#incest w

[t440]

the only change i wojld make to the oshi no ko ending would be to have kamiki and aqua fuck 👍 (not serious) (or am i)

[rafey-baby]

rafe has always been close with his sister...(part two)

c/w: incest, some dubcon touching & a kiss from rafe, both of them are more or less drunk, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.3k

previous part & moodboard

if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s well past 3 am when they stumble through the front door— wobbly on their feet and drunkenly giggling about some stupid joke Rafe had muttered while fumbling with the keys. Yet another party her big brother had dragged her into, and if it weren’t for his hands on her hips guiding her upstairs right now, she’d wake up the entire house tumbling down the stairs when she’d inevitably loose her footing.  

“Rafe, m’never going out with you again. Told you I wanted to leave like two hours ago,” she complains the moment they make it to her bedroom; her feet aching and head spinning.   

“‘N she’s complainin’ again. I mean, my apologies for wantin’ to—to show m’little sister a good time,” he huffs, peeling off the shirt that’s beginning to stick to his skin. “Don’t even try t’act like you didn’t have fun.”  

“Well, yeaah, but now m’sooo tired and gross and I need to shower and…” she yawns around the rest of the words; hand on his bicep for balance while she kicks off her shoes. 

“Don’t— don’t need to worry ‘bout that, told you I’d help you out, yeah?” he slurs, already beginning to tug down the zipper of her dress.  

“Nooo…can’t shower yet. Need to take m’makeup off first,” she blabbers, brows pulling together as if he’s just committed some heinous crime, making him roll his eyes before he’s searching through her vanity for makeup remover.  

And despite her drowsy resistance about wanting to shower alone, Rafe manages to drag her into the bathroom (after wiping her face clean) anyway — the thermal water soaking through her fatigued limbs feeling entirely too good for her to push him away when he corners her behind the shower curtain, its printed seashells beginning to twirl against the cream-colored material when she stares at them for too long. 

And she’s almost starting to believe he’s truly doing all of this for altruistic purposes; thoroughly washing her hair for her and making sure to coat the strands with a generous amount of conditioner afterwards.

But when his soapy palms mindlessly glide along the wet skin on her tummy��� inching closer and closer towards her tits, she realizes that she was wrong. However, she’s far too out of it to care, and upon noticing the fact, he’s letting his eager paws grope at the squishy flesh; covering them in the foamy shower gel in the process.  

Only when his thumb is smoothing over a sensitive nipple, does she blink away the haziness blurring the lines of what a brother should and shouldn’t do to his sister. And at first, her dozy complaint doesn’t even reach his ears because he’s entirely too focused on the way her tits fit perfectly in the palms of his hands, wondering how it would feel to—  

“Rafe…can you not do that?” she suddenly takes a tentative step back.  

“Hm? Jus’ makin’ sure you feel all nice ‘n clean,” he drawls out, seemingly confused before he’s tugging her closer with a hold on her waist. “Can you wash my hair next?” he pleads; an abrupt attempt to distract her intoxicated brain. 

“I can barely stand and you want me to wash your hair? Can’t even reach your head when you’re a fucking giant.”  

But when he leans down for her, she reluctantly begins to lather the shampoo into his roots— gaining a delighted grunt from the back of his throat when her fingers absentmindedly dig into his scalp. However, with the new position, he’s now eye-level with her tits; soap bubbles and water droplets trickling down the smooth skin, and with his thoughts muddled, he’s unable to resist the allure for very long before he’s gravitating towards them.  

“Rafe, stoop,” she stumbles backwards when she feels the flat of his tongue laving over the valley of her breasts.

“M’sorry.” But he doesn’t seem all that sorry, not when he looks up at her under his lashes, offering her an inebriated grin— something nauseating coiling in her belly in response.  

- - - - - - - - - -

When they finally make it out of the shower, he insists on patting her dry, the foggy mirror saving her the absolute mortification of having to watch her brother’s eyes skim across the expanse of her bare skin during the unnecessarily long process.  

“Let me take care of m’favorite sister, yeah?” he croons when he’s tugging down the hem of her sleep shirt afterwards — a shirt that just so happens to be stolen from him, the worn fabric apparently softer than anything of her own.  

She’s unsure as to why he’s suddenly being so nice, but she’s not exactly complaining when his uncharacteristically gentle fingertips daub her face with her night cream when they sit down on her bed— making sure to rub the moisturizer into her forehead as well. And she thinks he almost looks cute like this; brows furrowed in concentration, flicking her nose with a sleepy smile when he’s finished.   

“That smells so fuckin’ good,” he groans after applying a layer of chapstick to her lips; his heady gaze fixed on the action of her rubbing them together, something she’s too dozy to notice.

