#but i chose violence and i'm sorry

[abrabloodycadabra]

Can we be seventeen?

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 11: Naptime

Y'all had your fun, now it's back to business. This goes from 0 to 100 real fast so please pay attention to the content warning, also adding a read more just in case.

Word count: 956

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, child death, reader descresion is advised

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It's naptime, and you're not asleep.

Oh, how you would be if you could. How you so desperately wish that you could. You stand no chance at reaching the light switch. No chance at saving the day. The only thing you can do is sit crowded in a hidden corner of the play structure with the few kids you could grab. Like a coward. Arms tightly around them to try and shield them as best you can from the danger lurking outside. 

You think, hope, pray, that some of them are actually asleep out there. That they didn't get woken up by the screams of the children who happened to wake up. The others though, god the others, you can't, you won't-these kids need you. Need you to be brave, need you to protect them. You don't think you can.

One of them makes a small whimper, you near silently shush her, pulling her more into your chest so if she sobs, it'll be muffled. She clings to you tightly, and you suppress a wince. The wound across your chest thankfully isn't deep, but it hurt, and you had no way to stop the bleeding currently. 

You had felt your entire world shut down at that moment. Witness everything come plummeting down so suddenly. Instead of not being able to look away from a car crash, you were experiencing the crash. And it hurt.

You blame yourself, even if someone else would argue it's not your fault. You didn't know. Hell, you don't think even Sun knew. Is he even okay? Is he gone too? Not until it happened. Not until you turned off the lights. 

"Alright," You turn, watching as Moon appears, "Everybody's down for the count, they're pretty exhausted from freeze tag so we should have an easy go of it. In the meantime, I found my copy of The Princess Bride, I say we find a good vantage point and get a couple chapters in. What do you say to that?"

No response. He just stares at you. 

This has been happening sometimes lately, you think it may just be a delay in the switch. You know he's been self-conscious about it, so you try to make light of it. 

You make a radio noise with your mouth, "Cht. Earth to Moon-man. This is mission control, requesting cuddles and story-time while on the job. Do you copy?"

Something clicks. 

"Ye-yes, yes, let's... do that," He shakes his head, seeming, groggy. 

You giggle quietly, "Are you sure you don't need a nap, sleepy head?"

It takes another second, you swear you see his optics flash another color before he shakes his head again, chuckling. 

"Not at all," He offers his hand to you, "Shall we?"

You grin to yourself, doing your best to contain your excitement. You've been waiting for ages to get into this book with him. Not to mention spending unrestricted one-on-one time.

You take it, feeling a rush once the two of you start flying through the air. 

From there, things are good. Great even. You and Moon are able to get through the prologue and first chapter or so. The problem arises when suddenly, the power goes out to the rest of the Plex. 

You look up, instinctively putting a hand on the arm Moon has around you, "What's going on?"

"I'm, not sure."

The sudden lack of noise rouses one of the kids, he sits up, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. 

"Ah, shoot, Morgan's up. Here, help me down and I'll-" You're suddenly cold as Moon abruptly stands up, jumping down from the play structure without a word.

Confused, you follow after him, taking a nearby slide.

You walk over to where he towers over the boy-not his usual routine for these things that should have been your first clue-and get there in time to overhear;

"It's past your bedtime."

That's, not his usual voice. Well, it is. But there's something off about it.

Morgan notices too, he looks a bit frightened by the gravely sound. 

Moon's faceplate tilts to the side, "Naughty children must be punished."

It's then that you think to look down to his hand where, when did he get claws. Why would Moon ever need claws, that kind of upgrade is only for Monty or Freddy-

He's raising his hand, Morgan is cowering. You need to move.

Without thinking, you dash in between the two, arms out wide to shield the child behind you. 

Moon hesitates, stuttering, glitching, but his hands slices across your chest all the same. 

Morgan screams, you hiss at the pain. Moon suddenly disappears into the dark above the Daycare. And kids start to wake up.

Everything from there is a blur. You remembering panicking, trying to calm down crying kids. your chest being on fire, and then everything suddenly getting ten times worse.

You still don't know what's going on out there. Out in the rest of the Plex. You don't know why no one has come to check on you all, come to save you, nobody's going to save you, just done something. But you have no way of reaching out. No way of getting out of here either. For now, you have to survive. You have to. You have to try.

You become aware of someone looking at you before you actually see the light crawl across the floor before landing on you and the backs of the kids.

Your grip becomes firmer, face more determined, as the sound of bells gets closer and closer. You take a deep breath, and steel your gaze to look at him. 

Red eyes face yours on the other side of the plastic cage.

It's naptime. And you're not asleep.

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Wow man, I was uh, yeah I don't know where this came from. Oof. Angst AND horror. My b guys. ANYWHO Three promptobers in a day, my writing brain is BACK baby (it has been gone for several weeks bc of sinusitis, but I'll talk about that more in the CS ch. 35 update) The other promptobers I've done are here if you haven't seen them already. The previous ones haven’t been as intense horror-wise as this so if you're looking for something a little chiller I would suggest giving them a try. Thanks for reading!

