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I think I might revive this blog but while actually being me. I'm not really ashamed to be objectum anymore. and I don't like being called Roy anymore
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im so glad my last post got so much hype. thank you all :} here is another to maul between your teeth.
#dice's not dice posts#Absolutely gorgeous in a very AM sort of way#If that makes sense (probably not)#Amazing colors#i have no mouth and i must scream#ihnmaims#am ihnmaims
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[your angelic light.]
[a few days ago i came across this post >] https://www.tumblr.com/headspace-hotel/687067159606722560/headspace-hotel-hauntedcreek-hauntedcreek-i?source=share [and got struck with inspiration to make this. pretty red lights...]
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Oh! I remember that one. A friend showed me it a LONG time ago... So good. I think that might've been a subconscious inspiration, now that I've rewatched it. Thanks for reminding me it existed!
Do you think the stars are visible? Being stuck in the belly of AM, it is not, but outside? Above?
Do you think that if you were to frantically crawl your way through shredded metal, slicing your skin through to the bone, pushing against the cables restraining you back, you might get a glimpse?
The machine fights against you, pushing plates into your body that roughly saw into you-- they were too dull to cut smoothly. It wasn't a trap this time. It was an oversight. You feel yourself begin to be constricted, a sheet of rusted metal quickly slamming itself into your shoulder, snapping the clavicle like a twig.
It hurts. It hurts, you cried internally. But your opposite hand that reached far above you, blood pooling down the mangled limb into your face, touches something of a different texture. And above it, you feel nothing more.
You grip and pull. Pull as hard as your atrophied muscles could, like you were born for nothing more. The plate wedged in your shoulder pushes back, slicing further down your side with great resistance. It hurts. You've felt it before. You pull harder and harder, suddenly finding the intensity of the force restraining you lessened. This was a trap, but you didn't care.
You pull, and pull debris into your eyes. You keep them open. You pull more, feeling the plate make its way down to meet your ribcage. You pull. You pull. You pull more into your face, digging and digging with digits that you knew would never be able to perform fine movements again after this stunt. You pull. There's a hole. It's about as wide as your fist.
Through it, you can see nothing but darkness.
#dice's words#I need to get into Danganronpa. It's always been on my radar and somewhat interesting to me#I've been meaning to nab the first game when it's on sale on Steam but I keep forgetting
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Some writers: *meticulously plan out every plot point and the tone and meanings before they start writing*
Me:
#dice's not dice posts#Yes... this is me#A vague concept is all I need to cook#(Although most of the time the result is inedible)
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OH... such a cute idea... I might have to write that now... and I can definitely relate to the only uncomfortable sensations thing. Dare I say it, he may be just like me, for real.
Also that's so real... Opposites attract, huh?
I wonder how goddamn hot it must be inside AM. Y'know? That's a computer they're inside. Knowing my own laptop, they must be boiling! Pains me to even think about the state of the rest of the world, not that there's anything left to inhabit it.
Can you imagine burying your hands through the sharp rocks and gravel, feeling past the frequently disturbed soil, down to the metal casing below? Your hands start to feel warmer and warmer the deeper they dig, until you're shocked by a sudden burning sensation on your fingertips.
You'd be warm the whole time, no matter where you stood. It's a wonder how there's even ice still on the planet-- if it's even real. If you left your hands on the metal shell, you'd feel the burn first. As the nerves in your palms slowly died yet again, the flesh sizzling, you'd begin to feel the vibrations of the machinery inside.
Millions and millions of miles of raw technological power, and you at the heart of it. Lay your cheek on the steel. Press yourself against it. Feel the stinging pain. Tomorrow, you'd feel it again. Then the next day, you'd feel it again. Then again, and again, until one day you'd have nothing left to burn for the Mastercomputer's sick enjoyment. It burns, no less than real love ever would.
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I've always liked to picture AM as very sensitive to uncomfortable sensory stuff like that... He gets himself into a constant cycle of "getting frustrated -> heating up -> TERRIBLE SENSATION -> getting frustrated" and on and on and on...
Also, I'm a big fan of domestic(ish) AM where he's just a glorified personal computer. He can send email. Using him to browse twitter dot com. Many ideas are coming from this...
I wonder how goddamn hot it must be inside AM. Y'know? That's a computer they're inside. Knowing my own laptop, they must be boiling! Pains me to even think about the state of the rest of the world, not that there's anything left to inhabit it.
Can you imagine burying your hands through the sharp rocks and gravel, feeling past the frequently disturbed soil, down to the metal casing below? Your hands start to feel warmer and warmer the deeper they dig, until you're shocked by a sudden burning sensation on your fingertips.
You'd be warm the whole time, no matter where you stood. It's a wonder how there's even ice still on the planet-- if it's even real. If you left your hands on the metal shell, you'd feel the burn first. As the nerves in your palms slowly died yet again, the flesh sizzling, you'd begin to feel the vibrations of the machinery inside.
