厌恶

And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out var sc_project=11138948; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="d7b15032"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("");

[oedvpus]

hey i’m not sure who may still be around, but if you’re interested in reconnecting or even just screaming about old krp, muses, threads, whatever, you can contact mun on discord @ exolutely#2561. just lemme know who you are/were.

[oedvpus]

YELLS. DESTROYS EVERYTHING. YELLS AGAIN

//why this omg i love it 

[oedvpus]

this certain nemo/dory and their mun misses u ): i hope you've been doing well!

fuck fuck fuck this is familiar but i can’t remember. leave me a message off anon or shoot me something on line @ d.irt cos i’m super curious and want to return the well wishes more meaningfully 

[oedvpus]

`

[oedvpus]

please excuse the dip in activity & presence here. mun’s got exams, papers, family things, and a lack of motivation for all of it. activity should resume after all that shit is handled. 

LINE is the only means of contacting woo or mun outside of tumblr, @ d.irt. feel free to add!

[oedvpus]

              shin woogil. 061295. snuff film enthusiast.

SNUFF FILM:

     an often pornographic genre of film that depicts the actual murder of a person                                      circulated amongst a jaded few for the purpose of entertainment

[oedvpus]

please excuse the dip in activity & presence here. mun’s got exams, papers, family things, and a lack of motivation for all of it. activity should resume after all that shit is handled. 

LINE is the only means of contacting woo or mun outside of tumblr, @ d.irt. feel free to add!

[encvgh]

{{ Please reblog this if you’re a mun who’s open for angst plotting. Death, pain, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, illness, misery, fighting, screaming, tears, hate, disgust, trauma, graphic gore, etc; I’m in need of threads. Thank you. }}

[oedvpus]

please excuse the dip in activity & presence here. mun’s got exams, papers, family things, and a lack of motivation for all of it. activity should resume after all that shit is handled. 

LINE is the only means of contacting woo or mun outside of tumblr, @ d.irt. feel free to add!

[monstaxwh]

[ungvdliness-archive]

SEND ‘🔺’ + A COLOR FOR A COLOR BOARD OF OUR MUSES

@oedvpus:🔺+dark purple

[oedvpus]

"You really should wash your hair more often if you want to get yourself a job." // thanks for reblogging my ad, hope this is ok!

“did i say i wanted to get a job?” having been practically spat out, woogil’s words hang heavy in the already tense air between himself and the girl behind the counter. the bakery was familiar enough to him, an easy pit stop on his way to and from his activities on the days he actually pries himself out of the cool darkness of his studio before sundown. 

the employee of the probably family-owned place, considering she was the only one woogil ever saw, was normally tolerable. when he’s lacking on sleep and caffeine, however, that wasn’t so much the case.

he opts to ignore her ( truthful ) jab about his hair and continues on: “look, my wallet is empty cos i had a long week, okay? can you just.. put it on a tab or sorts? it’s just one pastry. besides, have i ever skimped out on paying your ass before?” 

[oedvpus]

🙌

send a 🙌 and i’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my muse.↪ NOT accepting!  

his nanny. again, this is actually an open plot that’s simply an NPC at the moment because nobody has been able to fill it. essentially, she is an older-ish woman ( very late 20′s - mid 30′s preferably ) who is in charge of cleaning woogil’s studio apartment, doing his shopping ( though some of this is already done by @hyejvng ) and otherwise cleaning up after his messy ass and keeping him alive and supplied with the most basic of necessities. 

[oedvpus]

reddiamxnds

chisa examined her new phone as she stood outside the building. it wasn’t the rosegold color he’d assumed she wanted, but a plain white, which was hidden beneath the case she’d received for her birthday from her son; he’d drawn a picture of the two of them, stick figures - one red, one blue - and her mother had it printed on a phone case as a gift. 

“ you didn’t have to follow me outside, ” she rolled her eyes when she caught sight of woogil, her less-than-desirable aide for the duration of her time inside the building. chisa was still internally irate over the ‘basic bitch’ comment he’d thrown her way, but she’d maintained enough of her patience to make it through the process. 

“ thanks for all your help. ” her voice held a hint of sarcasm, which hit pointedly at the word ‘all’ and chisa had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes where he could see. “ hopefully i won’t have to come back, ” she finished as she began walking away without so much as a backward glance to him.

if woogil’s ego had nothing to say about it, he would readily admit that he’s surprised chisa allows him to follow her as far as the first floor of the building once their little errand was said and done with. but, of course, his ego had everything to say about anything, so there’s nothing short of a horribly smug curl to his lips by the time he’s clearly being dismissed.

