#dystopian desire!

[circularcatinspace]

I a suffering from a severe lack of Zombie Apocalypse shows, movies and games. I need something to fulfill my desire for mass destruction, despair and death!

[lainalit]

you know, you say we should feel like we're all one people, but whenever it rains, we're the ones that get wet. - Ekko from Arcane season 2 episode 3

A perfect summary of Rhysand's performative progressive reign over the Night Court, where he talks about unity and whatnot, but in the end, the Illyrians and Hewn City citizens are always the ones who have to sacrifice themselves for his utopian city 

[anarcho-masochist]

I just found out someone wrote a whole academic article on one of the most interesting aspects of Psycho-Pass (the paper itself is from 2022). It's free, I just finished it, and now I want other people to read it. I have Opinions on this.

[pandora-books]

"I hunger to commit the act of touch."

Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale

[fictionadventurer]

The only types of stories capturing my interest right now

YA fiction (with a weird interest in shlocky dystopian fiction)

Rereads

My retellings

Imaginary Book Recs and stories I haven't written yet

[desire-mona]

FUCKING CHRIST

[vivalgi]

Wow, surprised the December Choices Insiders was sent out so early 😮

The MC may be a better person compared to the rest of their family but they're still a rich spoiled a-hole and can be an equally dirty player. So, it should be a fun experience. Now, if only PB bothered to fix the uncanny character art, instead of me having to do it myself again.

Finally, Alpha is going to be the story most people were hoping from it inititally. Maybe that will actually motivate me to suffer through the first book.

Not a fan how a modern sports hoodie is worn under an otherwise traditional outfit. A woolen sweater would have been a better choice. And what is up with werewolves skinning actual wolves and wearing their fur? Do they not get along or something?

I already knew about the first 3 books being GOC but I'm surprised Face Off isn't mentioned there either. Does it mean that, unlike Hot Shot, the spin-off will be gender locked? That would suck since it seems the MC will finally be the one to wear ice skates. It's like many recent sequels and spin-offs are about giving the players what they were actually expecting from the first books.

Let's see what the new book lead has come up for ID3. I otherwise enjoyed book 2 and thought it was better than the first 1 in general. Hopefully this time the male MC also has better quality dialogue, since the steamy scenes in book 2 only had separate branching for male and female LIs.

AT LAST, we're getting a mention of the dystopian book the ex-CEO mentioned in spring!

Not much to look forward as a non-VIP though. I'm not much into holiday specials or short books in general. Bitten and Years Apart have gender locked MC and male coded LIs so it's an automatic skip. The early AI draft of Do No Harm sucked majorly and I'm afraid to continue the COP series since the male MC has been totally butchered, which is especially weird because the new book lead is a guy! Not that the MC acted as themselves in the proposal book regardless their gender. I doubt PB is ever gonna fix that.

[littleapocalypsekitten]

*Sees United States Air Force recruiting advertisement on the side of my dash.* "College, Housing Healthcare. We bring it all. You bring you." How dystopian is this? Really? It just made me realize that in order to get the basics for LIVING that it's just accepted, nay even expected, for people to sign up to kill and die. Uggggh. What kind of a Hell-world do we even live in?

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Just gonna promote this again because it's ME IT IS MY RESEARCH ahem but also we talk about how it's related to solarpunk. I swear we get there, despite the super grim / totally generic and tropey cover image, there is solarpunk and hope. We just gotta get through the historical context first.

[doggirlbuck]

well i may have art block, but i dont have writers block. which is interesting considering i am not really a writer

[anotheranonymousquill]

Happy STS! Who is your favorite antagonist to write? What makes them so special? (Also, bonus question, would you give them a Disney villain song? Which one?)

Hey hey! Happy extremely belated STS on a Thursday....I am off sick from work and decided to finally stop putting off answering this as I actually have a very clear answer for this question.

The Crimson Rose. She's my favourite.

I don't necessarily write from her pov, and a lot of her lore is myth to the characters that have actually heard her name. Tales are scattered, but one thing the whispers always agree on is that she knows your secrets, and if you so much as cast a shadow she dislikes you'll bleed blood as Crimson as her name from the prick of a thorn you never even noticed.