[curoopeez]

Remember that time some dranti said "dream stans could see a video of dream literally commiting a crime and still would defend him"? Well turns out the opposite very much holds true

[dotchi18]

The 'Real' Petal

(I've been listening to 'Open the Door' over and over for months thinking about this, and decided to write a oneshot at 3AM in one shot.

This is loosely based on the 'That's Not My Neighbor' game featuring one of my favorite Yandere Simps, Leumin, because I may be cringe, but I am free.

So, here's TNMN!AU/50s!AU

Leumin Holiday was created by @hime-bee )

----

Leumin didn't really pay much attention to his neighbors.

In a world where anything could happen to you when you were in the outside world, getting close to your neighbors would likely earn your head getting ripped clean off your shoulders should anything happen to them.

Sure, he knew them vaguely by their faces, but that was more out of self-preservation than any real care about them or their lives.

Go to work as a Florist, Go home.

Work, Home, Work, Home, Work, Home.

Maybe go to the store and have a little chat from going completely insane with his Book Club friend Seal.

But life was pretty listless, it was a wonder to him how some people could grasp human connection at all.

It was so draining and bled so much out of him, that when he first met her, he just kind of felt relief.

There was no wondering if a monster would come and take someone away from you if you already knew they were a monster.

It had been pouring, the sky above dim despite the slight warmth causing a humidity in the air, and very few people were outside.

Stationed behind the counter, Leumin leaned against it as he waited for his shift to simply end.

The likelihood of anyone coming in at all was slim at best, at this point there was nothing to do when he had done all of the chores earlier.

It was when he looked down to take a sip of water that a hooded figure rushed into the shop, the bell chime clanging at the force as the figure moved to the side, staying close to the window as they crouched to shrink at the very edge.

Immediately straightening up, Leumin reached to the bat tucked under the counter.

It was strange to him how more people didn't do such a thing, and seemed even offended if you carried a weapon around them.

If more people were more cautious, the doppelgangers probably wouldn't be such a problem, after all.

Walking over, he noticed the figure was watching someone else outside, trembling.

He glanced outside, and noticed from the bright red hair that it was someone that was from his apartment complex.

Not many people had hair like her after all.

Which made it all the more alarming when he saw the exact same curls falling from the hood.

Gripping the bat tighter, he kept a good distance, on guard, but also noticing the trembling.

" Can I help you?"

The figure froze before looking over to Leumin.

It was almost comical, the way the creature had shoddily slapped together the eyes, nose and mouth of his neighbor, but it was in such a way it was like he was looking at a Picasso painting.

It caught him off guard, that and the tears that were running from it's weirdly placed eyes.

" I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" The creature croaked as it covered it's face, " I'm trying, I'm trying."

Keeping his distance still from it, the young man shifted, bangs still covering his eyes as he looked from the creature to the window and then back.

What the hell was even happening here?

" Don't kill me, please, I'm just-" The creature sniffled and coughed.

" Take a breath." Leumin couldn't help but feel a bit bad, the creature shuddering with sobs.

It was hard to think of taking the life of something that was acting like a lost child.

The creature took another shuddering breath before focusing more on him, looking back to the woman whom was long gone before back to him again.

" ..."

The silence was awkward before the creature moved to stand, " I-I'm going to go..."

" Looking like that?" Leumin couldn't help but voice, gesturing vaguely at their face, " Uh... You sure?"

The creature seemed a bit more upset as it reached up and actively pushed at their features, trying to fix them, " I'm sorry... I-I tried to copy this woman... but her features were b-blurry from the rain..."

" Mm... Yeah." Leu looked around the street before back to the creature, a few beats passing.

' Fuck it.'

Deciding life wasn't that worth it, he moved to it, the creature flinching before he offered his hand, " Come on, let's fix it."

" H-Huh?"

" Your face. It shouldn't look like that." His words were blunt, but the creature didn't seem to mind, tentatively reaching their own hand to him, Leumin noted that they had to remember to put fingernails on their hand.

" Th-Thank you..."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

By the end of his shift, Leumin had helped the creature craft their face in the back of the flower shop, thanks to a few pictures the owner had that could help them with composition.

A lot of it was based on memory, though he couldn't for the life of him remember what color his neighbor's eyes were, the color faded and watery on the creature's face.

" What's your favorite color?" The creature asked as they watched him.

It caught him off guard, so he took a beat before answering.

" Lilac."

It was then the creature closed their eyes, and when they opened them, the lilac color stared back at him.

" Thank you."

He felt his heart flip in his ribcage, his cheeks growing hot.

Why did they...???

" Do you have a name?" He asked as he stared.

" U-Um, I call myself Dotchi." The creature answered, scratching at their cheek with one of their new nails.

No, not the creature.

She didn't do anything wrong.

" I'm Leumin." He offered a hand to her, letting her shake it, this being the actual first time they touched as he wrapped his fingers around her hand tighter.

This world was fraught with danger, but she wasn't going to be one of the ones experienced it, because technically she was the danger.

But she didn't seem like she would hurt anyone.

Delicate like a little Petal...

And then it came to mind.

Curfew.

It was one of the things implemented to help keep the citizens safe, but it meant that anyone after a certain period was treated with immediate suspicion.