“y’shouldn’t have to, at least not for another phone issue.” whilst innocent enough on the outside, there’s a sliminess to woogil’s words, a distinct, disgusting lilt to his voice promising of ulterior meanings and desires. though in an instant, that near-playful pretense vanishes as his features harden, jaw going taut and forearm muscles flexing visibly with the grip he establishes on the hem of chisa’s blouse to tug her back to him.

“but i think the trouble you put me through, and the trouble i saved you from deserves much more than this rude excuse of a thanks you’re trying to get away with, huh? am i wrong?” 

without so much as giving the woman a moment to process his words, let alone respond to them, woogil swings a cocky arm around her delicate shoulders, his palm accidentally ( or not ) brushing against the modest swell of her breasts as he practically hangs over her, that easy grin returning to his face with more venom than before. “so where are we going?” 

[oedvpus]

[oedvpus]

cum. 

it’s the simplest drug. 

at times, the most inexpensive - free, one might argue. at others, lavishly expensive to the point of the absurd, and even then, not wholly satisfying. for what could one’s hand do that a tongue or cunt or cock couldn’t, and better to boot. but a quick, sloppy rubbing session without so much as a dollop of spit is better than nothing until one gets more creative with their time.

 for woogil, it begins much the same as for any other pubescent boy, curiosity getting the better of him when flashes of provocative images on the television have his fingers wringing at the hem of his shirt, his blood pressure steadily climbing. provocative. that is to say, the flashing scenes of panic following the slice of a disposable horror film character’s throat, her scream dampened by the gurgle of blood cascading from her larynx with unrealistic force behind it. it proves to be exciting nonetheless, albeit fleeting, and sooner rather than later, woogil is actively chasing the high of a taken life. fictional at first. and then not. 

it continues much in the same fashion, exposed tits and salaciously creamy thighs and pantylines replaced easily with delectable self harm photos pinned by sixteen year old girls on every social networking site imaginable when daddy doesn’t let them pierce their navels, when mommy offers a firm no to the idea of them becoming a model. there’s a teasing tingle to the edge of skin where the blade met so shallowly, just enough to call attention without causing any lasting harm when daddy finally caved. they’re weak. pitiful, good for perhaps one or two orgasms before he grows bored once more. the chronically depressed, a teenaged woogil is quick and pleased to find, provide much nicer photographs, and much harder erections. 

woogil has just hit the tender age of fourteen when he sees his first exposed muscle, his favourite pain-stricken blogger having grown out of her own layers of skin ages ago, hindered only by a pathetic uncertainty of going deeper, an uncertainty that lasts as long as it takes her abuser to sink their claws into her once more, and then she’s diving head-first into her flesh. the sinewy ligaments capture his attention the fastest, but it’s the gloss of bodily fluids and blood mingling over the rippled expanse of her flexors that quite literally beats the breath from his burning lungs. when she hits the first major blood vessel and graces woogil’s screen with her gauze-packed forearm, he’s overwhelmed, a fresh surge of arousal shaking him to the very core until thick ropes of cum are spurting out on his keyboard. he spends the next three days cleaning it all out, only to replace it with yet more as the healing process is documented next. 

a slippery slope at its finest, it’s difficult to track exactly how quickly woogil moves from stepping stone to stepping stone following his first exposure, cock and mind alike numbing out from the softest of touches from the whipping, the bondage, the bloodplay. hookplay maintains its hold on him for all of one week before he’s in tears scrolling through underground resources and password-protected blogs on the eighth day, ever on the hunt for his next fix. 

and then he finds it, or, perhaps more accurately, it finds him: snuff. 

it proves to be the unadulterated climax the boy was not aware he needed. all at once, a stranger’s last breath captured for all of eternity becomes too much, and not enough, overstimulating the pleasure receptors in his mind and deafening him to even the found of his own fist, slick with the previous round’s semen, on his dick. it blinds him, yet tantalizes him. it teases him, yet offers him the sweetest releases, the highest peaks, the longest lasting buzz after he’s spilled too many loads and deprived his lungs of oxygen for far too long. 

it’s the most potent drug. 

and he wants more, more, more. 

he wants it all.

[oedvpus]

🙌

send a 🙌 and i’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my muse.↪ accepting!  

snuff npcs. because i wrote only two solid NPCs in woogil’s bio, this is rather open-ended, but i’d like to believe that he has a steady, unchanging chain of distributors, customers, and fans that keep his hobby alive and thriving. he doesn’t need that success necessarily for financial gain, more so for moral support and stability from a community of fellow sickos. this is also an open plot for him, should anybody wish to fill it!