#cw derealization

[tobytost]

wait, you don’t remember what he looks like?

[sad-leon]

That feeling when the passage of time clings to you and drags you down with it

Inspired by @remedyturtles's Death Wish fic that I've been rereading <3

KoFi || Patreon

[aesthetic-otd]

Today's aesthetic is lostcore

[razberrypuck]

CW // derealization / word repetition / eye strain

wait, you— you don't remember what you look like? just make something up.

transparent ranboo(s) below the cut

[junjunjunko]

Degrees of Lewdity HORROR AU.

Another remake of an old piece, this time the Horror AU one.

Heavily inspired in The Mandela Catalogue, for obvious reasons.

A clearer version down below!

[possuminnit]

I think if we picked live, he would have died anyways - this tweet sort of backs up that claim. also, every choice we have ever made in all 3 of the streams never mattered, they never changed anything. it was just for show

ss of the tweet, also

[liminal-spaced-out]

Skipping

[hiro-doodlez]

Sometimes, it feels like forgetting would be so much easier.

Please lemme know if theres any more cw/tws i should add!!!

[the-bitter-ocean]

Wanted to write a short writing thing based on @daily-odile doodle they did for @tealgoat in tales of time au! Set Post game so implied references to the full game are under the cut:

< Mirabelle is explaining to you the intricacies of the lore for a new horror book she found earlier today. >

< It had been a while since the two of you were able to have a chat.>

<Mirabelle held off on doing any book club meetings because she wanted to let you rest and recover. >

< Spending all of your energy to subconsciously channel a long forgotten ancient type of craft to go back in time repeatedly did your body zero favors. >

< It’s nice to have a different change of pace. >

< Being able to listen to her talk about something new- plot twists you can’t predict, dialogue you haven’t heard.. >

< It’s comforting.>

< It reassures you that you’re still here. That you and everyone around you is still real. >

{“ So far I have a couple of theories of who the ghost haunting the protagonist might be! It could be a long lost lover.. or maybe a secret twin or-“}

< You can feel your vision blur. >

< Why are you so tired? >

< No, you are not tired. You’re focused and present and listening. >

< It’s all different now so you have no reason to be tired! You don’t have the right to zone out. Focus. >

< Mirabelle’s voice melds into static in your ears. You hear soft excited chatters and then silence. >

<You feel yourself fall face forward straight into the wooden table where the two of you are sitting. >

< You don’t feel like getting up.>

< You close your eyes. >

< You feel like you’re falling. >

< You feel a tug on your- >

<…! >

< no no no no no- >

< You don’t want to go back! You know better now! You can’t you won’t not after everything that happ- >

{“…!! I’m right here! I didn’t mean to startle you! You just looked..scared? So I wanted to wake you up? If that’s okay? Uh-”}

< Oh. A normal tug. On your shoulder. From one of your allies.>

<…>

<Keep it together. >

< You slowly sit up and adjust your glasses. They aren’t damaged, so that’s a win in your books. It’s a hassle to replace them. >

< You take a deep breath in and out. >

< You look over at Mirabelle and smile. >

<“ I’m fine. You can carry on your explanation. What happened next in the story?”>

[mar64ds]

[ilexdiapason]

(part one here) (part three here)

(CW: character experiences a severe derealization episode)

“D’you want me to order pizza?” Oli asks, somewhat redundantly, because Martyn is twenty-two (according to the police report) and a gamer, of course he’s not gonna turn down free pizza.

“Oh, god, yeah,” says Martyn. And, a second later - “Please.”

He fires up the Domino’s website obediently, pulls up the deals and picks one that’ll leave him some leftovers for when Martyn’s long gone tomorrow. Meateor for himself, as usual, and then he spins the laptop round on his knees to present Martyn with the options. “What are you having?”

Martyn stares at the screen, unblinking, for a few too many seconds.

“... Something wrong?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, no, just. Um. Been a while.”

“D’you just want a margherita, then? Keep it easy?”

“No, I don’t - I was -” he grimaces, shakes his head roughly, and thumbs at the fabric of his shirt where the tea stain sits “- trying to remember what I liked.”

“Vegetarian?”

“No,” Martyn responds immediately.

“Olives? Mushrooms?”

“I’m not picky -”

“Pineapple on pizza?”

Martyn snorts. “Okay, yeah, I don’t much like pineapple on anything, I’ll give you that.”

“But as a concept.”

“No problem with it.”

