#in case there isn't any place to dispose of them

[imaginarydaughterz]

i smoke all the time and i still make a point to watch where any smoke is going + never flick my butts anywhere it's not that hard people !!

[princessesqcue]

Man In Suits

(Salesman x female!reader)

Summary:: you come across a stranger twice before agreeing to a game , you win big but what of the losses you take at unclarified stakes

warnings ! age gap ,stalking ,manipulation,mentions of married saleman ,detailed smut scenes, violence , there's more to come so i will edit this part<3

MNDI!

Part 2

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He is a nameless man but he knows you, he did his homework and so he knows all there is to know of you

YN LN

Age 22

Born to immigrant parents with no form of recorded identification, well you technically do but for an adult you are a pathetic case , stuck in a foreign country without a penny to your name, not a polite plan but your useless parents love you , right YN?

no?

Well then , you're fucked

It honestly doesn't matter because you are easily just another piece of disposable trash, a useless gullible thing and a walking target for all that could eat alive a weak thing as yourself but you might have had the angel of luck on your shoulder to have stood in that same store as him on that damned day

it was just something about you , you had too much potential, in fact you were so pathetic he could see you in the game uniform the moment he laid eyes on you , way before even knowing your name but he is and always has been a meticulous character so he stood, patiently, kept his face from recoiling as you nearly got on your knees to beg for the vacant position in a disgusting store without a clue that he was cracking his neck to slap the lights out of the store owner right behind that counter

Is this all you can get for yourself

he judged harshly with a sense of superiority as he observed you already making you a mental profile

He wonders if you even took time to research this sorry excuse of a store in all your desperate glory ,did you know of the two male companions that assisted this sleaze behind the counter in keeping the store dead as it was ,did you know that they could be far worse than the slimy pig who is just dying to fuck you, he tugs at your arm to let out with an even slimier tone

"I will call you on Monday, I promise"

and he winks

that was it ,all it took for you to leave your number there on a piece of paper

he isn't even looking for the fractures in humanity at this point and just like all the people who end up in that dumpsters , you too look like a victim of your own choices ,like trying to mix yourself with low lives who don't even try to hide the fact that they are salivating at the mounds of flesh that spill from the top of your dress

that is where he draws the line between himself and humans , humans like you and them , he is not rooted in excess and somewhere at the core of his values he really believes that his innate human desires do not control him

you have some tricks up your sleeves he will give you that , you really had not notice him stood behind you this entire time and like the user you are you turned to face him , a scowl taking over your features as you bump into him , you take a good look at him ,

Crisp suit and not a hair out of place, he looks put together , far handsome than any man in this hell hole but the briefcase in his hand makes you want to scoff for this particular part of town and you conclude  that the man is probably another pretentious bastard who belongs right where he's shopping ,staring for a second before you are pulled back to reality by the sound of your potential boss' voice telling you to make room for the customer making you mutter a simple sorry as you brush past the man whose face is housing a faux smile

Cold eyes that give nothing at all staying glued to yours , your face and never below your chin , that was easily a new with a man , especially in this part of town but then again he could just be a Jehovah's witness , those can be fun to mind fuck

you sway your hips in a hypnotic manner feeling the store owners eyes on you all the way through that exit , you were pathetic yes , not dumb...you knew that you were never going to get hired and if he called you back he would just be looking to get his dick wet

the patient man ,stood in his suit staring dead into the eyes of the man behind the counter with that faux smile that never meets his eyes, he lays flat a greeting to the man across him commanding the man's attention and when his eyes fall on the man in front of him it takes him a moment to respond but suited man with his practiced smile lays an offer just as the slimy man parts an inch of his mouth to speak

"Would you be interested in playing a game with me ?"

"What..." he scoffs as he puffs out his chest and gives an insulting look that could easily match his follow up words

"sir , a game ?...-''he lays his hand on the surface counter and laughs slightly ridiculed ''do you think this place runs on ''games '', mmhm? whatever makes you think i have the time to play some stu-''

''Seo Davis,''the salesman smiles bringing the man to a halt for a second , he watches him intently and waits for him to get ready to speak again and just like those games he enjoys so well , as  the guy opens is mouth to speak the suited man speaks ''age :42 ,You're drowning in debt... 2.3 million total  with 70 percent of your store losses going to the loan sharks ,and that is not even a brink of your financial problems Mr Seo, Creditors are circling, waiting to pounce.., but ten again by the time they get here this place will be a shell of what it never was -'' he quirks an eyebrow ''you know why? You're already so desperate, paranoid and defensive...'' he laid down his briefcase , clicking it open to the man's eyes '' You'll do whatever it takes to survive''

he can already see it in the man's eyes , the greed unhinged ''So, Mr. Seo, tell me... Are you ready to play a new game? One where the stakes are high, but the rewards are higher?'' with a gulp from the man , he picks the red envelope and the quiet store had for the first time in a while the loudest blend between ddakji slaps and the suited man's firm hand making contact with the store owner's face .

That was a month ago

you never got that call back .

over the course of that and this month you could feel the joys you had for life slip out of you as you sat through another gathering with your moter and the company of friends she kept , you had become another conversation , pitied and reduced to what your peers earned that you didn't , to your beautiful body that didn't necessarily go with your face , to your pickiness that left you single and unmarried for the rest of your life

you hid well , behind scowls and smart emarks back to your critiques but that night you felt crazy , your nails digging into your arm to draw blood and silence the mind , he had to admit , it wasn't easy to track down a person whose last records dated back to when they were just eleven years old , that was when your passport expired and you were still here

stuck in a country that gives you nothing at all

he had no choice but to find you , follow you around , you weren't that hard to tail once he abandoned finding you by the system , he could have found someone to track you for him but he was also always a perfectionist , preffering a certain degree of dilligence , if ou were going to end up in that dumpster he needed to verify that you were truly worthy of the title of honorary trash and that is how his research began , only three days after that store encounter

he had to work a little overtime and even then following you around had come to be the easiest routine he ever had to follow even though it at the cost of his personal fun time usually scheduled at local homeless parks , he didn't mind given thhat so far you hadn't come around dissapointing him

you had been so good for him , so easy to watch in a manner that your routines albeit random became of solace to him to watch you about in your wasted days

he could only trust that you would continue to do right by him and agree him to at least one game because even if you personally don't subscribe to any debt you still suffer the consequences of your parents incompetence

he knows that you know of their pending debts because you still go around getting slapped on the wrist with every chance you manage to drag your pathetic self out of bed , you are a defeated little mess and none of the burdens you carry on your shoulders are really yours , the game didn't discriminate

he studied you to be left with just another predictable case on his hands , he was right about you , he was confident in your potential but he drags a nervous breath as he stalks towards your slumped form in that train station's silver bench, crying

you were crying, good . he wonders if you'd look him in the eyes at least once , he had yet to see your eyes bloodshot and all watery , God , he needs to get a grip

,you don't see him coming , you only look to your left to see a familiar unsettling faux smile of a stranger you couldn't care less of , his signature sly smile reflecting back to you your vulnerability and desperation that he is about to exploit ,despite your attempts to protect yourself with a tough exterior you are surprisingly oblivious to the dangers that linger around you ,him included

he knows he has gotten you when you let that ounce of recognition keep you rooted in your seat with the escape of a sigh that leaves your chapping lipd

"hello miss-''

"No-no-no , I don't want jesus christ , infact if you come across him tell him that I don't want eternal life , I would hate to do this again , let alone forever''

you take a deep breath , closing your eyes briefly after you little melt down

he couldn't care less, you already strike him as an abrupt little thing , your vulnerability does that for you , you are simply defensive , if he had been here for the reasons your impulses accuse of him maybe he would have had to persist harder but then again he has so much better for you , his faux smile deepening as he questions

''are you okay?''

you divert your eyes from him looking at your hands that tremble slightly , he doesn't really like to waste his time but he dangles a tissue in font of you , this one is from the kindness of his heart and he gives you the time to collect yourself before laying out the big apple in that low smooth tone that should aid you in trusting him

"would you like to take a break from your worries and play a little game with me ? ''

''game?''

the briefcase clicks open the same time as you whip your head towards him ,a briefcase you have held at such harsh judgements laid open before you , a neatly organised compartment consisting of two square , envelopes? blue and red , cash , loads of cash...you should be excited , intrigued at the sight of the cash but just below it stares back at you a revolver , loud and shiny

when your glossy eyes go to meet the suit man your nose unintentionally scrunches at that casual smile of his , unsettling as ever as he speaks ''you could win really big and do away with your family debt in just three games , Miss YN-shii'' the man operates at such a natural robotic pace which just poses another blazing red flag in your interaction ,you know better than to indulge this stranger , nothing of him calls you to trust him but it's at the back of your mind that he made use of your name when he lays open between you two that briefcase of his , you proceed to ask gulping hard at the stacks of cash

''what kind of game?''

he smiles smugly holding two colored envelopes between his nimble fingers

''amongst these two envelopes , one contain the precise amount of the money owed by your parents and the other contains a penalty ,which one do you choose Miss YN?''

I haven't agreed to playing yet-

the thought is far from finished when he notes to you that time is ticking and you fold so sweetly under pressure , the meek little thing you are , ocd and eager to please would be caught dead before ever missing a deadline let alone disappoint anyone at all and so the salesman pouts

you are impulsive under pressure , you note as your hand flies to the blue envelope , it's bright that's your humble reason as the man's eyebrow shoots up , unreadable prompting a sight out of you as you await promised penalty while he opens the envelope

''oh -"

"what's the penalty " you ask voice barely above a whisper

the man's smile grows wider as he reveals to you a small paper that has you rolling your eyes

"Seems like you have won temporary reprieve Miss Yn, penalty has been reprieved...for now, you are left with two chances "

the envelopes change and you pick again, blue again and you honestly don't know what you are still doing here but perhaps you are at your wits end with all the doors shut to your face, you throw caution to the wind as you recall being rejected at a local strip club , they were blunt telling you that you were not what the locals pay to see , you scoffed and you have zoned out

The mans face turns serious and, you look angry , almost missing out on the fact that you won

"Congratulations Miss Yn ," in your face is a card written exactly 800k won and a bank card attached at the back, there is a crease in your eyebrows , questions swim there, doubt and suspicion too

"how do I know that you are mot just bullshitting me  , what if none of this works?"

he slides a card towards you , triangle, circle, square and a phone number printed on the back

It's strange, too easy and you don't believe in angels or easy luck not for you, especially not for you of all people

"I give you 24 hours to bask in your victory Miss Yn, the details of your penalty remain on hold until then"

you are confused , cat really got your tongue and you stay puzzled even as the man bids you farewell

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ _ + _ _ _ _ _ +-------+_ _ _ _+-------+_ _ _ _ _

you had clutched tight the envelope from the strange man for the rest of that night , barely slept a wink looking him up on the internet , it had started with the card of shaped symbols which lead you to preschool stuff , you so badly wanted to believe that maybe he was a preschool teacher but your wide awake senses rejected the idea so greatly your nose bled at 2am in the darkness

, you tried with the number as you further spiraled into desperation....NOTHING. When the morning came your feet carried you back to that train station , you occupied the very same seat as you had that day , you waited before you were seeking him , trails that lead you back to that store , or what you think to once have been a store , ashes and broken glass residing there, you seeked your surroundings for a strange yet familiar face until a part of you is convinced that he is just a fragment of your imagination , a byproduct of the immense stress and disappointment of you daily life

you wander and wander until you are stood in front of an atm , fucking around to find out , and find out you did.

