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syrupfog · 6 days

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Ahhhhh. Soulmates AU where Sanji has built his whole life around the fact that somewhere out there he has a soulmate.

Like, it’s the only thing that kept him going, kept him moving forward. An entire childhood of being told by his siblings, by his father, that he’s unloveable—

And the only proof he has, after his mum’s gone, is that somewhere out there is someone who’s DESTINED to love him. The universe has SWORN it.

Even when he’s getting bruised and bloodied and told he’s worthless from the siblings who have all the love of their father.

Even when he spends his days in a dungeon, the light filtering in from the high window barely visible through his iron helmet, alone and cold.

Even when he’s slowly dying from starvation, stranded on a rock.

The one truth Sanji knows is that he has someone who loves him.

He spends his time at the Baratie flirting with anything that moves, but is thoroughly aware underneath it all that he’s worthless. That’s been drilled into him since birth.

If he’s able to make a woman happy for a moment, then he will, but that’s not for his own sake.

He feels confident, having had years to think on it, that there is one single person in the world who CAN love him. And Sanji feels sorry for them, because he knows he doesn’t deserve that love, but all the same he selfishly looks forward to finding them.

And then— he meets him.

It’s everything the books — and his mum — described it as. The world bursting into colour, the feeling of RIGHTNESS slotting into place. The man (that’s surprising) has green hair and three earrings and three swords and it feels like fate. It IS fate.

And then the man — Zoro — green hair and three earrings and the only thing Sanji has ever wanted, the person he’s centred his whole life around — he tells Sanji that he doesn’t believe in soulmates. Doesn’t want the universe to be in charge of his own destiny.

And Sanji breaks.

He— doesn’t know what to do with his life now. He joins the crew because Luffy asks, because the only thing he clings to right now is that SOMEONE wants him. But.

Zoro doesn’t.

His soulmate.

The only one MEANT for him.

And what does that say about Sanji?

He hates Zoro. HATES.

He fights him at every chance. Wages war with words and kicks.

He’s drowning inside. Unmoored. The knowledge that he’s entirely unloveable is a burden too great to bear.

They sail onward and Sanji cooks and fights and cooks and fights and drowns.

Something shifts at Thriller Bark.

Sanji’s there when Zoro attempts to sacrifice himself. And Sanji HATES him for it. He hates him because in all this time traveling together, try as he might, hate him as much as he does, Sanji’s never been able to stop loving him.

And if anyone’s going to die for this fucking crew, it’s going to be the one who’s so worthless he cant even have a soulmate who loves him back.

He knocks Zoro out of the way, faces Kuma head on.

The pain in his side a moment later feels like the Baratie betrayal all over again

Later, on the ship keeping vigil at Zoro’s bedside, he waits until Chopper’s gone and then weeps, face red and blotchy, ugly loud wails as he falls apart, staining the sheets with tears and snot. It should’ve been him.

He doesn’t stop until a hand wraps around his wrist.

“Cook,” Zoro says, voice painfully rough. “Why the fuck— did you do that?”

Sanji tries to hide his tears, replace them with that familiar anger. “What?” he asks. “Try to keep you alive?”

“No,” says Zoro. “Fucking— sacrifice yourself.”

Sanji frowns. “I’m the best option.”

Zoro, injured as he is, gapes at him. “You’re the cook,” he says. “We need you.”

Sanji tries to pull his wrist from Zoro grasp. “You need a cook,” he says. “You can find another.”

“You’re crew,” Zoro says.

“You can FIND. ANOTHER.” Sanji grits.

“No, we CAN’T,” Zoro yells, grip tightening.

“You already THREW ME AWAY!” Sanji screams.

Zoro’s fingers go slack and Sanji gets up and runs from the room.

It’s another week before Zoro can leave the infirmary but when he does, Sanji finds himself cornered in the kitchen, fast enough he can’t plan an escape.

Zoro’s face is set, serious, Sanji’s gearing up for a fight despite Zoro’s injuries.

He storms in and pushes Sanji up against the back wall. “I was WRONG,” he says, arms bracketing Sanji in.

“Wh— no,” Sanji squeaks, trying to find a way around him.

“Yes I WAS,” Zoro emphasises. “Franky says I was stupid and self protective, but I lied. I’ve loved you from the moment I fucking saw you.”

“No, you DIDN’T,” Sanji says, a rushing in his ears as he looks anywhere but AT Zoro. “Because I’m UNLOVEABLE.”

Zoro’s breath hitches, and he grabs Sanji’s chin in his hand, forcing him none too gently face to face.

“You’re fucking not,” he snarls. “Because *I* love you.”

Sanji REALLY can’t handle this. “Stop,” he pleads. “You can’t— it’s okay. I’ve always known that I’m worthless, you don’t have to try to convince me otherwise.” You already did, he thinks. “Just— I can’t handle you lying like this. To me.”

“You’re not—“ Zoro looks at him in shock. “You’re not WORTHLESS, Cook, what the hell? And you’re not unloveable, you’re not any of that shit! I thought you’d be a distraction from my dream, that’s why I said that shit, and I’m SORRY. But I was fucking wrong.”

Sanji is still shaking his head — or he’s just plain shaking now— because it’s too late. He KNOWS this is who he is, doesn’t understand why Zoro is LYING.

“It’s okay,” he says, making eye contact, placating. “I won’t let this — me— interfere with protecting the crew.”

Zoro growls and lunges forward, capturing Sanji’s lips in a bruising kiss. It hurts, Sanji gasps into his mouth, it— feels like truth.

“I love you,” Zoro says, low. “Tell me how I can prove it.”

Sanji chases the kiss before recovering. “I don’t know,” he says, small, uncertain.

Zoro grasps his arms, his waist, his neck, like a desperate man searching, he settles on cupping Sanji’s face, leaning his forehead against him. “I’ll prove it,” he says. “Something in your head is fucked up, Cook, it’s wrong. You’re loved. I fucking swear it.”

Sanji’s still shaking, tears rushing unbidden to his eyes. He doesn’t get it but — he wants it. Desperately he wants it. “Tell me again,” he says, voice small, scared.

“I love you,” Zoro says. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

Like a mantra.

Sanji kisses him, afraid to initiate, but Zoro responds with a vengeance. “

I love you,” Zoro says again, like a prayer.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” Someday, Sanji will know it intrinsically. But for now it’s good enough to hear it.

“I love you.”

#zosan #my writing

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lastoneout · 5 days

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"But they make merch sales and 55k/mo in patreon revenue" do you know how much it fucking costs to make several multi-episode, extremely professional shows a year while not expecting your employees to work overtime until they burn out, do the work of 3 people bcs you can't afford to hire adequate staff, settle for starvation wages, or all three?? Do you know how high the cost of living is just to afford the basics in fucking LOS ANGELES?? You really think they're pocketing all that rather than reinvesting it in their creative endeavors and treating their employees like human beings??

Y'all are acting like they're the next Jeff Bezos because it costs money to make art while ensuring everyone working on it gets to have a roof to sleep under and enough food to eat in one of the most expensive cities in the country?? They aren't even remotely the same, and it's fucking insanely out of touch to claim that they are and proves y'all have no concept of actual class politics aside from "money bad".

And again, I never hear people say this shit about Dropout. Do you know how much it costs to make even just ONE of those shows?? Do you remember how they had to let go of ALL their employees aside from like Sam and Brennan and only release one or two shows until they could make enough money to hire everyone back and actually pay them fairly while still making high quality entertainment?? Not to mention the costs of on-set covid tests and masks for the staff to keep their employees, crew, and actors safe?? Are they unethical greedy capitalists for having their own streaming service so they aren't punished by the notoriously homophobic anti-adult content shorts-are-the-future ass youtube algorithm for making long-form, raunchy, queer inclusive shows??

The double standard here is legit blowing my mind. Actual clown behavior.

#block the tag 'watcher drama' if you dont want to see me bitch about this anymore #I'm just pissed #watcher drama

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animentality · 4 months

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can I just talk about Godzilla Minus One and how it was absolutely fucking brilliant for a minute?

It centered around a disgraced kamikaze pilot who hesitated, who was scared to die, so sabotaged his own plane before he could fly out. and because he sabotaged his plane, a crew of engineers had to hang back at the base, to try and fix it.

and then of course, this being a Godzilla movie, Godzilla attacks. kills most of them, excluding him and an engineer, who immediately blames him. says that if he had just died, then the rest of them would still be alive too.

his "cowardice" saved his life, and he was haunted by it, ashamed of "betraying" his country simply by wanting to live.

he spent the whole movie struggling with survivors guilt and feeling like he let his country down just by continuing to breathe.

and he couldn't forget the men he saw die, and he can't escape memories of the war, because he's living in the shattered remains of Tokyo after it was bombed, the place he used to call home, where his community is gone and his family is dead, and there is no escaping the death and devastation.

and the people who are still living? they hate him. they blame him for the loss of the war. they blame him for not dying for them.

and because he's haunted by his past, he cannot live in the present.

the guilt of being alive is too tightly wound around his heart. it can't beat even once without him being reminded of all the people whose hearts were nothing but dust now, and the outcome of the war feels like it's solely laid upon his chest.

and that's all very heavy. and I cried.

but that wasn't what I cried at. Because it wasn't the hopelessness that had the most impact on me. it was the end of the movie, where he was given the choice to redeem himself. to die for his country this time, and save them from Godzilla.

and he said he was ready, he can do it this time, he will be the hero. he will lay down his life this time.

only...

...this time, the engineer, who called him a coward... designed his new plane for this mission. and he gave him an ejector seat.

and the movie says this:

"This country has treated life far too cheaply. Poorly armored tanks. Poor supply chains resulting in half of all deaths from starvation and disease. Fighter planes built without ejection seats and finally, kamikaze and suicide attacks. That's why this time I'd take pride in a citizen led effort that sacrifices no lives at all! This next battle is not one waged to the death, but a battle to live for the future."

And it's like...

Oh it's so corny, it's always corny, when the message of a story is simply, life is precious.

But I don't fucking care.

It was still brilliant. It still hits every time. That's what made me cry. Not the hopelessness or the sad things, but the way the movie could be so heavy... while also being hopeful. optimistic.

Everything about that movie was just so perfect. A Godzilla movie actually set immediately after WW2 is a genius idea. The post war devastation. The criticism of Japanese imperialism, the war, and the way it treated its own people, both at home and abroad. The condemnation of kamikaze attacks and the callous disregard for human life.

And the deeply human story, of a man who was afraid to live, after seeing so much death.

Choosing to die wasn't easy. But choosing to live was even harder.

#godzilla minus one #godzilla

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

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When you hear "fintech," think "unlicensed bank"

Tomorrow (May 2) I’ll be in Portland at the Cedar Hills Powell’s with Andy Baio for my new novel, Red Team Blues.

