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No.155   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]
HELLO THERE. It's your friendly neighborhood Writer, just here to leave a pile of rules to help wring out whatever good we may have here in this board and establish a level of standards around here.

  • Division of shit from lit: If you're going to write something, write something. Unless you're posting a short outline for a story and asking for critiques/advice from fellow writers, a flimsy, barebones post with barely any content claiming to be a 'story' is subject to getting tossed. This rule is very subjective, though and may apply different in different places. Rule of thumb is to not half-ass your work or post shit.
  • Content: What is/isn't allowed? The works posted do not have to be related directly to Yume Nikki, although a majority tends to me. I believe as far as writing/literature goes, anything can find its way here, within reason. That means you can talk about books too, if you'd like.
  • Labeling of NSFW material: Not everyone likes this type of writing and not everyone wants to read it. If its of the pornographic variety, label it as [NSFW] in the subject so people can promptly hide/read the thread quicker.
  • Level of maturity: Sure, some writers may not have the technical finesse or prowess of people who have been writing for a while. Still, as long as the fledgling writer is trying their best, don't insult others and instead offer advice. Otherwise, posts will be deleted. Repeated offenses will incur increasing penalties.

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Last edited by moderator 10/10/06(Wed)01:54.

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>> No.415   [Delete]   [Edit]

Hey guys I came back, expect me to go buttmad and delete a bunch of stuff soon :3

Or not, who knows.

Last edited 11/05/25(Wed)18:48.

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578006 No.191   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

Hello /lit/, would it be against the rules to talk about books / literature in general?

I'm looking for some really strange, surreal books to read and maybe you YN fans out there might know of some.
Pic unrelated

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>> No.416   [Delete]   [Edit]
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Yep, it's Murakami. edit edit ignore this rant just everything murakami ever aaah pic related

Last edited 11/07/05(Tue)22:51.

>> No.442   [Delete]   [Edit]

...Is the pic that one scene in Kafka on the Shore where the old guy who can talk to cats makes fish rain? That book was awesome.

Also, >>412
Coin Locker Babies was by Murakami Ryu, not Murakami Haruki. That book was amazing, and disturbing though.

>> No.443   [Delete]   [Edit]


>> No.445   [Delete]   [Edit]

William Burroughs - Naked Lunch
Very disjointed, not really a discernible plot. Excessive scenes of violence and drug use.
Written by a man who shot his wife.

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379066 No.422   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

I’m sure by now you’ve all heard that .flow is a very gory game, to say the least. .flow is filled with rust, decay, self-mutilation, and many consider it better than Yume Nikki in many ways. One of my closest friends had heard me talk about it plenty of times with my other friends and she said that she was looking for something scary to play. She and I chatted about the game for about an hour, and I told her the basics of what to do in the game. Not spoilers, mind you, just things that would make the game a lot easier for her. Using a children’s crayon from the table we were sitting at, I outlined where to get the Witch and Steel Pipe effects. I had to go home for chores, but I told her to search it up on the internet when she got home.

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>> No.438   [Delete]   [Edit]


I didn't expect that this would be as well liked as it is! Thank you for the kind words.

>> No.439   [Delete]   [Edit]

Why did the cameraman put bleach in her hair?

>> No.440   [Delete]   [Edit]


Make the body less recognisable? Sexual fetishism?

I really only put that in because I wanted it to be more like .flow because I'm a terrible writer! ;__;

Last edited 11/08/05(Fri)15:44.

>> No.441   [Delete]   [Edit]

I could tell. There were a few bits like that where it felt like they were only included to make it relevant to .flow.

You're not a terrible writer. You've managed to sway a pedestrian audience to you, and that's quite an accomplishment.

In the future I'd recommend writing stand-alone fiction. This piece seems pretty solid when you ignore those bits I mentioned before. The problem with fanfiction like this is that it's either written by someone who can't think up their own setting and characters, or someone who is good enough at writing that their work would be better off being 100% their own thing, just because their creativity differs from the source material and arbitrary connections must be revised in later. Your problem is the latter.