your father's bank balance reflected back at you sums and amounts you would never even dream of ,800k as the man had said and you still couldn't believe it.

you could have just enjoyed it but you wanted the catch , a fault , anything to tell you that you were deluded,

you went home , you often thought about what you'd say you to your parents who sheltered you with all they could manage as you entered the threshold of your home , a tought that goes away as soon as you meet the joyed expression of your father who is somehow confident that he won a quarter of the lottery , he wasn't far off as it all felt surreal only , as he showed you a dramatic text from an unsaved contact

congratulations mr LN on your lottery win of 800k , your victory has been deposited into your account , enjoy~!!

you felt scared , you wondered if you had been baited to some illegal scheme that could lend not you but your father in prison

you prayed not as you went from confused to making excuses to deciding that you needed to contact the suit man , you dialed quickly the number on the card , it rang before a feminine voice greeted on the other side "hello, who's this?"

the crease of your eyebrows could only get deeper as you frowned

"Hello , may I please talk to the man...''you cringed at your tone and the ridiculousness of the situation , the realisation that you didn't even know his name ,''he wears suits and carries around a briefcase-" beep

the line disconnects before you are done and you try the call again, double checking each digit before pressing call , this time the woman get's to talk before you do

"I will pull your tongue out and wrap it around your neck until you die if you ever call my husband again.''

she didn't even wait for your response before cutting off the line

third time is a charm , you seem to be blocked as you are immediately rejected before calling it a day , not entirely though given that your desperation was venturing on the lines of paranoia ,it was a joyful day in your home , your father still convinced that he won the lottery which meant that you got no thanks at all for your efforts , not to be mistaken , you appreciated the heat of having to explain yourself or the mysterious money being removed off your shoulders but a teeny tiny list of reasons overwhelm you , for starters...was it a coincidence that the money had gotten to your father as a simple run into the luck of lottery, your efforts entirely discarded , you technically didn't have to do much for the money which is what posses the biggest threat to you right now , despite wanting to tell yourself that you won this money fair and square the rationed part of yourself cannot simply accept that life would just be so...giving? to you of all people...what was all tat about a pending penalty?

it's nearly 24hrs since  you last came across that man,' would he have shown up if you hadn't gone to the bank ?

a lot of things were unclear as you laid awake for the second night in a row ,you needed answers that the chat assistant in your pocket could not answer , and so you slipped on your  pair of slippers  , you just wanted to clear your head and that path lead you to the opposite end of the subway from where you sat yesterday , even at these late hours exhausted people occupy the place , probably people with jobs to return from, you wonder if some may even be going to thier jobs and somewhere between your thoughts you get lost, your fingers becoming the object of your focus on your lap amidst the quiet noise of a busy station

you are strangely calmed by the waves of trains and the chaos of your mind is muted until the waves are blending with something else , clapping?

You lift up your eyes and you don't have to search far because right across you through the windows of a train stands a confident suited man who throws a familiar red envelope to the ground, you quickly realise that he is flipping the blue envelope on the ground before proceeding to slap the man across him, hard and fast

It's natural that your eyebrows crease as the man is handed some cash before the suit man is leaving up the stairs

you are even more skeptical of him but you still run after him as soon as the train departs and you risk your life with the hopes of possibly getting some questions answered

It's not really a surprise by the time you reach the stairs there is absolutely no one but you keep going, in your head you think you will just run into him and the idea makes your palms sweaty. The man carries a gun, he slaps people and.. -he's turning a corner down the sketchy passage

every part of you, rational is screaming at you but your feet still work very fine so you jog after him, he must have impaired hearing because you heave painfully and your slippers basically slap the ground beneath your feet loud enough to reach him, as you reach the corner you scan briefly before he's right there, he suddenly appears in front of you under the flickering exhausted lights and the familiar scent of his expensive cologne overwhelms your senses

at the first eye contact you make with the man you bow your head , contemplating your decision to case after him , you hadn't even prepared a what you would say to him and now all your senses were screaming at you to turn back

you have to talk yourself into staying rooted as he takes slow steps towards you ,the distance between you two is becoming smaller by the minute and you are actually getting scared because because the summer rain hits you without warning and his faux smile is nowhere to be seen tonight in place of his faux smile is a darkness occupying his eyes

you don't know if it could save your life but you bow and issue out a greeting

he does take a halt ,right in front of you , you are preparing your next words when he reaches for your cheek ,eyes deep and set on yours as he slowly backs you against the wall , the pad of his thumb caresses the area and you are highly aware of him and everything around him

you wonder if you look as brave as you intend to present to te man in front of you getting on your tippy toes to glance behind him and letting the fact that it's only the two of you here sink just as you decide that you are allergic to silence , the one he is presenting to you anyway

"do you live around here , ajushi?'' you continue to avoid his eyes looking around the area just to distract yourself from the fear bubbling beneath the surface

"I don't''

he doesn't beat around the bush as he pops out the biggest question

"why are you following me? YN"

the hand on your cheek trails slowly down until i's at your neck where his rough thumb massages in meditated motions on the column of your throat ,

''I wasn't-'' the hold on your neck turns not so gentle yet not enough to disrupt your breathing pattern , it's a warning just as the words that follow up

''I have an idea , you answer my questions , for every answer that I don't like i add pressure to your precious little neck

-with that , be mindful of what you answer miss yn, '' he loosens his hold slightly finally flashing you a formal smile , nowhere near friendly even with his full set of teeth on display

''so Miss YN , have you been following me?"

his eyebrows shoot up in an expression that makes you think for a second that he is actually adorable , only the hand on your neck makes you start talking

"'I tried to call you ,on the number you gave me but a woman answered and told me that I would be dead if I ever called her husband again"

he hums just as his hand tightens , you can for a second taste the faux courage exit you system as you try to gulp down the sheer panic bubbling up

he shakes his hand side to side ''that just won't do YN-

why are you following me ?''

''I wanted to thank you , my father recieved the money but I couldn't find you anywhere so I went to the train station for some air and then i saw you- you can't stop there ,he is so close to cutting your air flow

''I wanted to talk to you and ask about the penalty and why my father is convinced that he won the lottery , you walked too fast and I couldn't call you so I ran , I didn't mean to follow you''

you did it again , your frustrated meltdown thing and now you were crying , he should feel sympathy

but fuck you look far better than he imagined you would with your eyes all watery ,he's pushing and at the sight of your hands shooting up to where he clutches your neck adding pressure by the passing second you become quite aware of the nearest news headline

"woman , 22 found in the nearest ditch-''

"would you like to come with me or return home to live in the devastating shadow of the peanuts that your brother earns , hmm YN?''

he let's go of you and you cough violently shooting a glare in his direction as he reaches a hand towards your face swiping a tear before sucking the section of the thumb

you shake your head no and you expect him to be...well.. himself about the matter but he simply turns away to leave you in the pouring rain teeth chattering , you are not even sure where you are so you do the next dumbest thing , block his path

"t-t-take me - with you''.

[usualgangofidiots]

MAD MONEY

(story originally published in Mental Floss magazine)

MAD magazine has always prided itself on being a subversive, counter-culture presence. Since its founding in 1952, many celebrated comedians have credited the publication with forming their irreverent sense of humor, and scholars have noted that it has regularly served as a primer for young readers on how to question authority. That attitude frequently brought the magazine to the attention of the FBI, who kept a file on its numerous perceived infractions—like offering readers a "draft dodger" card or providing tips on writing an effective extortion letter.

The magazine's "Usual Gang of Idiots" outdid themselves in late 1967, though, when issue #115 featured what was clearly a phony depiction of U.S. currency. In addition to being valued at $3—a denomination unrecognized by the government—it featured the dim-witted face of MAD mascot Alfred E. Neuman.

When taken at its moronic face value, there was absolutely no way anyone with any sense could have confused the bill for actual money. But what MAD hadn't accounted for was that a machine might do exactly that. Around the time of the issue's release, automated coin change machines were beginning to pop up around the country. Used in laundromats, casinos, and other places where someone needed coins rather than bills, people would feed their dollars into the unit and receive an equal amount of change in return.

At that time, these machines were not terribly sophisticated. And as a few enterprising types discovered, they didn't have the technology to really tell Alfred E. Neuman's face from George Washington's. In Las Vegas and Texas, coin unit operators were dismayed to discover that people had been feeding the phony MAD bill into the slots and getting actual money in return.

How frequently this happened isn't detailed in any source we could locate. But in 1995, MAD editor Al Feldstein, who guided the publication from its origins as a slim comic book to netting 2.7 million readers per issue, told The Comics Journal that it was enough to warrant a visit from the U.S. Treasury Department.

"We had published a three-dollar bill as some part of an article in the early days of MAD, and it was working in these new change machines which weren't as sensitive as they are now, and they only read the face," Feldstein said. "They didn't read the back. [The Treasury Department] demanded the artwork and said it was counterfeit money. So Bill [Gaines, the publisher] thought this whole thing was ridiculous, but here, take it, here's a printing of a three-dollar bill."

Feldstein went on to say that the government employees demanded the "printing plates" for the bill, but the magazine had already disposed of them. The entire experience, Feldstein said, was "unbelievable."

The visit didn't entirely discourage the magazine from trafficking in fake currency. In 1979, a MAD board game featured a $1,329,063 bill.

A few decades later, a "twe" (three) dollar bill was circulated as a promotional item. The bills were slightly smaller than the dimensions of actual money—just in case anyone thought a depiction of Alfred E. Neuman's gap-toothed portrait was evidence of valid U.S. currency.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Big Tech and “captive audience venues”

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL next WEDNESDAY (Apr 2), and in BLOOMINGTON next FRIDAY (Apr 4). More tour dates here.

Enshittification is what you get when tech companies, run by the common-or-garden mediocre sociopaths who end up at the top of most businesses, are unshackled from any consequence for indulging their worst, greediest impulses:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/20/capitalist-unrealism/#praxis

The reason Facebook was once a nice place to hang out and talk with your friends and isn't anymore is that Mark Zuckerberg is no longer disciplined by competitors like Instagram (which he bought) nor by regulators (whom he captured), nor by interoperable tech like ad-blockers and alternative clients (which he uses IP law to destroy) nor by his own workforce (who have become disposable thanks to workforce supply catching up with demand). It used to be that Mark Zuckerberg couldn't really move the enshittification lever in the Facebook C-suite because these disciplining forces gummed it up. He had to worry about losing users, or about users installing alternative technology, or about regulators hitting him hard enough to hurt, or about workplace revolts. Now, he doesn't have to worry about these things, so he's indulging the impulses that he's had since the earliest days in his Harvard dorm, when he was a mere larval incel cooking up an online service to help him rate the fuckability of his female classmates.

When we had defenses, Mark Zuckerberg had to respect them. Now that we're defenseless, he's shameless. He's insatiable. He will devour us to the marrow.