In theory, patents are for novel, useful inventions that aren’t obvious “to a skilled practitioner of the art.” But as computers ate our society, grifters began to receive patents for “doing something we’ve done for centuries…with a computer.” “With a computer”: those three words had the power to cloud patent examiners’ minds.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism

Patent trolls — who secure “with a computer” patents and then extract ransoms from people doing normal things on threat of a lawsuit — are an underappreciated form of “tech exceptionalism.” Normally, “tech exceptionalism” refers to bros who wave away things like privacy invasions by arguing that “with a computer” makes it all different.

These tech exceptionalists are the legit face of tech exceptionalism, the Forbes 30 Under 30 set. They’re grifters, but they’re celebrated grifters. There’s a whole bottom-feeding sludge of tech exceptionalists that don’t get the same kind of attention, like patent trolls.

Oh, and the fintech industry.

As Riley Quinn says, “when you hear ‘fintech,’ think: ‘unlicensed bank.’” The majority of fintech “innovation” consists of adding “with a computer” to highly regulated activities and declaring them to be unregulated (and, in the case of crypto, unregulatable).

There are a lot of heavily regulated financial activities, like dealing in securities (something the crypto industry is definitely doing and claims it isn’t). Most people don’t buy or sell securities regularly — indeed, most Americans own little or no stocks.

But you know what regulated financial activity a lot of Americans participate in?

Going into debt.

As wages stagnate and the price of housing, medical care, childcare, transportation and education soar, Americans fund their consumption with debt. Trillions of dollars’ worth of debt. Many of us are privileged to borrow money by walking into a bank and asking for a loan, but millions of Americans are denied that genteel experience.

Instead, working Americans increasingly rely on payday lenders and other usurers who charge sky-high interest rates, on top of penalties and fees, trapping borrowers in an endless cycle of indebtedness. This is an historical sign of a civilization in decline: productive workers require loans to engage in useful activities. Normally, the activity pans out — the crop comes in, say — and the debt is repaid.

But eventually, you’ll get a bad beat. The crop fails, the workshop burns down, a pandemic shuts down production. Instead of paying off your debt, you have to roll it over. Now, you’re in an even worse situation, and the next time you catch a bad break, you go further into debt. Over time, all production comes under the control of creditors.

The historical answer to this is jubilee: a regular wiping-away of all debt. While this was often dressed up in moral language, there was an absolutely practical rationale for it. Without jubilee, eventually, all the farmers stop growing food so that they can grow ornamental flowers for their creditors’ tables. Then, as starvation sets in, civilization collapses:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

As the debt historian Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid.” Without jubilee, indebtedness becomes a chronic and inescapable condition. As more and more creditors attach their claims to debtors’ assets, they have to compete with one another to terrorize the debtor into paying them off, first. One creditor might threaten to garnish your paycheck. Another, to repossess your car. Another, to evict you from your home. Another, to break your arm. Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid — but when you have a choice between a broken arm and stealing from your kid’s college fund or the cash-register, maybe the debt can be paid…a little. Of course, digital tools offer all kinds of exciting new tools for arm-breakers — immobilizing your car, say, or deleting the apps on your phone, starting with the ones you use most often:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Under Trump, payday lenders romped through America. A lobbyist for the payday lenders became a top Trump lawyer:

https://theintercept.com/2017/11/27/white-house-memo-justifying-cfpb-takeover-was-written-by-payday-lender-attorney/

This lobbyist then oversaw Trump’s appointment of a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau boss who deregulated payday lenders, opening the door to triple digit interest rates:

https://www.latimes.com/business/lazarus/la-fi-lazarus-cfpb-payday-lenders-20180119-story.html

To justify this, the payday loan industry found corruptible academics and paid them to write papers defending payday loans as “inclusive.” These papers were secretly co-authored by payday loan industry lobbyists:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2019/02/25/how-payday-lending-industry-insider-tilted-academic-research-its-favor/

Of course, Trump doesn’t read academic papers, so the payday lenders also moved their annual conference to a Trump resort, writing the President a check for $1m:

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

Biden plugged many of the cracks that Trump created in the firewalls that guard against predatory lenders. Most significantly, he moved Rohit Chopra from the FTC to the CFPB, where, as director, he has overseen a determined effort to rein in the sector. As the CFPB re-establishes regulation, the fintech industry has moved in to add “with a computer” to many regulated activities and so declare them beyond regulation.

One fintech “innovation” is the creation of a “direct to consumer Earned Wage Access” product. Earned Wage Access is just a fancy term for a program some employers offer whereby workers can get paid ahead of payday for the hours they’ve already worked. The direct-to-consumer EWA offers loans without verifying that the borrower has money coming in. Companies like Earnin claim that their faux EWA services are free, but in practice, everyone who uses the service pays for the “Lightning Speed” upsell.

Of course they do. Earnin charges sky-high interest rates and twists borrowers’ arms into leaving a “tip” for the service (yes, they expect you to tip your loan-shark!). Anyone desperate enough to pay triple-digit interest rates and tip the service for originating their loan is desperate and needs to the money now:

https://prospect.org/power/05-01-2023-fintech-ewa-payday-loan-scam/

EWA annual interest rates sit around 300%. The average EWA borrower uses the service two or three times every month. EWA CEOs and lobbyists claim that they’re banking the unbanked — but the reality is that they’re acting as sticky-fingered brokers between banks and young, poor workers, marking up traditional bank services.

This fact is rarely mentioned when EWA companies lobby state legislatures seeking to be exempted from usury rules that are supposed to curb predatory lenders. In Vermont, Earnin wants an exemption from the state’s 18% interest rate cap — remember, the true APR for EWA loans is about 300%.

In Texas, payday lenders are classed as loan brokers, not loan originators and are thus able to avoid the state’s usury caps. EWAs are lobbying the Texas legislature for further exemptions from state money-transmitter and usury limit laws, principally on the strength of the “it’s different: we do it with a computer” logic.

But as Jarod Facundo writes for The American Prospect, quoting Monica Burks from the Center for Responsible Lending, a loan is a loan even if it’s with a computer: “The industry is trying to create a new definition for what a loan is in order to exempt themselves from existing consumer protection laws… When you offer someone a portion of money on the promise that they will repay it, and often that repayment will be accompanied with fees or charges or interest, that’s what a loan is.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Mountain View, Berkeley, Portland, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A stately, columnated bank building, bedecked in garish payday lender signs.]

Image: Andre Carrotflower (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:30_North_%28former_Pontiac_Commercial_%26_Savings_Bank_Building%29,_Pontiac,_Michigan_-_entrance_and_Chief_Pontiac_relief_sculpture_-_20201213.jpg

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

#pluralistic #cfpb #earned wage access #digital armbreakers #loansharks #payday lenders #tech exceptionalism #jubilee #debt #fintech #usury #michael hudson #graeber #debts that can't be paid wont be paid

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the-greatest-fool · 1 month

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I basically only post and read posts in my bubble aside from occasionally scrolling through Real Tumblr, but people’s takes about US politics on this website are fucking unbelievable. They talk about our government as if it didn’t save us from a pandemic-induced financial collapse, pump trillions of dollars into public works, not to mention substantially invest and rein in pharmaceuticals, and is instead some sort of ultra-neoliberal-corporate kitty shooting machine.

Like let’s be for real. Do they…know what the government does? How it works? Do you know what a conservative is? Do you know what an authoritarian is?

Because a system of government whose citizens are all lucky it has had continuous peaceful transfer of power for centuries could very well have its greatest norm violated—that those who reject its legitimacy must be rejected—and we don’t blink an eye.

Because the first major investment against climate change, coupled with life saving investments into healthcare, cancer research, and drug costs could be shredded by indiscriminate fiscal conservatives who don’t care if we die in forest fires, cancer from pollution, lose insurance because we’re jobless, or, apparently, all die in a fricking plague.

Because a foreign policy establishment that had finally reversed two decades of foreign intervention in favor of a normalization strategy aimed at reducing American foot presence, drone strikes, and indiscriminate killings is about to be replaced by the whims of a man who dropped the “mother of all bombs” on the Middle East, gave American soldiers up to Russian bounty hunters, extorted a foreign leader for political favors and arguably indirectedly resulted in that country being BRUTALLY INVADED BY AN IMPERIAL NEIGHBOR, is in the pockets of CCP-funded billionaires, and WANTS TO “FINISH THE JOB” IN GAZA.

Because a President who is against family separations and promotes a path for DREAMERs and more legal immigration and rights for unodcumented people could be replaced by a man who wants to separate families, PUT UNDOCUMENTED PEOPLE IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS, RESTRICT EVEN LEGAL IMMIGRATION, ESPECIALLY THAT OF MUSLIMS, AND SHOOT MIGRANTS.

Because a President who stopped a repeat of the Great Recession and the painful decade that followed it with strong fiscal stimulus which CUT CHILD POVERTY IN HALF BEFORE CONSERVATIVES MADE IT EXPIRE, then managed to cut deficits and presided over a decline in inflation, resulting in record high real wages (aka taking into account inflation) for workers is going to be replaced by a President who wants to TARIFF ALL FOREIGN GOODS by 15%, CUT TAXES FOR THE FILTHY RICH AND THE TAX ENFORCEMENT TO STOP THEM, INCREASE CHILD POVERTY AND UNINSUREDNESS by cutting gov’t programs, and HURT UNIONS which by every measure will lead to lower wages, higher prices, and more poverty and starvation.

Because a President who has pledged to sign a bill codifying Roe v. Wade (which has yet to be possible in recent memory, whatever these kids say), who enshrined the right to marry someone of the same sex or different race, who supports the Equality Act which would enshrine LGBTQ protections into the law, could be replaced by THE MAN WHO REMOVED AMERICA’S RIGHT TO ABORTION, whose Christian nationalist supporters want to END SEXUAL FREEDOM as we know it including TARGETING IVF AND BIRTH CONTROL, who wants to reverse LGBTQ discrimination law in favor of Christian bigots who hate queer and trans people, and who demonizes that community to win political support.

Ask yourself if you really think there’s no difference between the two. Ask yourself if a reasonable person given these facts would choose the latter. Ask yourself why you see so much propagandizing against the reasonable choice. Ask yourself why so many people seem to have opinions on this when they “don’t even go here”.

Maybe I’m just preaching to the choir here. Maybe people who say this inane stuff wouldn’t vote anyways. Maybe somehow we’re screwed anyways. Maybe people will stupidly vote third party and we’re fucked. Maybe this will get me attacked.

I don’t care anymore. If I have to see one more fucking post acting like we live under the fucking Evil Empire while a SELF PROCLAIMED DICTATOR is about to end the best streak of decent governance I’ve ever seen in a while, I just can’t anymore.