“I know, right? I looove anything vanilla-scented,” she gushes over the product while placing the rest of the skincare on her nightstand.  

“Can I— uh, try it?” his question sounds innocent enough, but she should know better.  

“Of course,” the naive girl fully expects him to uncap the lip balm once more but instead, he’s suddenly grabbing her jaw into his massive hands and pressing his mouth against hers— swallowing her surprised squeak before she’s quickly pulling away.   

“Rafe, you promised you weren’t gonna do that anymore,” she whines, but the way her button-eyes blink up at him — the betrayal so tangible — lures him in to do it again; smearing their mouths together with a satisfied hum before she’s shoving at his shoulder.  

“Ray, m’serious, it was one time,” she lets out an annoyed huff.  

“Calm down, m’lips were jus’ dry, alright?”  

“You could’ve just— nevermind, m’too tired for this right now,” her attempts at putting some much needed space between them prove to be futile when he just follows her under the covers— acting as if he doesn’t hear her muttering how he should sleep in his own bed for a change.  

“Listen, m’sorry, okay? Don’t like when you’re mad at me,” he ignores her protests and nestles his face into her neck, nose soon nudging her throat and eliciting a somnolent giggle from her. 

“Ray, stop. You’re being annoying,” she tries to swat his hands away when his fingers suddenly begin to poke and prod at her sides because he knows how ticklish she is.  

“Yeah? Tell me you forgive me then.” 

Involuntary laughter bubbles from her chest when she shakes her head and squirms in his arms— desperately trying to wriggle away, but he’s much stronger and she’s no match. And when she grows even louder, he’s forced to slap his palm over her mouth to muffle the noise.

“Shut up, Sarah’s gonna wake up ‘n tell dad we were out late again,” he hisses, suddenly remembering how his other sister is sleeping on the other side of the wall, nonetheless continuing his attack when she attempts to escape once more.

“Stop tickling me then,” she manages out between fits of laughter, uncomfortably writhing in his hold because she hates when he does this. However, she quickly realizes he’s not planning on stopping anytime soon, and the feeling is quickly turning into something unbearable, more or less forcing her to finally let out a sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I forgive you— whatever, jus’ let me sleep.” 

His breathy chuckle fans the expanse of her neck before he finally relents, but when she tries to shift away from him, he merely tucks her closer against his naked chest; large palm slipping under the hem of her shirt to splay over the expanse of her stomach to keep her right where she is.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs into her hair, tone suddenly desperate, needy. It makes her swallow around the knotted coil in her throat before she reluctantly gives up altogether— entirely too exhausted to put up a fight when sleep is already dragging her into its dreamy embrace and she feels so warm like this.

[blingblandart]

who up getting sappy about the stan twins

[toutallyahoe]

━ yours ,, the s-class that i raised

requested by: – pairing(s): han yoohyun x twin! male reader word count: 1009 warnings: canon spoilers (?), cursing, twincest, incest, bro con, casual plans of murder are casual, hand job, shower sex (implied) a/n: if you read the manhwa, you know that yoohyun has a massive brother con shit with yoojin and yoojin also shows some moments of it too but not as bad as yoohyun who is yandere af

but yeah, sue me for being a disgusting degenerate ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

Han Yoohyun knew something wasn't right as he looked in the direction of his and your room was, where his older twin, you, had disappeared after you had arrived not too long ago. Yoohyun couldn't help but get a bit concerned about you as you had completely shut yourself off. Your usually cheerful attitude had been all but gone. His twin brother had hardly even opened a mouth since you arrived and before slipping into the shared bedroom.

Yoohyun knew something must have happened when you had gone out earlier. You came back from an interview that must have taken a toll on you as you barely even talked to Yoohyun before you had dragged yourself to the bedroom while murmuring about going to take a bath to relax.

The interviews you go to weren't any less intense as you took up the public's interest so Yoohyun can do his own thing. You were the "marketable" twin so to say. The stress must have accumulated, and he wasn't surprised that you were taking a bath to relax. He would be lying if he wasn't curious about what you had gone through during the interview though as he was sure it was stressful.

So, getting up from the couch, Yoohyun went towards the shared bedroom and opened the door to see if he can able to find out what had gotten his older twin in this mood. Yoohyun could hear the sound of the running water over the sound of his own breathing, his worry grew as it dawned on him that he may need to go check on you more.

Opening the door to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, Yoohyun looked at you. You were obviously naked as the water from the shower fell down to your body and Yoohyun could see you clearly through the clear glass that separated the wet area from the rest of the bathroom. Yoohyun didn't have time to be impressed like he always was on seeing your form like this as he was more concerned about the fact that you looked blankly at the tiled bathroom wall, standing there without any emotion on your face. It was unlike you...