When I'm explaining enshittification to normies, I often make comparisons to other places where you can't escape like airports and sports stadiums: "Facebook can afford to abuse you once they have you locked for the same reason that water costs $7/bottle on the other side of the airport TSA checkpoint." It's an extremely apt comparison, as you can verify for yourself by reading "Shakedown at the Snack Counter: The Case for Street Pricing," a new report from the Groundwork Collective:

https://groundworkcollaborative.org/work/street-pricing/

"Shakedown" makes the point that – as is the case with tech giants – sports stadiums and airports are creatures of vast public subsidy. If this seems counterintuitive, try Mariana Mazzucato's Entrepreneurial State, which lists all the ways in which the tech revolution represents a privatization of publicly funded research, as with the iPhone, whose semiconductors, internet connection, voice assistant technology, touchscreen and other components all count the public as a key investor:

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/economy/the-entrepreneurial-state-appl

And, as with airports and sports stadiums, the proprietors of the iPhone business are able to reap this gigantic public subsidy without taking on any public duties. Regulators that could impose some kind of public service obligations as quid pro quo for using public funds are AWOL, or worse, captured and complicit in the ongoing, publicly financed ripoff:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/15/private-law/#thirty-percent-vig

Airport, stadiums and tech platforms are all walled gardens – roach motels that are hard to escape once they've been entered. Thus the scorching prices of stadium and airport food, and the 30% transaction fees imposed by Apple and Google on app revenues (this is 1,000% higher than the average fees charged by the rest of the payment processing industry!), the 51% fees extracted by Google/Meta from advertisers and publishers (compare with the historical average of 15%), and the 45-51% that Amazon takes out of every dollar earned by its platform sellers. Once you're locked in, they can turn the screws, either by gouging buyers directly, or by gouging sellers, who pass those additional costs onto buyers.

Groundwork has a proposal to address this in physical settings: regulation. Specifically, a "street pricing" regulation that keeps the charges for food and drinks within these walled gardens to prices comparable to those on the outside. They note that these regulations enjoy wide, bipartisan support. 76% of Republicans support a regulation that can only be described as "price controls," two words that normally trigger head-explosions in the right.

How is it that such a commanding majority of Republicans can get behind government price controls? Simple: it's obvious that when a company no longer faces market discipline – when they're the only game in town (or on the other side of the TSA checkpoint) – that government discipline has to fill the vacuum, and if it doesn't, you will get mercilessly screwed.

This is where enshittification – a form of monopolistic decay unique to the tech sector – departs from everyday monopoly abuse in other sectors, like aviation and league sports. Tech has an in-built flexibility, the inescapable property of "interoperability" that comes standard with every digital system thanks to the universal nature of computers themselves.

Interoperable technologies let you hack Instagram to restore it to the state of privacy- and attention-respecting glory that made it a success in the first place:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

They let you monitor Facebook's failures to uphold its own promises about not profiting from paid political disinformation:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/06/get-you-coming-and-going/#potemkin-research-program

They let you claw back control over how Facebook's feeds are constructed:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/08/unfollow-everything/#shut-the-zuck-up

They let Apple customers maintain their privacy, even if they have the temerity to be friends with Android users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/07/blue-bubbles-for-all/#never-underestimate-the-determination-of-a-kid-who-is-time-rich-and-cash-poor

They let shoppers use Amazon to order from local mom-and-pop stores:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/10/view-a-sku/

They even let you destroy the net worth – and power – of Elon Musk:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/08/turnabout/#is-fair-play

Interoperability creates a unique, easily administered source of discipline over tech bosses that just isn't available as a means of countering the ripoffs we see elsewhere, including in sports stadiums and airports. That means that, far from being harder to fix than other disgusting scams in our society, tech is easier to fix. All that stands in the way is the IP laws that criminalize the kind of reverse-engineering work that allow the users of technology to have the final say over how the devices and services they rely on work:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Those IP laws were spread around the world by the US Trade Representative, who insisted that every country that wanted to export its products to the US without punitive tariffs must pass laws protecting the rent-extracting scams of US tech giants. With those tariff promises now in tatters, there's never been a better time for the rest of the world to jettison those Big Tech-protecting laws:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/15/beauty-eh/#its-the-only-war-the-yankees-lost-except-for-vietnam-and-also-the-alamo-and-the-bay-of-ham

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/2025/03/28/street-pricing/#sportball-analogies

Image: Daniel Brody (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:South-Station-snack-bar-1970.jpg

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

[chimerafeathers]

the concept of intentional boredom/tedium in video games is very much a "your mileage may vary" kind of thing and i go back and forth about it in different situations. where does it work? where does it feel earned/worth the mental toll? why am i gonna play a game that is trying to make me miserable?

i can understand this not being the case for everyone (ymmv, after all) but for ISaT i was so fucking fully on board with the repetitive tedium of it all. rubbing my grubby little hands together and going yesssss, yesssssss, make my immersive gameplay experience directly emulate the exact frustrations and anxieties and mind-numbing breakdowns of the player character. remind me, at every turn, the toll this would take on the person living it. make me live their inner monologue before it's ever verbalized on screen.

how strong you feel, compared to the party you're inevitably leaving behind, how weak they seem now. how annoying it is to cut down these same enemies again and again, always pointlessly getting in your way (oh, how convenient that Siffrin feels the same way so intensely that you can get an item that lets him scare them off by sheer force of will before they attack you!). since when was the King's battle--so terrifying, so impossible before--so easy? can't this go faster? you've heard this all before.

let me skip ahead, loop around, treat my character my body Siffrin as disposable, take the fast and easy way to reach the next goal when you're on the verge of an exciting breakthrough, this loop doesn't matter anyway. but ohh, this next loop might be The One, better do this one right and follow the script to perfection. make all the jokes and say all the right things to get the lovely bonding dialogue so you can carry the Best Version of Everyone through to the end. that'll give you the Good Ending, right? can't hurt to try, right? you don't really believe it but this time will fix everything, right?

how generous and wonderful to have so many shortcuts at hand! dissociating zoning out to skip repetitive dialogue, splitting your head open on a rock slipping on a banana peel in the town to loop right to the floor you need, suuuuurely all of this stuff is purely for the Player's Convenience and won't have any psychological impact on our dear protagonist such that it gets slammed back into the player's face as a stomach-dropping reminder that someone's moment-to-moment experience in this time loop still matters, still carries over, still gets riddled with scars even if they can't be seen!

i've played & watched enough games that trivialize/hand-wave game mechanics that it's pretty easy to detach myself from the minutiae of video game decision-making. "this input gets the Good Response" -> "i will continue doing this input." "this option will be more efficient" -> "might as well save some time then." but this game would not let me stop thinking about consequence.

picking Siffrin's favorite food makes them happy! :) it's also the option that makes Bonnie the happiest! yay! -> i keep picking their favorite food -> Siffrin gradually grows sick of something that once brought him joy -> oh. right. that...makes sense, huh.

okay i asked the King what i needed, mann there won't be any tears after the fight is over so i'll have to do the whole ending scene again and that takes a while and i reeeeally wanna talk to Loop, maybe i'll just lose on purpose this time -> OH. RIGHT. THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST PAINFUL WAY FOR SIFFRIN TO DIE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY HUH. -> never gonna do that again actually!!!!! the ending isn't that long!!!!

banana peel time! we've got places to be and mysteries to solve! -> (you're a living comedy sketch.) (you wonder if you'll ever be able to smell bananas again without wanting to vomit.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

it's always cute to see Isabeau's reactions! pick the options that make him blush :3 -> (disgusting. manipulative. it's no wonder he thinks he likes you, you made him feel that way.) -> i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry siffrin NO he liked you before any of this happened please don't think of yourself that way--

maybe it won't hit the same for every player (what game can expect to do that?) but holy fuck it hit for me. the way the mechanics let you fall into familiar gamey rhythms but constantly, constantly remind you that this is Siffrin's life you're playing with. the way you end up perfectly in step in the worst ways. muscle memory and habit built up so well that you both stumble when something changes. devastating and delicious

[kaialone]

Official Guilty Gear Anthology- Short Story "Street Light" (English Translation)

This will be a full English translation of the short story "Street Light", written by プランナーM (Planner M)

It’s the fifth out of five short stories included in the "Official Guilty Gear Anthology", which was available online for a limited time only from April 1st to April 8th 2024, as part of April Fools’ Day celebrations.

--

Street Light

"ISN'T IT ABOUT CLOSING TIME?"

"Right, we're almost sold out. Could you clean up in the back today?"

"ALRIGHT. DON'T FORGET TO CALCULATE THE SALES."

How many months has it been since I came here?

To be honest, I did not expect to be accepted by this town as quickly as I was.

At times, my past actions still weigh heavily on my heart.

However, the townspeople's smiles, their words of gratitude—they never fail to soothe it.

And so, every passing day leaves me feeling happy and fulfilled.

Suddenly, the doorbell chimed.

I was certain I had just put up the "Closed" sign, but a customer might have overlooked it.

Regrettably, I would have to ask them to leave.

"Apologies, but we are closed for the-"

I fell silent the moment I turned to the door and saw the one who had just entered the shop.

"You're…"

A fearless expression lurking behind a pair of sunglasses.

A well-toned body showing from beneath a black coat.

In spite of the laid-back aura emanating from him, I could find no opening in his posture.

I know of only one man with such a presence.

"Is this that famous place where they got a handsome boy baking some really good bread?"

"…I don't have an answer to that question. But this is indeed a bakery."

Johnny, leader of a group of chivalrous bandits known as the Jellyfish Pirates.

Although we were loosely acquainted, I couldn't think of any reason why he would come to meet me in person like this.

And our acquaintance went back to my time as an assassin. Therefore, the situation was even more difficult for me to assess.

…Still, I had no reason to be discourteous towards him.

He at least showed no signs of hostility or nosiness.

"Your visit is appreciated, but we do not have any of our best-selling products left at this time of day. It would be preferable if you arrived before the sun has set."

"What're you talking about? If a handsome specimen of a man such as myself showed his face during prime time when all the ladies are out shopping, your business would go down the tubes."

"Huh…? Er, thank you for your consideration…"

I wasn't sure of his intentions, or what he was even talking about.

Nonetheless, I thanked him for his—in his own way—thoughtful words and actions.

"…Oh, I get it, you're a clueless fella… I can see how that'd make you popular."

He looked dumbfounded for a moment and began muttering something to himself, but soon directed his attention back to me.

"I know this is sudden, but I came over 'cause I got a personal question for you."

"For me?"

"Yep. After all, you're not just an up-and-coming young baker who suddenly showed up in town. You're also a hero who keeps an eye on the scoundrels and protects the town's peace."

How does he know about that…?

Although, thinking back, it was I who raised my voice in defiance towards those men in the alleyway. No one else.

I shouldn't wonder if word of said incident has since been spread by the elderly man who bore witness to it.

And in any case, considering the vast information network at his disposal, he may have sources I could not even guess at…

"So, here's my question—Are you willing to risk your life for this town?"

…Where was this going?

There was no need to think about it. The answer to his question was etched into every fiber of my being.

"What a foolish thing to ask. If it's for the sake of that which I must protect, I will gladly throw away my-"

"Now, hold up."

He cut me off with such a firm tone that my breath caught in my throat.

It wasn't aggressive or domineering. And yet, his voice shook me to my core.

He carried on like that.

"You wanna protect this town, right? But I'm sure there's more to it than the town itself."

