#labarynth

[grinchwrapsupreme]

dghda fucked up so bad by not comparing todd to the minotaur

[cryptosexologist]

gin freecss might be the funniest bad anime dad like, conceptually

[moss-flesh]

hi love! female-malace is a terf. i know you don't necessarily follow them or agree with them but since you RBed directly from them i thought you might not know!!

OH JESUS thank you for telling me!!!!

[ahhnini]

going home with sevika after a couple of drinks

warnings - alcohol consumption, men and minors dni, fingering, semi-public sex (only for a little bit), tribbing, not proofread!

a/n - lit rally based off a dream i had about sevika a couple nights back, also!! slowly getting better at smut?? i think??

her gray eyes enchanted you. the softness of them; they pulled you right in. however, no amount of liquor was gonna get you confident enough to approach her. she was intimidating, and you just had to get lucky enough to get her to notice you.

you were lost in thought when you see someone’s glass slam down on the counter. following, you heard a soft grunt and the squeaking of the stool. you turn around, seeing the woman who’s occupied your mind ever since you sat down.

she brought out a lighter, igniting her cigar and taking a deep huff. you took a glance at how her thick fingers held it, noticing some scarring throughout her hand. you cough from the smoke, the small distance between you two had the strong cigar smell blowing in your face. she seems to have noticed, slightly swiveling away.

“not from here, hm?” she spoke up, her deep voice hypnotizing you. you shake your head, taking a sip of your martini, “is it that obvious?” she lets out a hum, before making eye contact with you for the first time. “you’re not used to the air down here, you’re coughing up a storm.” your lips form an ‘o’ shape as you look down, staring at your reflection in the drink. she continues, “anyone from here…I can blow smoke in their face and they wouldn’t even blink.”

you nod, meekly speaking up to reply to her, “is that why you approached me?” she nods, full body towards you now, leaning on the counter with her mechanical arm. “yeah. don’t get a lot of ‘topsiders’ here…for obvious reasons. what made you come here? piltover too boring for you, now?” you softly chuckle, “yeah, needed a change of scenery.” “change of scenery, huh?” she echos, calling over the bartender to refill her glass. “anywhere in the world,” she pauses, swirling her glass of neat whiskey, “and you chose to come here?” you shrug, shoving your martini aside and pivoting your body towards hers. “just had a feeling about this place. that i’d meet someone special.”

that’s how you ended up feverishly going down the labarynth of alleyways with her, her lips making their way down your neck. your hands make their way up to the back of her head, gently pulling her away so you could kiss her lips. she grumbled, pulling her lips away from yours. your back hits a cold stone wall, her body completely shielding you from any potential onlookers.

her hands trace the silhouette of your body, all the way down to your hips. she pulls the bottom of your dress up, exposing your soaked underwear. her mechanical hand grips your inner thigh, keeping your legs apart, while her other hand rubs up and down your clothed slit.

your breathing becomes labored, “I don’t…I don’t even know your name,” you rasp, trying your hardest to not moan loudly. “sevika.” she mumbles, eyes concentrated on what her hands were doing. “you okay with this?” you nod before replying, “yes.”

you gasp as she rips apart your underwear, the cold exposure making you shiver. you glance around to see if anyone’s looking, and you feel the warmness of sevika’s fingers squeeze your face to look at her. “no one’s here, just you and me,” a soft smile grazes her face, “unless of course, you want more privacy.” you moan as you feel her insert one of her thick fingers inside you, beginning to stretch you out. “need words, baby.” “y-yes…need more…” you hear sevika chuckle, feeling an emptiness come over your body as she pulls her fingers out.

it happens fast; she wraps an arm around your waist and drags you down more alleys, your flushed expression telling everything to the strangers of the undercity.

she laid you down on her bed, surprisingly plush mattress making you feel like a princess. as sevika straddled your lap, she took off the tank top, taking off under undergarments shortly after. her bedroom was dark; and you could clearly see the cracks that illuminated her face. your hands frame her face, hands slowly moving down her muscular body to touch her breasts, lightly squeezing them. she stifled a groan, shoving your hands away and pinning them down to your sides.

