#t: dystopia

[kaesficrecarchive]

[yoongi x jimin]

silent running by Sharleena (1/1 | 41,668 | E)

Taehyung nods with a small smile, squeezing Jimin’s hand back. “You too. If you do runs again with Min Yoongi, be careful. Heard they’re upping patrols in the inner rings too.” Jimin scoffs. “Don’t worry, I’m never running with that guy again. He’s fucking crazy.” He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t even use his glasses. He memorizes distances.” “God,” Taehyung groans. “He’s so hot.” “Oh, shut up.”

or, the inherent homoerotism of delivering encrypted info in a dystopian society by jumping from roof to roof.

(author)

c/n: listen. normally i don't read sci-fi/cyberpunk/dystopia au's ok. i'm just not into them. but when i saw sharleena had uploaded a new 40k fic i /had/ to read it — and i'm so glad i did. this fic singlehandedly convinced me to start reading cyberpunk au's, that's how good it was!! the world- and characterbuilding is insane, and i'm just. obsessed

[carbon-fiber-internal-organs]

[liminally-spaced]

[psykopaths]

But it's not the end yet, we have this moment to live until the end comes.

[closetofcuriosities]

Children of Men - Dir. Alfonso Cuarón - 2006

[keepswingin]

"Cover your eyes--cover them."

Minho shakes him awake with something wild hiding in his eyes, fingernails pinching against his skin. He's up in an instant, panic thrumming in his chest as Minho helps him up from the threadbare sheets bundled together to make something close to a bed.

"Come on," he whispers, hard lines to a soft tone. "Hurry."

He does as he's told, allowing Minho to lead him over to the spot in the floor he's come to know better than the rest of the house. The wood creaks as Minho removes two boards from being slotted among the rest, and he is rehearsed in this, doesn't make a sound as they knock on the front door, three hard rasps that shake the very foundation of the house.

"Hurry," Minho whispers again, a tremble to his fingers, eyes flickering to the front door.

He's quick in the way he sucks in his stomach and slides between the floor, tucking himself as small as possible in order to fit. It doesn't take much effort when he's already far smaller than he should be at his age, hunger gnawing at his bones, lack of nutrition clawing at his skin. Minho waits until he's settled, and by the time he looks back up, he's already put one board back, the other hovering midair.

He looks at him for what feels like far too long, biting at his bottom lip. Torn. "Jeongin-yah," he says, almost in a rush with the way the words escape, "I'm - "

Another bang against the front door shuts Minho up as he hurries to close Jeongin in, sparing him one last glance as he walks over to the door.

There's a small hole in the wood that Jeongin always uses to spy out of, watching as Minho stands in front of the door for a moment, stiff as a board, hands squeezed into fists, before he exhales and reaches for the handle.

The door pulls open, and someone steps very clearly into Minho's space before he has a chance to say anything, eyeing him in distain. "Failure to allow us into the premises can turn into some very bad luck for you," the man spits, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"I was getting dressed," Minho replies evenly, unfazed as he crosses his arms. "And I was just searched yesterday. I wasn't expecting another visit from our valiant protectors so soon."

Something bubbles in Jeongin's chest at Minho's clear sarcasm. He doesn't know if it's laughter or fear. It was terrifying to witness, either way, and Jeongin shudders, struggling to keep his breathing steady. The man huffs, unamused and attempting to be threatening in the way he rests a hand on his belt.

"A new order passed. We're allowed to search as many times as we deem necessary if we suspect something, and it just so happens that a report was filed against you."

Jeongin's heart stops. Had someone seen him? Or witnessed the scraps Minho's been picking out of the city garbage? Was he too loud when he should've whispered? Was this his fault?

"Against me?" Minho questions, deadpan. Unflinching.

The man shoves his way past, heading towards the kitchen. He doesn't bother to answer as him and another officer begin their search, opening cabinets and rasping knuckles against the walls in search of hollow areas. The third man orders Minho against the wall without much preamble, starting his own search while the fourth and final officer stands in the doorway, common protocol to make sure it's not easy for anyone to run if they try.

Minho is rendered silent as he lifts his hands against the wall and allows the man to search him, listening carefully as the other officers make their way through his tiny apartment.

Jeongin's heartbeat picks up as they approach the living room, heavy boots shaking the wood that rests above him. Sometimes Minho will move the couch over him for good measure, but not often for worry that marks will appear across the floor. Jeongin wonders if the extra step would've helped today as the men walk about the room, slamming against the walls and tapping their boots against different spots in the floor.

"New search procedures?" Minho calls out, catching the attention of the two officers inches from where Jeongin hides away. "Someone piss the big man off?"

"Shut up," the officer beside him drones, busy taking down his information. "It was announced alongside the new order."

"Maybe you should keep up with the news," the other man quips, taking a step towards the couch. The commanding officer who had been so quick to push his way into Minho's space, however, pauses and takes a long look around the living room.

He hums and glances down at the floor beneath him, scuffing one boot against the wooden planks that had been shoddily put together long before Minho was born.