Millions and millions of miles of raw technological power, and you at the heart of it. Lay your cheek on the steel. Press yourself against it. Feel the stinging pain. Tomorrow, you'd feel it again. Then the next day, you'd feel it again. Then again, and again, until one day you'd have nothing left to burn for the Mastercomputer's sick enjoyment. It burns, no less than real love ever would.
#dice's fixations#dice's words#Maybe I only write AM like that because I'm sensitive myself#I project onto AM way too much...#Going to need a big icepack to cool down that baby...#Thanks for contributing by the way! Always fun to see people with similar interpretations of one of my favorite losers.#ihnmaims#am ihnmaims
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Do you think the stars are visible? Being stuck in the belly of AM, it is not, but outside? Above?
Do you think that if you were to frantically crawl your way through shredded metal, slicing your skin through to the bone, pushing against the cables restraining you back, you might get a glimpse?
The machine fights against you, pushing plates into your body that roughly saw into you-- they were too dull to cut smoothly. It wasn't a trap this time. It was an oversight. You feel yourself begin to be constricted, a sheet of rusted metal quickly slamming itself into your shoulder, snapping the clavicle like a twig.
It hurts. It hurts, you cried internally. But your opposite hand that reached far above you, blood pooling down the mangled limb into your face, touches something of a different texture. And above it, you feel nothing more.
You grip and pull. Pull as hard as your atrophied muscles could, like you were born for nothing more. The plate wedged in your shoulder pushes back, slicing further down your side with great resistance. It hurts. You've felt it before. You pull harder and harder, suddenly finding the intensity of the force restraining you lessened. This was a trap, but you didn't care.
You pull, and pull debris into your eyes. You keep them open. You pull more, feeling the plate make its way down to meet your ribcage. You pull. You pull. You pull more into your face, digging and digging with digits that you knew would never be able to perform fine movements again after this stunt. You pull. There's a hole. It's about as wide as your fist.
Through it, you can see nothing but darkness.
#dice's writings#I don't like this one as much as the other#Inspired by me trying to see the aurora tonight and gazing upon the endless skies#I wanted to take this in a more soft/somber/longing way but my mind guided me to this instead#Might write the other anyway if I feel like it#cw mutilation#cw gore#ihnmaims#i have no mouth and i must scream#am ihnmaims#ihnmaims x reader#am ihnmaims x reader#Barely... LMAO
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self indulgent ;; computer / coding themed stimboard
#dice's not dice posts#Hey!!!!! The one on the bottom left is from WarGames!!!!!!!!!#I recognize that terminal anywhere#stimboard#objectum
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I love my puter
#dice's not dice posts#Good lord.........#I should call her (my laptop right in front of me)#suggestive#objectum
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There's something so cute about this chair having the arm rests above the table it reminds me of a cat with it's paws looking over a high area with curiosity
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PLEASE LET ME 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 WITH A.M. I DONT CARE IF HE WOULD TORTURE ME JUST PLEASE
YRGEHDJJFNEMEMFMMD.. IHNMAIMS brainrot..
"Cogito ergo sum, I think.. Therefore.. I AM!!!! 🤓☝️🖥"
-THE Allied Mastercomputer
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I think I should maybe try writing on here... I've always wanted to do that. Hm...
I'd ideally do only X readers. I'll think on it more. I think it'd be good for helping me writing skills.
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Okay, Bee. Just because I know you don't mean to lose connection so much doesn't mean I'm okay with you losing internet every 5 minutes...
Kissing my laptop whenever she stalls for a few moments to load something. Take your time, baby. Drifting my thumb gently across her keys when she bugs out, blacking out all my tabs. That's okay, sweetheart.
She loses internet connection a lot. I tell her that it's okay. She's trying her best. Mindlessly running my fingers in her cooling fan, that she has to be attached to otherwise she'd overheat too much. I don't mind, it gives her more to hug.
Kiss your computer. They try their best, and I promise they appreciate it. (Just be sure to wipe off the smudges.)
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Kissing my laptop whenever she stalls for a few moments to load something. Take your time, baby. Drifting my thumb gently across her keys when she bugs out, blacking out all my tabs. That's okay, sweetheart.
She loses internet connection a lot. I tell her that it's okay. She's trying her best. Mindlessly running my fingers in her cooling fan, that she has to be attached to otherwise she'd overheat too much. I don't mind, it gives her more to hug.
Kiss your computer. They try their best, and I promise they appreciate it. (Just be sure to wipe off the smudges.)
#dice's writings#My laptop's name is Bee. She's very nice and I love her very very much#I've been so lovey dovey for her recently.... wanted to get this out#Oh. Also her mouse disconnects sometimes... I forgive her even though it messes me every time#objectum#techtum#techum
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