He could hide her in the back of the Flower Shop for a while, but considering she wasn't very good at human interaction much at all, and that people are checked at the door...

It was a kill or be killed world out there, he would have to make do for her.

[catboygirljoker]

normal normal normal normal i hate the word normal. i hate people using it as a stand-in for "kind" or "compassionate". i hate people using it as an unmitigated positive. im white and able bodied and can pass as cis and neurotypical in a pinch but im autistic bi and trans i am not "normal" and even i have been hurt by uses of that word can you imagine how much worse it is for people who don't pass as neurotypical or cis or aren't white or able bodied. saw someone praising someone else for being "normal" about kink artists and you know what it looks like to be "normal" about kink? it means disparaging it. treating it as inherently dirty and amoral unless in the very specific forms that have become pop culture signifiers. it is in fact very "normal" to be awful to kink artists.

im still mad at that one post thats like "be normal about intersex people!" / "no, no, people are sexualizing intersex people in the reblogs, i meant be NORMAL!" and its like yeah buddy. sexualizing intersex people without their consent in inappropriate situations IS normal. if you wanted people to be compassionate to intersex people and humanize them you should've said that. instead of appealing to "normalcy". like even if the word "normal" DID mean only positive things you fucked up when you used an extremely vague word that means different things to different people in different contexts and expected them to know exactly what you meant

[arikitari-josei-osaka-naru]

Submission for @smvillainsweek 2024, Day 6: Sin (against nature) Content warning: violence, blood, corpses, medical imagery, harm to Tiger's Eye

The beautiful(?) dream of the girl who wanted to become a nurse; a mirror put back together with tape and love.

Alternate coloration:

[nyan-bynary]

Dead gojo (both times) is the most ethereal and prettiest he's ever looked I'm so insane about him he's literally SO FUCKING PRETTY bleeding out to death

[holysaintscathedral]

"Bop lore" we get it, you're a lonely single man who has never had a meaningful long-term relationship with a woman because you are incapable of viewing them as complex human beings worthy of being treated with respect and dignity regardless of any sexual trauma and experiences they may have, and instead villify them and disregard their humanity and inherent worth as people because you're so lost in the patriachal Kool-Aid that divides women into either disgusting whores (expendable property) or fragile virgins (valuable property).

[videcoeur]

Lexi @muselexum casually waltzing in on my tumblr dashboard, expecting to take things slow and stuff

me: instantly sends some crockane angst to her inbox

[evilblot]

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 24: Error

Mmmm yeah gonna be honest with you all? I chose violence with this, pretty short, but-well, you'll see

Word count: 251

Content warning: Mentions of blood, injury, death, reader discresion is advised

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Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. There's something wrong. There's something very, very wrong.

-Don't understand. Don't understand. 

What's happening? Something's happened. 

I can't think. I can't move.

A touch. 

Look down. Look down-

You.

It's you.

Restoring memory capture. -files corrupted.

You're laughing, hand over your mouth in a poor attempt to keep the giggles from spilling out. 

Static. 

Warning. Files corrupted.

Your hands feel warm as you cradle their faceplate, staring up with pure adoration while sitting in Sun's lap. Your smile breaks into a grin and you laugh. 

Static.

Warning. Files corrupted.

You glance up from your book, soft smile on your face while you lay face to face on the floor with the naptime attendant. You reach a hand up and boop his nose, giggling softly.

Static.

Warning. Files corrupted.

Laughter. You're laughing. Right? As you hold your stomach, red, red, red, staining your shirt. You're gasping between laughs. You're laughing so hard that you're crying. 

Crying. You're crying. Why are you crying?

WARNING. FILES CORRUPTED.

ERROR ERORR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERORR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERORR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERORR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERORR ERROR ERROR ERROR-

A cough. 

Look down.

You.

You're hurt.

Did I do this? 

No, surely not. I wouldn't have. Would never.

You smile, weakly. Your hand shakily reaches up. 

Lean down.

Warm. Not like it's supposed to be.

Your voice is a whisper, "I-it's. It's okay. It's okay."

It's not okay.

Your hand slips. Your eyes flutter close.

Alone. Alone. 

Alone.

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Well, that was something, here's the note I wrote for this to help lighten to mood (though probably not):

If you don't hate me after this you can read my other promptobers here, thanks for reading!

[prothos]

You know what I love (as sarcastically as I can manage)? When you search for tags of a character and most of what you find is that character in the subtext of a post, completely shrouded by another character who bears a different complexion.

[mad-hunts]

i honestly feel like even going to a rage room wouldn't help barton because, since people would still be watching him in a way (through the cameras and such) he'd feel like he'd have to hold some of his anger back and thus, the whole thing wouldn't feel anywhere near as cathartic to him as it should be. no... barton just needs to be able to go back to his childhood home and smash everything. and i mean, of course it wouldn't solve everything, but in his mind — at least it'd make him feel a little better.

[oksanas-sun]

The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

So I hung my head and I cried

[sevicia]

Mettaton: You've been a great audience.

mfw

[duncanor]

I want y'all to know that all my angsty posts about Trigun are either writen 5 minutes after I woke up or at 3 am.