"…That is correct. The people and the bonds between them. Their feelings, their hopes. I wish to protect the web of connections woven into this town to the best of my abilities."

All of this was true.

I doubt a man like him would assume I could speak these words without the determination they demanded.

"You know…"

Seeming almost in disbelief, he looked me straight in the eye while he spoke.

"You're a part of that web, too. 'Course, so's your friend in the back."

"…What?"

Indeed, there was no denying that the townspeople would support me every day. And as such, I may have been made a part of their web myself… Thinking about it, I suppose I did feel that way.

But to me, the most important thing of all was to protect this… That's why…

"You're looking kinda troubled there, son. That hard to take yourself into consideration? If you're not even aware of it, this might be a more deep-seated issue, huh…?"

I was at a loss for words. It might have been a harsh thing to say, but I knew full well that he'd hit the nail on the head.

"Here's the thing though—You and your friend are part of this town now. So, if you wanna protect this town, you know where the best place to start is, right?

"But I-!"

"No buts! Listen, I'm not one to just complain, so let me give you a little lesson."

He made a pistol shape with his hand, pointed it in my direction and solemnly continued.

"I know that you've been literally putting your life on the line for as long as you've had it. But from now on…"

He took off his sunglasses, piercing me with a stern glare.

"Never throw your life away. But do risk your life. That's the way a man's oughta fight."

He concluded with those words.

"…Well, I'm gonna be protecting all of the ladies myself. So you only gotta protect half the people."

I could have taken it as a flippant remark, but it didn't seem like a joke. The tension surrounding us just moments ago had completely dissipated.

I thought I had died as an assassin and then been reborn, but…

Contrary to my expectations, life in the sunlight doesn't always go as planned.

"Well, I gotta get going now. Bread's the best when it's freshly baked, so I'll ask someone in my crew to stop by while the sun's still up."

He put his sunglasses back on and turned to leave.

"In that case, let them know that we will give them a discount if they mention your name. Consider it payment for the lesson you just gave me."

"Whoa there, I wasn't gonna bug you about it or nothing."

He laughed with a shrug and made his way towards the exit, only to turn back around one more time.

"I appreciate it, though. Well then, see ya later."

"…I must also express my gratitude. Please visit us again."

I bowed deeply as I watched his figure slip outside.

"HEY! I'M ALMOST DONE OVER HERE! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!"

I could hear my friend call out from further inside, sounding impatient.

"Oh, my apologies. I'm sorry to ask, but could you help me out with this?"

"UGH, WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITH YOU…? I SWEAR, YOU BETTER OIL ME LATER!"

Everyday life resumed.

Everyday life… I, Venom, find it to be both difficult and invaluable.

Something I must protect above all else.

And I must be aware that I, too, have made myself a part of it.

However, I know there is no need for me to rush. For this is not something one can rush to obtain.

"I will… protect this town. As one of the people of this town."

--

[sleepisoverrated]

Hi, hello, not dead just buried in schoolwork now that I'm in my final year (college applications, moving to a new house, driving lessons, 2 or 5 exams every week and can't forget that I got sick)..... So yeah not dead, but certainly looking like it.

Anyway Arcane season 2, I think ep 6 finally gave me depression and the show in general made me cry more than I did at my grandmas funeral. So I decided to share some of my head cannons that I had before season 2.

Silco braids Jinx's hair in styles his mother taught him, while singing, telling lessons, stories, poems, folklore, plans, day events or just complaints(post season two comment: can't believe I got so close with the hair thing, the braids were probably taught to him by Felicia, Jinx mother, but still I think Silcos mother taught him how to do hair)

‌Zaunish or old Zaun is russian

Old Zaun was a secret code that everyone in the mines knew so they could talk in peace, without a threat of getting beat up by supervisors, it eventually spread to their families so that they can protect themselves from enforcers, eventually everyone knew

‌Noxian is german

‌Piltovian is british english (english is a universal language, but some places made it their own eg. american, australian, british(the cockney accent is how Zaunites speak it))

‌Viktors name in old Zaun is Vitya

‌ Victor scares everyone when actually angry or in a sleep deprived mania

‌ Victor was a slut during his academy years, because everyone wanted some of that exotic Undercity twinks ass, so him saying "wait this isn't my bedroom" wouldn't have surprised anyone and could have worked as an excuse if Jayce hadn't opened his mouth

‌ Sevika had a sister that died in the bridge rebellion

‌Sevika and Silco are like siblings (Silco is most definitely the little spoiled brat sibling that can fuck you over if he convinces mom, in this case he is the little spoiled brat that can stab you and also has an army at his disposal)

‌ Sevika dislikes Jinx/Powder and Violet, because they (before the explosion) reminded her of herself with her big sister, it makes her uncomfortable how Jinx turned out and Vi "died"

‌Ekko still has a crush on Jinx/Powder (post season two comment: btw I meant he had a crush on her when she was Powder that stayed until canon s1, not the alternative universe Powder) even tough she changed (The bridge scene makes me cry) (post season two comment: we won but at what cost)

‌Ekko has hallucinations when he's inventing/building of Jinx that he talks to and interacts with( they build together and bounce ideas of eachother) (post season two comment: fucking hell how did I manage to hurt myself more)

Hope you like them! Can't promise any consistent posting, but I'll try at least shorter posts!

[urautismdiagnosis-wistie]

Do you have anymore sad headcanons for Peso? Sorry if I’m asking for too much I just like your writing😭💓

hm well, I definitely do have some ah, sadder things planned for him (he'll be ok in the end but its gonna be a rough ride) they just haven't happened yet in my comic tho lol

Although I suppose he is rather homesick and often. Its a strange kind of homesickness though, to miss a place that was incredibly stressful to you all the time... he doesn't really want to ever "go back" for good even if his dad is gone. Its more he misses some family, the physical environment, and cultural traditions and such. And also not having to crane his neck up at LITERALLY EVERYONE. Hes like an average height by penguin standards actually-

He misses the vast feeling of the arctic and the closeness of family. He makes sure to keep tabs in family group chat and such (where the autines do bombard him the most atrocious medical questions and internet rumors) but its not the same as *being there* and feeling a part of his family.

Alot of times in life you can't entirely win. You can go down this path that you'd never trade the world for, but you can still miss parts of your past.

Another thing he struggles with is just octonauts specific struggles. And im not referring to the self doubt complex or whatever either. Everyone on the octopod knows that their jobs have an inherent amount of danger but they all still trust him. Its not that they don't see him as a person with fatigue from working and etc, but its like they don't understand what danger they're actually in.

And it isn't even about things like gup crashes from storms, and an animal lashing out, or whatever that he means.

Yes peso is quite the prodigy. At least half of the octopod are just prodigies in their own fields. But the thing is they DONT understand how much they rely on luck.

He knows- he knows because he made sure- of all the safety regulations, preventive measures, failsafe and so on- he KNOWS there's so many things to prevent the worst-

But peso doesn't have an entire hospital at his disposal. Peso isn't a MEDICAL SPECIALIST. So if one time one bad specific thing happens- (it doesn't matter if he has medical databases at his disposal either-) he knows if someday-

If someday one thing happens, and it happens in just a specific way that the worst case scenario happens he won't be able to save them.

Peso can do surgery. Mostly for things like objects stuck within a creature or removing certain faulty parts. But he-

Its so so hard to explain or express but he can't help if he doesn't have the specific supplies or skills to do a specific operation- he can't help safe someone from a deadly venom that doesn't have a cure! He can't treat a type of TIME SENSITIVE damage when he doesn't have the machines for it- he can't DO ANY OF THAT. He can't save them if someone has some random fcking type of attack and he cant reach them! He can't just magically procure medicine they may need!

It doesn't matter HOW much he tries to prepare in advance and it doesn't matter what all he learns-

But he can't save them from everything. And its like they don't even know. They don't know how many times survival is just a hit or miss. They don't understand how hitting your head at a slightly wrong angle means you can instantly DIE.

But he does. He knows it better than anyone else.

They know "accidents happen" and that they COULD die, they'd prefer to die in some FREAK ACCIDENT cuz to them its be honorable or something. But to peso its a fcking failure. And not because he did anything wrong, but because he's the medic and he has to help everyone no matter what.

Yeah he takes anxiety medication. 💀👍 lik bro has wayyyy too much anxiety to be contained in his lil body man

He has successfully bullied/guilt tripped/blackmailed the others (barnacles kwazii AND DASHI no one ever talks about how casual dashi is about danger sometimes and yall need to) into actually taking proper precautions. >:|

He also wonders if he'll ever find true love or etv but eh he does have a pretty great crew (family)

[spotlightlowlife]

Sin misopportinity

I sort of think the last episode could have done with being a two parter, ending on the classic 'to be continued'. Why? Because technically, thought it was condensed down to 'Stolitz', a whole lot was going

• why exactly Stolas can't lend his book out if that's the case?

• isvit just Ozzie who can allow demons on earth and can dish a crystal out to just about anyone?

• who is and isn't allowed on earth and why?

• what are the differences between sins and goatia?

• what did all those of high status think of this case they had to observe?

It was hard to pinpoint what exactly the trial was about.

What were IMP in trouble for? Using Stolas's book? Going to Earth without being under jurisdiction and protocol which Blitzø now has down to the crysyal or was Blitzø in trouble for coercive abuse and stealing from his victim?

Blitzø and Stolas was the only case really built up with any evidence behind it, false aside, but what exactly was the criminal offense in this righteous world?

Their 'fling' was encouraged and there are other parings like it, but do Ozzie and Bee not rank above goatia?

The start of the episode had the team rushing to dispose of any trace of work, but what exactly were they hiding? This scene seem to make sense because 'shady+the law= run, hiding and cover lol', but it really doesn't.

Where they getting busted for an illegal business? No, they breach no particular moral code, the business was advertised (yeh yeh, pilot) and they have made no efforts to hide.

Taxes may have actually made for a good trial.

In the few times we have followed IMP to earth (excluding the shorts which are good and much needed, but maybe not a cohesive part of the story), Blitzø and co have been rather professional and stealthy, they have went directly to their target's locations and they have used weapons a human would use. They have pulled off not having human disguises because of time, place and the shallowness of the people around them.

On the other hand, Stolas presented himself to human in his monster form, which is probably fine since status brings special treatment, however Verosika and Barbiewire who is just an imp couldn't have drawn more attention to themselves.

We had Verosika, an asmodean crystal user and bee juice drinker (insinuated to be an adict), going to Earth and being responsible for a fish supersizing, causing a massive scene of the unexplained.

We have Barbiewire, an asmodean crystal user and addict who got close with a teenager who put in a dangerous situation and got killed, causing a gruesome mess which could easily have resulted in their little footprints being visible at this big deal of a crime scene.

So it would be a hard press to pull IMP up for misconduct because will these two ever be pulled up for their lack of professionalism? They alone could provide D.H.O.R.K with plenty of leads.

More questions

• is a lack of professionalism an issue?

• why would two messes be given such a privilege?

• what's in it for Ozzie having demons working under him and going to Earth?

• are Ozzie's crystals not carefully issued and regulated but something that can be bought?

• can Beeljuice be bought, why? Can it be transported out of hell with consequence?

• is it just Ozzie and Stolas with magic to get to earth?