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sethshead · 3 months

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Did you know that, in 1962, locomotive factory workers in Novocherkassk struck over the combination of a 30% deduction in pay and a similar increase in dairy and meat prices, thus reducing them to starvation wages. In response the KGB fired into the crowd, killing 26. The media was not allowed to report this, even to condemn a strike in the proletarian paradise. The dead were buried in secret plots, the locations not revealed to family members until 1994, after the fall of the Soviet Union and communism.

And yet it is the propaganda of this closed and paranoid totalitarian regime that continues to circulate unchallenged among Western scholars and intellectuals.

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devilmen-collector · 12 days

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The Pope is Dead

Ft. M!MC, the Devil Kings (only the five who have been released), Gamigin and other nobles (only nobles who have appeared stories, except Astaroth, I don't have any story part with Astaroth in my account), the Seraphim

C/W: religious theme, reader's death (natural cause)

This is a revamp of my own fic in OM with similar theme

It has been 72 years...

It has been 72 years since you last saw them. Back then, you were a young man with many lustful desires of the youth. Yet you remember the time you spent with them... It went by in an instant but you were happy.

When did it start to go wrong? When did the conflict start to appear? Maybe because your got into conflict with them when you saw or heard them blaspheme God. After all, you were raised a cradle Catholic, seeing them blaspheme God never sat right with you. Or maybe it was because you saw the danger if devils continued to have influence on humanity. After all, we and they are two different races, with different views towards things. And you knew that many things applied to devils and their society can't be applied to human society, regarding how the society works, government, laws, etc. You foresaw what you believed to be the inevitable destruction if you continued to let human have contact with devils. Or maybe some other reasons. It was very complicated. Sometimes, you don't even know what ultimately led to the rift.

That day 72 years ago, you used the devils' power to pull the strings behind the scene to get yourself elected to the most powerful spiritual position in the world, the Pope. The devils were unhappy but they followed your wish anyway, even though your office is totally opposed to them. They loved you too much for their own good to go against your will.

Right after your election, you exposed the existence of angels and devils to the world. With concreate evidence, even the most convinced atheists and agnostics before had to believe in the existence in the supernatural. Then you made sure the idea that the human society was incompatible in every way to devils became the mainstream and most accepted opinion. You also made sure that people never believed that inventions came from devils, but devils only claimed that to be the case to control human society. Leaders of the world soon declared they would be cutting ties with the devils. You didn't believe them completely, of course, which was why you waged a Crusade. The Crusade was fueled by either the faith or the wrath of 8 billion normal citizen and it was so effective that it's believed that all ties between Earth and Hell were cut off. At least, no concrete evidence or sign or any report sent to you supported a remaining connection between earth and Hell.

You also used the powers that you inherited from your ancestor, Solomon, to make a shield around papal residence, which prevents any devil from coming in.

As for the angels, you tricked the Seraphim that you were on their side now. With what you had done, they believed in you. But you trapped them and turned them into energy sources to sustain the shield around your residence. With their infinite life forces God has given them, they are still alive and curse you every day from under the Vatican basilica, where they are imprisoned.

Even though you did manage to cut off Hell's influence on humanity and make the Church's influence stronger, world peace has never been achieved as you have hoped, many people still live in poverty and starvation. Technology is more advanced, but the world is still the same now when you are at death's door as it was 72 years ago.

*cough cough*

"Holy Father" your secretary uses a piece of tissue to wipe the blood that is flowing from your mouth after the coughing.

"We have little time left." You say, almost like a whisper, but all of those cardinals, bishops, priests and doctors around you understand what you said. Your priest secretary can't even hold back his tears.

"We are the longest-reigning Pope ever, with 72 yeats occupying the Chair of St. Peter, but We have not achieved anything noteworthy, except pushing all devils back to Hell."

"No, Holy Father, you have achieved something we couldn't for more than 20 centuries. God will reward His faithful servant." A cardinal says.

"You are a faithful laborer of the Lord." Says another cardinal.

Suddenly, a Swiss guard runs into the room, his face terrified.

"T-the Devil Kings, t-they are here..." The guard says as he pants.

Ah, the shield protecting the papal residence must have been weakening as I lay dying. You say to yourself. That must be the reason why the Devil Kings can break in now.

"Leave." You say calmly. All the clergy and the guard turn to look at you, surprised by your order.

"Leave." You order again, your tone more firm this time. It's time for you to face them, alone. The children God has committed to your care have nothing to do with this.

Some of them start to cry but all of them leave, but not before whispering among themselves to alert all the exorcists and papal guards. However, the Swiss guard stay.

"Holy Father, I have sworn to protect you, even if I have to sacrifice myself." The Swiss guard says. You know he won't leave so you agree to let him stay.

The doors to your room bursts open, as four devil kings, no, three devil kings and a hundreds of flies step or fly into the room. You can see the young guard standing by your side shudder but he stands firm, determining to protect you, whatever the cost he may have to pay.

"You have changed so much." Beelzebub is the first one to speak as his handsome appearance emerge from hundreds of flies. He doesn't smile.

"We- I see that you guys are still the same." You look at the four devil kings. There's Beelzebub, Mammon, Leviathan, and Lucifer.

So Satan, Asmodeus and Belphegor aren't here. They must be so mad at me that they don't want to see me again. You say within yourself. You aren't surprised that the nobles aren't here. The shield may be weakened because you are dying, allowing the kings to pass through, but you are still breathing and sustaining it with your powers, and it's strong enough to prevent the nobles.

"Not the same ever since you left, Master." Mammon says with a sad voice.

You are surprised to hear Mammon still calling you Master, but you no longer have the strength to point it out.

"I must have hurt you guys a lot."

"Yes, you did." Leviathan says with an angry expression. "You said you would stay in Hell but you betrayed us." However, the scowl is quickly replaced by an expression that looks like Leviathan is holding back his emotions.

Lucifer is the first one to come over to your bed. The guard beside you raises his weapon but he's knocked unconscious soon enough.

"Don't kill him." You say weakly.

Lucifer nods as he takes your hand. He checks your weakening pulse. You can see his eyes sadden. "Oh the fate of all children of Adam." You can hear him whispering, like talking to himself. Other kings also come over and stand beside your bed.

Ah, that's my cue. You close your eyes, awaiting your cruel death, after all, you are on your death bed, you have no regrets.

However, nothing comes.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" You open your eyes and ask.

"No, we're here to take you home." Beelzebub answers.

"Even after my betrayal?"

"We have never gotten over that. But knowing you are dying, we want to take you back first, Master. We will talk about this over in Hell."

"I'm dying, Mammon. I can't be there for the talk."

"That's why we have created a plan."

"We will wait for you to die, so that the office of the Pope will leave you. Then we will have Gamigin revive you."

"And I'll have Orias feed you angel's soul to make you young again."

"It won't work." You say calmly. "It's the sentence on all children of Adam. Gamigin's revival ability won't work. Just as your healing ability won't work on me, Lucifer, because I'm dying of natural cause."

The kings go silent. They know you could be right. Lucifer, more than anyone, knows you are right because none of the healing he is doing works. He only clings to some hope. You know you are crushing their hope, but you have accepted your fate long ago. At least you know they still love you. Thinking about that, tears start to flow from your eyes

"Where are Satan and the others?" You ask.

"Gehenna nobles are here. But Satan...he's very depressed after you left."

"It will be...too...late..."

The vision you start to see changes. The images of yourself and your memories, be it happy or sad, start to flash through your eyes. With each moment of you with the devils, your tears start to shed more as you can't help but say "sorry", "I miss you" and "I love you" in your mind. Your breathing becomes harder and you can't feel your body anymore.

Lord, forgive me, I wish I could have served you more faithfully.

I love you all and I'm sorry.

Is that Leamas and Nina waving at me?

Is that you... Minhyeok? It has been so long.

"You have done what you think is best. Now rest." The young man with long purple hair says and smiles. "With you, my bloodline is extinct, but I won't hold it against you." You can even hear a little bit mischief toward the end.

Outside the papal residence, the devil nobles, led by Sitri, Bimet, Foras and Bael, are engaged in a mostly glaring contest at the guards and exorcists and clergy who have arrived to aid the Pope. There are a few guards lying on the ground, but they are only knocked unconscious.

"No." Sitri suddenly laments as the shield around the palace disintegrated.

"That means..."

"Let's go inside."

As the devils rush inside, the clergy, exorcists and guards follow suit.

As they come into the room, they see the devil kings surrounding you, who are clearly dead.

"Holy Father!" All of Catholics in the room kneel down and weep.

"Who is the Camerlengo?" Lucifer asks and one cardinal stands up in response to his question. The Camerlengo knows what he has to do. He comes over to check your body to confirm if you are dead or not.

"I need a doctor. But all doctors left for safety. Only us clergy returned."

Lucifer turns and nods at Morax, who comes over to check on you. After finishing, he tells the Camerlengo his conclusion. The Camerlengo turns to all in the room and says.

"The Pope is dead."

The Camerlengo turns back to you. He kisses the golden ring on your right hand and takes it out and destroys it in the presence of all, signifying the end of your papacy. The Catholics make the sign of the Cross and say the prayers for the dead. A priest leaves for the adjacent room to say Mass for the deceased pontiff.

Even with the plan, the devil kings don't plan to stop the piety of the Catholics.

"Gamigin."

"Yes, hyung."

Satan arrives when the bells of the Vatican basilica are being rung. Hundreds of people in the square immediately get into prayers as they know what those bells signify. Satan doesn't care and speeds up his vehicle pass them.

Many thoughts are going through Satan's head: anger, depression, the feeling of betrayed, sadness, etc. But the biggest thought in his head is that he wants to meet you again. Everything else, let's sort out later. He speeds up the Akira into the papal residence. The Akira runs through the corridors until it arrives at the room of the Pope. Satan only stops because he can't go in further with the motorcycle. He can't wait to see his beloved alive and well because he believes in the plan. He did feel his bond with the human got broken earlier but he believes in Gamigin's ability to bring his human back.

"Where's MC?" Satan runs in the room and shouts.

"He's right there." Mammon says with a sad voice and points at the bed.

No. Satan rushed over to your bed. No, it can't be.

"Gamigin, why haven't you brought him back yet?" Satan shouts his question at Gamigin, who is holding his staff and stands behind Lucifer.

"Your Majesty, it didn't work. MC's heart will no longer beat." Sitri tries to stay composed as much as possible as he reports to Satan but the hand holding the tea cup is shaking.

Satan turns to the remains of you on the bed.

"OPEN YOUR EYES AND TELL ME THIS IS A CRUEL JOKE, MC!!!" Satan shouts and punches the wall on the side of the bed, making it crack.

All of the human in the room flinch at Satan's wrathful action, however, your lifeless body makes no move.

"I want to take MC's remains back to Gehenna." Satan says as he crunches his teeth.