Yoohyun let out a sigh as he began stripping until he was bare and slipped into the showers with his twin. "Move," Yoohyun softly said as he placed himself behind you and immediately leaned in, feeling you stiffen from both your bodies close. You then relaxed when you realised it was just Yoohyun. The both of you stayed like that for a while as Yoohyun placed his head on your shoulder as the warm waters coming from the shower pelted the both of you.

"What's wrong?" Yoohyun softly asked after a while as he closed his eyes. Humming when he heard you let out a grunt and answered.

"Parasites getting annoying again," you huffed as you remembered how annoying the press was from the interview you had gone to. "Those fuckers had the audacity to mention hyung and bad mouth him... again..."

That made Yoohyun snap his eyes open as he glared at the tiled wall. When it comes to Han Yoojin, your dearest older brother, the two of you would always feel more emotion than anything else. Even after keeping themselves away from Yoojin for years, both twins will forever be wrapped around Yoojin's fingers. And you two didn't like it when anyone ever disrespects or hurts your older brother. "Should we just kill them?" You let out another grunt at Yoohyun's words. You were tempted to agree with your baby twin, but you had to stop this as you knew it would be a mess if you let Yoohyun do whatever he wanted.

"Tempting... but no. It'll be annoying to deal with if word gets out about the two leaders of the Haeyeon Guild murdered civilians. You know we're not allowed to endanger those insects in any form."

Yoohyun let out a displeased hum as he pressed his body closer to you. "I hate it when you're right," Yoohyun murmured as he placed a kiss on your neck to distract himself from his anger on not being able to do anything. Wrapping his arms to hug his older twin, Yoohyun casually placed one of his hands on your toned stomach as he then slowly guided it down until he grabbed your soft cock. "Is that why you're pissed earlier?"

"Yeah..." A soft groan left your lips at the feeling of Yoohyun's hand on your cock, your baby twin slowly jerking you until your cock becomes hard. Yoohyun softly hummed as he placed another kiss on your neck as he continued to lazily jerk your cock. His other hand cupped one of your pecks and squeezed it. Letting a pleased hum at hearing your pleasured noises. "Trying to distract me?"

"No... claiming what's mine," Yoohyun said as he bit on your skin harshly, planning on leaving a mark that hopefully he could admire for a while before you drink a potion to erase it. "I hate it when you people think you're dating someone."

You chuckled softly as you knew what Yoohyun meant. Seems like your dearest baby brother found out about the rumours of you apparently "dating" another hunter. It was all a lie really as the press and media always love to blow things out of proportion and love to make drama on things... but you knew Yoohyun was always the territorial kind... not like you weren't as well.

You grabbed Yoohyun's hand and made your twin stop touching you so you could turn around and face Yoohyun. A smile was on your lips as you cupped Yoohyun's cheeks as you looked at Yoohyun in the eye.

"You know it's all lies," you said as you placed your lips against Yoohyun's, softly kissing your twin as you pressed your body closer to his. Making Yoohyun be pushed back towards the wall as you softly grind your hard cock on Yoohyun's thick, muscled thighs. "I only belong to you and hyung."

[dollyprodigy]

Taking a deep breath into stepdad's neck to inhale his scent before dropping on my knees in front of him. He's tired, so tired. I can see it by the way his eyes are practically closed when he groans out my name <3

"Be good f'me child" - It's all he manages to say when I kiss his bulge over his pants <3

And his eyes drop when he feels the warmth of my mouth. Heavy lashes staring down at me as I struggle to fit his cock into my mouth. His hand barely rests on my head and he adjusts in his seat, not hiding his moans, even if they're loud <3

"That's a good girl...good child...God, you're an Angel, love." - He murmurs, almost too hazy, petting my hair lazily while I try to not choke on his dick <3

Stepdad that cums inside my mouth with my name on his lips, saying it on repeat until he empties himself on my tongue <3

He smiles the tiniest bit when I clean him up. Hand on the back of my head when I kiss his cheek and help him put his trousers back on <3

"F'God's sake, you manage to keep me sane" - He says before bringing me in for a kiss, eyes docile behind all that tiredness <3

My mother really doesn't know how to show love to her husband. And he's so sweet, too. Good thing that I love him. So so so much. Much more than her <3

[murdknux]

big congrats to rdr fandom for having some of the worse moral posturing around shipping i’ve ever seen. like congrats for shipping the canon hetero pairings and your 1 or 2 allocated gay fanon pairings. also congrats for inventing the word “psuedoincest” to scare the crows off any pairings you deem unacceptable.