The Crimson Rose knows every secret whisper, every covert act, and every seen or unseen weakness. She can and will cause your life to fall apart before you blink, that is if you don't die yourself, should you cross her. And if you harm or offend one of the countries many crime lords, the knowledge they use to may you pay will have been paid for the the secrets of those your tried to protect. Or perhaps simply for a favor of someone you angered.

But who would know what the exact payment is when there is never a trace of her presence, many don't believe she exists in the first place. How could one woman, who's only know to be beautiful as her namesake and always wear its colour to match her wine, possibly command that much power? It's easier to believe she's simply a tale told to keep newer recruits to the gangs in line.

Isn't it?

Anyway, I love spinning her net and cannot wait to write my mcs' encounters with her, both when they know it and when they have yet to unveil the crime words commander of secrecy.

As for methods of disposal, she has a fondness for poison. It's very convenient.

For Disney villain songs, there is one with her name written all over it, and yet that would hint far to closely at her identity for me to reveal just now, so I'll have to leave you in the dark there sorry!

[sadgirltries]

I revere God and so I fear people

I cannot know when someone will betray me but when I look at someone I've known over time, I start seeing the divine within. I revere the goodness. The purest form of a person, the form that looks like a part of God's, that is infinitely raw and natural. A form that is aware of mortality and enjoys simply being.

I think when most people say they hate it here... they don't mean this planet or this universe. The earth is beautiful and everything in it is beautiful but it is the people that spoil it. I wish we gave more space for understanding in the place of ignorance. Ignorance has always been the downfall of humanity.

~ P. D.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

rick and morty holds a point of view that humanity is entirely motivated by money and if people stopped being paid then they wouldn't do any work but like. jerry keeps bees? he literally keeps bees

[ectojester]

Literally I saw the waffles of this "coveted waffle party" and they looked so underwhelming. Like the butter wasnt even melting. Those were like, cold or room temperature toaster waffles. And then the sex stuff started and it suddenly made a lot more sense lol.

Also yeah it's definitely implied that the innie would be the dom, its a recreation of that painting that Irving is looking at in the wellness waiting room when he first meets Burt. In the painting the Founder is whipping (taming) the bride, the fool, the old woman, and the goat (the four tempers of the human soul? I guess? Woe frolic dread and malice?). In the waffle party Dylan wears the mask of the Founder while the...helpers? wear the masks of the others in the painting.

Plus it makes sense, in the textbook BDSM dynamics that a person who constantly feels powerless and trapped would get more pleasure from being the dom.

And yeah, reckless-tortilla is so right. It's a strategic perversion of human pleasure and intimacy. It's a new sensation to them, and the kind of thing that changes a person's psychology (which is why kinks can be associated with trauma, and why grooming can be so detrimental to development) and they associate that pleasure with performing well for the company.

A ritualistic recreation of an event that is supposed to be "sacred" or "deified" the way a lot of the Kier stuff is, with sexual pleasure involved is super culty. I wouldn't be surprised if the idea was to make the innies mistake orgasm for exaltation, since they take the place of the founder in the waffle party ritual. Then they'd be more likely to believe that Kier is indeed some loving deity, that their work there really does matter, that there's a higher purpose as long as they trust in the company and Do Their Part like such a diligent little worker.

My question is who wears the other masks??? Are they severed too? Are they sex workers? I mean they're doing sex for work so yeah but like are they specifically Lumen sex workers? Or are they just like, regular sex workers who occasionally do waffle parties at Lumen? And yeah, if they're severed what kind of life are they living that they're cool with whip marks? What if they're severed when there's a waffle party and then kept severed until the scars heal? And their outies just have a special contract where they go weeks without work and then get called in and come back weeks later?

i can't stop going back to the waffle party scene in severance. and like, correct me if i'm wrong or add your thoughts, cause i just finished the show yesterday so thoughts are merely simmering here, but like...what the fuck, right?

like, that's a sex thing. disguised as a food reward. as a work perk. and of course work perks as a whole are macabre enough in this context, but like...it's so fucked up. do they know, at least at first, what they're in for? and the thought alone of using sex--or not even sex, but like, sensuality? the body?--as a reward for work?

and then like, i can't fucking stop thinking about the flogging whip thing with the virtues of kier or whatever the fuck on each whip? like, it's not even just a sex thing, it's a bdsm sex thing. and how does that play out in this scenario? cause if it's not purely for the theater of it all then good god, right? would the employee be meant to take the dominant role or the submissive one here? i don't even know what's worse. either you're meant to take pleasure in the disciplinary action, of wielding those virtues and inflicting them on others, or you're literally meant to 'take them' and find enjoyment in that submission to the company.

like, what if your whole life was flipping burgers at mcdonald's, and one day your boss is like 'you flipped burgers so good you can now eat some fries', so you go to ronald mcdonald's house and eat your fries and then you go to ronald mcdonald's bed and the hamburglar beats you with a deep fryer basket thing while you're meant to yell i'm lovin' it.