"No, you can't do that. A Catholic must be buried on consecrated ground." A bunch of clergy react and state the Church's teaching.

"I will kill all of you." Satan crunches his teeth again. The clergy flinch but don't have any intention to back down.

"Your Majesty Satan," Paimon intervenes, "if you kill them, MC will be sad. After all, they are MC's spiritual children.

"I can let you consecrate a plot of land in Paradise Lost." Lucifer says.

"We have to see what he has written in his will." The Camerlengo says. "But his will can only be opened at the meeting of cardinals after the mourning period, but before the next conclave."

"How long before the next conclave?" Leviathan asks.

"15 days, the Canon Law doesn't allow anytime sooner." The Camerlengo answers.

Leviathan scowls but Beelzebub intervenes.

"Then let's wait for 2 weeks. If MC has a clause in his will to be buried in Hell, can you promise you will accept that and give his body to us?"

"Only with the condition of burial on consecrated ground and we can build a chapel around it."

"You have only mentioned the consecrated ground before, now you include a chapel. You human just keep asking more and more." Leviathan scowls again.

Before anyone can say another thing, the ground begins to shake like there is an earthquake. But it soon stops.

"They are here." Lucifer mumbles. "But they won't have any strength left to fight if we are here."

The devils all look outside the window and they see three shadows emerge from underground. They are the three Seraphim, finally released from their bondage after the death of their captor.

The Devil Kings immediately surround the bed to protect the remains of their beloved.

"Where is he? I'm going to cut off his head." Michael growls, he's so angry that blood vessel can be seen on his face.

Sensing the Devil Kings, the Seraphim all look at the papal residence, which is right beside the Vatican basilica.

"He-he's dead." Gabriel says as he looks at the remains on the bed through the window.

Seeing that you're dead, Raphael begins to laugh maniacally non-stop, so much that he has to hug his stomach mid-air.

"The kings are here. Let's...retreat for today." Michael says as his wings soar toward the sky. Gabriel follows suit.

"Remember to send funeral invitation." Raphael says finally before following his two brothers.

"Let continue our discussion later." The Camerlengo says after the commotion has subsided.

Some other people enter the room and walk toward the remains of the Pope.

"What are you doing?" Satan crunches his teeth as the newcomers.

"Calm down, Satan. They are here to take the body away for bathing and vesting."

All the devils don't want to leave you but they all back down to let people do their job.

...

"You really are so beautiful, Master, it's like all the precious things in this world are created to adorn you." Mammon says as he looks at the papal remains put on display inside the Vatican basilica of St. Peter.

You lying there, on a dark green catafalque. You are vested with red vestments, your hands are vested with red gloves embroidered with the Holy Name of the Savior, your legs wear traditional red papal shoes embroidered with a golden cross on each one. On each shoe is also adorned a ruby, which came from Mammon's treasury. A golden cross and a rosary were also put in your hands. The golden cross was from Lucifer, an accessory from the time he was still a Seraph. On your head, a golden mitre, with two folds, representing the Old Testament and the New Testament, the two "horns" of a bishop. Surrounding the catafalque are 72 candles made from pure beeswax, each represents a year of your pontificate.

The kings and their nobles stand on the upper floor of the basilica, looking at thousands of mourners paying respect to you. Each cardinal who comes over sprinkles holy water on your remains and kisses your hand. Priests and religious gather around your remains to pray for your soul.

At an occasion like this, Bimet would have already gone to collect funeral money. However, this time, he doesn't want to do that, but only to look at your "sleeping" face. Eligos standing next to him can't stop his sniffles. Valefor standing behind Mammon looking at your remains, now that nothing can be done to bring you back to them, he wishes he could stand guard beside your body as the last thing he could do for you.

Foras doesn't say anything but his heart is broken, even his beautiful horns seem to be darker than normal. Barbatos looks at the withered rose in his hand. In his heart currently there is a complete solar eclipse that has covered the sun of his life, the sun which he knows will never shine its light on him again. Glasyalabolas can't help but get angry with you, with Leviathan, with everyone, and with himself. Angry with you for being a traitor to his love. Angry with Leviathan for his bad decision of not pursuing you when the problem starts and only meet you when you are dying. Angry with everyone who separate you from him, including God. And angry with himself for failing the promise to create a kingdom with only you two. Orias drops the angel's soul in his hand. It was the angel's soul that was supposed to be used to make you young again. But what use is it when you are dead?

Bael is the only one staying in the basilica of Abyss camp, beside Beelzebub, closing his eyes remembering your smile and each moment you called his name sweetly. Stolas has gone somewhere to shoot his guns to his heart's content, calling it the last salute for you, who are "a fool". Naberius and Amon are staying with him, not speaking a word.

"It doesn't come true." Leraye remembers he once said he saw you both walking together on the streets of Gehenna, enjoying your time together for many years to come. But that never comes true. He's wondering of the only target he has missed is your heart, he fails in convincing you to stay in Hell. Paimon tries to console Leraye, but his heart is also breaking apart. Zagan doesn't say a word but he has lost an important person he must protect. Belial tries not to shed any tear, he has to stay strong for Jjyu. Sitri couldn't hold his tea cup anymore and it is dropped to the ground, shattering into countless pieces.

Andrealphus holds tight to his scythe, as if he needs something to hold tight to after he lost you. They say twins share a soul. He lost half of his souls when his brother was killed. But your death breaks to pieces the remaining half.

"It's my fault. I can't bring him back." Gamigin blames himself.

"No, it's not your fault." Each time Gamigin blames himself, a brother of his in Paradise Lost will reject that. They don't say anything more comforting because they have no strength to do that right now.

Each of the kings' heart is broken but each of them knows they have to stay strong, as for their nobles and people. They will only mourn your death in private.

Lucifer is the only one walking in the lower floor. He doesn't join the line of mourners but wandering around aimlessly, no one stops him either. Finally, he stops to look at the mosaic of the Eternal Father stretching his hand out on the dome of the basilica.

Why? Father, why? I have served you faithfully since the beginning of time, I had one source of happiness, and you took him away from me. Why? SAY SOMETHING! ANSWER ME!

...

In a graveyard in Korea, where almost no one comes on such a mourning day for the whole world, there is a little lump floating above a grave. He poured a glass of soju on the ground of the grave.

"Minhyeok, the son of Solomon...went over to meet you. Have you two...reunited? I hope you did. Please...send my regards to him." Ppyong says even though he can't stop his sniffles.

The end.

...

I have an epilogue but decided to not write it and let you guys decide the final burial place :)

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evangelifloss · 6 months

Note

Please tell me about the great emu war of 1932 :3

"Haha Australia lost a war to emus twice"

NO BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!

Here's why:

First, I don't believe foreigners know how BIG emus are, and how much of their stocky main body is just layers and layers of feathers

This is Peck. He doesn't actually Peck but he LOVES the LADIES and for reference, that's me as he's uh... trying to woo me. I'm 4'11 / 149cm tall and in that photo he's not standing at full height either because he's preparing to get lower and ahem, grind. He is also a juvenile.

Emus are typically 5.7 feet/1.75 meters tall, but they have been recorded to get up to 6.2 feet/1.9 meters.

So imagine you've got this big ass dinosaur bird with the most t-rex looking feet perfectly designed for running. Yeeting. Skeeting. Killing you maybe. And now take into account these flightless fucks can run up to 62 Kilometers per hour. THATS 39 MILES PER HOUR TOP SPEED.

Now add 20,000 emus.

So 20,000 emus against poverty-stricken farmers with failing crops, farmers WHO WERE MOSTLY WW1 VETERANS BY THE WAY. Yeah nah.

Here's a visual to help y'all understand how insanely large emu groups get.

Onto why the hell were there so many emus on the farmlands (even tho... yknow... the emus and the local indigenous were there first but we won't get into that.)

Basically a big drought made the horde of emus move away from their usual dwindling territory, onto the sprawling Australian "farm lands" and remember I mentioned their feet before? BIG STOMPY. Whatever crops that had somehow managed to survive the severely vitamin-deficient soil and grow, did not in fact, survive the dinosaur feet as the emus strolled through, pecking and foraging the ground along the way.

The plight of the veteran farmers didn't fall on deaf ears, but the Australian government severely underestimated the power of 20,000 emus by a LONG shot. Plus they weren't all that interested either, until at least it was reported that the emus were destroying the Rabbit Proof Fence. What legends.

For the first "war" the government sent 3 men.

Yep. You heard me. Three guys. Major Meredith, Sargeant McMurray and a soldier by the name of O'Halloran.

They had one truck with a machine gun, and probably other guns, but between them roughly 10,000 rounds of ammunition.

So off they went. To wage war against the progressive emus breaking the symbol of "White Australia" AKA the Fence. Oh and also I guess the starving vets.

This is it. This is what they had.

Locals from all around joined in the fight and tried to herd the roaming groups of emus into the murder range but the emus had a tactic. One that us Aussies use at bush doofs when you hear police sirens- and that is to SCATTER.

They only killed "a dozen birds" from a group estimated to be around 1000. It didn't help that the machine gun jammed during this organised ambush.

And by then, the Emus clicked onto what was happening. They split up into smaller groups, observed to be led by the largest sized male who kept an eye out for the enemy. Never again did they risk coming together as seen before.

The war was lost. Only a few more attempts were made that had little success and Ornithologist Dom Serventy concisely summarised the whole operation.

I want to remind you all that this is a recorded statement, kept on file in legal military documentation

"The Emu command had evidently ordered guerrilla tactics, and its unwieldy army soon split up into innumerable small units that made use of the military equipment uneconomic. A crestfallen field force therefore withdrew from the combat area after about a month."

Let's move onto Emu War Part Two: Unsuccessful Boogaloo

Heads up by the way, TW below.

Emus were still, y'know, Emu-ing about and the drought didn't let up either. People were still dying of starvation, becoming homeless and committing suicide. It took the Premier of Western Australia, and a Base Commander in the military penning letters and using media pressure to finally convince the government to give it another go.

Major Meridith returns to the War and having learnt from practically everyone's past assumptions of the highly intelligent sonic-speed bird, brought success. And by that I mean, more success than the previous war.

Ultimately only 5% of the 20k Emu Army were ever killed, and even that is debated since it is more than likely they inflated numbers of kills to lessen the damage of being completely inferior to the superb qualities of the Emu.

A Federal parliamentarian (like a senator) when asked about whether there should be a medal made for the conflict, he replied with:

"Any medals should go to the emus who had won every round so far."

And of course in true Aussie fashion, the Defence Minister who supported and approved for the Emu War 1 and 2, was given the title by the Australian public, and international conservationists of ‘Minister for the Emu War’.

Ouch, but also, Not Every Problem Has To Be Solved With Guns.

