#yogs-adjacent perhaps?

[melongraph56]

This survey will contain questions that may be of a concerning manner, and could cause discomfort.

By selecting 'I Understand', you consent to this experience.

Did he really understand?

(cheeky response to @yogscastshipbracket's survey)

A zap of electricity stung the chill of night. The energy made its way down from the heavens striking an artifact in the hands of a being sitting in front of a fire, crackling against the sounds of rustling leaves blowing in the wind. The crystal gem encased with refined metals pulsed with a soft hue in his palm. He held it up as it conjured a mirage, the following words appeared:

[SURVEY_024.GF]

[PLEASE RESPOND]

It can't be... How have they sent him a message? A Yoglabs rat escapee. A better question how did they find him? He ensured there wasn't a trail attached to him when he ran. Though the message was something he didn't expect, it was a form. To be honest, if he were to receive word from the facility, they wouldn't have said a thing especially, if it was a warning if they found him.

His empty hand rose to the holographic screen created by his communication stone, reading the terms and conditions. His hand reeled back in hesitation before he could press 'I Understand', he shouldn't. It would expose him, leading him back to being captured and locked away for more testing. The underground laboratory's precious sentient being, created from a plant of unknown origin to house ancient magicks. They've been constructing a method to hone such magical strengths for quite some time and he was the product of their curiosities.

His lip quivered as his chest tightened, holding in a breath. He found himself pressing next, proceeding through the survey. Slowly his index scrolled through the form, clicking each answer that applied to him. Why is he taking part in this? More than half of the questions didn't make sense to him. This was a trap, he knows it is. However, something innate compelled him to keep responding. Perhaps it was all the testing done to him. He felt like he had to or else he'd suffer consequences if he didn't comply.

He answered as honestly as he could but by restrictions of the survey, or possibly it was his will faltering, the choices became limited to one answer.

Are you sure?

No.

The answer contradicted his response to the previous question. He could change his answers around to make it correct though that would be lying. The situation felt forced, a trick question to keep him stumped and left pondering. A common trend the scientists used against him as they quizzed him on his intellectual abilities. He was unsatisfied with his choice but he had to move on.

Is the chip in your neck active?

A hand shot to the nape of his neck, scratching at bandages hidden under his cloak. He felt himself take a sharp breath through his nose, his chest rising. There shouldn't be a chip in there, he removed it as soon as he could when he escaped their clutches.

Have you lied to me?

No.

Are you sure?

The magical artifact cracked under the strength of his grasp, his other hand tugging away at the medical dressings around his neck. He touched little tuffs of hair and bare skin as he ran his fingers back and forth searching for the wound. Where- He furrowed his brows. It should be- No... No no no. The wound, it should be here, right? He clenched his jaw as his breathing picked up. He can't- Why can't he find it? His fingernails dug into his neck, his eyes wide as he stood up. He could feel his magic swirling through his veins causing his heart to beat even faster than it was previously.

He threw the messenger stone straight into the campfire set at his feet. The fire swelled and engulfed the new fuel source, the smooth iron finish tarnished under the heat, turning black with soot. He closed his hollowed eyes and took a deep breath, allowing his body to calm itself, though he couldn't shake away that feeling. He couldn't bring himself to finish the rest survey, not like he could anyway. He opened his eyes once again and stared into the flames, watching his gadget char. The screen remained for a short period before it frizzed and faded as the last of the magic stored in the device disappeared. He caught a glimpse of the last line of the form before it was gone for good,

You really shouldn't worry about it.

A chill ran down his spine, taking in a staggered breath. Even though he was near a fire, he shivered. He packed his things with haste and left just as fast into the night.

[sparxwrites]

I'm not sure if you've answered something similar before (I can't find it if you have but knowing tumblrs terrible search function that's not saying much) but why do you write such dark sexual stories? What is it that you find so appealing in these twisted tales? Please understand this is from a point of good faith - I'm not judging and I enjoy dark stories and erotica both, only seperately. I'm just morbidly curious as to why you enjoy the combination as I see no appeal in it personally

oof, just a nice easy question to answer on a friday night, anon. okay. there’s a lot of answers to this question, depending on how personal i want to get and also like... which stories you’re talking about.