“sevika..” you spoke weakly as she spreads your knees apart, using two fingers to rub your clit. you arch your back at the sensation, her mechanical hand pushing your stomach down.

you watch her as she spreads your legs further up, knees touching your chest, mewling as you feel her clit on yours. she moves her body, creating friction between the two of you. she feels warm, inviting.

“you said you wanted more, didn’t you?” you swallow, nodding. she grumbles, lowly groaning as she quickens her pace with you. you run your nails down her scarred back, while her lips find your neck, leaving dark marks.

“fuck, you feel amazing,” she whispers in your ear. “look at that, your legs are trembling, gonna cum soon, baby?” you whine, and sevika chuckles.

“go right ahead, ‘m right here beautiful.” your legs wrap around her waist as you come undone beneath her, hair tousled and body sweaty.

tagging @nemesyaaa bc we loveeee sevika 😻😻

[tea-and-secrets]

being a trans girl is too much for me. i cant ever maintain hope because i'm being assaulted from all sides. if i ever manage to (tempoirarily) embrace inner hope that i can be beautufiul one day, I'm barraged by reminders that the medical system is a labarynth of trials and cruelty and that when you become visibly trans everybody in the entire world tries to kill you. and vice versa

<33

[flunkett]

my ideal heaven is a low poly dungeon crawler esc labarynth at 5 frames per second that extends infinitely and may or may not be completely barren of any and all life

[smallbitesized]

She ran as fast as she could through the winding labarynth the woods next to the bigfolk house. Running till her little legs ached. Running from something so much greater than herself, something that tore through bigfolk like paper. He looked somewhay like them yet not at all. Yet no matter where how far she went, he was always right behind her.

.........................................................................................

He trudged through the woods at a leisurely pace. He almost missed her killing and planning to feast on the humans who owned the house she lived in, so tiny so insignificant. But her scent, he hadn't sensed anything like it before, it was tantilising he had to devour her. she was faster than she looked, no matter he did enjoy the hunt.

[feralthembo]

Seeing who people bitch about not getting along with in the hex is so funny.

Amir doesnt like you? Have you tried being less of an asshole? Having a smidge of compassion? Maybe some patience???

Aoi is so hard to piss off literally just dont treat her like a bimbo or be cruel to anyone and youre fine

Eleanor? If you treat her, even jokingly, like a monster youre fucked. Just treat her like a person. Literally thats it. Even if you cant keep up with her conversational chess if youre nice youre fine

Lettie? Give her a break. Literally. She does so much and never asks for anything because she can handle it. If you dont MAKE her show her softness you wont see it. Ever.

Arthur. Arthur just wants you to be open and honest. Dont try to beat around the bush. If he's opening up you reciprocate. Befriending arthur is a mutual trust fall.

And Quincy. Yes his interactions are transactional. He has not only built a wall around his emotions, but a labarynth. Play the game and see where you end up. Be straight to the point, have fun, and dont let him push you away. He will try, but he can fail.

Idk i just think people blame the characters and not their appalling lack of social graces more often than not and it irks me because theyre so. God i love this game and this is gonna sound hypocritical. But theyre so tropey and predictable. I love it. But in no small part because its easy to spot the tropes and play along with them.

[yesthefandomfreakblr]

I feel like the labarynth is actually like, the capital of the gnawer kingdom (Or one of them) and the humans don't know because they like to keep it well hidden. So in the future if Ripred brought Luxa there she'd be like "Ripred why are we in the maze of death???" And Red would have to double take a bit "ThE wHaT?" As they're walking through the equivelant of downtown ratville.

[wouldvecouldveshouldve]

Labarynth and Sweet Nothing are better on piano and acoustic to me

i love their original production, but the acoustic versions will forever hold a special place in my heart

[prompt-master]

The Answer Was Within The Contradiction

A short fic: After the events of sdr2, Hinata finds himself attempting to recode Nanami. He and Kamakura talk about it

Before it all would have seemed like sci-fi nonsense to Hajime. A world made of zeroes and ones, a contagious disease made from the human psyche, an animalistic human slaughter game for outside entertainment. A synthetic girl.