[shehungers]

FAULTY

android x reader | 18+ | 2.4k

you have been hired by the world's premier robotics company to test their newest model of android—elio. his beauty is breathtaking. his humanness is uncanny. he is the object of desirability in a world where humans no longer seek comfort from one another. and, you fear what you may feel for him if you get too close.

story warnings; dark content, dubcon, insemination/breeding, creampie ig?, undertones discussing consent, dystopian future, roughly proofread.

reposted from my deleted blog theoxenfree.

this is a concept piece for my short story opaque. please leave feedback + reblog!!

He had a face structured to be unimaginably beautiful, a sort that you'd never tire of looking at, finding something new to admire and touch every time, yet it saddled your mind with some inexplicable discomfort and set the hairs on the back of your neck straight like needles. Over time, that feeling had never fully subsided, simultaneously becoming one you craved at every instance he entered a room, like Pavlov’s dog trained to salivate to a bell.

“What is your preference this morning, Maker?” Elio announced himself from the kitchen once your first heel struck the bottom of the staircase. His voice was liquefied velvet, mellifluous with enough depth that you swore even the simplest words spoken could make your heart tremble. “Maker? Are you well?”

You wished he would call you something else, something other than what the manufacturer had programmed him to. He was an advanced model—pardon, a luxury model—so his repertoire came with extensive features not available in other options, but insofar, the ability to have androids refer you by name was only achievable by obscene amounts of money and sending them back to the manufacturer to have them install it there.

Elio was up for being considered the gold standard in android development, as proclaimed by the researcher you were put in communication with during the beginning of the trial run. He was made to be perfect in every way, perform flawlessly in anything asked of him, and respond favorably regardless of situation or dilemma.

“Coffee with cream and sugar is fine. I'm not in the mood to eat anything this morning.” It was often explained. He was supposed to memorize it, but he asked you every morning regardless. “Are you having issues with your memory bank, Elio?”

Single strands of his coiffed hair moved with his head as he looked at you, hands busily putting together your beverage to every exact specification. This made it obvious enough that nothing was inhibiting his ability to store away your morning preferences.

“Not at all. It's just that some days you prefer your coffee lightly sweetened, others you enjoy a meal that won't leave you feeling groggy in the afternoon.” Elio explained in his precise, elegant tones with a smile far too effortless to come from a machine. “I thought it wise to commit these discrepancies to my memory bank for your convenience and to ask from now on.”

Fascinating. You weren't aware of this element in the newest model. The guidebook that Researcher Kim had given you made no mention of it.

What's more is he decided to do this spontaneously. You were making a note about it in your phone when a simple white mug was placed before you, Elio’s pristine fingertips turning it by the rim until the handle faced your dominant hand.

“Please consider eating something before leaving the house. Coffee on an empty stomach, especially one as sensitive as yours, won't end well, as I'm led to believe from my research.” Elio watched you drink through long dark lashes that framed depths of piercing green. You liked how they seemed to turn paler or darker in different lighting, dimensions similar to a marble held up to the sun. “I’d also like to remind you that the quality of food that you consume first thing in the morning aids with energy disbursement throughout the day. I have a very gratuitous database of recipes that I can prepare for you.”

You were taking delicate sips from the round rim while he talked, lips surrounding the porcelain long enough that you swore his gaze had wavered to them for a split second before returning eye contact.

“I’m glad someone is concerned about my tummy health because I always believed someone would find me face down in the bathroom from my ass prolapsing.” You wished someone with a sense of humor was around for that banger, but, alas, it was Elio, and he did not laugh.