Keep writing, you show promise.

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29389 No.413   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

Pic unrelated

>> No.414   [Delete]   [Edit]

Context: Was posted in a thread named 'How to tell if someone likes you?'

When you come home after a long day at school, and every object your room looks like it has been deftly picked up, looked at all over with baited breath as if in holy reverence, and then carefully placed back in the exact same position in the exact angle. The room's temperature is slightly warmer than that of other rooms, maybe because of the previous visitor's excited body heat. And as you go to rest and plunge your face into your soft pillow, you ask yourself, whats that smell? It smells familiar.

Oh yeah. You remember what it is now.

Its the faint musk of someone's genitals.

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918012 No.242   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

What am I doing here?
I haven't got a fucking clue in Hell!
So, here comes some face-fist action!
I'll attach a picture of some wonderful things while I'm at it.




--Thanks to Writer for reminding me of the above fact.
So ya I did these on my iPod. I try to proofread these after I've finished.
Some mistakes might escape me.

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Last edited 10/10/16(Sat)20:25.

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>> No.386   [Delete]   [Edit]
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The Nightmare 19: Wrath

I kind of wish - no, nothing. It's nothing.
It's nothing.

De. Ca. Dence.
  I am draped in loathing and hatred. Once more, I've dipped into the stagnant pool of ichor within my heart. I exude a venomous gaze as the dagger forged from Hades' excrement drenched in poison propagates a repulsively deathly aura. Rags of envy cling to my sickly frame. Fleeting dreams flit about me as annoying flies; the flies exist only to remind me of how deep I've sunken. I live in a well. I live in my own filth. I'm a skeleton. I'm a ghoul. And I look up, beyond rusted iron grates. My sight provides me a scathing image, one that grates my heart and opens rotting wounds.
  Other people. Above me. Other people. Below me. Other people. Around me. I swear and curse, scream and howl. My throat explodes with acrid sounds, hissing death, baneful growls.
  If only my hatred could be incarnated. If only my hatred could be made manifest. If only my hatred alone could burn you all to ashes, with which I may feed the tumultuous sea within my heart. I wish I could kill you all. That I was strong enough to grasp the handles of my imaginary knives and plunge my stakes of steel into your thieving bodies, vampires of my happiness. I wish I was strong enough.

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>> No.408   [Delete]   [Edit]

The Nightmare 26.0: Nothing

nothing. There is nothing. All to naught, not to be. All before us, dissolve to nothing; all before us, annihilate.

Thus spoke Zathurhasta, zenith of our society, a gleaming pinnacle of hope in a sea of depravity, the last relic of the world we once knew. He came, unlike the others, through the sky. We cried "sorcery," but he calmly responded, "dreams." We accused him of witchcraft, but he was found guilty of vision, hope, future.

Zathurhasta then preached of a vision of hope for the future. At first, we scoffed and walked on, ignorant of the floating man above us. Inevitably we tolerated; inevitably we heard; inevitably we listened. Zathurhasta then spoke of a vision of hope for the future. And we listened.

He spoke of glorious exploration, a world without trespassers; of carving out our own fortunes, a world without theft; he spoke of romantic love, a world without rape; of peace between all, a world without war; he spoke of fortunes for all, a world without greed; of honour and good will, a world without murder; he spoke of utopia, a world without the filth around us.

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>> No.410   [Delete]   [Edit]

The Nightmare 26.1: Nothing

nothing. There is nothing. All to naught, not to be. All before me, dissolve to nothing; all before me, annihilate.

Why won't the letters just melt away and disappear? They just keep dancing across the page anyway. This stupid book in front of me, filled with opened fetal pigs... Ugh, I can already smell them. The formaldehyde's stench is unbearable. Honestly, I'd rather work on math problems. Actually, yes, that's what I'm going to do. At least math doesn't stink.

