#throwaway rules

[throwaway-yandere]

𝗦𝗖𝗣-███: “𝗗𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗨𝗦”

[Artistic depictions of Researcher "Ansy"'s deceased husband]

“𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑎 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛, 𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑎𝑙— 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒.”

— Junior Researcher Astrilde "Ansy" ███████-█████

𝗔𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: See the addendum below for more details.

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀: Euclid.

𝗔𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀: SCP-███ are conscious and sentient beings produced by Dr. Ansy using water and other confidential matters that cannot be disclosed for researchers below Level 2 Clearance. They are known as "mimics" in Fodlan & Valentia and "hydro eidolons" in Teyvat. They take form in any shape the creators (and rarely, the SCP themselves) desire.

𝗔𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗺 𝟬.𝟭: Researcher Ansy confirmed they had mostly forgotten Demetrius' face and only retained information in regards to their deceased spouse's most basic details, which were "blonde and blue eyes."

𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗽𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗦𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗿 𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗿. 𝗠𝗮𝗲𝘀���𝗿𝗼 𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗼'𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗻 "𝗟𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗶𝘁𝗲-𝟳𝟬𝟬'𝘀 𝗗𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗠𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗙𝗼𝗹𝗸𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝘀"

The "End of Year Blues" Tragedy Play is the simultaneously the best and worst way to understand SCP-███ and Dr. Ansy's relationship. It is a crude and sentimental way of expressing what went wrong in their "love story" while continuously painting Dr. Ansy, the author themselves, as the villain.

(𝗜𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗺: all male leading roles in this play are meant to represent Dr. Ansy, which they themselves confirmed in Log AL-43)

It is public knowledge that the junior researcher was a Nabatean Sea Dragon who was entrusted by their divine ruler to pair mortals into loving relationships. The name "Astrilde", in some Norwegian dossiers, was claimed to be their localized version of Cupid, God of Desire. Act I depicts a draconic judge who had placed his lover on a miserable position of forced marriage.

Act II stars a tyrannical royal, which is a title not far off the role Dr. Ansy masqueraded themselves in one of their many lifetimes. It is common for long life species such as the researcher to fake identities and play various roles. One of their many "lives" involved becoming of grave importance to the imperial throne. The second act follows that the prince killed the lector's child, which does not reflect true history. True historical records dictates that the "country destroyer" did everything in their power to save the lector's family.

Hence, we cannot discern that what occured in the play is Dr. Ansy's definitive history word-for-word since it is likely a distorted interpretation of what transpired. Another junior researcher, Dr. Yemon, asserts that their husband truly adored and worship them, and that Dr. Ansy wrote this story as a belated self-punishment for not being able to save him in several reincarnations.

"This was their weird way of handling grief," Dr. Yemon stated. "They'd rather take the blame for his death every time rather than just accept that fate always wants him to die at such an early age. Astrilde never killed Demetrius and his reincarnations or led him to die— they love him too much, and I know they're too scared to acknowledge that he does love them back. Because if he did, it would hurt them more."

As for the last two Acts, III and IV, I'm inclined to believe it is currently ongoing. Dr. Ansy is currently stationed to handle SCP-██████'s (registered name: Kamisato Ayato) matters as his retainer while simultaneously working for the Foundation as our hydro researcher. In Act III, we follow Ansy's slow descent to madness as they fail to save SCP-███ incessantly, and in Act IV we follow how they fail to clone him as well. A rather tall order, for someone who can't remember what their husband looked like.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗗𝗿. 𝗔𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲 "𝗔𝗻𝘀𝘆" ███████-█████'𝘀 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗦𝗖𝗣-███.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟬: "��𝗢𝗣𝗜"

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Dr. Ansy's tears.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: KOPI currently resides in an alternate universe, serving as a moderator for "Lumine". He is the first and last test subject that have been made using Dr. Ansy's DNA. The SCP interestingly does not show major similarities with the researcher and many speculate this as a clear sign that "nurture" triumphs over "nature" in child rearing. See Log-ACG for further details.

[ʜᴇʏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!!! ɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴏғғᴇɴsᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ!!! ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀ. ᴄʀᴇᴍ, ɪ'ʟʟ sᴛʀɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. — ᴀ]

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟭: “𝗗█████𝗶”

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Demetrius' hair.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: Unknown. Likely exterminated. Known to be the closest replica to "Demetrius" Dr. Ansy had created, but his vital organs had allegedly failed under a month. Seemed to have shown signs of affection for them. See files LOG-JM to know more about his platonic relationship with (Person of Interest) Joachim.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟮: “𝗗𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗶𝗳 — 𝗕𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗿”

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Demetrius' hair.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: Alive(?) Currently being used as a "bargaining chip" by the Geo Archon, Morax (Alias: Zhongli). Does not seem to be aware that they are a "hydro eidolon", and not the true Dainsleif. Longest surviving SCP-███ to date.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟯: “𝗗𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗶𝗳 — 𝗛𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗻”

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Demetrius' hair.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: Dead from gunshot wound. See Log-IYT for further details.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟰: “𝗚𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗱”

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Demetrius' right eye.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: Unknown. Test subject was lost in the "back alleys" near the Belobog theater. See Log-1010 for further details.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹 #𝟰: “𝗟𝗮𝘄𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲”

𝗜𝗻𝗽𝘂𝘁: Demetrius' blood sample.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀: Dead upon Test Subject #2's demands. Speculated to have been TS #1's lover. See Log-LW for further details.

[oh-wow-im-still-here]

Hissing and spritzing the spray bottle (block button) at the tgcf accounts on tiktok that display and shame tgcf multishippers in the public square (making tiktoks and @-ing specific accounts about how they're weird and awful people for breaking up hualian)

[quietwingsinthesky]

hey wait why was eleven able to heal river’s wrist? accepting that she’s time lord enough to take in regeneration energy (because i’m assuming he can’t do this for just anyone,) wasn’t the whole point of the s7 finale that he was out of it? no more regenerations? before getting a boost from deus ex gallifrey or something. so where did the river healing energy come from.

[lilshitwayne]

fast and furious was like u bitches want a queer character? i'll give you a queer character and then it was the irredeemable finale villain

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[trappedinafantasy37]

Meh, I’m kinda torn on this myself. I do agree that Lolth hasn’t truly abandoned Minthara, especially since she’s a Baenre. I think Minthara only believes Lolth completely abandoned her because Lolth ignored her in Moonrise when she was on the verge of death and was praying for Lolth to help her. Now, Lolth actually does give all drow who disappoint her a second chance to regain her favor which would include Minthara. Lolth may be hateful and vindictive but, despite popular belief, she isn’t beyond reason nor is she stupid. Lolth is still a god and she has reason to want to keep as many clerics and paladins as she can. But the means of regaining that favor usually involve doing some pretty messed up things and often involves killing a lover.

Not to mention, if Lolth truly did completely abandon Minthara, she would have instantly devoured her the moment Minthara returned to the Underdark in her default ending, or worse. But Lolth absolutely LOVES chaos and she loves it more than she hates those who defy or betray her. And Minthara intends to bring a shit load of chaos when she returns (it's also the reason why I disagree with Minthara being placed as Lawful Evil, she is more Neutral/Chaotic Evil if anything). Especially since Minthara’s chaos involves waging war against the Baenre house which will shake shit up for the entirety of Menzoberranzan and Lolth is going to feed off all of that. Now the Baenre’s are her favorite, but Minthara is also a Baenre. She will most likely just reclaim the house for herself after killing her mother. If Minthara succeeds at what she wants to accomplish, I imagine it would be enough to regain Lolth's favor. It's only a matter of whether or not Minthara actually cares to receive that favor again, which I don't think she cares to.

However, I also think it is much more plausible that Minthara is a canon oathbreaker, but not by choosing. By swearing an oath to the Absolute, her oath with Lolth did indeed break, even if she did not choose to break it. But, that doesn’t really matter. When she leaves the Absolute, her oath with the Absolute also breaks. By this point, Minthara is an oathbreaker twice over. But, she does not swear a new oath to Lolth and has no intentions to. Her time with the Absolute has given her a newfound perspective of the gods and realizes that she wants nothing to do with them and would rather be free of them. If she is going to follow anyone's word she'd rather it be her own.