There was a time before Hajime lived and indulged with this fictional world. And there was a time where he forced himself to be so interwoven with the fiction that a permanent reminder stared back at him in the mirror and whispered into his mind. All he had left was hindsight and painfully distinct memories.

"You are a paradox," Izuru told him often, "Your very existence is a word of defiance."

And once Hajime got a taste of defiance, he found himself craving it at all possible avenues.

"Haven't you already defied enough? Look around you."

Hajime knew he asked for too much every time he saw the bittersweet expression of a grieving man on Makoto's face, stark even behind a video screen. Hajime knew he was already quite possibly the luckiest unlucky guy next to Komaeda Nagito himself. He was here. He was alive. He was real. With most of his friends alive, when no one should be.

But it was that one lost friend that haunted him, that left Hajime hungry to defy the odds once again.

"There are things even we can't do."

Hajime suddenly inhaled sharply. He shoved away from his desk, allowing the office chair he was sitting in to roll back with the force. Count to ten. He reminded himself, head leaning over the backrest. He let the numbers roll over him, resisting the urge to start pulling out his hair.

It wasn’t about possibility anymore, this was about necessity. Hajime’s new life was defined by impossibilities lining themselves up into a confusing labarynth, but he would be damned if he couldn’t navigate it one way or another.

He wiped his brow, then muttered under his breath “Shut up.”

“I am free to speak my mind just as you are.”

“Yeah, well…” Hajime dragged himself back over to his desk, leaning over the computer. He was greeted not for the first or last time by complex codes weaving themselves in ways he would never properly understand. Yet, at the same time. He understood them perfectly. The breakets and loops and command lines built an unfinished art piece in his mind, one he craved to finish crafting. He began typing again, letting unknown knowledge blanket him once more. “You can at least keep it to yourself.”

“Why should I keep it from you, when we are so close to one another?”

Hajime resisted the urge to roll his eyes, Izuru really could act like a child at times. “Because it’s unhelpful. I only want to hear something helpful right now.”

“Then allow me to provide you with some advice.”

Hajime’s fingers jittered over the computer keys, stumbling to a halt. He tsked, wishing Izuru had a body outside his own so that he could kick him out of the room.

“You can not achieve your goal in the way you wish it to be achieved.”

“I didn’t ask for advice, especially not that nonsense.” Hajime glared at himself through the screen.

“It goes against basic logistics.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing that those basics mean nothing to me.”

"Allow me to provide meaning, then."

"I didn't sign up for Siri to be in my head…" Hajime mumbled under his breath. Izuru pretended he didn't hear the words.

"Coding is unique to the coder and without the original files or notes it is nearly impossible to replicate a project as complex as the one you chose."

Hajime felt a headache beginning to brew, attempting to tune out the points Izuru reiterated to him

Over

And over

And over and over.

Hajime bit his tongue, grinded his teeth, and held his breath. He tried to focus on his typing. Or the screen. But each "furthermore" and "lest we forget" caused a sizzling burn deep in Hajime's soul that made the characters blur.

"-You simply don't know what you're doing-"

With a snap and a pop the frustration built up enough that the world set itself on fire. Hajime slammed his hands down onto the desk. He was ready to strangle the man in his brain.

"Then why-" Hajime asked through gritted teeth, "Are you helping me?"

There was a great long pause. A pause where silence was his only answer. for a moment Hajime couldn't even feel the ever looming presence of Kamukura lingering over him. A few months ago, Hajime would have nearly collapsed from relief. He would have savored this sliver of peace in his hands. Instead, Silence felt synonymous with Emptiness.

Hajime roughly exhaled through his nose.

And perhaps, synonymous to Loneliness as well.

When Hajime felt the spark return to his fingers and mind, he hardly hesitated to return to frantically typing out line after line after line of code. He couldn't let the opportunity pass him. No matter how misplaced it felt.

