#~insert their own story~

[musclesandhammering]

Also: Maybe I’m just pressed about this because it mirrors real life, but it’s never cool to remind people that your trauma was “worse” than theirs. Like ever.

Like if someone needs to have their privilege checked or have things put into context, then yeah ok that’s fine.. But if someone is literally just recounting a struggle or talking about something that hurt them, there’s no need for you to invalidate that in any way ever. Which is exactly what Sylvie does without Loki even having to bring his trauma up. And it’s problematic cause fundamentally it speaks to the writers’ own warped views on the topic.

You don’t get an award for one-upping someone in the trauma department. There’s always gonna be someone in the world who had it worse, so if everyone made it a competition, no one would ever be allowed to talk about their pain. And that’s not healthy.

THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS

[banalhorrors]

murderbot would be a really funny story for a ‘the characters watch the show’ style fic, because you could actually jerry rig a canon way for that to happen. the first book is already an in-universe extended letter written by murderbot, and there are so many cameras everywhere you could plausibly come up with recordings for large chunks of the plot. ART probably has all of its time with SecUnit archived, maybe SecUnit’s drones recordings are backed up externally. Just give everyone some dumb breach in their data security, you can make it happen, make all the characters watch footage of murderbot nervously attending a job interview. make all the characters watch it wander around that festival with Mensah’s family and react to the musicals it manages to make time to see. The Barish-Estranza employees are there too for some reason and they are very confused about it

[nobodysdaydreams]

Me: *Knows that Y/N means “your name” and is supposed to be a substitute placeholder for the reader’s name because it’s been explained to me so often*

Me: *Sees another tumblr post with Y/N in it*

Me: “Ah yes. The infamous multi fandom character “Yes/No” is at it again.”

[theallianceofcelestials]

So @deyisacherry was curious about the Wedding AU I mentioned in my previous post, so here it is. Prepare for crack and a crossover with TSAMS.

So first of all, timelines. Over MASM it's pre-Chica introduction, and over at TSAMS it's pre-Subtle Foreshadowing *suffering screams intensify*

Beware, pure crack:

Sooo MASM Eclipse, the fucking creature, falls through a rift in between dimensions, and crawls out of the ballpit over at TSAMS's Daycare while Sun is the only in there, probably cleaning. So, in typical MASM Eclipse (is there a specific nickname for him? Like with Moonblock and Sunblock?) way the guy is raving about something - probably how much better he is, and what the heck are these shapes (balls) - and Sun, having dealt with crazy before, starts agreeing and praising the guy, so he'll leave and crawl back to where he came from.

But with the flavor of entity MASM Eclipse is, he falls for the guy who so clearly is the only sane person, having noticed immediately how much superior Eclipse is. And literally (I can't emphasize that enough) in a blink of an eye, Sun goes from being in the Daycare to walking down a wedding aisle, with the Creator strapped to a gurney rolling down beside him. He's in a white wedding suit that he doesn't know where it came from, nor how it's fitting him so well.

On one side of him, are all his family members tied to rolling chairs. Earth, Solar, Lunar, Dazzle and Jack sit in the front row with Nexus, Ruin and Dark Sun of all people sitting behind them. Lunar has already tipped his chair over and is gnawing on Nexus's tied leg. He can see Monty, Eclipse V4, Foxy and FC with Puppet behind them, along with their new dimension's Sun/Moon. A row or so behind them, also tied somehow, are Gemini, Nebula and Taurus. And in the very back row, taking up the entire row, is the Wither Dragon. Sun doesn't know how it's there. Tied. With rope.

On his other side are also tied people, a Sun, Moon, Monty, Freddy, Foxy and Roxy. The Sun seems to be switching between trying to squirm out of the ropes, and glowering at the Moon, while the Moon is staring at him, then the Sun, looking dead on the inside a little.

He's so distracted by the mind numbing confusion he doesn't hear what the priest is saying to him, only giving a haphazard "Yeah, sure." when he's asked about something. And then there's a ring on his finger. And he gets a smooch from the Eclipse. That's when he realises he just got married. To an Eclipse. Next to him, in the spot reserved for the best man/maid of honor, Moon looks just as shocked.