Ironically what worked far better was the implementation of fences to keep the Emus OUT and unfortunately, a bounty system that saw many locals and professional hunters alike have FAR more success than an entire military operation. 57,000 bounties were claimed in a six month period after it being introduced in 1934.

Thus concludes the Great Emu War of 1932.

If you're asking why I know this, I studied it when I was 16, and made an entire poster to which I gave it to my Japanese Teacher. For context: I was living in Japan. Going to a Japanese School. And teaching my poor English teacher about this Emu War that he only believed once he looked it up. As a parting gift I gave him a poster. Shout out to Kawamura-Sensei you tried so hard not to laugh at the poster but I won that war.

Here it is. All the quotes on there are real too!

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alice-angel12x · 1 year

Note

Since death knows all the great seven and more, she definitely had some distain for some. Like Hades and Frollo

Certainly. Death saw them during their time when their perspective on life and their purpose began to change. So not long after when Death befriended the Epel's many many great Grandmother/ancestor. During this time, Death actually slowed down and began looking at the mortals and their lives. they saw many goods, but also terrible mortals.

Let's start with Hades. And Let's get the hierarchy clear. At the tippy top are Time and Space, and under them are Life and Death, and under them are the lesser gods. The lesser gods are any higher beings that were created by Life and Not Time or Space.

Hades is one of the underworld Gods that did not betray Y/n Death. And their partnership ended on a bittersweet note.

The Evil Queen- She was the first Mortal she ever started observing and was not happy. Death indeed thought the queen was beautiful when she was faced with a potential rival. She sought to snuff out the life of the innocent who could care less about the queen's vanity compaction. Y/n thought her death was well deserved, dying as an ugly old hag.

The Queen of Hearts- She was crazy, Death simply saw a tyrant, who used her temper tantrum to scare the obedience of her citizens. So Y/n may or may not have used their pendant to pretend to be human and start an uprising. Witch leads to the queen being beheaded herself. After that Death Left the white queen in charge.

Jafar- Death simply thought he was a man, who wanted to be heard. But that's where their mercy ends, As he did bring harm to good people. And tried to force a girl to love him with magic. But he is now a genie, so they had to wait a really long time to collect his soul.

Scar- (In this Au, the whole lion king characters are human beastman) Death saw him as a spoiled second prince, who knew nothing about running a kingdom. But he had good leadership skills and was very clever. He could have been a great general, or caption of the Royal guard.

Instead, he killed his brother, attempted to kill his nephew, and almost drove his kingdom to starvation.

The Sea Witch- Death knew she was a deal maker who targets those who are at their lowest, or in a desperate mindset. And made unfair wages on her victims. So death was more than happy to collect her soul when she tried to murder the two lovers. And death used her magic to undo the curse of all the victims of Ursula when she perished.

Maleficent- She is the only one of the Seven, as a mortal, meets death. And even mock them to their face. For she believed that she was so powerful that she could live forever. Since she compared her life span to humans, she thought herself immortal. And after spitting in Death's face, this did many things for her ego.

So much so that she gets offended when she's not invited to a random baby's birthday. And curse death upon said baby. So Y/n was happy to watch the fear in maleficent eyes as they came to collect them.

"And that is my experience on the great seven," Death said, as the Dorm leaders sat around their meeting table.

All of them stare at death with wide eyes and disbelief.

"You started a rebellion?!" Riddle gasped.

#Falling Pegasus answers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu #death!reader #death au #origin au #disney twisted wonderland

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fatphobiabusters · 2 months

Text

You know what? I thought I'd seen everything, but I'm literally fucking speechless right now. My university's counseling center is so fucking untrained on fatphobia that they have a pamphlet on "Body Size Diversity and Acceptance," which I had been shocked was offered at all. But I apparently shouldn't have gotten my expectations higher than the depths of the Mariana Trench because, after a very horrible experience with fatphobia in counseling there today, I opened the pamphlet to read that thin people are "oppressed" for being thin. And I am somehow not exaggerating in any fucking way when I say that's exactly what the pamphlet claimed.

They:

Didn't acknowledge fatphobia at all (the pamphlet barely even shows any fat people and makes this entire shitty pamphlet JUST about body image. You know, as if that's all fat people have to fucking worry about. The rest of this list is just about the two circled paragraphs because I do not have the energy to dissect this entire bullshit pamphlet)

Erased fatphobia to talk about "size oppression" which is a concept they made up to pretend that ALL people are oppressed for their size. BULLSHIT.

Act like this pretend "size oppression" they used to erase fatphobia is oppression because "Everyone judges themselves about their size and that's all that's needed to be oppressed for the size you are 😔"

"Size oppression does not spare those who are naturally thin, either." HUH. HUH. ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? YOU WANT TO TAKE A SECOND GO AT THAT, BUD?

The pamphlet says thin people are OPPRESSED BY "VOLUPTUOUS AND MUSCULAR IDEALS." BUDDY, YOU CAN'T EVEN FUCKING SAY THE WORD FAT. THE WORD "FAT" IS NOT WRITTEN EVEN ONCE IN THIS PAMPHLET, BUT YOU SURE HAD NO PROBLEM WRITING "THIN" EVERYWHERE! AND "VOLUPTUOUS" IS JUST YOUR FUCKING CODEWORD FOR "THIN WITH A BIG ASS." FUCK OFF!

"[Thin people] can be just as dissatisfied with their bodies and themselves as anyone else." HUH. REALLY? YOU'RE GOING TO CLAIM THAT?????

They're the target of people's jealousy and envy, which you use to claim thin people are oppressed, AND THEN NEVER STOP TO FUCKING THINK WITH YOUR BRAIN ABOUT WHY EVERYONE WANTS TO LOOK LIKE THEM?!?!?!?! I DON'T KNOW, MAYBE THERE'S AN INDICATION OF A POWER IMBALANCE SOMEWHERE IN THERE????? SOME REASONS FOR WHY THIN PEOPLE ARE SO PRAISED??? AND THEM BEING PRAISED...IS YOUR DEFINITION OF OPPRESSION?!?!?!

"For no reason other than their body sizes!"

NO REASON?!?!?!?!?!

THERE'S NO REASON WHY FAT PEOPLE LITERALLY KILL THEMSELVES TO BE THIN OTHER THAN FUCKING AESTHETICS?!?!

NOT THE MUTILATION, POLICE BRUTALITY, STARVATION, LACK OF ACCESS TO VITAL RESOURCES LIKE CLOTHES AND HEALTHCARE, FATAL MEDICAL NEGLECT AND ABUSE, BEING LEFT TO DIE IN NATURAL DISASTERS LIKE HURRICANES, COURT JUDGES SAYING IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO RAPE FAT PEOPLE, THE WAGE GAPS, JOB DISCRIMINATION, WORKPLACE HARASSMENT, FORCED SEPARATION OF FAMILIES, NOT BEING ALLOWED TO ADOPT CHILDREN, AND THE LIST GOES FUCKING ON?!?! THIN PEOPLE ONLY EXPERIENCE THINNESS AND NO AMOUNT OF PRIVILEGE OVER FAT PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

I want to kill, maim, strangle, and rip flesh with my teeth right now :)))))

-Mod Worthy

#thin privilege #fatphobia #Mod Worthy

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lichfucker · 14 days

Text

the discourse about this is driving me insane. no, buying vegetables at the grocery store is not radical leftist praxis. if you wanted to do something truly ~revolutionary~ you would run into the store, grab a handful of snow peas, and run out. ESPECIALLY if it's a corporate chain supermarket whose food is sourced from exploited migrant workers being paid starvation wages. like. paying for peas is not going to help those workers lmao it's not gonna help the cashiers it's not gonna help the custodial staff who mop the floors it's not even gonna help middle management. any money you spend on snow peas at the grocery store goes straight into the pockets of the billionaire ceos who either hoard that wealth or use it to further the american imperialist machine. like at that point the only true way to circumvent the system is to sprint through the produce aisle shoplifting snow peas. and if you use one of those little plastic produce baggies you're nullifying the entire action. like wow congrats on missing the point SO hard. the more plastic that gets used, the more plastic gets produced. the environmental consequences are kind of abstract from a usamerican perspective since the people who are most affected by this kind of large-scale pollution and trash icebergs etc are disenfranchised people living in the global south, so like I get WHY people might think it's okay to use plastic produce bags when shoplifting snow peas (if the effects don't target you personally then those effects must not be real, right? el oh el), but honestly using the bags just signals to me that you care more about LOOKING like an activist by stealing peas than you do about actual activism which requires a lot more thought and intention when stealing peas and isn't just about espousing all the Correct Pea-Stealing Opinions on tumblr dot com. personally, when I run into the grocery store, pick up a bunch of snow peas, and run out, I just carry them in my hands. like I sprint through the store and down the street with two fistfuls of snow peas. I never really have issues w dropping any but if you're worried abt it you can just put them in your pockets (lmfao watch me get called a misogynist for this bc 'women's clothing doesn't have pockets big enough for a pea pod' g-d tumblr is such a joke). seriously it's not that complicated. the anticapitalist revolution isn't going to come from internet discourse, it's going to come from finding the nearest large chain supermarket, sprinting to the produce section, grabbing as many loose pods of snow peas as you can hold, and sprinting back out. will people chase you? maybe. but that's a risk you have to be willing to take for the sake of creating a better world. If You Pay For Peas, You Are Part Of The Problem.

#izzy #long post #bluh bluh

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kallie-den · 9 months

Text

Renewable Energy

Ziratha, an intrepid young succubus researcher, finds the ultimate solution to the looking Succubus Energy Crisis: a device that brainwashes its subjects back into nourishing, delicious, easily-flustered virgins - even rough, experienced, punk trans girls like Vivi

This was a delightful commission from GrillFan65, one of my patrons, and features a very, very fun TF ;)

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

“Wow. This is a succubus’s lab?” The crust punk trans girl looked around Ziratha’s research laboratory and sniffed. “I would have expected more candles. Magic circles. Maybe a few jars of goat semen or something.”

Ziratha the succubus rolled her eyes as the punk laughed at her own bad joke. “That’s a stereotype. You’d think humans would know better now. We’ve been living amongst your kind for decades now, and-“

“And succubi are simply people just like us, living perfectly normal lives, except for the whole needing sex for subsistence thing,” the punk interrupted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard the history lesson before.”

Ziratha had to suppress a groan. Alongside her PhD research, a full-time job in its own right, she worked part-time as an adjunct making minimum wage. She’d forgotten what a good night’s sleep felt like. Half her blood was coffee. She was way too tired for this.

Unfortunately for her, this punk girl - Vivi - was the best shot she was going to get at seeing her research reach fruition.

“Anyway,” Vivi piped up, “hurry up and tell me why I’m here already.”

“You’re here,” Ziratha replied tersely, “because I caught you breaking a window at the back of the lab. Probably looking for something to sell. And because if you help me out, I can delete the feed from the security camera. Got it?”