...Shoot. I can't concentrate. I feel as if the numbers are dancing around on the pages too, but this time, mockingly; "Stupid Sally! Sinking Sally! Stupid, sinking Sally!" Anyway, I can't stand this. Maybe I'll draw something to calm my nerves. Yes, that would probably be best.

Hah, I knew this would be of a little help. Skeletons and ghouls, ghosts and zombies... Reapers of death... Blood and gore... Hm... Pentagrams of fire... Er, this is a bit morbid. Well, still, I'm only drawing them, it's not like I really believe in these fictitious things. Um, yeah, it's all right.

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Last edited 11/05/11(Wed)13:13.

>> No.411   [Delete]   [Edit]

The Nightmare 26.2: Nothing

nothing. There is nothing. All to naught, not to be. All before me, dissolve to nothing; all before me, annihilate.

"That is right. I have your son in my custody. I will kill him within the hour. You best try to stop me in that time. Good bye." I click the cell phone shut and throw it out the open window; gravity will take care of the rest.

Before me is a young boy, perhaps aged 13 to 16, sniffling, shivering, scared, fearful; fearful of me, or my switchblade? Of course it is me, for a tool has no will of its own. Before me is my annihilation, my single curse that I shall lay on the world, my immortality. Through him, I can become more than man. I will become annihilation, a destroyer of hopes, a merciless killer, a-

"Let me g-"

"SHUT UP!!" I scream.

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286059 No.391   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

there's never really much here when i open my eyes.

i go outside,i look over the balcony,i see the cars and the street and the people.

but at the same time....i don't see any of it and i get this weird feeling in my stomach when i think about why the cars and street and things go away.

best not to think about it, probably need to go inside.

i'll play a game


this game is boring but i know if i get a high score i can leave my name aaa as my initials and maybe think about a how to better myself playing this game that is not very good but like i said if i can beat then i wont have to stay awake for very much longer because its not like i can leave right because if i leave then they'll see me and i wont know what to do they might even stare and then i'll have to get weird but if i plan out this tired feeling in my eyes then i might be able to think about what im doing about this high score that i cant seem to get [eyes twitch]..................................[shaky voice] i think i need to take a nap.

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Last edited by moderator 11/04/21(Thu)18:00.

>> No.404   [Delete]   [Edit]
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jesus shit, that ellipse stretched my screen so much I got a headache. not cool, bro.

>> No.406   [Delete]   [Edit]
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you know me, trying to break shit my 1st day on the job.

Last edited 11/04/22(Fri)23:41.

>> No.407   [Delete]   [Edit]

This needs more exposition and description and less chat-style emotes and dots. Write the character into a piece or roleplay her, but don't do both.

And by that I mean you need to describe her creepiness/nervousness and expand on the paragraph (with punctuation) so it's more readable. This is fine for a first draft, but why not refine it a little? I think you could get inside her head more and write what she thinks of her surroundings and situation.

>> No.409   [Delete]   [Edit]

it made me think HEY IT'S FRED

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94775 No.365   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

Ohai. I'm sort of a newbie fanfic writer, striving to get fans.
I decided to write a story about Madotsuki, and the theories I think are correct. Some of these are based off the YN Artificial Children PV, mostly Poniko's theory.
Anyways, enjoy part 1!

Madotsuki stared at the ground below her. The wind blew her twin braids.
"Should I?" she pondered. "Is it worth it?"
"Will life be better?"
Memories filled her mind. Her sister, her friends, gone. They still haunted her. Her mind. Her dreams.
Her sister, dear Poniko. Murdered, her face torn up by a robbery including a knife. She pictured her, lip torn, hair in her face, her eye slit. Her head was seperated

from her body. Her dark brown hair seemed golden because of the light coming from the window.

She remembered picking up the bloody knife.
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>> No.405   [Delete]   [Edit]

Why do those letters brighten up when i scroll from left to right??

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54405 No.321   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]


Chris switched off the PS3-eye in disgust. This time he really meant it. True and HONEST. For three years now, Chris had used the internet as a surrogate for human interaction. Dejected by the manajerks, jerkops, and that witch Mary Lee Walsh, Chris had fled to the electronic refuge of the interwebs to continue his love quest.