After a bit he's mentioning how he thought he'd be the best man on his brother's wedding, but at least he'd know his brother's significant other before the wedding.

During the after ceremony party, Sun begins to slowly untie his family's hands after Ruin mentions he wants cake, and Sun's in too big shock to be like: yeah, I hate this guy kinda. So he unties people's hands at least, ignoring Dark Sun, Nexus, the Creator, the Wither Dragon and the weird other dimensional people. Jack and Dazzle, having never been tied, are picking flowers. (Dazzle was the flower girl)

Sun, kind of afraid, asks Eclipse what they'll do on their wedding night, and Eclipse answers they'll do what everyone does obviously, Sun begins to sweat, plot evil things.

The cake is actually pretty good, which he mentions to his new husband, who boasts that of course, his chef is the best. He then points to said chef, and Sun asks if he's that blue rabbit. To which Eclipse says his chef i no rabbit, only knowing one blue bunny who's his arch nemesis, Bonnie the bunny. Who's a sheriff.

Now I kinda thought it'd be cool if the quick select inventory of MASM people was actually their belt, and visible to people from other dimensions who aren't from Minecraft dimensions, so Sun can see the glaring sheriff hat, which he asks his husband about. He's kinda shocked to find Eclipse(block????????) can't see the glaringly obvious thing there.

So he goes up to the "chef" to ask whether he's a sheriff or nah, and when a gun gets pointed at him, with a whisper of don't blow my cover, he gets kinda angry and just hits off the chef hat to replace with the sheriff one. Eclipse obviously pulls a Doofenshmirtz, and yells at everyone to get down, also pulling out a gun. So a shoot out starts happening, and Sun just backs away.

Moon suggests he grabs the tazergun that's on him, and he does so, warning his apparent husband and shooting the rabbit multiple times, because despite how sudden this is, and with whom it is, this is STILL HIS WEDDING AND HE'S NOT ABOUT TO HAVE IT BE EVEN MORE RUINED

They kinda just leave Bonnie there, and Sun tells his husband they're gonna have rabbit stew. Eclipse happily exclaims: Great! Sun get the stew, he'll get the rabbit. Then he leaves Sun there.

He turns towards the people he assumes are from his new husband's dimension, and asks if this is normal. It's important to note Monty's and Foxy's snouts are taped, and Moonblock is crying on the ground face down. Sunblock tells him yes.

Seeing as he's the only semi sane one, because the Freddy's just kind of smiling into the void, he unties Sunblock too, who follows him into the kitchen.

Upon learning the horrifying situation that's happening in MASM, he takes this kid under his wing, because what the hell, and begins teaching him how to cook. He's kind of having a freak out about how everything Sunblock cuts or peels ends up cube shaped.

Eclipse(block) returns with a "rabbit" that's actually just a person in a bunny suit, so Sun tells him it's not good enough for their 'evil stew', and Eclipse(block) agrees, throwing the person out. Before he can leave, Sun texts him an actual rabbit farm's address, so they don't end up with another human in a rabbit costume situation.

He actually tells Sunblock he's proud of him when he finishes cutting up the potatoes, and the kid begins crying so hard it's concerning. He pats him on the back a little, telling him to watch the stew, while he goes out to talk with Moonblock, to ask why he's crying still.

Freddy tells him Moonblock has been in love with Sunblock this entire time, and is just bad at expressing his affection and thought his bullying was teasing, so Sun makes an offer to coach him about it, because he knows what a Sun likes, (maybe??), so he can help Moonblock better himself so Sunblock will maybe like him. He asks his Moon and EAPS Moon to be positive role models for him.

Then he sets Jack on Bonnie, telling him he said a mean thing about Dazzle. When Solar tries stepping in, he tells him the MASM lore, so Solar decides to look away just this once. They also set Jack on MASM Foxy and Monty.

It is now a good time to mention that during the wedding, because of his loud hackling and insults, Eclipse(block??) created a remote out of a stick, a leaf and the priest's spit of all things, and muted the Creator. Other people - see Nexus - were muted in a different way.