Mastermind had it's moments but court is where you lay out all the formal stuff and build as clear picture as possible. Yes it's made less serious by this whole trial being bought on by a bit of hearsay but we had almost all the rulers wasting their time showing, along with goatia present, able to chip in a d giving nada.

This court even had the SIN OF WRATH wanting to tone down his behaviour dispite not answerable to anyone since the guy we are told is in charge wasn't there, he was reasonable enough to allow Blitzø to spare his team and open enough to broadcast the whole trial live for everyone, yet topping all this off with a jury would have been great, it would serve to show us where all the sins stand on matters poor Bel and Lev have entered into the story so lamely and had that been televised too, public opinion of royalty would also hold more substance (we really don't know why the general public would hate Stolas so much outside of just not liking the rich because rich).

Everything was set up for some in depth lore!

Lastly since jurisdiction is a thing, why didn't Ozzie speak up and say Blitzø works for him now and maybe fill us in on what that actually means? If anything?

[madhatterbri]

A Demon's Grace | F.B.

Summary: I got a humour/fluff idea for Finn/Demon Balor x reader. Demon Balor isn't afraid of anything or anyone EXCEPT Finn and reader's 5 year old daughter who in his own words is "bossy, a know it all, a chatterbox and is a mini version of her mother". The demon and Finn's little girl love to complain about each other to Finn as well 😀. You can choose the little girl's name.

Author's Note: Changed this one from my other demon Finn stories. Basically, the Demon is it's own entity. He is able to part from Finn in his own free will.

Requested by: anon

Finn Balor Masterlist

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps @new-zealand-chic @mrsarcherofinfamy

"How was our little Grace today?" Y/N asked that night. The parents were lying in bed, laughing and recounting their day. "Driving her big Demon brother insane?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. A bossy, know it all, chatterbox that is a mini version of her mother," he answered and laughed. Y/N couldn't hide her laugh. His Demon side certainly didn't like her. Some days she swore he viewed her as the evil stepmother.

"Oh, do tell, and please do not leave out any details," she chuckled.

Finn kissed her forehead as she snuggled into his shoulder.

Finn smiled at his five-year-old daughter, Grace. While behind her little kitchen set, she talked about the events that took place at daycare that day. The proud father's heart swelled with pride at how smart she was. He sat patiently waiting for her to serve tea and food. As she continued talking, the Demon form of him groaned.

"Does she ever stop talking?" The Demon asked rudely. "You should get it checked out just in case we have to send it back to the factory for a new one,"

"She's five," Finn answered harshly. "She likes to talk,"

"What's Y/N's excuse then?" The Demon responded with a chuckle.

Before Finn could respond, Grace gasped loudly. The doting father ignored his demon side's blatant rudeness.

"What happened, sweetheart? You get a boo boo," Finn asked and sat on his knees to get to check on her.

"I have to start over," she informed them with an exaggerated huff. Through the window, they could see her dump the plastic eggs in the disposal.

"Burning fake food? She is her mother's daughter," the Demon mused.

Finn sighed and rolled his eyes. This was an everyday occurrence between them. Ever since Grace could walk and talk, they have pestered each other like siblings.

"Daddy?" Grace asked.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He asked softly. The Demon snorted at the nickname. There was nothing sweet about that cretin.

"When is Halloween?"

The Demon's happy demeanor suddenly changed. Halloween is the one day a year that the Demon could walk in public without fear or judgment. People loved his "costume" and even took pictures with him. The Demon loved the attention until Grace started to make him dress like Disney characters.

It started last year. Y/N liked to dress the family in cute little Disney costumes. Finn didn't mind it. He knew Grace wouldn't be this young forever. Eventually, she'll want to dress apart from the family. The Demon hated it.

Last year, they dressed as the characters from Frozen. Grace wanted to be Elsa, so Y/N was Anna. Finn would be Christoph. It wasn't until a week before Halloween that Grace wanted the Demon to be Olaf. After going back and forth, the Demon finally obliged. He insisted it was to keep the peace, but they knew he was afraid of her.

"Not for a few more months, darling. Do you know what you want to dress as?"

"Ariel and the Demon will be Ursula," she answered. Not a hint of this being a joke could be heard. Her tiny finger pointed at him. The Demon's eyes widened. The tendrils around his face moved from side to side as he looked between the father and daughter.

"I think that is a great idea, sweetheart. I will let your mother know tonight," Finn smiled. He purposely ignored the baffled Demon.

"I'm not doing it," the Demon declined the ridiculous offer. He was forced to watch all the Disney movies with her. He hated it. None of the villains ever won.

"Gracie won't be this age forever,"

"I've heard the noises coming from your room at night. We'll have another one of these things soon enough,"

"It's just one night,"

"One night is how we got stuck with her and I-," the Demon stopped when Grace was in his face. Her face was a bright red. Tiny arms crossed over her chest.

"What did you say?" She asked. Finn had to hide his laugh. The tiny five year old bullying a Demon that used to rule a kingdom of hell with an iron fist.

The Demon gulped. "I can't wait to be Ursula,"

Grace smiled happily and hugged him. "Perfect,"

Y/N couldn't believe her daughter made the Demon King fold so easily. "It is kind of quiet tonight. Do you think he's still pouting?"

"Nah," Finn answered with a smile. "He is probably in her room to read her to sleep. If I had to guess, she's probably sleeping in his lap as we speak,"

"I don't believe you," she scoffed. "When did this start happening?"

"Around a week ago. Let me show you," Finn urged. The parents left their bed and tiptoed to their daughter's room. They hushed each other before opening the door. Y/N covered her mouth to muffle the sound of her shock.

Grace sat on the Demon's lap as he sat in the rocking chair. Her favorite stuffed animal clutched in her arms. A blanket covered them both. They were both sound asleep. A soft snore left the Demon's body. A copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar hung from his hand.

Y/N closed the door. "I think we should show them a picture of this the next time they complain about each other,"

[flow2024]

An early review I’m assuming has now been deleted since I can’t find it anywhere mentioned that there could’ve been a better use of Nile and Quynh, the spectre of the big bad immortal undermined the premise of the immortality itself and the main relationships of the first movie. Which doesn’t sound promising. But it also said there were some strong threads of connection so idk. Holding out hope whilst expecting the worst I guess?

i typed out most of this and then tumblr ate it so i'm typing it again and may skim over some stuff BUT: in essence: while i was watching tog earlier what jumped out to me was the fact that despite being a netflix action movie, with all that entails, and kind of generic in places (said with all the love in my heart) tog does have a very strong thematic undercurrent. both in the conclusion the film comes to, which is we're not meant to be alone, and in the way it treats killing with a certain weight that this kind of movie doesn't always do. immortality is an integral part but also not really, in that i think rucka at one point made a comment about it originally being kind of an experiment in being able to kill off characters in various looney toons ways and still have them survive but became a story more widely about life and death and the way death gives life meaning. etc etc. which is clear in the first film, i think, especially with andy's loss of immortality and nile having a bigger role. it definitely fumbles sometimes but overall it's strong and, fundamentally, it Has A Point.

tog 2, however. first off when it comes to nile and quynh: noriko's arc in the comics is difficult to apply to tog 2, namely because it is in active conflict with andy's rediscovery of her purpose which has already happened, and because quynh is too complicated of a character to tie up easily in 100 mins. she's not a villain you can drop 17 storeys and call it a day. her anger is fully understandable. akasha is an easy big bad to have because she will be disposable at the end of the day and therefore leave a neater conclusion. plus andy has already had her purpose arc so introducing akasha means introducing new information (it seems?) which will shift things and allow for the we help humans vs humans suck conflict. etc

i wouldn't be super surprised if they just didn't know what to do with nile. she's a foil to andy in the first movie and helps that arc by setting up a mentor + mentee, ex immortal + new immortal, old + young kind of thing but that arc again is over. so like. beyond her settling into immortality and becoming more integral to the group i don't know how much she's going to get to do, especially in competition with a lot more information and characters in 100 minutes. which sucks because I Want To See My Girl and i think elements of her plot line from force multiplied, i.e. the other side of depends on the century, learning that they have made bad choices and needing to reconcile that with herself could be interesting. i haven't seen any of the clips by the way and if that's where they seem to be going don't tell me i want to go in blind! but yeah. i hope she's there more but if not ill be very annoyed. the being half cropped out of the thumbnail ain't boding well

generally i fear tog 2 is going to suffer from a bad case of missing the point. its general plot seems to revolve around Immortality Information We Don't Know Yet, but again, the immortality isn't and has never been the point. it's a storytelling device. it's used to explore purpose, whether what we do matters, etc. it's Not The Point Of The Story. but from the trailer alone (which may well be misleading, they often are) i fear it's not going to have that same strength in its themes that made the first film stand out and instead become a generic superhero action thing. as a recorded skeptic. i'll be having fun regardless and my expectations are on the ground so if it is good i'll be pleasantly surprised but i also haven't actually processed that the movie is going to be real and on my screen so who knows maybe it'll be awesome. at the end of the day, it will feature The Character on my screen which is really all that matters

[vickyvicarious]

When a couple of hours had passed I heard something stirring in the Count's room, something like a sharp wail quickly suppressed; and then there was silence, deep, awful silence, which chilled me. With a beating heart, I tried the door; but I was locked in my prison, and could do nothing. I sat down and simply cried.

This is heartbreaking, of course.

But all the more so because it implies that Dracula didn't just come straight in through a window and hand over the child to be eaten. This time is different from before in several ways, all of which seem designed to taunt Jonathan with his own powerlessness even more.

The feeding itself appears to be happening in the Count's room, right by Jonathan's. Or at the very least, he came in through his own window, and then silenced the child and carried it away to be eaten elsewhere. Previously, he seems to have come back in through his own window and then walked through the castle to deliver the baby to the vampire women, but I don't think they were actually supposed to be in that room either. I suspect they're meant to eat down where they sleep usually, because then it's easy for Dracula to come in his own window and go down the stairs to deliver their meals more in the chapel area. There's also a ready place to dispose of a body there if I recall correctly. So Dracula coming in through his own window isn't necessarily any kind of taunt so much as his own standard procedure. But the children being so quiet while they are carried in the bag suggests some kind of hypnotic control to me, or at least gagging/smothering them somehow - they'd be wailing or screaming for help on the trip over too otherwise, instead of only making any noise when the bag is opened. So the fact that Jonathan hears a cry, even if it is quickly silenced, suggests to me that some amount of feeding or at least 'unwrapping' is happening right next door to him. Where he can hear (and then hear the even more horrifying absence of sound) but not reach, thanks to his locked door.

But Jonathan's door was not locked when Dracula left. I suppose it's possible that Dracula ordered the vampire ladies to ensure he was closed up in his bedroom before he returned, and the hypnosis scare was just their way of doing so. I don't really believe that though, because a) Jonathan's breaking free seemed genuine, and b) Dracula doesn't seem to trust them to get that close to him as a rule. I suspect their little dust dancing was not quite allowed, any more than they were supposed to look at or touch him even when he went out of bounds before.

So that means that Dracula probably came back and then locked Jonathan in afterward, right? In which case, he would likely be carrying the child right up to Jonathan's door with him, right up to the very threshold where Jonathan could try to intervene - and then locking him in so he couldn't.

