⌖

𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽　𝙰　𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙼　𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻　𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽.

[125player]

`　⌖　░　𝖄OU FIT INTO ME LIKE A HOOK INTO AN EYE; a fish hook, an open eye. * park min-su of squid game. RARELY FOLLOWS FIRST. a vivisection of complicit masculinity, moral paralysis, bystander apathy, and prey animal rage.

 ⁰¹⁾ guidelines, ⁰²⁾ statistics, ⁰³⁾ prompts, ⁰⁴⁾ sideblog.

𝕭𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐛𝐲　...　120player, 124player, 230player, 256player, aquareqia + all blogs, electr1c, hearteris, plyr124.

[125player]

Hi : ] Reminder I've moved him to @blaceyes

[125player]

On @blaceyes <3

[125player]

Wild minsu sighting hello ? Semi just raised her eyebrow.

Looks at her like the pathetic hamster he is.

[125player]

Hello... all of my intrusive thoughts are his problem so I might write some bullshit

[125player]

I'll do things on here and it will be. Awesome

[125player]

I'm gonna eat your cheeks and not in the cute aggression way

WHAT THE HELL WAS THE CONTEXT FOR THIS

[125player]

[125player]

Thinking about how before hide-and-seek Min-su keeps averting his gaze from Nam-gyu taunting him until he brings up Se-mi. Then he finally looks to him and presents the most audible response Nam-gyu receives in the form of a huff through his nose. Se-mi Se-mi Se-mi. God damn

[125player]

[125player]

Hello... I am the Min-su thinker today

[miffski]

(guy experiencing ocd) maybe its not ocd. maybe im evil

[injuryz-deactivated20260301]

⤷ @125player gets a starter from enji .ᐟ.ᐟ

you wonder if he was cut from the same fabric as you, pathetic and observant. kicked for the amusement of others, smarter than the idiots that use you as an outlet for their emotions and feelings. you look at bruise 'pon the other's cheek, pointing at it with trembling hands. they shake, shake and shake; something nested deep within bones that cannot be named, engrained in the very marrow of your body. " does it h-hurt..? ah.. sorry. "

[125player]

WHAT KIND OF A STUPID FUCKING QUESTION IS THAT?　Seriously.　Bruises are tender no matter the origin,　no matter the location;　they fester in their ugly.　Purples and yellows no suitable cure for wounds.　The shaking hands are a nuisance.　He almost wants to shift away.　Patron saint of inaction cannot move,　though.　Can never move.　He will look to other with pathetic eyes and downturned brows,　perpetually seeming as though he is on the verge of tears.　It is only right.　❛❛　It’s starting to heal…　um,　are you asking because you want to give me one that hurts worse?　❜❜　The game he’s learned to play,　some level of complicit in the harassment:　following uncertain footsteps down the allotted path.　Strike where it’s easy.　He is always easy.　

[injuryz-deactivated20260301]

⤷ @125player gets a starter from gyeongsu .ᐟ.ᐟ

" you can.. sit down. " quiet words breaks the silence held within the room, something holy and unholy at the same time. simple desire to be in his presence, to stay within the pull of his gravitational field. " on my bed, if you want. no pressure, like.. " your hand pats the mattress that you're sitting atop of, looking at him with a shy smile that teeters on the brink of shattering from fragility. " or.. uhhh, am i making you uncomfortable? "

[125player]

IT’S NOT THAT.　It’s really not that.　It’s just his stupid face.　Fuck his stupid fucking face,　always betraying his good intentions with a look of fragility and weakness.　Lips pucker;　man struck with countenance permanently insinuating he has tasted something sour.　A lemon,　a rind.　Judas in his goddamn yellow.　Min-su swallows,　shakes his head once or twice,　enough to strike pounding sensation to activate.　But he sits.　First,　a little further from Gyeong-su than he’d prefer.　Then closer.　Closer.　Closer and closer until the space between them was insufficient to stick his hand between,　and he ducks his head down.　❛❛　Gyeong-su?　…Why don’t you ever get nervous?　❜❜

[zachrp]

ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM INSTIGATIVE PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.

you really don't hear yourself when you talk, do you?

i don't know who you think you are, but it's not impressive.

you love playing the victim when it's convenient.

don't look at me like that. you made this choice.

you always say that, and it's never true.

i'm tired of pretending you don't know exactly what you're doing.

funny how it's always someone else's fault.

you don't get credit for almost doing the right thing.

i trusted you, and that was my mistake.

you don't listen, you just wait for your turn to talk.

say it again, slower this time, maybe you'll hear how stupid it sounds.

you don't get to rewrite what happened just because it hurts.

you're not misunderstood, you're just wrong.

i don't owe you patience.

you love control more than you love honesty.

stop acting so surprised, this was always coming.

you really think that excuses what you did?

you don't get to be angry about consequences.

i expected better from you, and that's on me.

you're exhausting, and it's not charming anymore.

every apology you give sounds rehearsed.

you only care when it affects you.

you don't actually want the truth, you want validation.

don't pretend this is about concern.

you cross lines and call it curiosity.

you never ask how i feel, you just assume.

you're cruel when you're cornered.

i see right through the act.

you confuse confidence with arrogance.

you just don't know when to stop.

you keep pushing until something breaks.

you don't get to play innocent here.

you really thought i wouldn't notice?