Upon return to the kitchen is is flooded with tears, and the stew is now overly salty. Sun doesn't mention this however, deciding to add pasta instead too. Eclipse(block) return with an actual - live - rabbit, and when Sun mentions skinning it, he just stabs it, earning the loot from it. Sun is horrified to find the organs and bones gone.

He asks his new husband how to unmute people, getting told to just say unmute, and he leaves his husband with their new 'evil apprentice'. He thinks he sees Eclipse read a parenting book.

He approaches Dark Sun, hoping he has answers about what's going on, but he only gets a negative, but they both confirm it's probably a Minecraft dimension, and not a fever dream. Then Sun unmutes Nexus too, not before warning him to behave because the only thing keeping him alive right now is Sun tellin g Taurus to wait until after the wedding to kill him, because it's a happy occasion, and leaves him and Dark Sun against a table with a slice of cake each. They're still tied. (And the Wither Dragon's dead)

Sun also tells Moon about the rabbit thing, because he's horrified, and Moon asks if he could do experiments on Sun's new hubby. Sun declines for now.

They think Bonnie is dead, not being able to survive another dimension's laws and weapons, or is at least on the brink of death. Since he's still twitching.

So far it's only this, but like the future of this holds potential for a lot of crack treated semi-seriously. And also to better Sunblock and Moonblock's relationship, so they don't get to where canon is.

[kulai]

was looking up my drafts and found this little thing! pls don't mind the grammatical errors and just look at the pretty drawings !!!!!!

im actually really happy i have this. my phone got stolen last year so i dont have the drawing file for this design anymore ^_^ now i have this little reference for when step 3 releases yipee

if u wanna know more ill be dumping some info just cus! after the line break lol

A little context: I'm Filipino. so the oc lore is very much filipino-based culturally.

Ayu calls her mom "Nay", short for nanay.

She can understand her mother tongue. She can speak a little, but she can hear it has an accent and is frustrated about it.

They came from the city, where nobody really cared about anyone else's business. As long as you kept to yourself, you'd fit right in. Which is why Ayu is reserved at first, and very people-pleasing.

Although nay is open-minded and loving, Ayu still struggles to connect to her mother in the same intimate way she did when she was younger.

Her journey of identity is a struggle, and all signs lead to: Lesbian.

Unfortunately, she thinks its cause she wants to know her birth father.

A very caring person, mirroring her mother. She's confident in how to show her love, but not on how to receive it from others.

She's comfortable in masc clothing and still does make-up (just the occasional kohl under her eyes for her first year.)

Qiu and Ayu bond in their identity crises

Tamarack and Ayu bond over teasing and physical touch

etc... if i think of more

[meirimerens]

the pathologic Kin is largely fictionalized with a created language that takes from multiple sources to be its own, a cosmogony & spirituality that does not correlate to the faiths (mostly Tengrist & Buddhist) practiced by the peoples it takes inspirations from, has customs, mores and roles invented for the purposes of the game, and even just a style of dress that does not resemble any of these peoples', but it is fascinating looking into specifically to me the sigils and see where they come from... watch this:

P2 Layers glyphs take from the mongolian script:

while the in-game words for Blood, Bones and Nerves are mongolian directly, it is interesting to note that their glyphs do not have a phonetic affiliation to the words (ex. the "Yas" layer of Bones having for glyph the equivalent of the letter F, the "Medrel" layer of Nerves having a glyph the equivalent of the letter È,...)

the leatherworks on the Kayura models', with their uses of angles and extending lines, remind me of the Phags Pa Script (used for Tibetan, Mongolian, Chineses, Uyghur language, and others)

some of the sigils also look either in part or fully inspired by Phags Pa script letters...

some look closer to the mongolian or vagindra (buryat) script

looking at the Herb Brides & their concept art, we can see bodypainting that looks like vertical buryat or mongolian script (oh hi (crossed out: Mark) Phags Pa script):

shaped and reshaped...