"Are you afraid we're going to find something we shouldn't?" he asks Minho, not bothering to look up as he takes a step closer to the corner of the room. Closer to Jeongin.

"I have nothing to hide," Minho grouses, far too good at playing the unknowing citizen. "Whoever filed the report, they just have a bone to pick with me. Obviously."

"Is that so?" the officer replies, quietly. He's standing above Jeongin now, two heavy boots perched on a single piece of board. "You sound nervous."

"I sound pissed off because you're wasting my goddamn time," Minho growls in response, pushing himself off the wall. The man closest to him reaches out and grabs at his elbow, keeping him from moving any further.

Jeongin holds his breath, pushing himself further down, as far as he can get from the top of the plank. His heart feels as though it will beat straight out of his chest, and he hates how Minho's next words have a tremble to them that only Jeongin would know, hates that he's so terrified, hates that Minho can only protect him so far.

What would happen next, if he was discovered?

(Bones snapped from limbs, blood seeping from open skin, his brother's angry scream as he had reached for Jeongin one last time - )

The commanding officer lifts a foot and taps it against the wood beneath him. Then he does it again, and grins.

"Something sounds hollow to me," he singsongs, crouching down. He looks over to Minho, smiling growing wider. "Is this what has you nervous?" he prods, as Minho grunts, restrained by the other officer and cuffed before he can do much else. "Something down here? Weapons?"

"Fuck you," Minho seethes, already pulling at the cuffs. "You're nothing more than a goddamn pawn for a someone who never fights his own battles."

The commanding officer gestures to the other man and together they tug at the offending plank, panic truly setting in. Jeongin can do nothing but watch as the board is pulled from the rest and the officers peer down at him in bewilderment.

They're stunned silent, expecting weapons or plans or a secret location filled with rebel secrets, but instead facing a living, breathing, human being who was supposed to be dead a long time ago.

"Holy shit," the officer whispers, looking to his commander. "We haven't - there hasn't been a hidden one in years..."

"I'm well aware," the commanding officer grits, looking over to Minho. "You're someone important, aren't you, Lee Minho?"

He turns back to Jeongin, a new fire blazing in his eyes. They both reach for him, and Jeongin tries to fight back, but it's of no use when they're so much stronger than him, cold fingers pressing hard at whatever skin they're able to reach.

They pull him from the secret compartment with barely any effort, and don't even bother with cuffing him. They know he isn't a threat once they have him in their grasp, and both Jeongin and Minho know it all too well. 

"A hidden one," the commander says, still half in disbelief as he pulls Jeongin toward where Minho stands by the front door, still fighting against his cuffs and the other two officers, "They'll give me a medal, and retirement," he mumbles, sounding all too pleased with himself. "Holy shit." 

"Let him - get the fuck off of me!" Minho yells, a rabbit trapped between the jaws of a trap. "Let him go!"

Jeongin's fearful eyes meet Minho's as the commander slows to a stop right beside the thrashing man, one hand wrapped painfully around Jeongin's forearm. The man smirks as he leans in close to Minho, eyes shining with mirth. 

"Just how important are you," he wonders aloud, "for them to trust you with a hidden one?" 

"Let him go," Minho hisses, eyes flicking over to the commander. "He has nothing to do with this." 

The commander laughs heartily and pulls Jeongin closer to him. "He has everything to do with this, doesn't he?"

Jeongin cries out as the man's nails draw blood from his skin, fear paralyzing him. They'll kill him without a second glance, take joy in it, prolong it. All the stories he's been told since he was a child, finally coming to life. 

He isn't thinking clearly when he calls for him, desperate, petrified, hurting. He isn't thinking clearly when he reaches for him, fingers just out of reach, and Minho's eyes alight. He isn't thinking as Minho reacts in tandem, screaming and shoving the officers from him so hard that they fall to the ground, his power no longer kept at bay. 

The commander drops Jeongin and reaches for his gun, but it's already too late, words dying in his throat. "Are you a - ?" 

Minho's eyes meet Jeongin's, simmering colors against the evening light. "Cover your eyes, Innie," he whispers, begs, but this voice is not his own, and his movements are that of a word no one's dared to say for centuries. "Cover them." 

Jeongin falls as the commander is torn away from him, scrambling backwards. He stares at Minho, speechless, and Minho looks back at him, but it's not his Minho, and Jeongin knows it from the moment he sees him, and that alone scares him more than anything else. 

"I'll kill you," the commander sneers, brazen as he tries to lift himself up. "Every last one of you, I'll kill you all!" 

"No," Minho says with certainty, stepping forward. "You won't."

Minho lifts his arm toward the commander, and Jeongin squeezes his eyes shut.

He wonders how he never knew the truth, if Minho knew all his secrets from the very start. 

[kittythegengarmonarch]

Out of Context Quote: “Guys like to hear that they’re hot.”

This video had a HUGE inspiration (no pun intended) for me to draw this. I’m obsessed as fuck with it. I’m really not in the mood to do my damn schoolwork… I’d rather do this…

[charliejaneanders]

https://wapo.st/3OEXuxF

Some fascinating new books blur the lines between utopia and dystopia right now. I reviewed five of them for the @washingtonpost!