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” Vivi shot back. “HRT ain’t free, you know?”

Ziratha sighed. In truth, she didn’t hold the attempted theft against her. It was simply that the succubus really, really needed just one single research subject. One was surely all it would take to get the funding board to sit up and pay attention.

“So, c’mon,” Vivi insisted. “What do you need me to do?”

Ziratha took a very, very deep breath. “OK, let me explain. Firstly, what do you know about the SEC?”

Vivi sniffed. “Sounds familiar.

“The Succubus Energy Crisis,” Ziratha told her patiently. “We succubi depend on energy harvested from our sexual partners. You clearly know that much. However, what you may not know is that sexual energy isn’t a sustainable resource.”

“How’s that?” Vivi seemed more interested in scoping out Ziratha’s messy lab than in the answer.

“The amount of energy a succubus harvests from her partner is inversely proportional to their sexual experience,” Ziratha went on. Reciting this was practically automatic. She’d been over it a hundred times in class. “The potency of sexual energy declines after, well, sex. Especially sex with succubi. The more we take, the less they have to give. Sex with ‘well-used’ partners yields negligible energy - and furthermore, might actually kill the human.”

“OK.” Vivi laughed offhandedly. “So what? There will always be more virgins, right?”

“That’s what people used to say about coal and oil,” Ziratha pointed out. “As it turns out, no. Thanks to a declining birth rate, an increasingly sexualized culture, and a constant expansion of liberal sexual mores into untapped parts of the world, reserves are depleting faster than they can naturally refill. Humanity’s store of sexual energy is trending towards zero. Starvation for succubuskind.”

“Right…” Vivi said skeptically, before shrugging. “I don’t see what that’s got to do with me.”

“I was getting to that,” Ziratha retorted. “I’m working on a solution, OK? See, traditional succubic magiscience holds that the depletion of sexual energy following virginity loss is a spiritual-metaphysical phenomenon. In other words, completely and totally irreversible. But that’s bullshit!”

Vivi looked up sharply at the sudden outburst of passion from the succubus.

“Those idiots in the academy just don’t want to let go of their precious little doctrines!” Ziratha fumed. “They’d rather sink billions into pipe dreams than admit the textbooks could be wrong. I mean, the SuperCharm Collider? Seriously? It’s a joke! But once I get my funding, I’ll be the one who’s laughing!”

She let out a loud, rich cackle worthy of her demonic forebears.

“See, my research indicates that the source of this problem is purely neural-psychological,” Ziratha ranted. “In other words: if you can turn back the clock on someone’s mind, you can completely refill their sexual energy. It’s a perfect solution. Renewable energy for all, forever. But the Institutional Review Board won’t give me the damn funding for a proper set of clinical trials.”

“Hold up,” Vivi broke in. “Are you about to tell me that I’m your guinea pig? And… you want to turn me back into a virgin?”

Ziratha grinned, her eyes flashing behind her nerdy glasses. “Exactly! Behold my Transcranial Magical Stimulation Unit. Which I expect to be known more widely as: the revirginization helmet!”

Reaching over to her workbench, she picked up something that looked halfway between an old VR headset and a military-issue tin foil hat.

Vivi folded her arms over her battle vest. “There’s no way I’m wearing that.”

“It’s safe!” Ziratha insisted defensively. “I made sure of it. If it wasn’t, this would kill my entire career.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Vivi replied, unconvinced. Then, she tilted her head to one side, and a crafty, dirty grin slowly spread across her face. “Hey. How about you and I go someplace comfortable and find a solution to a different kind of energy crisis?”

“Huh?” Ziratha blinked.

Vivi kept grinning and winked.

“Oh, I see.” Ziratha smiled wearily. “You want to have sex.”

Vivi giggled and nodded. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” the punk girl said, “but you look like you could do with a little top-off.”

Ziratha frowned. “Rude!”

In truth, though, she couldn’t be too offended. It had been a long time since Ziratha had fed properly, and it showed. Proper, nourishing partners weren’t easy to come by. Her deep red skin had taken on a slightly unhealthy pallor, her horns were nubs, and her tail was just a thin, dainty little thing. It was a far cry from the kind of overbearingly transhuman appearance succubi could have if they were permitted to glut themselves to their hearts’ content.

Admittedly, Ziratha wasn’t exactly playing to her own strengths. Instead of anything particularly alluring, she was dressed in the universal uniform of the overworked grad student: an old t-shirt, grey sweatpants and comfy sneakers, with a lab coat over top. Her hair was tied back in a hasty ponytail, her huge, round glasses made her look like exactly the nerd she was, and she hadn’t bothered with any makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

Beneath it all, though, she still had a killer body. She was still a succubus, after all.

“What do you say?” Vivi proposed. She glanced pointedly at Ziratha’s chest. “Wanna turn those C-cups into something bigger?”

Ziratha was surprised Vivi knew so much about how energy levels affected succubi. “You’ve slept with my kind before?”

“Sure have.” Vivi’s smirk was infuriatingly cocky. “A few times. And don’t worry - they were never disappointed. I know just how to treat a girl - mortal or demon.”

Ziratha rolled her eyes at the lewd comments, but she was smiling too. This made Vivi the ideal test subject. It was what Ziratha had been hoping for when she’d first laid eyes on her. Vivi was tall, hot, and confident, and while Ziratha knew better than to judge a book by its cover, Vivi did look like someone with a certain amount of ‘experience’.

She was pure punk, top to bottom. Vivi was wearing a battle vest covered in patches and spikes over a simple, loose-fitting top, and beneath the belt she had on a pleated skirt, some torn stockings, and an impressive pair of boots. A lot of the skin she was showing was covered in ink, and both sides of her head were shaven, leaving her with a messy streak of hair that was dyed neon blue.

Ziratha would have been pretty shocked if Vivi had told her she was a virgin.

“As attractive an offer as that is, I’ll have to decline.” Ziratha didn’t bother to conceal her weary sarcasm. “You’re a guinea pig.”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess I can think of worse things than getting my ‘sexual energy’ replenished - whatever that’s gonna feel like.”

“Great. Great!” Ziratha immediately started ushering Vivi deeper into her lab before the punk could change her mind. “Take a seat, please.”

She gestured towards a chair that looked like it had been ripped out of a hospital examination room, with all kinds of wires and machines hooked up to it. Vivi glanced at the chair dubiously, but still moved to sit down.

“What’s all this, huh?” she asked, settling.

“Just monitoring equipment,” Ziratha explained. “Taking your vitals, measuring neural readings. That kind of stuff.”

“Nerd stuff, got it.” Vivi winked. “OK. I’m ready, I guess.”

Ziratha could barely contain her excitement. This was it. Her breakthrough. Her triumph. But the succubus was too much of a scientist to count her chickens before they hatched. “Here. Put this on.”

She handed Vivi the helmet she’d spent hundreds of hours designing and building. The punk looked at the strange, ramshackle device even more dubiously than she had at the chair, but she did as she was told. Once the helmet was properly adjusted, the screen mounted to it hung in front of Vivi’s face, obscuring most of her vision.

Ziratha tapped a few keys on her laptop and the screen came to life. A few lights and indicators on the helmet started to glow and flash, and the whole apparatus began to hum as the large capacitors mounted to it started to charge.

“Hey, so, how long is this going to take, anyway?” Vivi asked. The punk sounded a little less brash and a little more uncertain now. “Is this, like, some kind of long-ass meditation thing? Because I have places to be.”

“No, don’t worry,” Ziratha answered. “It’s much quicker than that.”

The succubus tapped a few more keys, checked a few readouts, and then hammered the space bar.

There was a huge, bright flash, like an old camera going off.

Vivi went still and stiff for a moment, and then groaned faintly.

“What the fuck?” she complained. “What… was that it?”

“That was it,” Ziratha confirmed. Her tail was very straight, and her voice was thick with anticipation. “How do you feel?”

“My head is throbbing.” Vivi slipped the helmet off her head and blinked as her eyes readjusted. “You could have given me some real warning, you know. So, did it work?”

Ziratha glanced at her laptop screen. “According to the diagnostics, it should have worked.”

“How’s my, uh, energy?” Vivi asked, a faintly mocking smile on her face. “Any of your fancy instruments tell you that?”

Ziratha simply returned the smile. “Oh, I don’t need any instruments for that at all.”

The succubus reached out and took Vivi’s hand, and let her demonic sixth sense for energy tell her everything she needed to know. Her smile immediately became a wide grin. Oh yes, it had worked. Succubi could always tell when someone would make a good meal. It was no different from any other predator’s sense of smell, although physical contact made it far more precise. Right now, Vivi had the scent of a ripe, untouched virgin.

This was it. The breakthrough Ziratha had long searched for. Her invention was about to change the world.

Despite such heady thoughts, though, Ziratha wasn’t celebrating. Something else had caught her attention. There was something very strange about the way Vivi was reacting.

The punk girl was trying not to let it show, but she kept squirming and shifting in her seat. A distinct pink blush was showing in her cheeks, and Ziratha could feel Vivi’s palm starting to turn hot and sweaty as they held hands.

The succubus tilted her head. Now this was very, very interesting.

“Vivi,” Ziratha said. “How do you feel now?”

Vivi couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. “I-I’m fine,” she blurted out in reply. “It’s nothing.”

Ziratha wasn’t buying that for an instant. She had a succubus’s instincts. She could tell when someone was seriously flustered. Experimentally, Ziratha lent in closer and squeezed Vivi’s hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Jeez!” Vivi’s voice was a little too strained. Under Ziratha’s watchful gaze, she twitched tellingly. “You’re just being kind of l-lewd.”

Lewd? Just by holding her hand? “Fascinating…” Ziratha murmured.

The succubus pulled away, allowing Vivi to breathe a sigh of relief, and inspected some of her equipment readouts more carefully.

“It clearly worked,” she said, as much to herself as to her test subject. “But there’s signs of something else, too… hey, Vivi. Remind me: you’ve had sex, right?”

In contrast to her earlier, cocksure attitude, Vivi now looked like a deer in headlights at the question. “W-w-well, yeah! Of c-course!”

“So your memory hasn’t been affected, just…” Ziratha murmured, before turning back to Vivi and clapping her hands. “I think I know what’s happened!”

“What?” Vivi demanded. “I mean, uh, nothing. Obviously. But what?”

“Just as I was hoping, my revirginizer helmet completely returned you to a virgin state regarding your reserve of sexual energy,” Ziratha explained. “But I theorize that it also affected some of your closely-related inhibitions, skills, and arousal responses.”

Vivi blinked. “And what does that mean? English please.”

“Well, do you remember being a blushing, nervous, inexperienced teenager, years ago? Remember how much ‘steam’ you had to blow off on a daily basis? Remember how it made you feel when a girl so much as looked at you?”