Sadly for the manchild, cyberspace had proved just as cruel as real life, with an endless gang of trolls watching his every move. They posed as sweethearts, stole his ORIGINAL characters, and even made him destroy his treasured PSTriple.

"I could strangle that CLYDE CASH", mumbled Chris as he logged out of Youtube for perhaps the last time. In three years of searching for a heartsweet online, he had only 50 pounds, a shattered ego and a baldspot to show for it.

It was hard to know where to start now. Chris had no friends, no social network except his parents and his counsellor, Rocky. Despite talking it up in some of his videos, Ruckersville was a dump full of rednecks, and besides he was already banned from any places of interest in nearby Charlottesville.

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Last edited 10/12/10(Fri)11:32.

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>> No.375   [Delete]   [Edit]

At the beginning I was like: "Oh, okay, this might be funny."
Then I was like, "huh, it's quite funny"
Suddenly, robuts and portals: "Eh, getting daft but still want to read."
Pokemon characters and massacre errywhere: "ha ha, oh wow"
Chris smooth talkin': "This is making me cringe a little"
rape: "Christ, what?"
Eye fuck: "Bloody hell why"
raining Pokemon and having no-one notice: "lol"

>> No.383   [Delete]   [Edit]

I stopped reading when I got to Chris trying to kiss Dawn.

Too horrible!

>> No.385   [Delete]   [Edit]


>> No.387   [Delete]   [Edit]


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111997 No.372   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

There once was a girl named Madotsuki
Who encountered a man quite ghostly
He showed up one day
when the lights went away
And there was no escape from him...mostly.

There once was a girl in a cave
Who looked though belong'd in a grave
then into her sight
came a girl with a light
and made her go into a rave

>> No.373   [Delete]   [Edit]

unz unz unz unz

>> No.374   [Delete]   [Edit]

Hell yes.

>> No.381   [Delete]   [Edit]

There once was a girl named Mado
But really, she was just Mado's shadow
She spent all her days
Trapped in the red maze
Waiting for someone to say "Hello"

>> No.382   [Delete]   [Edit]

Or if you want:

There once was a girl named Mado
But really, she was just Mado's shadow
She spent all her days
Trapped in the red maze
Waiting for someone to say "Haldo"

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572403 No.48   [Delete]   [Edit]  [Reply]

Just a thread to post some of the things I have been writing lately. It's a lot, that's why my own thread, hohoho aren't i presumptuous

Well, let's start it, shall we
My take on Masada - apparently in my imagination he was an angsty artist:

Masada, Masada.
Masada is always smiling. Always smiling, even if his eyes are crying. Sad. Melancholy smile, but he is happy, happy.

Masada, about him, his heart is pure. Just like snow, but he cries easily, inside. And about him, about us, he told me he wanted to fly. He wanted to be part of the sky.

He lived in a small but wonderful house. It was white, pure white, and snowy kittens lived with him. Their soft and furry paws, poking playfully at his legs, meowing, frolicking in the sunlight that flowed through the long, narrow windows. I still remember him, sitting at his piano, long ivory fingers flowing and splashing across the keys. And the music, the music was as pure too - even if it did seem sad, just like him, just like him.

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>> No.376   [Delete]   [Edit]

snowflake fireworks

I watch him, as he brushes aside a strand of hair
Staring at the tiny screen resting inside his smooth palm
So transfixed, removed - so intensely focused on another reality
His sanctuary

I wish to understand him more.

He smiles at me, reaches out
And coldness spreads out, like ripples
On the surface of old, oily bathwater
The sensation of childishness,
Does he know what he does?

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>> No.378   [Delete]   [Edit]


What are you trying to tell me

>> No.379   [Delete]   [Edit]

I believe he is trying to tell you to report him since he is spamming every board with that shit...

>> No.380   [Delete]   [Edit]


O ok

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