And this is all on top of the mindfuck inherent in Dracula dressing up in Jonathan's clothes to go out and do this. Not only did Dracula ruin any local credibility as a human Jonathan may have had left after months imprisoned in his castle, not only did he potentially create 'eyewitnesses' to Jonathan posting his letters, not only did he potentially convince a mother that Jonathan was the one who kidnapped and killed her child... on top of all that, he did all this in Jonathan's own clothes. He did all this just - but only just - out of reach.

Jonathan sits down and simply cries. Because there is nothing at all he can do, and he has been made brutally aware of this again and again and again. And all this happens even before the mother chases after. Imagine how aware of both their helplessness he was. He knew her child was already dead before she even arrived. He knew she wouldn't believe him if he tried to tell her anything, he knew he couldn't save her either. He couldn't do a single thing, and she blamed him for that, and despite being forced into this inactivity on some level perhaps he blames himself too. Perhaps he is jealous of her - the bravery to act despite certain death being the result of acting; and the release that death brings. But he still wants to live, even if he has no hope he will. And he also surely is aware that Dracula would take personal care of his death or at least give him to the vampire ladies, that his fate would be the same as her child, and his soul would be forfeit as well as his life.

Meanwhile, Dracula didn't even care enough to go down and kill her himself. She was utterly disposable to him, not even of interest as sustenance. It's so deeply utterly cruel - but perhaps Jonathan is a bit jealous of that as well.

[centuryberry]

Hi!

Going back to my question from before.

I realized that in order for Xiaotian's fate to develop the second option, he must be Yue's age. After all, when Yue and Wukong went to the banquet, Xiaotian would have become the head of the clan during that time. How would this happen in my version? When LBD infiltrated the Clan as Uncle Xiaotian's wife (sorry, I forgot his name), and her Slave took over the body of this monkey, Shangzha and Xiaotian would be forced to descend the mountain to greet their new daughter-in-law and aunt. LBD was looking for not only strength and influence in the clan, but also a "champion" whom she could raise and raise, because she saw in her fate that a child with an ideal body and potential, but with an imperfect character and mindset, had appeared in this clan. And the moment LBD saw Xiaotian and wanted to "adopt" him, Shanzha turned on protective mother mode and engaged in battle with her false brother. Xiaotian, however, because of his fear of the main villain of his game and for his aunt's life, had a nervous breakdown and released a powerful wave of chi that destroyed the witch's control over the Slave (as in Season 5 with the Wukong hoop). Then Xiaotian comes to his senses and takes control of the fake uncle, which is why LBD was forced to escape and cry out to Heaven for help. But that was not the case! Yue is already there with her father, and she will not allow him to increase her strength without punishment, and harm poor Shanzha and her charming nephew.

Although, in that case, Xiaotian will probably come to take the Slave into custody of his clan and keep an eye on him. And due to the fact that he is still a cub, Shanzha will have to temporarily take over the management of the clan and protect Xiaotian with all her might, which is probably many times more dangerous than her fate from the otome game.

Skadite, what do you think about this? I'm interested in your opinion or your suggestions.

And another question. It is similar to the previous one.

How would things have turned out if Yue and Xiaotian had changed not only the place and time, but also the BODIES in which they were born? In other words, Xiaotian would have been born in Yue's body, and Yue in Xiaotian's body.

How would Xiaotian handle his new life as a monkey girl and prevent tragedies in his game? How would Yue dispose of her life in the body of a monkey boy? Would she have gone to the Mountain of Flowers And Fruits first, or would she have gone on a trip first?

Sorry for any mistakes.

I think that the events would pretty much play out for Xiaotian like that or something similar. I never really put that much thought into it, haha. (My priority is mostly on the main fic so I don't exactly have my own additions or comments to your scenario.)

As for your second question, they'd trans their genders, of course. Xiaotian and Yue, while flexible with how they present themselves when the situation calls for it, are firmly (he/him) and (she/her) respectively. I mean, they're fine with they/them pronouns being used on them too.

Xiaotian in Yue's situation would barely - and I mean BARELY - get out alive. The only situation I can see him have some sort of upper hand is if he is super vocal about being a boy and Yishan (who needs an heir to boost Sangshen's position and someone to take his place as Clan heir) *runs* with it. Yishan is more involved in his child's life in this scenario. Well, until Sangshen dies and then all bets are off. Xaiotian makes it out alive in the end, though. Through pure shounen hero energy. Xiaotian is far more willing to be adopted by Wukong by the time he's ferried over to FFM.

Yue, on the other hand, just...travels. Explores the world. Probably ends up in Wan's tower as an assistant. Or works for the Bull Family. Somehow, she and Xiaotian meet again (probably when he sets out to play the role of the "game main character" since Yue isn't playing that role) and it's all tears and hugs. Her side of things is less chaotic and she gets to just live her life and do what she wants.

[shisekibo]

[Story Translation] Chapter One - A Conference of Nobles [Episode Two: Part One]

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- Grosvenor House - Main Residence -

Lucas, Haures and I are attending a meeting at the Grosvenor family residence.

Finlay:

“I appreciate you taking the time to be here when you're so busy. Lucas, Haures."

Finlay:

“And you, Master of the Devil Butlers... Thank you."

Choices:

“Th-thank you..."

Finlay:

“Now, let us make our vow before we begin..."

Haures:

“In accordance with the charters of the House of Grosvenor, I swear to tell no lie and to hide nothing."

Lucas:

“I swear."

Choices:

“I swear too."

Finlay:

“Good. I do wish I could have held this meeting sooner."

Finlay:

“I was simply too busy for it to be any sooner than today."

Finlay:

“I have heard an abridged version of what happened. I think I understand the majority of what happened..."

Finlay:

“But I would like for you to tell me what happened on that expedition 3 months ago."

Finlay:

“Everyone I has called today is of the highest ranks within the Grosvenor family."

Finlay:

“We have the power to call the army to do our bidding."

Finlay:

“That is how important today's meeting is. Please keep this in mind while you tell me everything."

Haures:

“As you wish, Lord Finlay."

Haures:

“We were searching for the missing troop of Sardeis soldier, just as we had been requested to do."

Haures:

“To make it brief... This request was nothing more than a trap set by the Sardeis family."

Haures:

“They planned to assassinate the Devil Butlers."

Finlay:

“Yes, that appears to be the case. As expected of the Sardeis family."

Finlay:

“They wanted to eliminate the Devil Butlers and, with you, the authority of the Grosvenor Family."

Finlay:

“They'd do anything if they knew it would bring them a day closer to returning to their former glory."

Nobles:

“Goodness... That Sardeis lot never changes."

Nobles:

“We need to make sure they pay for this, don't we?"

Finlay:

“Order, order."

Finlay:

“This is not the first time they have acted this way. We would all like to avoid all out war, I'm sure."

Finlay:

“What we can do is write them another letter expressing our dissatisfaction with their behaviour."

Nobles:

“But why? Such a weak diplomatic response is only going to make them underestimate us further!"

Nobles:

“Exactly! What he said!"

Finlay:

“Everyone, be calm. We should avoid all out war with the Sardeis Family for now."

Finlay:

“Our army is no match for theirs."

Finlay:

“The reason they are unable to declare war upon us themselves is because we have the Devil Butlers."

Nobles:

“Ugh... You're not wrong..."

Lucas:

“Lord Finlay. May I speak?"

Finlay:

“Lucas. You may."

Lucas:

“The Sardeis Family refuses to dirty their own hands. They let a group of mercenaries called the Black Snakes do their bidding."

Lucas:

“Even if we do retaliate..."

Lucas:

“They will simply place the blame on the Black Snakes, or claim that their subordinates acted without orders."

Finlay:

“Haha. I agree. The Sardeis Family are very thorough in their actions."

Finlay:

“Now then, I suppose we have discussed this issue enough."

Finlay:

“Today is not only about the Sardeis Family."

Finlay:

“Isn't that right, Haures?"

Haures:

“Yes... After that, we were attacked by a group of Angels."

Haures:

“We were able to dispose of them without issue but... A mysterious man suddenly came down from the sky."

Finlay:

“A man came down from the sky... And, by that, you mean he was flying?"

Haures:

“Yes... He was flying."

Haures:

“He had Angel wings and was glowing from every inch of his body."

Haures:

“And then he spoke to us. He said "I am an Angel."

Finlay:

“I see..."

Haures:

“We were shocked, but we immediately tried to apprehend him."

[kianaisspiraling]

Immortal GIGS Crew Phasmophobia AU

GIGS phasmo AU where they're basically just a group of retired immortals having fun :D

Impulse and Skizz started working for this ghost hunting company, and since they can't die, instead of reading the manual they decided to just fuck around and find out.

In truth, they kinda just showed up and started taking jobs. The company was gonna find these intruders and punish them at first, but when the spectacular results started coming in, the higher-ups hesitantly decided to let it go, since none of their actual employees were brave enough to take the cases Impulse and Skizz did.

Eventually, their results from one investigation were left with a letter requesting payment, since they didn't wanna keep using the cheap starter equipment in the van they "borrowed." So if the company slips an envelope full of cash into their own mailbox every time they receive a report for the mystery workers to take, and sometimes equipment disappears from storage with cash in its place, they simply would look the other way.

Later they drag Grian, Scar, and Gem into their shenanigans and they also fuck around and find out.

To the company, the GIGS Crew is their best team, even if they don't know much about them. They always take their hardest, most fatal jobs, and walk out completely fine.

Little do they know these eldritch entities die repeatedly and they scream like little girls. What is considered an almost certainly fatal job for any regular person, is just a game to the GIGS.

For example, all manuals say to snap pictures of cursed items, and safely return them to HQ to be disposed of in a contained area. GIGS crew though? None of them have the self control to not use those. Every single one of them would pull every tarot card for fun and you know it. Manual says to under no circumstances touch a summoning circle. GIGS does not read the manual.

They even set some rules early on, afterall this is a game to them, and what fun is a game if you can't die? So essentially they declared that if a ghost was to hit you with what would be a killing blow, you have to go into spectral form, in which you detach from your body and hover about like a spectator. Think Dr. Strange. The only thing they're allowed to do in this form is pick stray items up, and if everyone "dies" they have to jump ship and come back again later.

They can be 'revived' by the monkey paw or something too. Thing is, despite the fact that they don't need to, they still say, "I wish for Life," before the 'dead' person returns to their body. If this causes some recently dead guy a block away to suddenly wake up fine, sue them. They're causing miracles over here, be grateful!

Now imagine something happens one day that causes a human mortal that also works for the company in some regard to bare witness to GIGS' unhinged method of investigation. They're playing with cursed objects like toys, purposefully triggering hunts, and—

Unnamed is sitting in the van watching the camera closely when it happens. They've been tasked as a fifth, no wait, sixth member of the legendary GIGS crew for the day, since there's apparently a girl named Gem that subs in for Scar half the time. They're thinking that, sure, this team's been a bit reckless so far, but who are they to judge? These guys are THE professionals, after all. However, this viewpoint quickly gets decimated.

"HahAHA Scar's dead!" Unnamed's head snaps up at Grian's outburst. They, being the normal person they are, respond reasonably, "Wait, agent Scar is dead-?!" A pause followed by a realization, "Why the hell are you laughing-?!"

Grian, who came back into the van for candles since they were going to do an Onryo test before it started hunting, suddenly remembers that humans don't think death is funny. Right. Need to fix that slip up.