like i’m sorry, but the van der linde gang are not a family and if you believe that, dutch has manipulated you too. dutch uses the family framework to keep those he manipulates loyal. hosea and dutch are not the “mum and dad”, that’s fanon characterisation. arthur and john are not the sons or brothers, they were both boys groomed by dutch into a lonely and selfish life, robbing and stealing. and though they are close and brotherLIKE, they are not brothers.

another newsflash- you can have messy romantic feelings with a friend that is so close you consider them a sibling. it’s not wholesome, it’s a bit weird and intense. but that’s kind of the point. that’s why people ship it. we’re not getting off on incestuous dynamics because the incest is not in the room w us rn. idk how to make it any clearer.

it just upsets me to see a lot of good rdr artists getting smeared on twitter by fans who think they’re a better person for not touching the morally dubious pairings. personally, it makes sense for me that this group of outlaws in the 1890s, who’ve lived so close to each other, would have intimate relationships. they’re not a cute family living out in the country, they’re a group of criminals who’ve done a lot worse than fuck a guy that they’ve grown up with. it’s so odd to imprint 2024 shipping morality politics onto a bunch of cowboys from 200 years ago. i guarantee your not winning any awards for playing it safe in fandom.

[nyc-pizza-rat]

saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

~

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

[yeyinde]

being reduced to "ew, i'd just kill him :/" is so shame-y to me. it's a thinly veiled this is weird and you're wrong for liking it, imo. but the "i'd just kill myself" comment serves almost zero purpose except to shame. like, clearly i wouldn't but i'm glad you find my interests so abhorrent you would. totally unnecessary.

Good, you deserve to be told the truth.

It IS weird.

You ARE wrong for liking it.

You are interests ARE abhorrent and you absolutely SHOULD be ashamed.

I absolutely would kill either him or myself in that kind of situation. Everything about it is nasty and disgusting, and so are you if you like it.

And if you enjoy "non con" in fiction so much then you should get raped in real life.

lmao wouldn't it be easier to accept that dark romance isn't for you, block the tags, block the writers, and live in a happy bubble instead of being a repugnant cunt to people you've never met before? Or wishing rape on a total stranger because they like something you don't?

Ugh. Grow up.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

you and your estranged older brother touya who you only meet once a month to fuck through a gloryhole

[mcsiggy]

shipping incest in the big 2024 is INSANE

and i get paid for it too!!

[saetiate]

sorry to write yet another vanilla sex fic where the character is completely and utterly in love and devoted to you. will happen again

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

Between two rocks and two hard places

[lesbianralzarek]

idk what discourse dimension some of you "fandom elders" are stuck in, but in my ~15 years in online (and sometimes irl) fandom spaces, this is the golden age for me

shipping wars have literally always existed and acting like we all used to hold hands and sing kumbaya is insane. "well, there wasnt this moral component thats soooo annoying these days" okay but thats worse. you do see how thats worse, right? people used to tell each other to kill themselves over zutara vs kataang and then not even care when people were racist. twice as mad for reasons half as reasonable. also, where were you all in 2015-2019? that was the era of "steven universe is fascism apologism" and "i headcanon these characters as found family, so its incest to ship them". now shipping "drama" is like "oh i broke mutuals with them after they wrote smut of this child character being assaulted by their parent", which is actually just a normal response

wondering what torment nexus some of you are trapped in where fandom has gotten more toxic? hope you can escape soon, because im having a ball out here in a world where biphobia is seen as a bigger problem than a ship being dumb

[ghostzart]

S7e14

[phasmotid]

eric choosing to dress as king henry VIII on the children's charity day is of course extremely funny ("it's for the kids," holding a decapitated head) but also the obvious implications of this are killing me.

DVD's quote from season 2: "He gets validated by the idea of creating people in his image. Until they become him, but younger. And he can't fucking live with it." and this episode's "I used to see what my daughters could become and achieve in every successful young woman I came across. / Now you wanna come across every successful young woman?" All of his relationships he's killed for these simple crimes. Daria, DVD, Kenny, Harper, and now Rob and Yasmin underway... something sooo sinister going on here. His siblingchildwives. But it makes sense, if this is all you're taught. Eric has been at Pierpoint his whole life. Which is rare, seeing how many of our core intern cast we've lost along the seasons. Killing opposition must be the only way he learned to survive. It makes me wonder how his relationship with his mentor, Newman, was. It makes me wonder how it ended, as well.

Also with Yasmin dressing herself as Diana -- all these costumes are related to these characters' perceptions of themselves or who they'd rather be. It's so interesting to push that Eric is aware of this pattern? He's a character with historically a strange amount of emotional awareness in this job and in comparison with Harper, though he has a shield up against this, which is beginning to falter post-divorce, and the evilness he's learned from Pierpoint is becoming all there is to him