Vivi nodded, and waited for Ziratha to say something else. But when Ziratha just glanced at her significantly, the punk girl turned as white as a sheet.

“N-no way,” Vivi protested. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so.” Ziratha giggled. “It’s all connected, it seems. Congratulations. In just about every way that counts, you’re a virgin again.”

Vivi turned from white back to red upon hearing the v-word said out loud. She made to stand up. “I-I can’t believe you did this to me. I gotta get out of here.”

“Wait, wait,” Ziratha urged. She moved to Vivi’s side and calmed her with a simple hand on her arm. “I should really run a few more tests. Just to make sure.”

The succubus’s nostrils flared. She was shocked at how potent Vivi’s energy now felt. It was palpable, even when they weren’t touching. She could sense it in the air. Clearly, she had to investigate further. All in the name of science, of course.

Vivi was back to looking flustered, but she still threw a mutinous glare at Ziratha. “Y-you’re crazy! I can’t believe I even…”

Ziratha swiftly decided that if the betterment of succubuskind wasn’t a good enough reason for Vivi, she’d have to resort to other forms of persuasion. She bent down at the waist, putting her face close to the punk’s, and made her eyes very big and alluring.

“Please?” she whispered, in a voice that was suddenly soft and intimate. “Won’t you stay with me?”

Vivi looked like her body temperature had just shot up ten degrees, and Ziratha noticed that she couldn’t seem to meet her gaze properly. The succubus was sure she wouldn’t have fallen for that five minutes ago, but now she was a total sucker. “S-s-sure,” Vivi managed, in a strained voice.

“Wonderful.” Ziratha licked her lips. The distinctive virgin-scent Vivi was starting to give off was just delicious. “These readings - and reactions - are extraordinary. And I’ve done nothing more than hold your hand.”

Vivi whimpered plaintively.

“I can’t help but wonder,” the succubus murmured, “what kind of yields you might produce with slightly more purposeful stimulation.”

Vivi’s eyes registered alarm but, before she could protest, Ziratha slipped closer and planted a kiss on the punk girl’s cheek.

Her reaction was as immediate as it was striking. Vivi let out a faint gasp and her back arched slightly, even though she was clearly trying as hard as possible not to show it. But even more striking was the intensified deer-in-headlights look in her eyes, like she was desperately struggling to figure out what this meant and what she should do about it, even as she was so devastatingly flustered she couldn’t even manage basic addition.

Ziratha’s nostrils flared again. This was amazing, and she was starting to become aware of just how long it had been since she’d had a real feeding.

“Wow,” she said teasingly, momentarily letting her instincts get the better of her. “Just from one little kiss, huh?”

Vivi whined indignantly. "I-it’s not… that’s… t-this is nothing!”

“Yeah?” Ziratha couldn’t resist a giggle. “It’s just so funny - you seemed so cocky before. So experienced.”

“I am experienced!” Vivi tried to insist. “I’ve f… um… fu… I mean, you know… I’ve had s-s-s-“

Ziratha’s grin just kept growing as she watched the previously fierce punk trail off, her blush growing steadily deeper as she struggled to bring herself to actually say it. The transformation was quite the sight to behold. She had to keep pushing Vivi further. She just had to. It was part of the experiment, somehow, she reasoned. The succubus took advantage of Vivi’s helpless spluttering to press closer still and put her lips right by her ear.

“Sex?” Ziratha breathed, pouring as much suggestion and seductive glee as she possibly could into that one, single word.

Vivi looked like she was about to explode.

“You see?” Ziratha drew back, smirking victoriously. “You’re not experienced. Not really. Not anymore. You can remember that you’ve had sex before - but that’s it. And you can barely even bring yourself to think about those memories, because you might get too worked up. Neither your mind nor your body knows how to handle it.” She giggled. “Typical virgin.”

“I-I’m not…!” For a moment she thought Vivi was about to start tearing up, but then the punk girl managed to rally herself. “Y-you’re just messing with me! That’s all! It’s your stupid little machine, making me all confused. T-that’s the only reason I can’t think straight right now. I’m not, um, w-worked up.”

“Yeah?” Ziratha challenged. “Then explain this for me, please.”

She reached down and rested her hand firmly on the big, unmistakable tent in Vivi’s skirt.

Immediately, Vivi went as white as a sheet. Clearly, until that moment, she hadn’t noticed the huge hard-on she was sporting. She attempted a protest, or perhaps an explanation, but all that came out was a few strangled, incoherent sounds.

“My, my.” Ziratha licked her lips again, without even realizing it. She was so very hungry. “You see? You’ve become so adorably excitable.”

Vivi whined as Ziratha started stroking her fingertips along the surface of her bulge. “Y-you can’t just… what the hell are you d-doing? This is harassment!”

“I’m a scientist, Vivi,” Ziratha chided, in a voice that made her sound anything but scientific. “After my experiment, it’s only natural for me to give you a nice, thorough examination.”

The punk girl let out another whimpered protest, seeming to sense Ziratha’s ulterior motive, but under the succubus’s ministrations that soon gave way to a weak, pitiful moan. The new virgin was like putty in Ziratha’s hands. The power, the energy, the scent - it was all intoxicating.

“In particular,” Ziratha decided, “I think it’s only proper that I get a reading on your, ah, endurance. I really think - I really do think - it could be very, very scientifically interesting.”

Science was increasingly slipping out of view. Ziratha’s gaze was set firmly on the huge tent in Vivi’s skirt, and it was getting harder and harder to think clearly. After a little teasing, that sweet, sweet virgin energy was coming off Vivi in waves. The laboratory was thick with its scent.

Vivi was still giving the succubus that achingly alluring deer-in-headlights look, but after a moment, her willpower started to wane. She nodded. Ziratha’s nostrils flared. That made sense too. What kind of virgin had the resolve to say ‘no’ to a succubus?

In exchange, Ziratha decided, maybe it was time to make good use of some of the inherent succubic talents she’d spent all of grad school neglecting.

Ziratha straightened up and, as Vivi watched, shrugged out of her heavy lab coat. As it fell to the ground, she reached up and removed her hair tie, shaking her head to make sure her hair cascaded down around her face. Vivi was all but hypnotized by the sight.

But that was only the beginning.

Next, Ziratha took her t-shirt by its hem and lifted it off over her head. She moved slowly, though, letting the helpless punk watching her savor the sight of her tummy and cleavage being revealed. The way she slipped out of her sweatpants was even more seductive. She made a dance of it, swinging her hips from side to side as she peeled them away from her body to expose her long, sculpted legs.

The striptease left Vivi with a little trail of drool escaping one corner of her mouth. She couldn’t seem to stop leering. Her eyes were shining like she couldn’t believe her luck, and the tent in her skirt was now marked with a growing spot of damp precum.

Underneath her clothes, Ziratha wasn’t wearing lingerie, merely a comfy sports bra and a matching pair of boxers. But that, she decided, was plenty to work with when it came to a virgin.

And from the look on Vivi’s face, she was right.

“Tell me,” Ziratha panted, “have you ever gotten a lap dance before?”

Vivi looked almost panicked as she shook her head.

“Great,” Ziratha purred. “Then I suppose this will be a genuine first.”

Effortlessly, the succubus eased her weight into the examination chair, and backed up inch by inch until her naturally huge, curvy ass was pressed right up against Vivi’s hard bulge.

Vivi squeaked like a mouse.

At this point, her every little noise and twitch was like a red rag to a bull. The newly-restored virgin’s scent was so thick in the air Ziratha could taste it. Her hunger was awakening instincts she’d never known she had. Moving to the sound of unheard music, she started grinding and gyrating like she’d been doing it all her life.

The effect the lap dance had on Vivi was nothing short of explosive.

The punk looked like every bit the virgin she now was. Her eyes were wide and practically bulging, and her mouth was contorted into a goofy, uneven shape halfway between an amazed grin and a look of desperate, anxious disbelief.

She looked like she was about to blow.

“C’mon,” Ziratha mocked, in a voice dripping with honey and brimstone. “You can do better than this, right, virgin?”

Her teasing elicited another strangled whimper that just made the succubus want to push Vivi further and further. She danced her way up the punk girl’s body and turned to face her, rolling her hips as she pushed her ass back out behind her to grind into her throbbing bulge.

“Be a good girl,” she teased. “Hold on a little longer for me.”

Vivi just nodded haplessly. Her eyes were scrunched up closed, and she was gripping the sides of the chair so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Ziratha could just imagine what was going on in her head. Baseball scores. Times tables. Whatever she needed to help not utterly humiliate herself.

“Let’s see if you can handle something a little more… direct.”

Ziratha arched her and straightened her tail, daring the virgin punk writhing beneath her to open her eyes and stare at her amazing tits. Then, she reached back and used her deft fingertips to unfasten Vivi’s skirt. Vivi let out a moan that was as much protest as eagerness, but it didn’t stop Ziratha from using the motion of her hips and thighs to slide the garment out of the way, and then pull aside her panties until her hard, leaking cock was completely exposed.

Zirath’s long, forked tongue lolled out of her mouth as she stared at it, dripping drool down onto Vivi.

She needed it.

“Good news, punk,” she breathed, shivering. “You’re about to get your cherry popped.”

“W-w-what?” Vivi exclaimed pitifully.

“It’s, uh, for the experiment,” Ziratha reasoned. She was frenzied as she tore off her bra and panties. “I need to sample, uh… and, well, get a reading on the volume of…” She rolled her eyes and licked her lips. “Actually, forget the science. I’m just hungry, and you’re ripe for the eating.”

“B-b-but!” the trans girl spluttered, as Ziratha positioned herself against her cock. “I-I don’t know if I’m ready yet!”

“Yeah?” Ziratha paused, bemused.

"I mean… uh…” A bashful look came over Vivi’s face. “It’s just… I maybe… I wanted it to be special. You know?”

“Oh my god.” Ziratha snorted a laugh, and grinned wickedly. “You are going to be just delicious.”

In a single motion, she dropped her hips and impaled herself on Vivi’s cock.

Immediately, Vivi’s voice shot up an octave, and she let out a girlish cry of absolute pleasure. Right after, Ziratha’s rich, gleeful moans joined the chorus. The succubus couldn’t believe how good the virgin’s cock felt. It wasn’t just the sensation. It was the sustenance. Merely being in Vivi’s presence for the last few minutes had made Ziratha fiercely hungry. Now, at last, that hunger was being sated.

Once she recovered from the initial hit, Ziratha started moving her hips and bouncing greedily on the end of Vivi’s shaft. With each bounce, the punk girl underneath her thrashed madly in a clumsy, instinctive attempt to meet Ziratha thrust for thrust.

She mostly failed. But the attempt, at least, was adorable.