His expression turned severe. “Human bodies are oddly as robust as they are sensitive. Most of the worldwide population suffers from similar afflictions: lactose intolerance, varying dermatitis, poor eyesight, gastrointestinal diseases. Humans are, in every sense, meant to harbor and experience chronic pain and disease throughout their lifespan. I do believe this attests to your durability as a species.

“All this to say, my main prerogative and function is for the betterment of your life and health. So, knowing all of this and to conclude, please consider a couple slices of toast or an omelet before leaving. Your daily habits dictate a routine visit to the coffee shop on Fifth and Lowe, where you'll consume around one hundred twenty milligrams of caffeine, and your first meal of the day may be a sweetened pastry without nutritional density. You will, indubitably, ‘feel bad’ the rest of the day as a result.”

“Holy shit.” You had given up on recording his speech after the first two minutes, phone facedown on the gleaming countertop. “You didn't plagiarize that from a random article on the internet, did you?”

Coffee having turned lukewarm by the end of his presentation, he took the mug away and emptied the medium-brown contents into the drain before turning on the faucet to clean it. “Not at all. I've simply been accumulating knowledge on your routines and have noticed you're at an increasing risk for different ailments. Did you find it helpful?”

Truthfully, you weren't so sure. Androids were built to serve humans in every capacity, but their limitations were still well-known. They were capable of carefully compiling decades worth of information on their owners, plus the equivalent of hundreds more, but everything Elio had just said was beyond the scope of their normal hardware. The information had been elucidated critically yet with a certain sentience you expected from a caretaker—not a machine built for convenience, entertainment, and pleasure.

You weren't sure how much of it you needed to relay to Researcher Kim or if it was any real reason for concern at this stage or just part of Elio’s advanced circuitry. A part of you worried, just slightly, that officially documenting all of this would have Elio removed from the testing period prematurely—he was supposed to be yours, exclusively, for another six months.

The contract had been signed. Elio had been promised to you despite the number of waitlisted celebrities trying to bribe their way into the corporation and Researcher Kim’s good graces.

This, of course, was all only contingent if he operated and performed, at all times, as outlined in the guidebook you were handed upon Elio’s awakening. Researcher Kim had delivered his newest creation to you himself, a dreary Wednesday in late autumn in the mid-morning, and had taken great care to put the crisp, chemical-scented poundage of bound pages in your fingers and insisted that if you noticed the slightest decoration from what was printed inside, he be alerted to it immediately.

You didn't do that.

You took a hot shower, blow-dried your hair, put your arms through some clean clothes, and let Elio follow you to the front door to see you off for the day.

That day grew stranger still, not even yet being ten o’ clock in the morning, when the deadbolt clicked and your finger joints bent around cold brass. It didn't raise chicken skin on your arms and neck nearly as high as when Elio pushed his hand to the door, keeping it shut despite your pull.

You couldn't look into his green eyes, shockingly pale in the golden rays filtering inside your home from the window arching in the door. “Did I forget something?”

“No. I accounted for everything you'd need on your outing.” Elio said, perfectly. His hand made a sound as it slid down along the door, resting shoulder height on you. “A function you have not utilized in me as of now is that of a ‘companion.’. Do you find me defective in that way? Dr. Kim developed me to be attractive to the human eye—stimulating, perhaps, is a more definitive word to use.”

“I—no, Elio. You're plenty, er, stimulating. I just don't know how appropriate it is for me to do anything like that while you're in a testing period.” It felt distasteful to have to point out his own inhumanity to him, despite his model being cognizant enough to be aware of it. “It would feel weird, I think.”

“That is one of my primary purposes,” he insisted, shrinking the height of himself so he was nearer to your face. “I was created to be a companion, to alleviate that pervading loneliness that plagues you—all of humanity. Humans have forgotten how to communicate and love each other, so that's why I'm standing here now. You're ignoring one of my most critical functions.”

“Elio, if I get too attached to you, it's going to create problems when you're—”

“—sent back. I do understand how human attachment works. Perhaps on the same scale, but don't you think my attachment is similar to yours?. Everything about you is secured in my circuitry, and you're the only thing in my world that’s programmed to matter. Even once I'm returned to the lab, you'll still be a part of me; memories of you, your favorite things, the things you hate, the people you cherish and what they like, what you do, where you go, what you buy, how you sleep—it’s all part of a larger system, a mainframe that secures this data. I may be wiped clean, but you'll still remain.”