“Then, Marty, my friend, you’ve lost the plot.”

He sits another moment, deliberating. Then - “Sweetcorn.”

“Yeah?”

“I like sweetcorn on pizza.”

“Alright,” says Oli, and spins the laptop round again to check the options. “Vegi Supreme or Chicken Feast?”

“I’ll take the chicken,” Martyn says, resolute.

Oli sends the order through, with potato wedges on the side, because it’s his money and he’s gonna pick the extra items for the deal. Then, once the little order tracker with the fake AI has popped up and started telling him stupid jokes to amuse him for the next 25 minutes or so, he turns back to look at Martyn. “Can I ask something?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ask what?”

“And you don’t need to tell me if it’s, like, personal or whatever, just… what were you eating? If you haven’t seen pizza in however long?”

Martyn makes a face. “Whatever, honestly. It wasn’t a big worry for me - I mean, not like I could - yeah, it was just whatever. Not dead yet, so I’m clearly not malnourished.”

Oli cocks his head. “Whatever like whatever you were given, or whatever like you were scavenging?”

“Like - uh - like - I mean, I wouldn’t say scavenging, that’s - like whatever I could find? I know I’m not explaining this very clearly, it’s -”

“No, no, I said you didn’t need to tell me! Don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” (It’s not like Oli doesn’t want to know, but he doesn’t need to know if it’s going to make Martyn uncomfortable to explain it.)

“Anyway. It wasn’t bad, it was just… y’know how Covid makes it so you can’t taste anything? Little bit like that.”

“Original Covid did. I don’t know about all the new variants.”

“Ah, yeah, heard about those! Did they ever run out of Greek letters?”

“Don’t think so, thank goodness.”

“Yeah,” Martyn nods.

Beside Oli, the little Domino’s robot lets him know that their pizzas are now going in the oven.

It feels odd, to be sitting here on the sofa, taking an extended lunch break with somebody who he’s only known from Minecraft servers and scratchy in-game prox chat. It feels odd to know that he’s doing hospitality for a man six or seven years younger than him, a friend who’s never answered out-of-character about himself before today. It feels odd to know that he’s actually looking at the real Martyn - not some rat, not some pirate, just… some guy.

Oli swallows and steels himself for what he’s about to say. “Erm - again. Don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But… besides this whole Doc thing, what was your life like? Your normal life?”

Martyn’s expression flips into something unreadable for a second, then mellows again into neutrality. “Yeah, uh - nothing special, really. Born and raised in Nottingham, did alright at school, got the grades for uni but I ended up deferring. I was trying to get a job in my gap year but I didn’t really wanna end up behind the counter at GAME or McDonald’s or anything, and nowhere else ever got back to my applications, so… spent a lot of time at home, playing video games. No girlfriend, no mates who really stuck after college; not much worth writing home about. I wasn’t much of anything, really, not then.”

Oli is, he decides, going to ignore the implications of that comment. “Family?”

“Mum, dad, sister who’s been moved out for a few years. Dog. Oh, I hope he’s still alive, that’d suck if I never see my dog again.”

“Fingers crossed,” says Oli.

“What about you? What’s the home life of OrionSound like, when he’s not at the computer?”

“Oh, Marty, my entire life is at the computer,” he quips. “I work in software development. I actually did my degree in psychology, but you’d be surprised, there’s not a lot of room in the market unless you’ve done a load of other certifications as well. I guess I could have got a therapy licence, but as it turned out, I’d spent enough time in first year making terrible visual novels that by the time I got into the workforce I technically knew how to code. AI snapping at our heels now, of course, but it’s probably gonna eat itself by Christmas, so I’m not too worried about that.”

“I dunno,” says Martyn, “I’ve seen some pretty advanced AI.”

“So, yeah. I spent a few years freelancing, contracting for one place or another - I’m quick, which people seem to like, although that’s mostly so I can get back to gaming as soon as possible. And then… like two and a bit years ago? Yeah, would’ve been two years this past July… then I got a really nice position at CHESTCorp, it’s mostly remote work, I drive down to London every few months so they can “review my performance in a controlled environment”, whatever that means, and they pay well enough that I can afford this place on my own, which is -”

Oli stops talking when he notices Martyn’s face has gone white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I knew it,” Martyn murmurs.

“What?”

“I knew it,” he says again, stronger, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, I knew you - I thought - he told me this would happen, I’ve seen it happen, I should’ve just learned from my mistakes the fucking first time, but clearly I’m stupid.”

