Dean frowned. “Hey-“

“Sorry.” She gave him a sweet, soft smile over Her shoulder, and any annoyance he’d had vanished into the air. She was smiling at him like that—with the smile no one else got to see—and there was light shining in Her eyes that he was pretty sure only ever existed for him, so he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

“’S fine.” He muttered, holding out his hand and sitting in the glow that settled in his body when She moved without thought to take it. “We got some shopping to do, Sweetheart, but I can scout ahead while you rest-“

She blinked at him. “Why would I rest?”

Dean glanced down to Her swollen stomach, then Her pouting face, and swallowed. “Uh- Any answer I got is gonna get my ass kicked, isn’t it-“

“Probably,” Her voice was bored and flat, and Sam snorted from somewhere behind them. “Just don’t say it, De. That’s an option.”

“Yeah- uh-“ He glanced to Cas, who was obviously making himself pointlessly busy with the paint samples. “You comin’ with me then?”

She hummed, tucking Herself into Dean’s side with another star-shaking smile. “Always.”

He couldn’t argue with that. There was no world where a little bit of Dean’s will didn’t melt into Her, become only Her’s to use as she pleased. If what made Her smile and relax was as simple as going with Dean to the city for baby shopping, he’d rip out his own throat before he denied Her. He would change the goddamn tides and move mountains to make Her happy. Driving in his car with Her at his side, his hand on Her thigh and their child—made of both of them, proof for Her to have that Dean loved Her, and wouldn’t leave, and would fight heaven and hell a million times over to give Her peace, right there in Her body—in Her stomach, was nothing.

“Do you think it’s too on the nose to ask Cas to be the godfather?” She asked, frowning at the road ahead of them, and Dean snorted.

“I think if you do that, you’re going to have to deal with him bringing us fruit from Asia every weekend and a real-life zoo in the bunker when the kid start to learn about animals.”

She hummed, turning Dean’s hand over and tracing the lines of his palm with a small smile. “So he’s perfect.”

“Damn right.” Dean folded his fingers through Her’s, tugging them up to press a kiss to the back of Her hand. “If you think that’s what we want, sweetheart, that’s what we’re doing.”

She giggled, even as She rolled her eyes. “Did he try to get you in on the shrimp fertility colors while I was out?”

“Yeah, how’d you-“

“He got me a baby blanket with it. Apparently, it will bring hi- The baby good health.”

Dean shot Her an amused look. “Him, huh? What happened to no reveal-“

“Shut up.” She mumbled, shifting in Her seat. “It’s just a theory, the little fuck kicks me too much to be a girl-“

Dean snorted. “You kick people more than anyone I know-“

“And I have my shrimp fertility blanket.” She said, ignoring Dean entirely. “He’ll be healthy. His godfather is an angel.”

“So we’re asking Cas then?”

“We don’t have any other friends, Dean.”

He grinned at Her. “I dunno, Rowena would train her real well-“

She slapped him on the arm. “I am not letting my child visit hell-“

“She could come to us-“

“This isn’t as funny a bit as you think it is, Winchester-“ She cut Herself off, and Dean could feel Her scanning over his face. “Did you say her? You think we’re having a girl?”

Dean shrugged, keeping his attention fixed on the road. “Don’t know what your-“

“Dean.”

He glanced at Her—gentle expression, brows raised and sweet smile—and let out a long breath. “Yeah. I got- Uh, it’s just a feelin’. Could be nice to have a girl. You know, Sammy could braid her hair.”

She snorted, scooting closer to his side on the bench. “If we have a girl, you’re braiding her hair. But we’re having a boy.”

Dean grinned down at Her, wrapping his arm around Her shoulders as they turned into the parking lot. “You wanna place a bet on it-“

“No. Do you have the list?”

“Course I got the list. It’s really-“ Dean shook his head, stopping the Impala near the front of the building. No need to make Her walk further than a few yards. “Sweetheart, there’s no way we need all the shit you put on that thing-“

She sighed, shaking Her head. “It’s a whole, brand new person, Dean. We’ll probably need more.”

He thought about protesting, but that couldn’t be his biggest concern right now. His priority was Her. Getting Her whatever she needed, even if it was dumb. Even if half this stuff could be found in a garage sale, or the depths of the bunker, or given to them by Cas with only a request, She wanted to do the whole shopping thing, so they’d do the shopping thing.

He’d grab a big cart and follow Her around the department store, giving half-opinions when asked and watching Her walk with a wide grin, She’d gotten the pregnancy waddle, and he’d never seen anything more adorable in his life. She was freakin’ glowing. Lit up from within and happy. And he’d done that. Dean was the cause of Her joy and comfort, and he’d do a million more pregnancy tasks if it kept that smile on Her face, that comfort settled deep in Her body where he could practically see it.