some stories i write that could be considered “darkly sexual” are categorically erotica. stuff involving weird, niche kinks, or monsters, or “dub-con” (which is not a real thing, i know, it’s a fantasy erotica thing)... the appeal there is, idk, whatever the fantasy is. they are, in my mind, written as fantasies - a fic where a character doesn’t want sex and then ends up "enjoying” having a monster lay eggs in them is obviously not what happens irl. eggs aside, no one ends up actually enjoying sexual assault. they’re written (from my side) with the air of “irl this would be Utterly Reprehensible, but what i’m essentially writing here is like... a roleplay session between two consenting partners where i am both partners”. it’s all fantasy! it’s all fake! it’s a bdsm scene or whatever where they’re both pretending/playing a role, except it’s just me writing it out with little finger puppets (either for my amusement/titillation, or the amusement/titillation of others).

then there’s... Other Stuff. see also, a lot of my percy and ripley fics. and i find it interesting that people often read those as fetish stuff because, whilst they do have sex in them, those are fundamentally horror stories. the appeal i get out of them is the same as whump/darkfic. when i write about horrible, traumatising sex where one person clearly doesn’t enjoy it, that is not a sexual fantasy for me. characters roleplaying at it, sure, me playing fingerpuppets with it, sure. but something deeply and fundamentally focused on the trauma and violation of that kind of thing is not, for me, sexual (and if what you’re getting off on is the actual nonconsent, rather than the playing at/silly version of nonconsent, i have some questions/concerns. this seems like a weird and not-really-there line, but it’s surprisingly obvious and disconcerting when someone/a fic crosses it tbh). what i get out of that is a deep sense of catharsis. i’ve gone into why i think i (and others) get this catharsis a little in my meta tag and this specific post - but, at the end of the day, i don’t exactly know. 

i think, perhaps, it is that i am a very sad person sometimes, and a very angry person sometimes, and in real life i spend a lot of time keeping both of those things hidden and pressed down, and... there has to be some kind of release valve for those emotions. with fiction, i have a safe way of managing that, both reading and writing - i can be both aggressor and victim, no one gets hurt (i find the thought of hurting people abhorrent; i nearly passed out once because a stranger was in pain from a dislocated shoulder, despite the lack of visible injury. hyperempathy is wild), i get to work through a whole bunch of psychological shit from various stuff i won’t go into... i often refer to writing as a release, or a valve, or a way to ease the pressure inside my head, or a form of venting. 

as to why sexual assault often shows up in these stories... i do frequently write whump without sexual assault, but it’s also like. a) a bunch of personal stuff that i don’t give enough of a shit to talk about, but it’s there, and b) sex and sex-adjacent stuff (often rape and assualt, but even consensual stuff!) has such a fascinating way of crystallising character/power dynamics, or stripping people bare, or exposing vulnerability, or dragging up really awful, messy, scary, painful, confusing stuff. and that makes it often a really good target when you (like me) want all those emotions in your writing because you’re using it as a pressure-valve vent, and as a way to safely experience and work through them. writing about difficult or traumatic relationships to the self, the body, to sex and to other people... sex is really good for all of that stuff. idk.

also, sometimes fics end up a weird mix of the two. i can’t think of any off the top of my head for cr, but for yogs (my previous fandom) i wrote a handful of things for a character that was essentially straight out of a horror movie and another monster character, with some real questionable consent stuff. 50% of that was “this is horrible and manipulative and just. really fucking Awful” and 50% of that was “hrnghghgh tentacles hot” so like. yknow. my brain is a weird mess i guess, is the takeaway message here.

(sometimes, there’s also an element of “can i get myself into this headspace” or “this is an interesting technical exercise” - i wrote something a while back about ripley masturbating to the memory of torturing percy, and that falls into this category. that wasn’t a fetish/fantasy thing, that was a character study, using sex as a medium to work through ripley’s obsessive, violent thoughts and strip away the veneer of imparitiality she so loves to pretend she has.)

idk how well this explains it - this is something i spend a lot of brain-power analysing on a regular basis, because i am constantly nosy about how my brain works and why it works in these weird, angular, fucked-up kinds of ways (not just with writing, the adventures of being autistic means i spend a Lot of time analysing myself to make sure i’m calibrating my interactions with other people correctly). i still haven’t entirely worked it out, and a lot of the stuff i have worked out is personal/messy enough i both don’t want to and can’t be arsed to explain it to strangers on the internet. i hope it’s given a Bit of an explanation tho, and if there’s a specific fic that prompted this comment, feel free to ask me about it specifically, bc i might be able to offer a little more insight as to my thought processes for like... a specific example i guess.