Instead, Minthara swears a godless oath to destroy the Absolute, which is why she isn’t an oathbreaker by the time she joins camp. However, she does have a line of dialogue in which she says she is unsure if her oath will still stand once the Absolute business is done and over with. Minthara's dialogue does directly state that if you do dominate the Elder Brain, she will swear an Oath of Conquest. But if the Elder Brain isn't destroyed, well, the path diverges a bit and it is a bit unknown as to what becomes of her oath. If she remains in BG with her romance partner, most likely she will keep her Oath of Vengeance. But, her intentions with the Underdark and her house kind of implies both Oath of Vengeance and Oath of Conquest.

Sorry for the rant. You have no idea how much time I had to spent researching Lolth and her relationships with clerics/paladins when I was writing my fanfic.

*WHEEEZE* wait... wait wait... WAIT. HOLD UP WAIT!!!! SO IF A PALADIN'S OATH BEING BROKEN MEANS THEIR DEITY HAS LEFT AND ABANDONED THEM AND THATS WHY THEY FEEL EMPTY, DOES THIS MEAN... WITH A STILL IN PLACE OATH..... *HEAVY BREATHING ON MY KNEES* DOES ... DOES THIS MEAN... LOLTH.... IS STILL WITH MINTHARA... AND HAS NOT ABANDONED HER COMPLETELY LIKE SHE THINKS????

[maniculum]

A post of mine from several months ago about the Perlesvaus self-rearranging forest just wandered across my dash again and made me think about it some more, so I wanted to talk about it a bit.

Perlesvaus, for those who don’t know, is a 13th-century French Arthurian romance. It’s intended to be a continuation of Chretien de Troyes’s Perceval, but it’s mostly known for being completely batshit when it’s known at all. (There’s an old book on Arthurian texts that dedicates a chapter to Perlesvaus and repeatedly speculates that the anonymous author had Something Wrong With Him. This is the longest scholarly treatment of Perlesvaus I’ve been able to find & read.)

Anyway, there’s an odd worldbuilding detail in the text. See, it’s a Thing in chivalric romances that the questing knights happen upon castles & lords & damsels & such that are unfamiliar to them and have to be explained. You know, “this is the Castle of Such-and-Such, where the local custom is as follows. It’s ruled by Lady So-and-So, whose character I shall now describe to you.”

This is a genre convention that largely goes unquestioned, but it’s a bit odd if you think about it. All these knights are at least minor nobility. They don’t know the other nobles in their region? They don’t know what castles are where? Don’t they have, like, diplomatic relations with these people or at least attend the same tournaments? Even if they’re all fully committed to the knight-errant lifestyle and don’t really engage in courtly diplomacy, you’d think they would share information with each other and get the lay of the land. But instead, to use TTRPG terminology, it’s like they’re all on a hexcrawl that was randomly generated just for them to have these adventures.

The author of Perlesvaus decides to address this. In what’s kind of a throwaway paragraph late in the text, he explains that God moves things around so knights always have new quests to do (and, presumably, is also making sure they always arrive at the right narratively-significant moment). So the reason they’re always encountering people & places they have no knowledge of is because those people & places really weren’t there yesterday. They didn’t know about the Castle of Such-and-Such because it’s normally a thousand miles away and the forest path they followed to get there used to lead somewhere else.

And I think that would be a really interesting thing to stick into a novel or a TTRPG or something. When a knight rides into the forest with the intent of Going On A Quest, at some point they go around a bend in the path, cross an invisible barrier, and wind up in the Forest of Narrative. This is a vast forest with no set geography, filled with winding paths and populated almost entirely with questing knights, damsels in search of questing knights, friendly hermits, strange creatures, and allegorical set-pieces. Then, at the narratively-appropriate time, they cross back over the invisible barrier back into the regular world, and find themselves wherever the Narrative has decided they need to be. This could be a different country, a different continent, or a different world entirely.

Whether anyone involved is actually aware that this is how it works is… optional, really. Though if it’s not a Known Phenomenon, the people whose jobs it is to handle trade & diplomacy & god forbid, maps, are going to end up tearing their hair out in frustration.