If you're wondering why we have so many dystopias and so few utopias, this is for you. Paywall-free link: wapo.st/3OEXuxF

I reviewed books by Kiersten White, @temioh, Nick Fuller Googins, SL Huang and @tkingfisher. I really wanted to include the pun, "people ask why there aren't more utopias," but apparently they thought nobody would get that joke!

[jjcocker]

old speedrun 4 >> the new onr

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Roman emperor Vic au

Gained recognition on the battlefield for sneaky and underhanded and brutal tactics and eventually took the throne

It actually kind of fits. It's not like that era or region shyed away from .. uh, vics preferred style of establishing dominance over an apprentice.

-🕯

oh yeah that fits him. In most royal-type AUs Vic would prefer to be an advisor or general and stay out of the spotlight, but being someone in political power in an ancient rome-type world just suits him

Sahota as his champion fighter who never really leaves his side

[least-evil-resident]

After Raccoon

A Canon divergent/sequel/au? Where the missile that destroyed the city was aimed just a little bit to the left. On purpose.

Maybe the Simmons family illuminati stuff comes into play where the direct coordinates are fudged a bit in the final order. So that Umbrella can continue its expirements in secret. Or maybe the government did it in order to use the now quarantined city as a testing ground. Developing their own bows or cures for them? Maybe later on the various organizations like the bsaa and blue umbrella send training squads there. A slightly better version of operation raccoon city, narratively speaking.

Following the Outbreak characters through the initial events? Seeing some of them we left behind? Solving a couple mysteries like what happened to x character after.

It feels very Dying Light where the city is in shambles and cut off from the rest of the world. And maybe later on or in between we can explore the rest of Arklay county, mountains, and raccoon forest. Maybe a Max Brooks style series of chain events/encounters that lead up to and after the end. Short stories about the first hikers to dissappear, the expirements done on them. Anthology about the mysterious cannibal murders and rabid animal attacks.

And then the aftermath. A scavenger city built on the ruins surrounding the smoldering crater. The teams sent in and the survivors trying to get out. Maybe air drops of potential 'cures' or new viruses. Tyrants forming, some of them half sentient or out of control.

A survivor trying to escape the city, then the county, then the mountains and forest. Grabbing weapons and building cars, exploring abandoned or still running umbrella facilities. Only to get nabbed in the end by umbrella/the government they've been dodging for so long.

I feel like there's a lot of potential in exploring what happens after the bomb. How the country outside is handling this open sore in the Midwest. Are there protests and riots and people breaking in without knowing about the undead hordes on the other side?

Do lickers climb the battlements of the walls at night, only to get beaten back by flamethrowers and turrets? How are the people who control the border trained, and what are they not allowed to know? Is there some elite special forces black ops type squad making sure nothing escapes?

Little survivor communities huddled around trash fires, trading company scripts for rations and bullets. Posting little messages to their internal network that's cutoff from the outside internet. Videos of adrenaline junkies smashing zombie heads for twitch streams. That feels sort of Dead Island 2, or a little Dead Rising. How would Frank West handle a t virus outbreak?

And of course, Hunk. The grim reaper. Maybe his new squad is going around doing clean up, trying to get cities back online, eradicating nests. Killing whatever mad scientists or their expirements are left in underground labs. How do they handle survivor groups begging for help? How calloused do you have to be about human lives and casualties? How do you handle a Tyrant that's sometimes just a young woman who can still cry and talk, but sometimes loses her mind and eats people?

I feel like there's a lot of potential for stories to tell in the aftermath. Yeah

[carbon-fiber-internal-organs]

[toodrasticallydumb]

Summary for Utopia/Dystopia: The Trollhunter—an ill-fitting changeling—, now trapped in the Darklands, snared and brought before Gunmar The Vicious, is accursed to the same rock cage, the same stone quarry, the same endless bloodbath, the same scorching glare, the same sun-less verdict, the same viceral nature as he had once been forged in all those centuries ago. ...Well...almost the same.

STRICKLAKE MONTH IS FINALLY HERE BOIS OH YES YES YES GIVE ME MORE OF MY DORKS IN LOVE

I've been waiting around for August since the first time I saw stricklake month was a thing last year (which was coincidentally very recent into my re-obsession with the show and Strickler and Barbara in particular) so to say I'm excited to participate this year is an understatement.

I may be going overboard in a lot of places. But it's fineeeee

I'm going to try to do all four prompts (I'm undecided if I'll do both art AND writing for each but be sure I'll at least do one of the two for any given week it's the curse of being both a writer and artist, I must bear it) so here's week 1's prompt in writing form! Utopia/Dystopia! Because I didn't realize you needed to pick one! And not both! But I technically did more Utopia so!

[liminally-spaced]

[psykopaths]

Apocalypse is inevitable

[rimosdesigns]

Aethereal Awakening

Witness the rise of The Apocalypse Emerges—a haunting figure emerging from the shadows, capturing dark fantasy, surreal landscapes, and apocalyptic themes. Perfect for dystopia lovers.

www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/165315525