[mythmerth]

all I’m saying is that rewriting merlin in a fic with a nativity style start wouldn’t even be that crazy. like uther as herod. hunith and baby emrys flee out of Camelot to ealdor. a prophecy of reform. an all powerful baby. druids as the ‘wise men’ bringing gifts. Magic. immortality. like you can’t even lie and say that wouldn’t work it would work dare I say too well

[hopelessfool]

CHAPTER 1: showtime

MASTERLIST

"I'm curious, have you had a chance to watch the show, yet?"

A collective sigh filled the room. This season, everyone and their mothers had tuned in to see the love is blind cast and the amount of chaos they had caused on screen. There was at least a handful of other people in this room to blame for that, yet the complete and utter attention of the viewers was fixated on you.

"Yes", a girl snickered, "we've ALL seen the Y/N L/N show by now."

As you could feel a few pairs of eyes pierce through you; hear the bitter chuckles of friends and foes alike, he grabbed your hand. And everything was okay. Everything was worth it.

As long as it meant you would sit next to him on this very couch, matching rings, matching heartbeat, you would do it again.

And you wouldn't apologize to any of these fuckers.

This is going to be fun, they said.

It will get your mind off the breakup, they said.

You need to get laid, they said.

While you couldn't particularly spot a lie in any of these sentences, you were still overwhelmed by what your friends had signed you up for. On short notice, they had picked you up, sat you on a plane with a ridiculous amount of luggage and wished you good luck.

A tv-show. One which pretends to be classy and all about real love and still manages to only cast conventionally attractive people. One in which you would have to get married to "win". Coming here, you definitely didn't plan on taking any of this too seriously. Just because you needed or rather deserved a distraction from your previous love leaving the picture, didn't mean that you wanted to jump into a marriage. Particularly not with the other Z-list-celebrities-to-be.

At least half of them had to do this for fame, you thought. And the ones that were looking for real love, well... You remembered the countless promises of "forever" and decided that the ones looking for that might be stupid.

Really stupid - from the first impressions you were gathering from the other female contestants, you could already tell whose hopes would be let down soon. Because love is not blind, at least not in the way they wanted it to be. At some point, you believed, you just unwillingly close your eyes. To faults, absence, mistreatment. Even to the lack of love.

But people are constantly aware of the surface-level aspects that they are not attracted to. Sooner or later, even when you're not able to see your dates, looks, hobbies, and even your financial situation could kick you out of the show.

So you got dressed up along with the other girls, mentally hyping yourself up for the cameras to start rolling. Though you didn't plan on saying "Yes" at the altar to anyone, you might as well get your hands on a paid vacation. That just meant passing the first phase of the show - and convincing some guy to propose to you.

You heard a jittery sounding voice through your door. "We're doing interviews now, hurry up!"

Naomi, you recognized, was one of the genuinely excited participants who fully believed in the experiment. She was here to find what you've already lost. And as much as stupidity irked you, she unfortunately didn't seem dumb. She came across as hopeful. Under other circumstances you might have respected that.

The blinking red light signaled that you were already being filmed, although the interviewer hadn't even entered the room yet. So you tried not to fidget and mustered up all your strength to not sit there bent like a shrimp. Your mind started to wake up for the first time since arriving at the studio. People around the world would see you. The least you could do was to not make a fool of yourself. Not right away, at least.

With a swift opening of the door, a man in a beige suit strutted in. With his expensive glasses and watch and the way he held himself, you could picture him as a history professor. A broker. But not as an interviewer at love is blind. You tried not to seem surprised by his elegance. Or was it arrogance? Of course he would feel above this kind of job, would he not?

He nodded his head in greeting and placed himself on the chair across from you. "Nanami Kento", the blonde man introduced himself. "I will be your personal interviewer during the love is blind experiment. I'm also obliged to tell you that you can come to me for advice at any time." You watched in confusion as his hand reached out to cover what seemed to be the...microphone? "But this is not possible without any cameras involved, so I would suggest you don't."