[throwaway-yandere]

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃:

"–ℌ𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣; 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔰𝔰, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔶𝔰𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔬𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔬𝔰?"

GENSHIN IMPACT

MONDSTADT:

Albedo:

"No." (Professor!Albedo/Student!Reader)

Diluc Ragnvindr:

Dinner With Steaks and Flowers

His Closest Childhood Friend (Soldier, Poet, King)

"O Capo! My Capo!" (debut: chapter 2)

Not Through The Grapevine (yandere!idol event)

I Got Reincarnated As A Server NPC In An Otome Game But A Capture Target Won’t Leave Me Alone 

Kaeya Alberich:

ESTHER (yandere!idol event)

Maid!Merman!Kaeya drabble

"Venti":

Hysteric Humanoid (SAGAU)

LIYUE:

"Zhongli":

Waking Up A Lying Dragon (Bakunawa!Reader)

"If the pedestal is beautiful, then the statue must be even more beautiful."

Xiao:

Wound Dressings (yan!idol event)

Yanfei

Quick yan!fei (lol) brainrot

INAZUMA:

Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto:

Hana Yori Dango (non!yandere itto)

Of Dream A-Dreaming (yandere!idol event)

Kaedehara Kazuha

Flawless

Kamisato Ayato:

Blind Obedience (P2: A Myriad of Fallen Leaves)

Careful, He Bites (P2: Hana Yori Dango) 

Ghost in the Kamisato Estate (minific series)

EDMR (yandere!idol event)

ERROR 401: GONE (Faceless!Ayato)

Faceless Ayato thoughts 1,

The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Chainsaw Man au with Ayato as Makima)

Raiden Ei:

Sunshowers

Thoma:

His Adorable Pen Pal (Soldier, Poet, King)

Shikanoin Heizou

Posteriori (yandere!idol event)

SUMERU:

Alhaitham:

Vision Qualifications

Worksheets 

"O Capo! My Capo!" (Mafia au series)

Alhaitham's Type (yandere!idol event)

Alhaitham selling his soul to a devil!reader brainrot

Dendro NA: 101 (Can be read as VQ’s p2)

Flawless

Cyno:

"O Capo! My Capo!" (Mafia au series)

Alone Together (yandere!idol event)

Dottore:

Click & Drag drabble (feat Cyno)

Classical Conditioning

"Aren't You Supposed To Hate Me?" (yandere!idol event)

Tighnari:

Creative Differences (check "#tag: cd - tighnari" for additional headcanons)

"O Capo! My Capo!!" (Mafia au series)

The Boar Prince/ss (non-yandere secret santa event)

Kaveh:

Paint (non!yandere kaveh, just fluff)

Canvas (drabble)

Flawless

His Version of You

Short boyfriend!kaveh drabble on OCMC/Mafia setting

Wanderer:

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast

Scarborough Fair/Canticle (Prince au)

Flawless

Drabble: Prince Scara x Farmer

FOUNTAINE:

Neuvillette:

Death Has No Dignity

Wriothesley:

And The Sun Is Silent

SNEZHNAYA/FATUI:

Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax:

His Ice Fishing Buddy (Soldier, Poet, King)

Comfort (drabble)

Pantalone:

Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast

OUTLANDERS/KHAENRIAH'NS:

Aether:

Hysteric Humanoid (SAGAU)

Dainsleif, my beloved:

Hysteric Humanoid

Ouroboros, The 8th Capo (OC!MC!)

Estella's Modern!Dain x Reader but I made it yandere lmao (dw it's my irl bestie)

"If You Truly Loved Me, You Should Be Dead" (hitman!dain, my husband.)

Dolce Stil Nuovo

Lumine:

Hysteric Humanoid

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

SOLDIER, POET, KING

"What if Varka's cousin found 3 different secret admirers?"

"Someone like that getting admirers? As if."

Parts:

His Ice Fishing Buddy, His Adorable Pen Pal, His Closest Childhood Friend

HYSTERIC HUMANOID

"Even today, don't give up on a human heart; claim it even if it hurts." - ALKALOID

A SAGAU fic where The Creator had turned into an amnesiac who believed they're a mere impostor with a knack for gravity manipulation and not much else. And it appears that both Lumine and Dainsleif would stop at nothing to get you on their side.

