The dancer is a patient and must be made to comply. They cannot be trusted with their own sensory perceptions. They suffer from hallucinations of pain and delusions of exhaustion. There is no such thing as malpractice when it comes to the dancer. You cannot be punished enough. Your skin is an interface for needles and pressure cuffs. Your skin exists only to alert him to your mistakes. You must dance in a state of exposure, so he can inspect you for bruises, stains of clumsiness. Do not think your body is something to be admired. You are a disgusting male. But you are not a man. You are stunted. Your anorexic ribs are a kind of descended gynecomastia. Your bulge is sexless, juvenile, and clownlike. Your body is the mannequin and the dress at the same time. Beauty can never exist for you as a noun, but it might as a verb.
🩰 MORE 🩰Category: story
cunt toward enemy [s3e9] escapement
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The father keeps a tube of lipstick on his nightstand. Lazur sees it on the rare occasions he is called upstairs, to carry the man’s briefcase or do his tie when the man is falling over drunk. Lazur always assumed it was a memento of the absent mother, until he saw how every trace of her was removed from the house, except for the subliminal rubbish in the basement.
Rich men are freaky. But he’s driven the man to secret and depraved gatherings, and never brought him back with makeup on. The lipstick feels wrong to look at. A sense of something black, congealed, and burnt—yet oozing with endless, leechlike intelligence. The walls must be flaking with toxic pigment. Cadmium red. Lazur holds his breath, and knots the tie.
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💣 MORE 💣July Megabugpost
small story for people who love libraries or want to see a library in xrafstar world
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this is about Cancer going blind. and his sister.
do not read unless you desire the “family gothic”…
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✦ new page on site about corruption…and how internet/phones/etc work (or don’t) in xrafstar world.
✦ vich made this pic about our game…Cancer and his operant conditioning handler…it’s so…so cute…
Closed Tear
You are in the library.
No. Sink deeper. Before you were sprayed with the nasty corrosive gunk of ego and culture. Before you were covered in linguistic contaminants. Before you were sterilized and cauterized, and the wounds of your mind were still open and fresh.
You are on a distant island of this fantastic but mundane empire. The sun is fading through the windows, smeared into burning droplets. You came for shelter from the rain, and the mosquitoes. They lay their eggs in standing water, so all week they have been breeding and you don’t want to get bit or have to drink bitter quinine to stave off super-malaria.
📖 READ MORE 📖Immune Privilege
Cancer goes blind.
🕳️ read more 🕳️cunt toward enemy [s3e8] half hunter
Prokop’s hands had become transparent through lack of use, but on the other hand they had acquired an extraordinary sense of touch. They felt and detected the potential power of detonation of whatever they encountered. A young body had an enormous explosive tension…
—Karel Čapek, Krakatit
💣 MORE 💣cunt toward enemy [s3e7] the good life
Coffee Shop AU * act 1
I work at the strip mall coffee shop. Scratchy black shirt that itches on my clammy back. Slacks my ass looks too big in. Baseball hat that crushes my sweaty black hair into my ears.
I lean forward to hide my tits. I’ve become a goblin thing, using my shoulders and the bagginess of my shirt to pretend there’s nothing there. Hides my name tag too. HI I’M CANCER. My black cap pulled over my head, just an acne-scarred mouth, they think I’m a high school boy. I mumble so they can’t hear my cleft palate wheeze.
🩸 MORE 🩸cunt toward enemy [s3e6] save yourself
On the contrary: the effect of the bomb is greater than any conceivable end, for this end will necessarily be destroyed by its effect. Every end will be destroyed together with the entire world in which ‘ends and means’ had existed.
— Gunther Anders
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💣 MORE 💣En Pointe
Your teacher is always staring at you. There’s a test, but you can’t focus. Spare pencils are lined up on his desk, pastel pink. He keeps them sharp, and pointed at you.
Snap. Your pencil broke. You need another. You walk up and take one. A whiff of jasmine. A tight gold band clasping the red bud of an eraser. Drag it across your mistakes.
✏️ MORE ✏️cunt toward enemy [s3e5] get well soon
Inanna, daughter of the Moon, put on her regal garment, hung a ravishing sash around her neck,
With fearsome, terrifying radiance she bedizened her brow,
She drew a carnelian necklace with rosettes around her divine throat,
She made a hero’s gesture with the seven-lobed mace in her right hand.
She set her foot on the deep blue step.
— The Exaltation of Inanna
February: Cancer Angel Constellations
my story ANGELBRIDE is out now, as part of SLAKE HOUSE, a 250+ pg illustrated PDF w/ CYOA paths n hot pics by many talented illustrators ⛪️🦋
✦ religious ero-horror w/ art by @CoeyKuhn
✦ institutionalization, boys, torture, mutilation, ovipositors?
✦ multiple endings + many choices along the way
Encore
Cancer opens his lunchbox. There is a nice meal inside, separated by plastic compartments, packed by his foster mother like specialized tools or military ordinance. White bread crushing mayo and green tomato, pressed down by maternal fingers until white goo drips from the edges, and a side of chopped-up hot dogs with banana ketchup. It is one of those special holidays that won’t matter when the sun is obscured by flies and there is a reason for those flies. But for now, consumer electronics.
His scout uniform is a dark flower on the green picnic area, which has a wonderful view of the pink ocean. A path of desire has been worn up the hill.
He takes the durian from his backpack. He eats this fruit to train himself to be around the man, who sweats shamefully with an inner poison.
🪰 more 🪰Cancer’s Prize
They went up the big wheel and Cancer tried very hard not to throw up but the wheel went up so high and he didn’t know it stopped at the top so he thought it was broken, and then it lurched and groaned with the weight of itself shaking swinging wasn’t it should it be like that and he and he and it got all over his nice clean lacy white shirt, ruined…
A boy goes to a seaside fun park. He meets his teacher, his scouting instructor, who, gawky and fastidious, seems more suited to this kind of park than the other one.
🎡 more 🎡