You could only come up with a few blinks and a nod. He looked annoyed to be here. Although you were grateful for the heads up, you couldn't tell if he actually wanted to help you or hoped that you wouldn't take up too much of his time.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Nanami. I'm Y/N L/N and-"

"Kento is fine", he sighed, "and I already know all about you." Fanning himself with what looked like your file, he added: "I'm excellent at my job, Y/N. Don't believe I haven't taken my time getting to know you."

That was the point at which you felt see-through under the gaze of Kento for the first time. Heart pounding so loud you could suddenly hear it in your ears, you sharply sucked air into your lungs. You now had to rely on your foundation to hide the warmth that had formed on your cheeks. Did he really have to phrase it like that?

"I'm here to find out everything about you that can't be put onto paper. Things that the viewers care about, things that make them root for you."

"I'll try to live up to the expactations."

A deep, hoarse noise escaped his lips - your words somehow managed to make him chuckle. The slight lifiting of the corners of his mouth made him look more approachable immediately. Absurdly handsome, actually. His face was chiseled in a way that only gods had the tools for. Despite that, you couldn't spot a ring on his finger. Unmarried and overqualified for his job. Now you wanted to know everything about him that couldn't be put onto paper.

"I'm going to start with the questions now, is that alright?"

"Ask away, Kento." You would try to win them over. The viewers, the dates. You figured that answering Kento's - for sure - well thought through questions, might get you an idea on how to win the affections of the male participants.

You were determined. You deserved some fun, a beach vacation. And you deserved the dumbstruck look on your exes face when he sees you getting cozy with other men on tv. After how he left, you weren't above being petty like that.

"Well, I can't ask you why you've signed up for love is blind. Your friends sent in the application for you, which makes you an unusual participant. How do you feel about being put into a experiment like this on short notice?" Kento had a curious look plastered on his face. You didn't expect him to actually be interested in what you had to say. As a professional he was probably able to feign certain emotions to get you to open up to him. But his stern brown eyes looked honest.

"To be honest, without a little push from my friends, I would've never thought about coming here. When they told me that I had been cast for this show, I was overwhelmed, confused, excited. But my first instinct was to ask them if they're insane."

"But you still decided to come. Why?" Moving forward in his seat, he leaned his face onto his hand, eyes on you the whole time. "Could this have something to do with your past relationship?"

Sore wound. But you wouldn't let that rattle you in the slightest. You wanted to match the professionalism your opposite offered you and not offend him with your tears or your rage. They belong to someone else. They belong in the past.

"I understand why this connection would be made. The relationship ended only a few months ago. But rather than looking for a rebound - or a husband, for that matter, I'm here to let the experience convince me."

That was unexpected. Suddenly, Kento wished he hadn't disregarded his own offer of lending you an ear whenever you needed something. For the first time at his interviewer job, someone answered one of his questions to his satisfaction. Made him want to know more.

"So, you don't believe that love is blind?"

"I'm here to find out. That's what the show is about, isn't it?"

And when you smiled at him and into the camera, he found himself looking forward to the following interviews. You were a natural.

"Are you ready to fall in love?", the hosts had asked at the end of the introduction to the show. The sentence and the following cheers from the other women rang in your ears while making your way to your first cubicle. Inside, on the other side of the wall, there would be a man waiting to get to know you.

After meeting Kento, you weren't sure how some guy should impress you as much as he did in a shorter amount of time. You would have to sit through 15 minutes with each of them and hoped that at least one of them was bearable enough to at least fake date. Eyes on the prize!, you told yourself. The prize in question being free breakfast mimosas on a hot beach.

With the first guy, you just didn't vibe, which was fine. But after five more dates of being asked specifics about your look and sex life within five minutes, you felt like screaming into a pillow and taking the next plane home.

"Do you think I could carry you on my back?", was just a watered down version of saying "You're not fat, are you?" to which you so badly wanted to reply with "Do you even lift, bro?" - You chose to be civilian and just left the room, though.

The next room you had to enter was just left by Naomi. With flushed cheeks, she ran up to you, grabbed you by the shoulders and clutched on tight.

"Y/N!", she swooned, "Y/N, oh my god. All the girls already claim to have dibs on that guy."