Chapters, Side Stories & Their Main Focus Characters:

♦ Prologue: The Longest Devout Believers - Dainsleif, Lumine, Venti, and Kaeya

♦ Chapter 1: 500 Year Long Identity Crisis - Baizhu, Dainsleif, Lumine

♦ Drabble 1: How would they celebrate your birthday/The Creator's anniversary? - Dainsleif, Lumine, Baizhu, Venti, Kaeya, Zhongli, Ayaka

♦ Chapter 2: A Contract Long Overdue (WIP) - Zhongli, Dainsleif, Kaeya

"O CAPO! MY CAPO!"

Set in visionless 1920s Teyvat, three inconspicuous yet significant men began to spy on the Fatui's 8th Capo: (Y/n) (L/n). The story begins when the Innamorati Familia's headquarters burns down and in a twist of fate, to say that you've been dealt with an awful hand would be the understatement of the decade. Can you survive– most importantly– can you make the right choices? ((Welcome to the interactive mafia au fic! Have fun voting on the polls!!!))

Otome Game Main Love Interests:

Inquisitor Cyno, Informant Tighnari, Underboss Alhaitham, (CURRENTLY LOCKED: Church Architect Kaveh)

Secret Routes:

Visconti Diluc, "Venti" (LOCKED), ??? (LOCKED), ???, ???, ???

Chapters:

1: "O Capo! My Capo!"

2: The Capo's Soliloquy 

Bad End 1: "You're Collei's Friend, After All!"

3: The Fox Hunt (Tuqburni)

BRAND NEW ARCHON (Chapter 1-3 animatic)

Short bf!Kaveh drabble (not "canon)

"My Beloved Producer..." (GENSHIN IDOL AU)

Masterlist

NOTE: CHECK YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL SETTINGS AND TURN OFF FILTERS IF THE MASTERLIST LINK WON'T WORK. Tumblr must've thought I wrote something explicit (in a masterlist???) and tagged it as mature :///

Flawless

Aka: my last fanfic featuring Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha. A fanfic-game with 4 branching endings.

Premise: You're stuck in a killing game inside your dream school. It started with 16 students– and now you're left with only 6 of them. Senior Faruzan was murdered. Who is the culprit among these 5 people?

Link

FIRE EMBLEM: THREE HOUSES

BLUE LIONS:

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd: (my fave fictional man of all time)

Saudade

ps: he's your underboss in "O Capo! My Capo!" lol

BLACK EAGLES:

(coming soon...)

GOLDEN DEER:

(coming soon...)

GARREG MACH MONASTERY:

(coming soon...)

HONKAI: STAR RAIL

ASTRAL EXPRESS:

(coming soon...)

JARILO VI:

Gepard Landau

What Happened At 10:10 (has 2 endings. Won't link it, reach the end of the story in your own way.)

XIANZHOU LUOFU:

Jing Yuan

Misaligned Strings (non-yandere, pure fluff & angst)

IPC

Dr. Veritas Ratio

His Version of You

PENACONY

Sunday

Cannibal!Sunday HCs

"ℑ'𝔡 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔡𝔩𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡."

"𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬 𝔢𝔫𝔡. 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔩."

[mariacallous]

Last year, the lead singer of The 1975, Matt Healy, managed to offend a whole lot of Gaelgoirí (Irish speakers) when he appeared to mock a fan’s name – Dervla – at a meet-and-greet.

Healy isn’t alone, though, when it comes to anglophone bafflement at Irish names. A recent study based on an analysis of Google searches revealed the words that British people have the most difficulty pronouncing. The names Aoife, Saoirse, Niamh and Siobhán occupy places in the top 10.

And it’s not exclusively a British problem: I always cringe watching US talkshows where the host quizzes their Irish guest (usually Saoirse Ronan) on the pronunciation of their and other Irish names.

I’ve heard every possible variation of my own name from non-Irish people. It’s not uncommon in Ireland; in secondary school, there were four Niamhs in my class. But I rarely come across an English person who is familiar with it, despite the proximity of our two countries.