you always need an audience.

i don't recognize you when you're like this.

you're not brave, you're reckless.

you say you're honest, but you're just mean.

you enjoy this more than you admit.

don't flatter yourself, i stopped believing you a long time ago.

you don't fight fair, you fight to win.

you're not protecting yourself, you're attacking me.

you keep confusing silence for forgiveness.

why do you make everything a competition?

you don't get to decide what hurts me.

you act like being hurt gives you permission.

you only hear what supports your narrative.

you don't respect boundaries, you tolerate them.

you always push until i snap.

is this the part where i'm supposed to feel sorry for you?

you keep calling it honesty like that makes it noble.

you enjoy being cruel when you think you're justified.

you've been waiting to say that, haven't you?

i know you always choose pride over people.

you don't know how to back down.

you don't listen when the answer isn't what you want.

you treat everyone like they're disposable.

after what you did, you don't get to talk about loyalty.

you always take more than you give.

you never stop to think who gets hurt.

you only care when you're exposed.

you don't know how to sit with discomfort.

you poke until something bleeds.

you love being right more than being kind.

you don't know when enough is enough.

you keep digging and wonder why you're alone.

you don't see people, you see leverage.

no, you don't get to speak for me.

you twist everything until it suits you.

you don't actually care about the truth.

you always need the last word.

you don't know how to be gentle.

you don't care who you hurt if it proves a point.

stop calling it honesty like it absolves you of anything.

you don't know how to lose gracefully.

you don't fight fair, you fight dirty.

you make everything personal.

you don't know how to let things go.

the truth is, you just enjoy tearing people down.

you don't care how this affects anyone else.

how convenient, you only show empathy when it benefits you.

you don't see how far you've crossed the line.

you always think you're justified.

you don't know how to stop hurting people.

don't act like you actually want answers.

you always think you're the smartest one in the room.

you care about winning.

you don't fight for resolution. you fight to hurt and you know it.

[125player]

Oh my god why is my for you on min-su gooned up

[injuryz-deactivated20260301]

you let go of him, hands falling at your sides. in a world so blood-tainted and driven by violence, you walk through it like moses - the crowd parts for you just as the red sea did for him. but there is no staff, no helping hand of god.. there is only you and your off-putting nature, the chills you sent down people's spines and the crimes that label you someone to be avoided at all costs. who else will accept someone like him, though? if not you, who else? your hands can be bloody and gruesome but they can be more.. brutal by nature and gentle by force.

you watch him like a curious child would watch a bug as it mills about amidst the grass and dirt. his eyes that tell far more than he realizes, the minor shifts in his expressions are revealing.. you memorize it for later use. you savor it, all of it. and when he asks his little questions, you indulge. someone like you rarely does so.. but min-su has potential to be useful to you.

" to me, it matters. " which is another way of saying 'you matter to me'. " i don't just think, i know you are. you're small. and you're pathetic. i like that. don't you? " of course he doesn't. you know this and yet you ask, yearning to see what he does or says. min-su can be surprising at times, you feel some kind of emotion struggling to form when he takes you off guard. you want to see it again. and again. and again. 'til it bores you and you have to see him from the inside, with chest splayed and ribs busted, with organs escaping inner cavity and blood coating everything. " always be honest with me. please. "

[125player]

EVERYBODY’S A CRITIC.　What is he but an implement?　Stepping stone through which others may realize their highest self,　at the simple cost of trampling pathetic thing underfoot.　Accepting all that is done to him,　no matter what it takes.　He wants to be forgiven.　For what,　exactly,　he could not answer.　Some transgression or another.　Crimes he cannot remember,　cannot recount.　An internal interrogation struggling to rouse a glimmer of hope or faith or apparent indicator of life in his eyes.　To know a certain self　—　being Min-su and all the implication　—　draws bile forth.　Boy in the bubble.　Is this his mark to leave on the world?　A blemish,　a stain.　Bad,　bad,　bad.　Please forgive him,　Banda.　Be mollified by the sparkling of tears on his lashline that threaten mercilessly to overflow.　Windows to the soul tell far too much,　divulge too much ugliness.　Forgive him,　please.　He needs it.　Needs to have his worthless existence justified by an outside party.　One that will poke or prod or touch him in any way necessary to validate it.　He has seen it.　He has become it.

❛❛　It’s acknowledgment.　❜❜　And isn’t that glorious?　Stating an objectivity outright,　keeping him tied down to earth for a short while longer.　An alien without it,　above all else,　approximating some measure of human behavior.　Min-su is strange.　He knows this better than anyone,　feels the loathing stir from within from all of his leering and staring.　Why does he do that?　Looking upon the world with such animosity.　As if it is his right.　Cataloging how best to shrink himself away from everything outer and beyond him.　Questioning existence.　Should he?　Shouldn’t he?　He has been granted permission　—　begged,　daresay.　Banda,　in his entirety,　is granted a once-over,　and bottom lip tucks itself into refuge of his mouth to chew and pick at flaking skin.　❛❛　It’s a little bit annoying.　You,　I mean,　sorry.　Thinking you’re so right.　Or knowing you’re so right.　❜❜　Whatever non-existent distinction there may be.　Was that a bad thing to say?　Will he provoke a reaction?　Something to feel alive,　he hopes,　for shrewd thing running on empty.　A desire,　if he could be allowed it.