It was odd really, getting to be so intimate with a man designed to be his replacement. But in the end as Hajime grew closer and closer by force he also realized there was an unnerving but comforting truth in their relationship. Hajime and Izuru were two parallel lines, similar in so many aspects that they nearly held the same formula, the same meaning. There was an inherit understanding of one another, and where they were heading. Despite the fact that Izuru was meant to be perfect where Hajime was flawed, Hajime couldn't help but be reminded of his younger self when he finally got to see Izuru in action.

But despite the parallelism that binded them together, there was a truth that could not be ignored. There would always be a distance between the two. No matter how close they became, they were asymptotic curves, they were parallel lines, they were never going to cross.

“... Do not ignore these valid critiques. I do encourage you to attempt such a feat, but you should be aware of what will never be.”

Hajime shook his head. He could feel the heartbeat pulsing within, he could feel the cold hand holding his on a summer morning, he could see the sweetest smile that sent sparks down his spine. She lay dormant under his fingertips, pressed between the little crevices of the keys. All he had to do was piece her back together, and then he would get to hear her say his name again.

He was pulled away from that image, as the cold bitter points reiterated themselves once again.

“AI by design is something difficult to replicate as it is ever changing and ever learning.”

“I know that.”

“As it learns, it changes how it will react to the information given to it in the future, which further shapes the AI. If this is true, it is nearly as difficult to recreate as a human consciousness, where each individual factor greatly shaped one's personality.”

“Ok. Cool.”

“And you do not have the original files that Nanami Chiaki-san was trained on.”

"I know."

“Even if you were to show this fabrication of a fabrication the killing game files, that would only offer the AI to train on it from a perspective outside of what the original Nanami-san experienced.”

“I know.”

“Then you must know that this could never be her.”

Hajime attempted to hide the burn of his tears from the

only

one

he couldn't hide them from.

In that moment, Izuru felt like a hand awkwardly hovering over his shoulder. Asymptotic. Parallel. Why oh why did they leave their Ultimate Hope so emotionally empty? What purpose did that serve? Why did they take that from IzuruHajime?

"I… simply cannot comprehend why you would willingly put yourself in the shoes of Sisyphus."

Hajime saw sparks in his vision with how roughly he kneaded his fists against his eyes. "I don't know what that means."

"This is a task that is clearly emotionally taxing for you. You have not slept or eaten properly since attempting it. I have been the one taking care of our body in your stead. One could consider this some form of self-inflicted torture. And yet you continue to push through it, while being fully aware of the impossibility of the task. All to bring her back."

"You said it yourself," Hajime mumbled, forcing himself back into those shoes. He continued typing, with a pain in his heart that felt akin to working with blistering burns on his fingertips. "I have hope. Or whatever."

"I feel as though I still don't fully understand hope."

"Did you even understand despair?" Hajime spat.

And loneliness answered.

"You can't understand what we had, either. You weren't there."

Hajime could feel the subtle rustle of Izuru's trademark annoyance, something only noticeable to someone sharing the same brain. Even Izuru lacked the emotional foresight to recognize the bristling emotion, no matter how muddled.

"I understand plenty. As the Ultimate Analyst-"

"It wasn't a statistic, it was a relationship. You couldn't understand. The only person you ever bonded with was Enoshima fucking Junko."

Count to ten. Count to ten.

Hajime didn't realize how shaky his breath had become, how furious his typing seemed. For all the bonding he and Izuru did after the Neo World Program there was still a part of Hajime that feared and resented him.

"... I believe that I did quite like the Nanami AI program."

But Hajime also pitied him.

"Did you even know her?"

"It wasn't long. We met for just one small conversation before I plugged the Enoshima Junko AI into the Neo World Program."

"So she knew…?"

"No. I temporarily shut her off before uploading it."

"Kamukura…" Hajime floundered to understand the point of all this. He just wanted to work. To create. To craft. To rebuild. He wanted her back. A part of him wondered if he was playing god but another part of him didn't care at all. He was willing to break all the rules if it meant there was a chance they could meet again.