In case you don’t know, it’s pronounced “Neev” or “Nee-av”, either is perfectly acceptable. The prefix Ní means “daughter of”. My surname is trickier, and has even tripped up a few Irish people; it can be translated as Herbert, and is pronounced “her-a-vard”.

When I was living in London, I quickly learned that saying Niamh at the counter in a coffee shop or over the phone to make a booking simply wouldn’t fly. This led to the invention of what I call my “Starbucks name”. Anything easily pronounceable with a simple spelling would do. Mia, Sophie and Rose were among my common aliases.

Speaking to others reveals a litany of similar experiences. Aoibhe Ní Shúilleabháin, a designer and teacher, spent two years at college in England having her name mispronounced and disrespected. (Her first name is pronounced “Ay-vah”.) More than one lecturer resorted to calling her “blondie”.

She tells me: “I was asked to say, ‘Three hundred and thirty three trees’” – a tongue-twister that does the rounds on TikTok – “more often than I was asked to repeat my name.” She recalls the lack of interest when she attempted to explain that Irish and English are different languages with different pronunciation rules.

Clearly, the sensitivities at play here are rooted in history: Ireland was colonised by the English and our national language was all but wiped out. A language revival began in earnest in the 19th century, but it’s never quite recovered. Ireland’s most recent census shows that about 40% of Ireland’s population can speak Irish. The English destroyed our language once before, so every little throwaway comment and scoff at our names hurts a little bit more – and ultimately becomes just tiresome. A handful of people even remark, “Oh! I didn’t know Ireland had its own language,” when I tell them about my name.

Writer Darach Ó Séaghdha is all too familiar with these difficulties. (The “rach” in Darach is pronounced like “Bach”, he says.)He hosted a podcast called Motherfocl��ir, a podcast about the Irish language and culture, and whenever there were guests on with Irish names, “inevitably the episode would turn into group therapy”. There was one bad experience, he recalls, when he was told that his surname “looked like a wifi password”. But he decided to give his children Irish names, too. It’s a common trend, he says, “because parents with Irish names have been battle-hardened”.

Like the others I spoke to for this piece, writer and director Rioghnach (think “Ree-nock”)Ní Ghrioghair believes that a sense of superiority among English speakers is to blame for the constant mistreatment of Irish names. But she’s defiant. “We are going to scrutinise the British for any transgression regarding the pronunciation of our names,” and other things, she tells me, like British media claiming Irish actors as their own during awards seasons.

There is no easy crash-course I can give to you on the pronunciation of Irish names, but you can always try out “how to pronounce”-style websites (which themselves can be contested). But the simplest and most reliable solution is perhaps just to politely ask an Irish person – and listen attentively to what they say. I may have accepted that English people are very rarely going to get my name right on the first go, but I appreciate a well-intentioned effort. Just don’t laugh at it, please.

[shortformblog]

I appreciate when people put in the work.

The Internet Show (1995), "Netiquette"

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 16-Step-Sibling Incest-Chrollo/Reader/Hisoka/Illumi

Notes:

ok soooo, we’re finishing up Kinktober with a bang! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) anyway, this one is gonna be kind of hard to write but im starting it a bit early cause i have a lot of free time today! Btw this shits ooc as hell but idgaf. It's also looooooong, like over 8k words loooooong. Anyway, enjoy

Title is from ‘The Boys’ by Girls Generation

btw art is from pinterest, if its ur dm me and ill credit u<3

....

You find out your mother remarried when her postcard arrives in the mail. It's a short note, and starts out by telling you that she's on vacation in Bali. She goes on in detail about all the cool things she's doing, and you just shake your head, very used to your mothers forgetful attitude. And then, at the end in a little throwaway sentence, she mentions that she got remarried. 

‘He's a lovely man. And he's got three boys, Name dear. Try to get along with them, and don't cause trouble!’ 

You shake your head, annoyed at the entire note. She tells you not to cause trouble? As if you would, you don't care enough about your mother to bother being upset about the news. But she could have at least invited you to the wedding. She probably forgot about you, her only daughter. It sounds insane, and impossible, but you're very used to your mother forgetting about you entirely. You didn't mind anymore. She pays for anything you need, and your life is comfortable, if not happy. But you could live with that. 