“Dinosaurs or bears?” She asked, sorting through the onesies with an expression like she was choosing a gun for a hunt. “I- Maybe we should go lions-“

Dean muttered Her name, kissing the side of Her head and wrapping an arm around Her body. “She’s not gonna know the difference, it’s whatever you want-“

“No, babies are smarter than you think, as he develops pattern recognition it’ll influence his like and dislikes-“

“You gotta stop watching those documentaries, sweetheart-“

“And he’ll be more interested in dinosaurs or bear- lions. It should be lions-“

Dean turned Her to fully face him, holding Her wide eyes, almost franticly gorgeous face between his hands and cutting Her off with a kiss.

“You’re callin’ it a boy again,” he murmured against Her lips, and She out a happy little sigh as he traced his thumb over Her cheekbone. “I still think we should do that bet.”

She shook Her head. “I- I’m sorry-“

“Nothin’ to be sorry about. But you’re still real damn wrong. It’s a girl.”

“Shut up.” She mumbled, but still dropped Her head to Dean’s shoulder when he drew back, and he grinned into the air as any weight that had ever existed over his chest was lifted. Dissipated into nothing as Her fingers curled into his shirt. “We don’t have anything to bet, De, we share everything-“

“We could be naming rights?” He rubbed his hand over Her shoulder, swaying her back and forth slightly in his arms. “I get to choose the name if it’s a girl, all on you if it’s a boy?”

There was a brief moment of silence, Her words still muffled in Dean’s body when she spoke. “You can’t name them something stupid.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss on the top of Her head. “I’d never even think about it, sweetheart. No jokes here.”

“Uh huh.” She leaned back to meet him in a full, long, slightly sloppy kiss that sparked warmth through his body, before pulling back with a gentle grin, “I’ll make the deal if you actually help with this. Dinosaurs or lions, Winchester, pick one-“

“That’s easy, baby.” He shot Her a wink, leaning over her body to grab a onesie and toss it into the cart. “We’re going cars.”

She pulled away, picking up the onesies and turning it over, and gave a small nod. The smile was back.

Dean had never felt more fucking alive.

“Alright.” She said, holding out Her hand with a wide, easy smile. “But when he’s a boy, I’m naming him Fred and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Do you think they sell baby ascots?” She scanned around the store with mock interest. “I think Fred will look cute in one-“

Dean scoffed, and before he could shut Her up with another kiss that would turn Her into a breathless, happy mess, and She looked back to him with a smile.

“Just like his dad.” She hummed, hooking their arms together, and kissing the underside of Dean’s jaw with a smile he could feel, fluttering in his heart and making the world spin a little slower.

“You can be a real ass, sweetheart.” He muttered, and She giggled again. He could get high off the sound.

“Only for you, Winchester. Do you think we can find a little Scooby stuffie for him?”

“Baby,” Dean grinned at Her, starting to move them further down the aisle once more. “If I can’t, you’re gonna need to shoot me.”

She rolled Her eyes, running Her hand over her stomach as she tucked herself under his arm. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Only for my girls.” He echoed, shooting Her a wink. “You’re placing a losing bet, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see,” She shrugged, smiling into nothing. Just because She was happy. Because Dean was making Her happy, and everything really was going to be fine. “As long as he’s healthy.”

“She’ll be healthy,” he hummed. “She’s got her shrimp blanket.”

End Note: Cas and his shrimp blanket bring me good health. Amen.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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creamecafe · 5 months ago

Note

Hi there! Can you do a continuation of platonic squid game where the teen reader dies during the game, Like slowly dies as she calls out to character like (ahjussi, apparently, or unnie..)

Season 2 Squid Game Characters with Teen!Reader who dies in one of the games

Pairing: Platonic!Squid Game Characters x Teen!Reader

Warnings: death, angst, guilt

Author's Note: it's so HARD to find season 2 gifs for this. But thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Seong Gi-Hun

It feels like the universe is punishing him

He lost so many people before, he thought he was numb to tears

He cries and falls to the floor not caring who's around

Tries to keep strong to finish the game but feels like he shouldn't be alive

Young-il

I believe honestly that he would still keep the cold look but he'll cry when he's in the dormitory

He'll have a "talk" with the guard that killed you

Tries to ignore his feelings of grief but it's distracting him from the game

Thanos (Player 230)

Tries to keep his chill persona like Young-il

But when he's in the bathroom he'll be crying

He didn't expect to be attached but it was too late

Would snap if anyone brought up your name

Kang Dae-Ho

Would feel like he failed protecting you

Your face of your last moments would haunt him

During the battle against the guards he would keep thinking of you and your lifeless body

Lee Myung-Gi

Tries to deny it at first

But hearing your number be announced that you're eliminated is all too real

Your bed is empty and everything of you is now a memory

Between Jun-Hee and your death, he wants to change and turn things around

Park Min-Su

Is paralyzed when he sees your dead body or sees you get shot

Tries to hold it in, but is crying when he sleeps

You were the only thing close to being a real friend for him, besides Thanos

He chooses X, afraid what Thanos will do, but does it honor of you

Nam-Gyu

Doesn't show his emotions with the others, as he's afraid he'll be seen as weak.