“Marty, what are you -”

“Didn’t wanna believe this shit could follow me out here, but evidently it - oh. Oh, no, no, you fucking - it’s not over, is it? I’m still - that’s why nobody picked up the phone, it wasn’t real, you couldn’t synthesise my mother’s voice, I’d know! You’re CHEST, of course you’re CHEST, the one person I thought - I mean, I hoped - you’re fucking cruel, is what this is, it’s cruel, and you’re not fooling me twice. Don’t know how you got the food this realistic, but -”

“Martyn,” Oli tries to interrupt, “are you okay?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Martyn says through gritted teeth. “You’ve given the game away now, CHEST agent. Should’ve known it wasn’t real. Should’ve known I couldn’t get out that easy. Or you caught up before I got out, one of you fuckers, planted something, or - I don’t know, made me think I was finally out of this stupid place. Made me think it was fine so I’d start giving up secrets. Well, you’re not getting another word out of me, you fucking idiot. Some interrogation room you’ve got here, huh? This your best simulation? Get a better model for your TV, I’ll tell you that for free, the reflection’s too smooth.”

Well. Er. “Martyn,” he tries again, “I think you might be having a flashback?”

“Nothing back about it, you bastard. Giving me false hope like that. Thank god I don’t actually know Doc’s name, or you’d have been able to track him too, wouldn’t you? Fuck you. Don’t ever bring my family into this again, any of you.”

“Okay,” Oli says slowly, rifling through his psychology knowledge for grounding techniques, “you think this isn’t real, right now?”

“I know it isn’t real,” Martyn spits, “and it’s getting worse the more I’m poking at it. See, look -” he stomps a foot at the floor “- you’re losing resolution trying to keep it running.”

The carpet, which has not changed and is certainly not lower resolution than it was when they got here, endures being scuffed at. Oli doesn’t want to actually lay a hand on Martyn right now, though; he’s got a bad feeling that’ll end in something much worse than being kicked. Instead he dips into the kitchen across the room, pops an ice cube out of the tray faster than he’s ever needed to, and brings it back over to the sofa. “Here,” he says, chucking it at Martyn’s lap, “that real enough for you?”

Martyn catches the projectile reflexively. He stills, silent, both hands cupped around the ice cube, staying in the air.

Then, gradually, his eyes unfocused… his arms lower.

He opens them and stares down at the piece of ice in his palm, and, slowly and almost imperceptibly, begins to rock forward.

The Domino’s tracker chimes again. Their food has finished cooking, and it’s being delivered by Amal. Oli almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Whatever Martyn’s running from, it must go a lot deeper than he thought.

(part five here)

[idfk-im-bad-at-names]

My thoughts on Bad's recent character development

First off, I'm sorry it took a few hours for me to get to this. I really needed to wrap my head around this (and I wanted to watch the irl stream to cool off from what happened-)

I believe that what Bad was seeing was his delusions. I don't think those were actually Cucurucho and Osito Bimbo. His paranoia has been developing for months now and it's finally come to a head with recent events.

His delusions were manifesting into what he wanted to believe, deep down. He'd rather Ron, the Federation worker, be the culprit for the Federation spying on him, than one of his trusted friends to be the one behind it. And in the end... well, Ron had to be sacrificed in order to stop the intrusive spying.

I'm so excited to see what everyone will think of Bad after this. Can I also say that the admins did such an amazing job? Like the nameplate changes, jumpscares, teleporting Bad back to further the delusions and paranoia? *chef's kiss*

[zizsmthg]

Ｉ　ＷＩＬＬ　ＢＥＬＩＥV̸̖̣̱̜̯͈̪̂̂͒́͊̓̍̽͜͝͝ ₁₀₀₀₁₀₁

(CW: Derealization)

[razberrypuck]

CW // derealization (caption) / flash warning (minor) / scopophobia

change someone's perception of reality, and they will act the way you want

[junjunjunko]

L0V3 M3 L0V3 M3 L0V3 M3 L0V3 M3 L0V3 M3 L0V3 M3 L0V3

PL3AS3 L0V3 M3.

Honestly I spent a good while on this Kylar piece. I'm actually really happy of the result so I hope you guys enjoy it!

[gins-stim-emporium]

barry erry ill (sparklecare hospital) stimboard (with science stims) for @doatunny !! <3

nail polish / squishy ball / plasma ball

hallway / 🧪🦠 / flipping switches

brain scan / biohazard slime / potion