As she rode the sensitive, inexperienced punk, Ziratha started howling with glee. She’d never had the pleasure before, but it was true what they said - there was nothing like milking a virgin. Her body was humming with energy, and every time she buried Vivi’s cock to the hilt inside her pussy, the sensation got sweeter and sweeter. Something about the flavor of a virgin’s energy was utterly transcendent, and it was made all more nourishing by what it represented.

Ziratha’s complete and total victory.

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before Vivi’s moans started to peak, signaling that she was at the edge. Clearly, despite her memories, the virgin had absolutely no stamina. Ziratha wasn’t going to complain. The orgasm was the sweetest part of the meal.

“Go ahead!” Ziratha urged. “Blow your load already. We both know you can’t hold back anymore.”

With a cry of absolute, mortified bliss, Vivi exploded inside her.

Ziratha’s moans peaked too when she felt Vivi’s virile, nourishing cum paint her insides. It was better than anything she’d ever felt before. The power, the pleasure, the feeding - all of it. Ziratha could already feel her body priming itself to swell and change with the infusion of fresh energy.

The ecstatic rush of it made her greedy. She wanted more. She wanted it all. Ziratha squeezed down on Vivi and started riding her harder and faster than ever. Every bounce, every thrust, coaxed more and more sweet, sweet cum from the virgin’s cock, until Vivi was whining in blissful agony as she came down from the high of orgasm. Eventually, Vivi’s eyes rolled back into her head and simply passed out, her mind overwhelmed past its limits by sheer pleasure.

Ziratha kept riding her all the same. The succubus didn’t stop until she’d milked her for every last drop.

Eventually, though, once her hunger was sated, she slumped down next to the punk girl, giggling intermittently in giddy, light-headed glee. The succubus’s head was already filling with daydreams of fame and wealth when Vivi came to and pulled her into a hesitant, needy embrace.

“Hey, u-um,” Vivi whispered earnestly, in a voice that was anything but punk. “W-was it good for you too?”

“Huh?” Ziratha roused herself. There was something strange about the way Vivi sounded. No; about the way she felt. Ziratha had expected her to start returning to something closer to her normal behavior.

“I-I-I just, uh…” Vivi was once again turning bright red. “I-I thought it was really special. You know? Like, um, maybe we really have a connection.”

Ziratha seized Vivi’s hand again and, as Vivi stared at her hopefully, paid close attention to what she could sense from the punk girl. When the penny dropped, she started cackling.

“Oh my god!” she howled. “I can’t believe it. You’re still the same way. As fresh as ever.”

“What do you mean?” Vivi sounded defensive.

“I’m definitely going to need to hold you for some… oversight observation. Just to make sure.” Ziratha licked her lips suggestively. “But I can already tell. It’s like your brain can’t adapt anymore. Not just your energy levels. Your social skills. Your inhibitions. Your stamina. Everything.”

“What?” Vivi pressed anxiously.

“It’s the revirginization,” Ziratha pronounced. “All of it. It’s permanent.”

***

Mere weeks later, it was a very different Ziratha that stood upon the stage to make her big pitch to a room packed full of succubus leaders and investors. It wasn’t just the confidence - although she had that in spades, now that her Nobel prize was apparently all but assured. Her body had changed too. She stood taller. Grander. She exuded power and presence, and all of her body’s assets had gone from merely ‘hot’ to inhumanly mouth-watering. Her horns were a massive, knotted crown upon her head, and her tail was as deft as a whip and as thick as an anaconda.

All thanks to her favorite little meal.

Vivi was standing a little way behind her on the stage, and while physically she was unchanged, she seemed to have shrunk just as Ziratha had grown. She exuded a fragile, nebbish submissiveness despite all tattoos and piercings. She wore a choker collar bearing Ziratha’s name around her neck, and she was wearing a dress.

Ziratha liked her that way. And Vivi was no longer able to argue with the succubus.

“So, as you can see from our data, our early clinical trials have borne out the most promising of my invention’s results,” Ziratha was saying, as she rounded off her speech. “The regression to maiden status is, both psychologically and metaphysically speaking, permanent. The process isn’t damaging, but the subject’s mind naturally sheds its ability to develop new sexual skills or comfort zones, physical or social. Accordingly, their energy levels remain at peak capacity and potency - forever.”

Ziratha paused for a beat, letting the crowd of succubi sitting in front of her drink that in.

“In short,” she concluded, “they’re helpless perma-virgins. Isn’t that right, Vivi?”

Vivi blushed an incredibly deep red and looked down at the floor, but nodded.

“So!” Ziratha clapped her hands. “It’s safe to say that we’re ready to move into pre-production. Soon enough, each and every one of you could have one of my devices in your very own hands - assuming you’re willing to provide me with funding, of course. What do you say, ladies? A future of infinite, renewable energy awaits us!”

As expected, the auditorium was immediately filled with thunderous applause.

The age of the Succubus Energy Crisis was over.

The age of perma-virgin mortals and succubus dominance was about to begin.

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msfbgraves · 6 days

Text

Work vs Jobs

What I'm going to say is not in any way new - you can read Marx, Chomsky, Graeber, Bregman if you want to ponder it at length, but in the offline world it is still seen as a radical idea.

When reading about the sandwich- to- minimum wage- ratio, I saw all these Tumlblr comments basically going: (sobbing) 'fuck you, I'm not gonna buy that (sobbing some more').

So then I thought: if so many of us are cutting back on things like sammies because who indeed would pay €8 for a döner or $10 for a sandwich, how can this not cause a recession?

And then I remembered a Jon Stewart interview with some banking hotshot, saying that yes, because of the pandemic there were fewer laborers around, and yes, we absolutely had to force them to take jobs with bad pay, because supply and demand doesn't go for multinationals, so yes, they had to raise interest and prices artificially to force a recession, cannot be helped, how else would anyone work?

There's so many people who share that view, that if you didn't force people to take jobs, they wouldn't do any work, especially unpleasant work. A uni friend of mine who supports the German Green Party had argued vehemently against a basic income for that reason, because who would deign to clean the streets if they weren't forced to by threat of starvation, homelessness and having their children taken away?

And I need you all to know that experiments with basic income have proven that this is utter, and I mean utter bullshit. Even The Atlantic is seeing now, that there are people for whom working wasn't worth it because of the abysmal conditions, have begun working when the pay was high enough to justify the cost of work - in time or commute or rent.

There's this protestant view of the human spirit that suffering is somehow good for the soul, and this medieval catholic idea that the concept of "work" and "doing penance" is somehow one and the same, and therefore it is morally just to make others and yourself suffer through work, possibly to get a pat on the head from God, whose existence is taken as a given. And that has bled into the idea that jobs are

-morally just

-supposed to be awful, because good for the soul. The more intrinsically rewarding a job, the lower the wages, that's why caring for your own family is unpaid work the world over (both important and intrinsically rewarding)

-something you have to force sinful people into against their will

And both research and experience have proven time and time again that this isn't good, neither for people nor human society at large.

-First of all suffering doesn't make you a good person, ask Art Spiegelman, writer of MAUS, when talking about his father;

-Miserable workers do worse work, ask, well, any labour board in any country

-People actually choose to work for wages when the benefits outweigh the costs, ask the Finnish Government's minimum wage pilot, and the Mincome project.

If you guarantee people housing and a livable income whether or not they choose to work for wages, a few things happen:

People who couldn't afford to work less than fulltime because the cost of care would outstrip the benefit of wages, now choose to take on smaller jobs, stimulating both their wellbeing and the economy;

An increase in informal care makes sure that so many fewer people get sick (excluding antivaxxing tradwives, goodness knows what they're about....), costing the economy billions less

A greatly reduced crime rate, and far fewer incarcerations.

The reason why we're mostly not in a recession that several people who weren't working before, because of high wages, actually ARE working now and nobody needs to bully somebody out of their small business to become a barista at an understaffed Starbucks instead.

What people have been doing, however, is quitting pointless jobs that were actually killing them and keeping them away from their families.

And sure, corporations do not like that.

They need people tired and absolutely miserable so they spend their meagre disposable wages on immediate relief: overpriced food and alcohol, forcing them to clock back in until they die.

If a few employees die, that is absolutely fine. Cost of doing business. We need a critical mass of employees to replace them. You can replace a dead person with a former small business owner, no biggie.

If people get sick, they do not carry any - and I mean not any - of that cost. Society does, but they're not in society, they're in business. Money is not the means to an end, money is the entire end, no matter the cost.

They need to extract as much 'value' out of people as they can, then discard them. Again, it's not about making the employees do good work, it's about having their labour be of very short term gain, and having enough surplus people to be able to work employed people to death.

For that, they need to create poverty where, by rights, there isn't any.

And even they understand that people do not hold with that. So they conflate the idea of "labor", i.e. activity to sustain to make something new, sustain something or improve something, with the idea of a "job" - a position where you, potentially, are used to get a few shareholders richer with no regards for your wellbeing or that of your community, and if you want to get an increase in wages, you have to accept that your time spent there will be increasingly miserable. There are good jobs and bad jobs - indeed some jobs need you functioning at a minimum level of physical health, or are indeed fun, but even they will make you artificially miserable, either by forced poverty (you are a teacher! That is so rewarding! Of course you make nothing!), or moral injury (not only are you not doing anything useful, you are actively making people's lives worse). And they tell you this is necessary, like that episode in Black Mirror where someone has to kill three people or the world will come to an end. People have to be employed, otherwise the economy will tank, making everybody's lives super duper awful and nobody will ever even bother to come out of bed anymore.

There's is useful work done in jobs, but they are not the same thing.

If you guarantee people food, housing, and healthcare, they take better care of themselves, their loved ones, their environment, choose work that suits them, be it about the amount of hours or the kind of work, commit fewer crimes, spend more on fun, make more art, raise more children (their own or others), have fewer addictions. Exploitation is only in the interest of like 5 big companies in the world right now, and they exploit people so they neglect other people who also then have no other choice to get exploited until they die. So please let no one ever tell you that, because there is obviously a lot of work to be done, people have to be forced into jobs. Work is a necessary activity, a job is a place where work may or may not be done under artificially miserable conditions (or what economists think are miserable conditions. Dentists get paid so well because everybody thinks it is a horrible job; meanwhile, I've known a fair few, and those who choose it enjoy it well enough! And yes, every office has a Dwight, but those people truly are outliers).

The person who says "no one wants to work anymore" or "without jobs no work will get done" and especially "without us the economy would tank" are lying through their teeth! Especially those people who say that about "tanking the economy". They're trying to artificially tank it right now! To make people stop doing work they deem necessary and start doing jobs that benefit only the corporations!

Work is necessary, and people will always want to work, and work for wages too. Jobs are designed to be prisons under the current conditions. They will only be opportunities if you can freely choose to leave them at any time, with no risk to your wellbeing.

#wage slavery #capitalism

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