With furrowed brows you looked at her, having the urge to say: "I mean, the bar's not that high. Have you met the threesome-guy yet, he's disgusti-"

"No, he's really dreamy, Y/N!", she puffed, "Im so jealous that you get to have time with him, the 15 minutes were way too short."

"Oh, you're talking about Toru?" Suddenly multiple women stood next to you and Naomi with their hands on their hips. The tall blonde at the front, Jolyne, had a teasing smirk on her lips. "I doubt he's interested in you two boring country-cows. Also, I already have dibs on him. Do you know nothing about girls code?"

"Excuse me?", you spat. "I haven't even talked to him, yet. Get your hysteria out of my face, please and thank you."

You shoved them aside and continued your walk to the next cubicle, which gained you multiple offended hisses. Somehow, Jolyne's rage made having that guy to yourself sound really delicous. Fired up, you walked through the door and planted yourself on the couch.

On the other side of the wall, you could hear some faint rustling, which told you that the other person was there as well. You couldn't help but be curious. What kind of guy was able to make all of the women fall for him - or his tv personality - in just 15 minutes?

What would he tell you? What had he told them? Did he talk about how handsome he was and everyone just bought it? Did he make up some story about saving cats from trees, or about rescuing children from a housefire?

What kind of guy could literally have anyone?

"Hey there, I'm Satoru."

No, that couldn't possibly be - that had to be a fucking joke.

"Gojo?!"

"...Who?"

©hopelessfool 2024

[carlyraejepsans]

for real WHERE does the idea that [utdr humans] are nongendered so that "you can project on them" come from. their literal character arcs are about NOT being a blank slate to be filled in by the audience

i think i understand the assumption on some level for undertale, because there is a very intentional effort to make you identify with the "player character" in order to make your choices feel like your own (the beating heart of undertale's metanarrative lies in giving you an alternative path to violence against its enemies after all, and whether you're still willing to persue it for your own selfish reasons. YOUR agency is crucial).

of course, the cardinal plot twist of the main ending sweeps the rug from under your feet on that in every way, and frisk's individuality becomes, in turn, a tool to further UT's OTHER main theme: completionism as a form of diegetic violence within the story. replaying the game would steal frisk's life and happy ending from them for our own perverse sentimentality, emotionally forcing our hand away from the reset button.

i think their neutrality absolutely aids in that immersion. but also, there's this weird attitude by (mostly) cis fans where it being functional within the story makes it... somehow "editable" and "up to the player" as well? which is gross and shows their ass on how they approach gender neutrality in general lol.

but also like. there's plenty of neutral, non PCharacters in undertale and deltarune. even when undertale was just an earthbound fangame and the player immersion metanarrative was completely absent, toby still described frisk as a "young, androgynous person". sometimes characters are just neutral by design. it's not that hard to understand lol.

anyone who makes this argument for kris deltarune is braindead. nothing else to say about it.

[adhdnursegoat]

Have fun!

Per usual, link to full story beneath teaser!

Warning: blood play, obviously, and oral sex in full length fic

?

This is too much.

You’re overwhelmed by the sensory overload—the smell of sweat and fear, the sounds of pain and terror, the suffocating heat trapped beneath the blindfold and gag. Every little thing adds to the weight pressing down on you, and you feel like you’re smothered by it all. The fear, the disgust, the helplessness—it’s all too much to bear. You want to scream, to cry out for someone to help you, but the gag reduces your voice to nothing more than muffled sobs and desperate whimpers.

And then you hear it—a voice that slices through the suffocating darkness, male, sharp, and clear. It’s a voice that, against all odds, makes you feel oddly calm. Not calm enough to stop the silent sobs racking your body, but it doesn’t bring the same paralyzing terror that gripped you when the henchmen spoke. This voice is different.

"Ah, quite the pitiful selection you brought me this time."