"Uhm... out of shock, I think?" Wow, A+ excuse, he mentally berates himself. Think Grian, think! Humans have that thing called grief, right? And isn't the first stage of that denial? Bingo! "I.. I'm sorry, I think I'm just.. in denial?" Grian wants to slap himself. Great idea, horrible execution. Unnamed clearly didn't buy it.

Thankfully, that mess was interrupted, "Hey guys, I found the monkey paw. Should I use it to bring Scar back?" Impulse says over the radio. Skizz and Grian are quick to agree, the latter also using the distraction to rush out of the van and that conversation with the candles.

It takes a moment to click, but Unnamed suddenly realizes, "Wait, are you guys gonna use a cursed item to bring Agent Scar back-?! Look, I know you all are mourning, but that is under all circumstances forbidden!" They take a breath in disbelief, "That could have unforeseen consequences!"

Skizz pipes up, not even trying to be subtle, "Well, duh. The consequences are what makes it fun!" Unnamed is interrupted by Impulse before they can rant about how bad of an idea this is—, "Yeah you say that until you're the one that has to deal with them," he chuckles.

Skizz, in blind yet playful rage, bites the bait, "Fine then! Give me the monkey paw, and I'll wish Scar back to life myself!"

Skizz does this and dies, and they can practically hear him complaining from beyond the grave. Impulse snaps a picture of his corpse as they make fun of the position he's in, his back bent backward. Unnamed is frozen in shock in the van as they listen to Skizz's friends, including a newly revived Scar, laugh at their own friend's demise. Oh god, they're surrounded by psychopaths. These guys take all the hardest jobs, of course they've gone crazy—

Unnamed, after spiraling for an unknown amount of time, looks over to the activity chart to see that there is a hunt going on. This gives them some time to collect their thoughts, only for that little composure to immediately be shattered when as soon as the hunt ends, Grian barks out a laugh, "Oh Scar! He's died AGAIN!", "Oh nooo!" Impulse follows along with a chuckle. Unnamed is on the verge of hyperventilating.

The two remaining GIGS return to the van and ignore Unnamed's impending panic attack. Grian tells Impulse that the hunt started right after the third candle blew out, so he thinks it's an Onryo. "I mean we do already have orbs, but I wasn't getting freezing temps and that ghost just wasn't answering spirit box." Impulse counters.

"Listen, I know I was spirit boxin' it pretty good,"—Unnamed shudders at that. The second-hand cringe they felt listening to Grian's "WHERE ARE YOUUU-?!" was indescribable—"but my gut is really telling me it's an Onryo! Besides, we've had ghosts that just refused to talk before."

"Your gut is usually right," Impulse mutters. "Look, we've got one of two evidence and a successful Onryo test, so I say we gag since Scar and Skizz are dead." Grian says. Impulse still looks unsure, "I just feel like it's too soon. One evidence is hardly enough, and that Onryo test could be a fluke."

They have completely forgotten Unnamed is there at this point, and they don't exactly feel like attracting attention to themself as they wilt like a flower in the corner, pondering their life choices.

Grian relents a bit, "Okay how about this, we ask Scar and Skizz if we should gag or continue investigating, fair?" Impulse nods, "Fair."

Unnamed looks up a little, concerned on how exactly they plan to consult their dead friends. They're beginning to think there's a high likelihood they'll quit tonight, and they're definitely going to need a therapist after all this.

Impulse speaks up over the radio despite them all being in the truck, "Alright guys, come get your clipboards!" Unnamed stares on in something akin to horror as two of the clipboards up on the wall start hovering. Impulse's voice is somehow too loud and too quiet at the same time, "Alright, throw your clipboards on the keyboard if we should continue, and throw them on the floor if we should gag."

Both clipboards are now being repeatedly picked up and tossed on the floor of the van by an invisible force. 'Forces,' they correct themself mentally, as it slowly dawns on them that these ghosts are actually Scar and Skizz, and isn't THAT a mind-twister?

Impulse looks slightly disappointed but smiles good-naturedly anyway, "You guys wanna gag? Alrighty then, check off Onryo and let's go!"

This is the moment that Impulse suddenly remembers Unnamed's existence, looking slightly worried at their lack of input, "You okay?" He turns his head, "Grian don't go yet, Unnamed hasn't given their opinion." Grian grumbles out a 'fine', and Impulse looks back at them, "You wanna gag, or should we contin–" Unnamed interrupts, "Just get me outta here please," they near-whisper.

Impulse looks them over and remembers that humans aren't meant to be that pale and hesitantly asks, "You uh... feeling sick?" He looks over to Grian for help, and Unnamed could swear they heard Grian sassily mumble, "Don't look at me, I dunno how humans work either," but they had to be hearing things, because that just doesn't make sense, surely.

"Impulse, lets just go and pass Unnamed onto someone who actually knows what they're doing," Grian grumbles, clearly frustrated. Impulse still looks concerned (at least he's trying), but concedes since, yeah, they really don't know what they're doing, do they?

As Grian starts the truck, Unnamed notices that Scar and Skizz's bodies are suddenly in the truck. Did– did Grian leave while Impulse looked them over? That had only lasted for a few seconds though, Grian couldn't possibly have dragged them in in that time, could he? It's like they were just teleported in here. Unnamed is really going to need that therapist, and maybe some kind of hallucination medication too...

While staring into space and down at the keyboard in misery, Unnamed distantly hears the sounds of someone cracking their joints and grunting noises to accompany it. They fully snap to attention, however, when they hear the people's voices.

Scar makes a sound of discomfort as he snaps his neck back into place, "Oh void, gonna feel that in the mornin'," he mutters to himself. Skizz on the other hand lets out a whoop at the satisfying crack in his back, before immediately thrusting into bickering with Impulse.

"Dipple-Dop, you killed me!" Skizz exclaims, and Unnamed gets the feeling that they should cover their ears, like a child does when their parents fight. "ME-?! You're the one who used the monkey paw!" Impulse retorts. Skizz, "Well, you shouldn't have given it to me!" Impulse, "But you literally asked me for it!" Skizz, "Well, I wouldn't have if you didn't instigate me!" Impulse, "Oh, come on! You..."

Unnamed tunes them out and focuses on Scar and Grian, all thoughts having left their head out of pure shock, believing this must be some twisted fever dream. It makes sense, they think, they have been tasked with reviewing GIGS' reports for the past month after all.

In truth, the only reason Unnamed is here in the first place is because Skizz didn't read a form before signing it. With their previous check, GIGS received a form that was asking about sending someone to monitor and review their methods and see if they're fit to formally become employees. It was really just an effort to get to know something about these mysterious volunteers, though.

Skizz, however, just skimmed the part gushing about how much the company appreciates their hard work and the benefits of becoming real hires, not actually reading the part about the employee evaluation, assuming they were just going to get the rewards. He signed it and wrote down the GIGS Crew email address he created a minute ago, hence why Unnamed is now here. Yippie.

They tune into Grian and Scar's conversation as they vaguely register Impulse and Skizz's continued, albeit quieter, bickering in the background. Scar is griping about the crick in his neck, "Why do you guys always have to leave a guy in the most uncomfortable positions, huh?" Grian responds blunty with zero hesitation, "Because it's funny," he snorts.

Unnamed tunes them out too as their brain starts to reboot enough to process that they are supposed to be dead. Why are they not dead-?!

Grian notices Unnamed staring in the corner and clears his throat above everyone else's chatter, making a gesture towards them once he has their attention. Unnamed can feel their heart sink straight through the floor, and a metaphorical noose tighten around their neck.

He looks over at Scar and Skizz, "You two really couldn't wait to get back up, could you? Remember, we. have. COMPANY!" Grian punctuates each word in that statement with a clap.

The two sheepishly look over at Unnamed while Impulse looks mildly panicked. Scar and Impulse were cooking up some half-baked excuses, and Skizz is malfunctioning when Grian sighs and relents a bit, "Okay, we're really not being that subtle anyway, are we?"

Scar is spewing a ridiculous explanation in the background, "They uh, shocked us back to life while you weren't looking, yeah!" A whisper from Skizz shuts him up, "I'm no expert, but I don't think that's how that works, buddy." Scar deflates a bit, "But that's all I've got..." Skizz rubs a comforting hand on his back, "I know, dude, at least ya' tried."

Before Unnamed can get enough of a grip on themself and ask what in the hell is happening, the ride ends, simultaneously having taken an eternity and also been way too short.

Grian slips out of the driver seat and ushers them outside quickly, them now standing in front of the company's main building looking lost. "Wait!" Impulse stops Grian from driving off, "You forgot your employee evaluation sheet. It looks oddly blank..." Impulse trails off before snapping out of his stupor, "Sorry! Didn't mean to pry. I'm probably not meant to read that, huh?" He slips the report into Unnamed's hand when they don't take it on their own.

"Oh, and would you mind taking in our report for this job too?" Despite the lack of a response, Impulse slips the report into their hands anyway, "Thanks, pleasure working with you! Sorry for any disturbances we many of caused." Impulse calls out as he steps back into the vehicle, Grian driving away as soon as the door closes, as if driving away will solve all their problems.

Unnamed starts to mindlessly wander inside the building, robotically turning in the report and submitting their evaluation sheet for review, one to the standard job review department and one to HQ. 'It really is a bit blank, huh?' They think passively. They're not really there, still feeling like they're floating in nothingness, but it's the first coherent thought they've had regarding reality in a while, so they'll take anything at this point.

Before they know it, they've found their way into the overnight stay room. Most investigations occur at night, so they have two rooms with sectioned off areas, each area containing a twin bed and a nightstand. It would look uncannily like a hospital if the nightstands were metal instead of wood.

They look up at the clock in the room and distantly note that its 2:17 am. Barely acknowledging that, they ungracefully flop onto the nearest available bed and pass out unceremoniously, not even taking off their shoes. The last thing to cross their mind before drifting off into a dreamless sleep is absolute certainty that this must just be a really strange nightmare induced by lack of proper sleep, and with that, they are at peace.

~

Unnamed hazily blinks their eyes open the next morning to see a silhouette sitting on their bedside, vaguely recognizing them as their friend, Unidentified. They can't focus on that though, only signing in relief now that that disturbing dream was over, writing it off as nerves for the upcoming job with GIGS. They're probably completely normal people, if a bit unorthodox.

This illusion is quickly shattered, though, because as soon as Unnamed is conscious enough to listen, their friend speaks, "So, how was it?" Unidentified stares at them with clear excitement, bouncing up and down a bit where they sat.

Unnamed, still pitifully oblivious, tilts their head in confusion, "How was what?" It's Unidentified's turn to be confused, "What do you mean, 'How was what?' The job with GIGS, obviously!" Unidentified exclaims incredulously.

Unnamed's face slowly morphs into one of unbridled horror as they realize that that wasn't a dream.

The next thing they know, they've sat up, fully awake, getting up and brushing themself off. Unidentified quickly switches from excited to worried, "Unnamed, are you okay?"

Unnamed can barely recall how to string together the sounds they call language to reply, "Yeah, I uh... I just need to go report something to HQ." Before Unidentified can respond, Unnamed has rushed out the door, straightening out their attire so that they look at least somewhat presentable in front of the company's head.