But when everyone's asleep, he goes to your bed (Like how he did when Thanos died) and just cries

Wants to vote X, but is scared of Thanos so he chooses O

Jun-Hee

She finally has a real sense that this game is indeed cruel

Tries to keep strong but breaks down in the bathroom

Holds her stomach real close as she tries to think how she'll make it out of here, as you should have.

Cho Hyun Ju

If you die in the mingle game, guilt will overcome her

She presses X for you, most likely knowing she won't get out due to the majority of Os being voted

Your empty bed in the dormitory haunts her as she misses your laugh and your plans to get out

Se-Mi

Tries to keep her chill persona up

But seeing you die snapped something inside of her

She immediately thinks of Min-su and is afraid to lose him too

Votes X because of you, knowing that Thanos and Nam-gyu would hate her afterwards. But she doesn't care, all she misses is you

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

Text

Premature Internet Activists

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TOMORROW (Feb 14) in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and SATURDAY (Feb 15) for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

"Premature antifacist" was a sarcastic term used by leftists caught up in the Red Scare to describe themselves, as they came under ideological suspicion for having traveled to Spain to fight against Franco's fascists before the US entered WWII and declared war against the business-friendly, anticommunist fascist Axis powers of Italy, Spain, and, of course, Germany:

https://www.google.com/books/edition/In_Denial/fBSbKS1FlegC?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22premature+anti-fascist%22&pg=PA277&printsec=frontcover

The joke was that opposing fascism made you an enemy of America – unless you did so after the rest of America had woken up to the existential threat of a global fascist takeover. What's more, if you were a "premature antifascist," you got no credit for fighting fascism early on. Quite the contrary: fighting fascism before the rest of the US caught up with you didn't make you prescient – it made you a pariah.

I've been thinking a lot about premature antifascism these days, as literal fascists use the internet to coordinate a global authoritarian takeover that represents an existential threat to a habitable planet and human thriving. In light of that, it's hard to argue that the internet is politically irrelevant, and that fights over the regulation, governance, and structure of the internet are somehow unserious.

And yet, it wasn't very long ago that tech policy was widely derided as a frivolous pursuit, and that tech organizing was dismissed as "slacktivism":

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Elevating concerns about the internet's destiny to the level of human rights struggle was delusional, a glorified argument about the rules for forums where sad nerds argued about Star Trek. If you worried that Napster-era copyright battles would make it easy to remove online content by claiming that it infringed copyright, you were just carrying water for music pirates. If you thought that legalizing and universalizing encryption technology would safeguard human rights, you were a fool who had no idea that real human rights battles involved confronting Bull Connor in the streets, not suing the NSA in a federal courtroom.

And now here we are. Congress has failed to update consumer privacy law since 1988 (when they banned video store clerks from blabbing about your VHS rentals). Mass surveillance enables everything from ransomware, pig butchering and identity theft to state surveillance of "domestic enemies," from trans people to immigrants. What's more, the commercial and state surveillance apparatus are, in fact, as single institution: states protect corporations from privacy law so that corporations can create and maintain population-scale nonconsensual dossiers on all the intimate facts of our lives, which governments raid at will, treating them as an off-the-books surveillance dragnet:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

Our speech forums have been captured by billionaires who censor anti-oligarchic political speech, and who spy on dissident users in order to aid in political repression. Bogus copyright claims are used to remove or suppress disfavorable news reports of elite rapists, thieves, war criminals and murderers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

You'd be hard pressed to find someone who'd describe the fights over tech governance in 2025 as frivolous or disconnected from "real politics"

This is where the premature antifascist stuff comes in. An emerging revisionist history of internet activism would have you believe that the first generation of tech liberation activists weren't fighting for a free, open internet – we were just shilling for tech companies. The P2P wars weren't about speech, privacy and decentralization – they were just a way to help the tech sector fight the entertainment industry. DRM fights weren't about preserving your right to repair, to privacy, and to accessibility – they were just about making it easy to upload movies to Kazaa. Fighting for universal access to encryption wasn't about defending everyday people from corporate and state surveillance – it was just a way to help terrorists and child abusers stay out of sight of cops.