The voice is confident, dripping with haughty arrogance. There’s a cocky undertone, a showmanship that tells you this man enjoys the sound of his own voice. As the speaker moves closer, each word is a note in a cruel symphony, and you can almost see the smirk on his face. You’re not sure why, but the sound doesn’t send chills down your spine the way the others did. It’s unsettling, yes, but in a way that makes you want to listen more closely, to hear what comes next. And, for some reason, you feel like you’ve heard the voice before.

"They all look dumb, don’t they?"

His tone is casual, almost playful, as if he’s discussing something as trivial as the weather. You can hear his footsteps now, the rhythmic clomp of boots against the floor. The sound grows louder, closer. You and a teammate knock elbows every time one of you moves, a stark reminder that you’re all lined up like cattle. There is a faint rustling, maybe the others shifting uncomfortably, or maybe just the thugs making sure none of you try anything stupid.

The speaker hums a tune, one too cheerful, too lighthearted for the situation. The absurdity of it all almost makes you laugh, if it weren’t for the tears still streaming down your face. This whole thing feels like a twisted joke, a nightmare you can’t wake up from.

"Ugly, too… I’m doing the world a favor by culling the rabble."

The way he says it is so nonchalant, as if human lives mean nothing to him. You can hear the disdain dripping from his words. He is mocking you all, taking pleasure in your fear. The footsteps stop, the sound dying away right in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat, the air around you suddenly thick with tension.

And then, after a heartbeat of silence, you feel his presence looming over you. The air feels colder, the space around you narrowing, suffocating. You brace yourself for whatever comes next, muscles tensed, heart racing.

"Oh my…” His voice drops into a silky purr, dripping with something dark and sinister. “Except for this one~"

There is a shift in the atmosphere, an almost palpable change. You don’t know why, but you feel like a spotlight has just been turned on you, like he’s zeroed in on you and no one else exists. You cannot see him, but you can feel his gaze, a weight pressing down on you, stripping you bare. He is close now, too close, and you don’t know whether to scream or stay silent.

Your mind races, trying to decipher his intentions. What does he mean by “except for this one”? Is it a compliment, a threat, or something worse? You’re paralyzed, unable to move, unable to think clearly. You try to tell yourself it’s nothing, just more of his sick game, but there’s something in his tone, in the way he said “this one,” that makes your blood run cold.

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You can feel his eyes on you, like a predator sizing up its prey. The sobs you were trying so hard to suppress start to bubble up again, fear mixing with confusion, making it hard to breathe.

The sound of boots scuffing against the floor cuts through the thick air, signaling a shift in the predator's attention. He’s right there, standing over you, and you don’t know what he’s going to do next. Then he’s moving, twisting his weight to face you, and with a rustle of fabric, you sense him lowering himself closer. The space between you evaporates, his presence invading your personal bubble, suffocating you.

All you can do is wait, your heart pounding in your chest, and the voice that once brought a strange calm fills you with a new kind of dread.

And then, without warning, a hand clamps onto your chin—a grip so cold, it feels inhuman. The sudden contact against your burning, sweat-soaked skin sends a shock through your body. There is a texture difference between the skin of his fingers and the palm of his obvious fingerless gloves. The chill of his touch seeps into you, freezing your breath in your throat. You start to pant, struggling against the vise-like grip, your body’s natural reaction to the overwhelming fear and discomfort. The gag forces your drool to spill out the sides of your mouth. The more you squirm, the tighter the hold becomes until you swear you can hear the faintest crack of your mandible straining under the pressure.

A pitiful whimper escapes you, filtering through your nose in a desperate plea for mercy. But the hand doesn't relent. Instead, the person twists your head from side to side, tilting it up and down as if examining a prized possession. You feel utterly powerless, reduced to an object under their control. His cold thumb rakes firmly across your lower lip, dragging the flesh in a way that exposes your bottom teeth as you bite down on the gag. The touch is slow, deliberate, and it sends a shiver of dread down your spine. Your breath comes faster around the wet gag, each movement of air accompanied by a moist hiss.

Your chest tightens with each huff and pant, the fear clawing at you from the inside. What are they going to do to them? To you? The questions swirl in your mind, but there are no answers, only the increasing sense of doom that coils around your heart and mind.