Everyone else got a chance.

Izuru's voice was as bland as ever, but lined with softness that called his attention, "I understand why you want to rebuild her."

Hajime pursed his lips, "You're not going to tell me you want her rebuilt cuz she's some. Savant tech or something, right?"

"When I brought Enoshima Junko into the Neo Word Program, it was a test."

Hajime did roll his eyes this time. "You've told me this before."

Izuru had no clue on the proper standings of Hope vs Despair. He only knew the nonsense both Hope's Peak Academy and Enoshima Junko threw his way. With two extreme ends of the spectrum lining his vision, he found himself with a scenario he could not predict. He knew, but did not understand why, that Hajime would be placed into the game in his stead. And, he also knew that by placing Enoshima within his path he'd be creating the Ultimate Trial By Fire.

Hajime was proof Enoshima was wrong. Hajime was proof that hope could be just as powerful. Hajime was proof of the impossible. Hajime was the contradiction.

"You have a penchant for proving me wrong." Izuru said. "Perhaps you can do it again."

Maybe Izuru did understand Hajime's desperate desire, just a little bit.

After all, Izuru's photographic memory left him with an unexplainable moment to look back on. A moment he did not understand, yet could not stop reviewing.

Because of course, he remembered talking to the Neo World Program’s AI very briefly.

And even more unfathomable, he remembered quickly deciding to temporarily shut her off before uploading the Enoshima Junko AI. For what purpose? It's easy to find reasons after the fact: in case she had any safety protocols, so that she did not alert anyone of the unwanted addition, so she did not attempt to remove the file.

Izuru was the only one who knew he did it as an odd, questionable act of mercy.

He didn't think he would ever truly be able to pick apart the why's of his decision, none of it made a lick of sense. What mercy would Chiaki have truly been granted? She still would have been within the program, knowing something was wrong. She still ended up deleted, after watching multiple people she was entrusted to protect die. She left this world believing she had intrinsically failed at what she was supposed to do.

So what mercy had Izuru fooled himself into believing for that fraction of a second? So she wouldn't blame herself for the upload? So there was nothing she could have done?

Why had he even done anything in the first place? Why her?

Was it because they were both man-made creatures of hope? Nothing more than a programmable personality, the most useful tool available to their creators yet easily replaceable. Was it because neither of them were real people? Was it because, despite everything he had allowed to happen, she was happy to see him?

Or was it because the very circumstances of their births led them down a long, cursed, unlucky life?

Izuru was supposed to be a man made God. Izuru was intrinsically programmed to be able to do anything. To be even meaningless things like lucky. And yet, he wasn't. Even know, he finds himself with one of his first foggy thoughts of desire and he could not act on them. He was a God that couldn't create a miracle.

Hajime though? He was more than just lucky. He was sci-fi. He was fiction. He was the labyrinth. He was the impossible. The unknowable. The unpredictable. He was living proof that Nanami Chiaki could be reborn. His consciousness was tossed away like an outdated file, scraped and deleted without a single care. He was erased, destroyed, burned, mutilated. Murdered by his own design.

But here he stood.

He should have never been able to come back. Yet here he was, existing in a way that even Kamukura Izuru couldn’t fully understand. It was knowable, but not explainable. Why then, if this state of rebirth could exist for Hajime, could it not be extended to others? She at one point existed in this world in similar contradictory limbo, both alive and dead. Both sentient and programmed. Both human and fake. The question then was, if Hajime could survive through that same limbo, why can't she? If Hajime, a man who lived a majority of his life lacking any special traits, can be worthy of a second chance, then why can’t she?

He was proof of her existence.

“Hinata-kun?”

And she was proof of his.

[transshinonomes]

ok well i’m almost done in the project sekai custom profile torture labarynths. jokers mask took me ages. akechi’s was much easier even tho i needed a custom color and had only text to use. iiiim unfortunately experiencing Emotions again so it’s bedtime.