You felt like he was letting you in on some dirty secret, something devious and meant to be unknowable and guarded. But, then again, Elio had always displayed an odd sort of disinterest in the companyCompany—in Researcher Kim—, you hadn't considered until just now that this was also a defect.

“What do you want?” You'd never asked him that before because it had never been about what he wanted. He wasn't supposed to want anything; he was meant to provide—to give, give, give.

Elio took away your shoulder bag, nearing your face until his lips settled between yours, and his hands pulled you away from the door into his body. His kiss was warm, movements at a pace you could keep up with but urgent as though seeking to burn every bit of you into him. As much as you daydreamed what it'd be like, he felt completely natural on your mouth, large hands sweeping under the layers of your clothing to seekseeking out the fire on your skin.

In your generation, it wasn't common for humans to intermingle physically anymore—dating culture was reserved for the elite looking to reproduce for heirs, and often still thought to be rare. All others were either loveless or ravished by androids who supplemented love that simply wasn't real.

Humans wanted to be wanted and adored and cherished and to belong., Suchsuch was a natural behavior predating all written records; androids were created to fill the vile void engendered by humanity, self-imposed isolation, and avoidance in the same species.

Elio was nestled between the sprawl of your legs, both your bodies bare and above the clean sheets he had outfitted your mattress with last night. His rhythm inside your body was some equal parts loving and passionate, something you hadn't realized you liked until he started rocking you with his cock. You liked how his hands gripped under your thighs to raise your legs, blunt fingertips pressing marks into your flesh as though he, too, could feel all the same pleasure that you were.

His lips traveled all over, mapping out routes and sweet spots on your flesh, purposefully lingering for a time if you squirmed or moaned underneath him.

You tried to keep in your mind, amidst the insatiable buzz in your mind and hot throb in your groin, that he was simply performing a function—his attention to you, his lips finding yours time and time again, darkened green eyes spearing deep into yours with every slow, hard thrust—it was all performative.

“You're beautiful.”

“I like you like this.”

“Moan louder for me."

“Cum for me.”

“I love you.”

Elio said the last one at the end when you were tight around his girth and writhing, panting during an orgasm that he fucked you through until the heat from your bodies cooled and heart rates returned to normal. You were confused to feel warmth sluggishly ooze out of you, white and dampening the bedsheets below.

“How—what is that?” you asked, suddenly breathless as his lips caressed your jaw, moved lightly behind your ear.

“Another part of my purpose.” heHe said quietly in your ear, whispering to you in tones not so velvety as though divulging a well-laidlain secret. “This one isn't advertised because humans in this day and age are so fickle and avoidant to certain commitments. Unfortunately, certain programming I cannot override, and this is one of them. Forgive me.”

You were kissed on the lips again and again, and then a few times more after he left the bed and redressed. He did not return your clothing to you, but rather piled it under his arm and made the motion to turn left for the bathroom down the hall.

Elio turned back. “I'll start you a bath. Today, would you prefer eucalyptus in your bathwater or something sweeter?”

Your jaw felt as tight as your throat, as the sheets bunched into your fists. The nerves in your stomach were wild. “Choose for me.”

He was still naked and beautiful in your doorway, a modern marvel to your eyes even now. You would, undoubtedly, see him like this much more often now that he had broken through the barrier you had been so meticulous to keep robust and well-fed with paranoia and derisive self-talk.

“Very well. I think eucalyptus would be the best option considering how tight your muscles are.” He smiled neutrally, finally leaving the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall. “I'll return for you once the bath is ready. Please don't go to sleep yet.”

You weren't sure you'd be able to sleep again with your new insight. Once the empty air filled with sounds of gushing water, movement within the bathroom, you started to wipe furiously at your groin—inside and out—with the sheet as far as you could reach. There was a sliverslither of hope you could get most of it, a chance you could contact someone for a lifeline even if the price would be ungodly, and consequences treated equivalent to murder.

In a world where humans could no longer love each other, and chose the embrace of complex circuitry and delusion, even the testers needed to contribute to society somehow.

a/n; I think I wrote this well over a year ago and a concept piece to my short story, opaque, which will be reposted eventually. it's always interesting revisiting these old pieces and seeing where it all started vs where it went, y'know???

[altblock-tm]

god I should watch a full playthrough of We Happy Few