They file a request for an immediate meeting with the higher-ups, stressing the importance of it. They add that it has to do with Team GIGS as an afterthought, hoping it'll peak their curiosity.

And so Unnamed sits there, standing in the lobby with pumping adrenaline as they come to terms with a stark truth:

The GIGS crew is not human.

~•~

Bonuses!

POV GIGS Before:

"Look, Grian, I know you don't wanna leave the van, but this time you have to!" Impulse tries to reason, though he knows he's fighting a losing battle.

Grian refuses to relent, gaze boring into Impulse with several Eyes, "But whyyyy?!"

Impulse lets out an exhausted sigh, he's been at this for a while, "You know why, an inspector is going to be hunting with us this time, and they're human! We have to give them van duty or else they could die in the house. Like actually die."

Grian let's out an indignant whine, his wings puffing out in defiance, "And? There's gonna be five of us, can't we both just be in the van or something?"

"Grian, you and I both know that out of everyone here, except for maybe Gem, you get along with humans the least. You don't even try to be friendly!" Impulse counters. He can see Grian's resolve beginning to falter as he continues, "You don't wanna be stuck in the van with a 'strange mortal' the whole time, do you?" He uses air quotes, trying to speak Grian's language, and it's working.

Grian visibly deflates a little bit, crossing his arms and looking away as he bites out a bitter, "no." He's staring with only two eyes now, so that's progress Impulse thinks.

Skizz finally cuts in, not having wanted to get involved when Grian was still yelling, but will now that he's somewhat calm, "Listen buddy, it's not like you've never left the van before! You do it whenever Gemstone joins us, and sometimes when a bunch of us are dead!" Skizz chuckles a bit, "It's nothin' you haven't done before, G-Sharp."

Grian fully deflates this time, tension releasing from his body as looks at his feet and heaves a sigh of his own, "Fiiiine. The stupid human can have the vaaaan." He pouts, but it's the best they're going to get so they take it.

Impulse finally lets out a breath of relief, glad that he's avoided the possible murder of their inspector. Void, he really feels like a single mom sometimes.

~•~

POV GIGS After:

Grian is most definitely driving faster than the speed limit allows, not that he particularly cares. That went horribly, the human saw Scar and Skizz revive themselves for Void's sake!

In truth, they were never really dead. They really just couldn't bend their death-related rules they set for a day, huh? He has the urge to bury his face in the steering wheel as he drives. "This is why I avoid mortals," he grumbles to himself.

~

When they arrive at their designated "ghost hunting lobby," as they call it, they all devolve into various states of stress.

Grian face-plants into sofa and screams into a throw pillow, Eyes forming and popping around his head like lava. Impulse is pacing around the room like a maniac, pointed tail swishing back and forth in distress. Scar sits on the armchair, fiddling with his cane and pushing a hand through his hair, his eyes practically stapled open, gazing into space. Skizz just kind of stands there, his tail also swishing in anxiety as he dreads the inevitable.

Scar finally shatters the silence, "Now, I don't wanna point fingers, but," he points at Skizz, "kinda your fault, Skizz." There it is, there's what Skizz was dreading.

He tries to defend himself anyways, "Alright listen, I know that most of this is my fault for signing that dumb form, but you can't deny that we all messed up at least a little bit."

Impulse stops pacing at that. Grian doesn't move from his misery on the sofa, not reacting at all.

"I- yeah, Skizz is right. We all kind of screwed up. I think our main problem was how casually we acknowledged death. It's surprisingly easy to forget that humans don't view life as a game..." Impulse rubs the back of his neck, guilty.

Skizz still looks apologetic though, "Yeah, just know I'm really sorry about that. Maybe don't put me on mail duty anymore."

Scar stands up, his skin having taken on a blue blue sheen, his edges a little sharper, and small translucent wings behind him. "It's okay man, I probably would have done the same thing," he picks up a Jellie that's winding in between his legs, "plus we both kinda revived while Unnamed was right there, so you can't take all the blame for that."

"Thanks dude, that means a lot." Skizz slings an arm over Scar's shoulder.

Grian finally sits up, "So what happens now?" All heads turn to him, their stares questioning.

Eyes have never bothered Grian, since he has more of them, so he stands up fully and elaborates, "Well, within the next few days, the company is gonna know we're not human. What exactly do we do now?" A contemplating pause followed by a sad voice, "Do we... have to quit ghost hunting?"

The room goes deathly quiet. They... didn't think about that. Even Skizz and Scar look crestfallen. It's Impulse who pipes up, "No, we don't." he says surprisingly self-assured, all eyes now on him.

Impulse continues on, "I mean, Skizz and I just kinda showed up one day and they couldn't get rid of us, them knowing what we are isn't gonna change that. How exactly would they stop us?" The crew looks a little less depressed at that.

"Plus," Impulse looks hesitant for a moment, "Unnamed's reaction to death reminded me of how fragile human life really is, so even if we're only doing this for fun," he looks to each of them, "it makes me feel like we're protecting them, even if just by taking the lethal jobs."

Skizz perks up at the notion, and Scar breaks out into a grin, waltzing over to Impulse and slinging an arm over his shoulder. Jellie wanders off to go paw at Grian, who's sat back down, still squeezing that throw pillow.

Scar has regained his aura of grandeur, as he joins Impulse in cheering them up, "Yeah, I like that! We're helping by dying where they can't!" He looks very excited at the thought.

It's Skizz's turn to join the building huddle, an arm finding it's way on Impulse's other shoulder. "Oh yeah! Good guy Skizzleman, saving mortals from the horrors of death!" He pumps a fist in the air.

Grian gets up, Jellie trailing behind, and reluctantly joins the hug, arms around Scar and Skizz and his wings around all of them. "I don't care what happens to those humans, but whatever," grian mumbles. Impulse just smiles fondly at him, because despite how he pretends not to, Impulse can see just how much Grian truly cares. He doesn't have to understand mortals to care for them.

The soft moment is interrupted by a ding from Skizz's phone. They untangle their arms as Skizz checks what it is.

He perks up excitedly, "Oh, it's our report's review for the job!" He chuckles a bit, "If one good thing came out of signing that form, it's that we now get almost instant results!"

He clicks on the email, eager to see if they guessed right. Spoiler, they did not.

"What-?!" His face contorts to one of disbelief, "A Mare-?! How?" Grian shoots up at Skizz's outburst, clearly upset.

"What-?! Yeah how-?! That thing wasn't turning off any lights!" He squawks indignantly, a few Eyes floating over Skizz's shoulder to read it himself.

Scar looks wholly unaffected, "Eh, I don't really know how we got Onryo in the first place, I was too busy being dead."

Impulse seems to slowly come to a conclusion, "Well, if you think about it, we weren't really turning the lights on to begin with," his voice picks up a bit, "We were putting so many candles out for the Onryo test, that—"

Skizz finishes, "We stopped turning on the breaker 'cause the candlelight was enough!"

None of them have to turn around to see Grian facepalming, the scream of frustration enough for them to paint that picture themselves, "I hate this game!"

Grian isn't done with his rampage, "But wait, doesn't Mare also need spirit box?" He looks to Impulse for confirmation, and continues once he gets a nod, "But I did spirit box so well though! I had great coverage."

Impulse puts up a hand placatingly, "Yeah, I agree, you did spirit box pretty good, but we were on Nightmare, so spirit box probably just probably wasn't one of the two random evidence."

Grian crosses his arms, "Or maybe it's because someone," he casts a glare at Impulse, though he means nothing malicious by it, "just had to prestige, leaving us with shoddy level 1 equipment." He sighs however, "But you're probably right. We didn't really look that hard for Ghost Writing, did we?"

He wanders off to grumble to himself a little longer, and they all laugh at Grian's pity-party. They end up sitting on sofa together for a while, just chatting about things they couldn't talk about while Unnamed was there.

Impulse is telling a story from Hermitcraft earlier that day, but he stops when Gem comes up in it, paling, "Oh Void..."

Impulse's face unravels into one of dread, a realization forming, "Gem's gonna smack us all upside the head for this." Oh. Oh no. They all shudder in unison. They're screwed.

~•~

Thanks for reading my little self-indulgent AU-idea turned into a fic!

This was originally meant to just be an AU idea, but I blinked and I'd written a whole fic, so yeah.

I think I'll edit this a bit and post it on Ao3 too of that interests anyone.

Feel free to use the idea however you want, just tag me, I wanna see what you do :)

[voldsoys]

i wanna hear about serial killer tyler…

hes so weird and off putting and fucked up and I wanna learn more about him. hes sat in my head rent free since i read the fic and id love to hear your other thoughts about him (if you want to share-)

oh boy, anon. this is a dangerous thing to ask. you wanna know more about my boy, eh? i apologize in advance if this gets long-winded. i have a lot of thoughts about this guy.

in case anyone is confused, serialkiller! tyler is from my fic it's getting dark and the highway's clear on ao3.

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT AND WOULD LIKE TO.

here is the pinterest board that i used for inspo while i was writing.

🖤 to start, just for fun, this is tyler in my head.

🖤 tyler's body is so incredibly emaciated and thin, his bones protrude and he's constantly covered in bruises and cuts, both self-inflicted and otherwise. he eats, sure, but it's never anything nutritious and even then, most of his food he ends up giving to rosie. (she loves turkey, you know! she's a good girl.) he struggles to walk, he struggles to run, if anyone were to hug him, it would hurt and they'd be able to feel every bone in his body. it's a miracle, if you could even call it that, that he's alive and functioning.

🖤 tyler keeps a box full of polaroid photos of his previous victims. i never included a scene of him taking a photo of josh, because i think, in his head, tyler never really considered josh a victim. he wasn't sure, until that final moment on the couch, with his head spinning and the smell of everything he ever wanted hitting him square in the face, where any of it was even going to end up. i don't think he wanted to kill josh, i think he wanted to consume josh. and not just physically. josh was doomed before he even realized it, and tyler was going to take everything inside of him and make it his own.

🖤 tyler considered very heavily the possibility that josh was never real in the first place. i tried to subtly hint at the theme of not knowing what reality was... and that's the thing about an unreliable narrator, isn't it? what can you even trust? is any of this even happening? is it all in his head? no, surely not... right? smoke a cigarette tyler, it'll all make sense.

🖤 speaking of, as im sure you can recall, tyler has a severe smoking addiction. i never explained why, but he smokes to keep himself grounded. along with the general comfort he gets from the nicotine, he smokes to ensure himself that he's alive, if he can feel the relief of the drugs in his lungs, then he'll know he hasn't fallen asleep and forgotten to wake up. can you blame him for smoking two at a time after his, uh.. encounter with josh?

🖤 tyler has a very strict and very intense set of rules he follows for himself when it comes to choosing, abducting, holding, and disposing of victims. he documents everything, every flaw, every success. he takes photos, recordings, and keeps mementos. he doesn't do this however, to remember or to honor his victims, he keeps them as reminder to himself that he knows what works. he knows exactly what to do, exactly which steps to follow to get it right every time. that's why with josh, when immediately things start going off-track, it completely knocks him on his ass.

🖤 tyler, my beloved baby boy, is nothing short of a fucking idiot. while i mean that with all the love in my heart, you'd be very foolish to underestimate him. he knows what he's doing. he knows the best possible move in every situation. he knows. shh... can you hear that?