[nettlewildfairy]

house of leaves day 2, I have now read up to the 80’s in pages straight through and appendix ii d and e. not a lot of books have you saying things like “damn that appendix was brutal” and when you do say that rarely is it for the reason this book does.

you can feel the book turning into a labarynth slowly. It starts early as small things that are just imperceptibly odd and then it starts to pull you forward.

I always prefer books that feel like trying to untangle an impossibly coiled and knotted string.

im Not in danger of it being midnight and thinking “I can finish this tonight” which is a thought I often have on page 250 of a 450 page book that results in not getting to sleep. There’s simply too much book left for that.

decoding pages is notably difficult enough that I need a desk and a pen and paper too and if there’s a lot of that later on it will stop me from pulling an all nighter. But the 500 foot staircase description does have me pretty deeply hooked.

[qqueenofhades]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50453668

There will be more after this, but I really do want to wait until I actually read Labarynth's Heart because what comes after is (mostly) going to have actual plot. So, hopefully more updates in November.

[tiredarts-sketchbook]

A D2MC journal entry, from the perspective of my character!

transcript below the cut

I have been Risen besides my brethren for not but a decade. In this realm and form, about a month. A Huntlock's worried mind never rests, teetering between desiring the safety of a library's walls and the thrill of mapping the unknown. I've never been one for Thanatonautics, instead keeping myself tethered to realms material- though I will admit my perspective beneath the earth to be a bizzare one.

Lately, my documentations have led me to places that neatly fit neither description of death or life. A labarynth of twisting staircases and mirrored halls… a laceration through time that made Nature itself scream in agony.

I see the world with enlightened eyes! and within these domains lurk creatures that one's blade or bullet or Will alone cannot conquer. I know of one beast entirely. I spoke with its maker. But the other… Our new arrival. Our new Worm. She who is the keeper of our reality! O' Axtrazia, Last of Her Kin, Worm of Time! Aiat!

Or so She claims. I know the Worms. She is no Worm.

Her name does not fit. Axtrazia. A long and flowery name, hard to pronounce and harder to comprehend. Xita, Akka, Xol, Eir, Ur, Yul. They are short and sharp, pruned of anything more elaborate, just like the reality they work to create. Her ways do not fit. She has given freely. She has told us of an approaching war. She has distributed weapons of power to Her first visitors. She claims to wish to help. The Worms are not benevolent. Benevolence is not the way of the Deep. No, what is powerful must be taken. Taken by force of Will and Strength alone. If one's might is untested, it is worthless. One must prove their right to exist by conquering that which would obliterate them.

Her domain does not fit. Honesty, secrecy, virtue. Time is not a personality trait. Time is more in the realm of the Vex or Ahamkara than the Worm Gods. The Vex have disturbed reality across the system en masse in the last day. They've torn it asunder and pillaged the energy-marrow within. Axtrazia claims to have dominion over Time. Time can be adjusted and rewritten but utter dominion is not possible. The Vex and their Vault of Glass are the closest to being masters of Time. Their rule is restricted to its walls. The Vault does not exist. The Ahamkara can bend reality to their feeder's wish. They feast on what is between the Now and the Want. The Ahamkara do not exist.

Our answer has yet to reveal itself. Axtrazia has yet to reveal Her true plan. If She does truly control time, then what would She be doing with a pack of paracausal fledglings? Unless Her rule follows the Sword Logic as well… perhaps She intends to trap us in eternal battle, tithing to Her? I know my fellow Risen would have no issue with that. They crave violence, and see this so-called "Worm of Time" as a maternal figure. To be trapped in eternal combat to feed Her would make their dreams come true, so long as She gives them piecemeal loot along the way.

But I am not so easily sated nor fooled. I will uncover this time secret. I will map the unknown, so that my brethren have a way to escape Her coils and clutches. I will pry from Her jaws the truth, know Her ruin before She brings it.

I am the Documentator. Mazerunner. Chronologist. I am who I am, for to be anything else would be fatal. Aiat.

[flunkett]

Sorry flunkett.... Hope you escape..

like a labarynth in here