"Quite the little snack, aren’t you?" the voice coos.

The words slide out of his mouth, smooth and sensual, a stark contrast to the situation. It’s as if he’s toying with you, savoring the moment, relishing in your fear. You can only whine in response, the gag muffling your voice, reducing your defiance to a pitiful sound. The lilting tone of his voice feels out of place, too intimate, too wrong for what’s happening.

He finally releases your jaw, the sudden absence of pressure almost as jarring as its presence. His fingers tap your cheek lightly, almost playfully, as if sealing some unspoken agreement.

"Yes, you’ll do nicely."

And then, just as suddenly as he appeared, he moves away. The space he occupied feels actually warmer in his absence. Panic wells up inside you, and you try to speak, try to ask the burning question that gnaws at your mind.

"Nicely for what?" you attempt to say, but the gag distorts your words into a garbled mess. "NIthly her mut?!" you repeat.

There’s no answer, no clarification. Instead, a rough hand—much less gentle than the last, which is saying a lot—grabs you by the upper arm. The henchman’s grip is strong, unyielding, as he drags you to your feet. You fight against him, kicking and thrashing with all the strength you can muster, but it’s useless. He doubles down, grabbing you with both hands, and you feel yourself being hauled away. Your screams fill the air, high-pitched and cracking with fear, each screech echoing off the walls as you're pulled into the unknown.

?

Read the full length piece on ao3: In Vein

[erytherion]

Reading the webtoon and…

Does this imply that Kim Dokja also tried to write a questionnaire for her to fill in since she wouldn’t speak to him, that either he 1) never gave her in the end (especially if he couldn’t find her after she was released) or 2) gave it to her and she STILL refused to answer?

Because that is so so so so awful. It was already bad but if he tried so many ways to get her to speak and she still gave him no response, regardless of her reasoning… isn’t that still directly choosing to cut herself fully out of his life? Why in the hell did she lie for his sake and allow him to visit her if she wanted to never speak to him again?

I know everyone claims Kim Dokja is just like her in sacrificing himself for loved ones, but at least he tries his best to stay with them and to keep them in his life. He still chooses sacrifice, but it’s not because he intends to never return. He always returns (even if much later than planned).

The only time this differs is with 51%, when he STILL tried his best to stay with them - at least as much as he could.

I sometimes like Lee Sookyung, but I am mostly still SO mad at her for completely ignoring her child since he was 8 years old. Especially when he must have looked like shit any number of times from being mistreated and bullied by family, friends, army, employers.

But maybe that’s just the fragment in me being eternally pissed with her. She DOES love him, but like he says in the webtoon in this chapter - maybe such truths are painful enough to be false anyways, because they’re just SUCH bullshit. That’s not how affection should work, if you actually care about someone and want them to be happy.

[cynicalmusings]

[lieutenantselnia]

Hear me out you actually can :)

[marlynnofmany]

I just shared the first bit of fiction that the main character from The Token Human appeared in with the $10+ patrons. Hard to believe that I wrote it eleven years ago! Of course I had no idea it would go anywhere, much less to a novel with a sequel in progress, and an endless series of short stories that shows no signs of stopping.

High five to my past self for scribbling down something worth playing with a bit more. And a bit more. And maybe some more...

[sonicchaoscontrol]

[Ch. 1, Page 24]

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How hard did they try? What did they try?

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[leviiackrman]

SIMS 4 OC LOOKBOOKS: The Drakes - Jess, Sam, Tobin, Natalie, Winnie & Bailey

A new family inbound! When I say new, I mean to the sims lmao, these guys are some of my longest running ocs - from back in the early days! So glad I can finally capture this family all together cus I love them so much! Like father like son for their boy Toby, while Natalie has the most calm mind of all of them - no one knows how that happened. Wouldn’t be complete without their fur babies: Winnie and the now v elderly Bailey! (Bailey has seen every inch of this couples bullshit… she’s v tired) Let me know who’s your favourite!

Ackermans || Rikihisas || Enatsu || Kyutoku || Olalias || Hatakes || ATLA || Ginnivan || Ishimoto

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