Of course, now these fights are all about real things. Now we need to worry about centralization, interoperability, lock-in, surveillance, speech, and repair. But the people – like me – who've been fighting over this stuff for a quarter-century? We've gone from "unserious fools who mistook tech battles for human rights fights" to "useful idiots for tech companies" in an eyeblink.

"Premature Internet Activists," in other words.

This isn't merely ironic or frustrating – it's dangerous. Approaching tech activism without a historical foundation can lead people badly astray. For example, many modern tech critics think that Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes internet users liable for illegal speech acts, while immunizing entities that host that speech) is a "giveaway to Big Tech" and want to see it abolished.

Boy is this dangerous. CDA 230 is necessary for anyone who wants to offer a place for people to meet and discuss anything. Without CDA 230, no one could safely host a Mastodon server, or set up the long-elusive federated Bluesky servers. Hell, you couldn't even host a group-chat or message board:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

Getting rid of CDA 230 won't get rid of Facebook or make it clean up its act. It will just make it impossible for anyone to offer an alternative to Facebook, permanently enshrining Zuck's dominance over our digital future. That's why Mark Zuckerberg wants to kill Section 230:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/zuckerberg-calls-changes-techs-section-230-protections-rcna486

Defending policies that make it easier to host speech isn't the same thing as defending tech companies' profits, though these do sometimes overlap. When tech platforms have their users' back – even for self-serving reasons – they create legal precedents and strong norms that protect everyone. Like when Apple stood up to the FBI on refusing to break its encryption:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple%E2%80%93FBI_encryption_dispute

If Apple had caved on that one, it would be far harder for, say, Signal to stand up to demands that it weaken its privacy guarantees. I'm no fan of Apple, and I would never mistake Tim Cook – who owes his CEOhood to his role in moving Apple production to Chinese sweatshops that are so brutal they had to install suicide nets – for a human rights defender. But I cheered on Apple in its fight against the FBI, and I will cheer them again, if they stand up to the UK government's demand to break their encryption:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c20g288yldko

This doesn't make me a shill for Apple. I don't care if Apple makes or loses another dime. I care about Apple's users and their privacy. That's why I criticize Apple when they compromise their users' privacy for profit:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

The same goes for fights over scraping. I hate AI companies as much as anyone, but boy is it a mistake to support calls to ban scraping in the name of fighting AI:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

It's scraping that lets us track paid political disinformation on Facebook (Facebook isn't going to tell us about it):

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#quis-custodiet-ipsos-zuck

And it's scraping that let us rescue all the CDC and NIH data that Musk's broccoli-hair brownshirts deleted on behalf of DOGE:

https://www.cnet.com/tech/services-and-software/how-to-access-important-health-info-thats-been-scrubbed-from-the-cdc-site/

It's such a huge mistake to assume that anything corporations want is bad for the internet. There are many times when commercial interests dovetail with online human rights. That's not a defense of capitalism, it's a critique of capitalism that acknowledges that profits do sometimes coincide with the public interest, an argument that Marx and Engels devote Chapter One of The Communist Manifesto to:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

In the early 1990s, Al Gore led the "National Information Infrastructure" hearings, better known as the "Information Superhighway" hearings. Gore's objective was to transfer control over the internet from the military to civilian institutions. It's true that these institutions were largely (but not exclusively) commercial entities seeking to make a buck on the internet. It's also true that much of that transfer could have been to public institutions rather than private hands.

But I've lately – and repeatedly – heard this moment described (by my fellow leftists) as the "privatization" of the internet. This is strictly true, but it's even more true to say that it was the demilitarization of the internet. In other words, corporations didn't take over functions performed by, say, the FCC – they took over from the Pentagon. Leftists have no business pining for the days when the internet was controlled by the Department of Defense.

Caring about the technological dimension of human rights 30 years ago – or hell, 40 years ago – doesn't make you a corporate stooge who wanted to launch a thousand investment bubbles. It makes you someone who understood, from the start, that digital rights are human rights, that cyberspace would inevitably evert into meatspace, and that the rules, norms and infrastructure we built for the net would someday be as consequential as any other political decision.

I'm proud to be a Premature Internet Activist. I just celebrated my 23rd year with the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and yesterday, we sued Elon Musk and DOGE:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-sues-opm-doge-and-musk-endangering-privacy-millions

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/2025/02/13/digital-rights/#are-human-rights

Image: Felix Winkelnkemper (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Acoustic_Coupler.jpg

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

#pluralistic #eff #malcolm gladwell #section 230 #copyright #copyfight #privacy #code is speech #napster #creative commons #premature antifascist #trustbusting #antitrust #al gore #nii #national information infrastructure hearings #demilitarization #information superhighway #clicktivism

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