You stare at the postcard for a minute, taking in the colorful flowers and ocean on the front. The bright colors hurt your eyes a bit. But brothers! You couldn't believe it. You had lived your entire life an only child, and now that was about to change. You felt a bit of tentative excitement fill your heart, lifting your moon and painting a smile across your face. You smiled, pinning the stupid postcard to the fridge. It stood out, the only thing on the entire front of the fridge. 

Things are about to change. For better or worse, you don't know. 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

It's lunch break the next day. You're sitting at your usual lunch table, telling your friend about the postcard, the sun shining down on the uniformed students sitting around in the courtyard of your expensive private school. A brisk breeze whistles through the air, rustling your knee length skirt. You shiver, grabbing your uniform jacket from where you had discarded it, and pulling it back on. Your friend Evelyne, sitting across from you and picking at her sandwich, rolls her eyes.

“Your mom sucks, Name.” She says, popping a green grape into her mouth. You smile.

“Oh, she's not that bad, Evie.” You say, feeling the need to defend your mom, even though she doesn't deserve it. Evie rolls her eyes, pulling at the sleeve of her gray sweater. The school forbids any clothing items aside from uniforms of course, and a jacket or sweater over your white button up. Evie had decorated her sweater with pins and patches, adding a slight bit of uniqueness to the sea of girls wearing similar uniforms. You were too lazy, just wearing the normal dark navy uniforms. Evie was so cool in your opinion. She even dared to dye her hair a brilliant orange red color, which was against the rules. But apparently the school was too busy checking that all the girls' skirts were the correct length, that they missed Evie’s bright hair. Or maybe they didn't care. Evie’s father donated to the school a lot, after all. Evie pulls at her hair, fluffing her bob around her face. 

“Seriously though Name, that was so uncool of your mom. First she doesn't invite you to the wedding, and now just dropping three step siblings on you?” Evie says, her voice echoing in the courtyard a little too loudly. You look around anxiously, but no one cares. The brisk breeze blows some leaves off the large tree over your heads, and you watch them tumble down to the ground.

“I mean it's not too bad, right?” You ask, stealing one of her grapes. “I really don't know anything about them, they could be nice!”

“Sure,” Evie says, taking a large bite of her sandwich. “That was still a dick move, though.”

“Maybe,” You giggle, popping another grape in your mouth. “They might—”

Someone clears their throat right behind you. Startling, drop your third grape, and turn around. There's a boy standing behind you. Looming over you and Evie and the table, with long straight hair tumbling down his back. He's wearing the male version of the uniform, without the jacket. You raise an eyebrow.

“Um, can I help you?” You ask. You hadn't heard anyone come up behind you. The boy doesn't say anything, simply looking you up and down with no expression on his face. He has big eyes, like a porcelain doll in the window of a shop. His skin is pale, his lashes long, his mouth a pale pink. He's quite handsome. And then he opens his mouth.

“I am disappointed,” He says, voice even and cold. There is barely any inflection there at all, but his eyebrows furrow slightly as he looks at you. You frown.

“Uh, what?” You ask, confused. It seems like he’s insulting you, but you can't quite tell because you don't even know who this guy is, what the hell he's talking about, or why he's talking to you in the first place. Evie frowns, opening her mouth. You shake your head at her.

“You know, when people usually meet each other for the first time, it's polite to introduce yourself.” You say, trying to smile through the confusion and slight annoyance. The boy tilts his head, hair waterfalling down his back. You're kind of jealous of it, it looks so smooth and straight. 

“I am Illumi.” The boy says after a moment. And then, before you can spack, he continues. “Father informed us that we are to live with you from now on. I am disappointed.”

The pieces start falling together, the puzzle solving itself in an instant in your mind. Your mouth drops open, a chill running through your body. 

“You're one of my new step siblings?” You ask, jumping to your feet in shock. Illumi nods, frowning slightly at your sudden movement. He's very tall, looming over you even when you're standing right in front of him. You offer a hand, trying to smile. He's been quite rude, but you still give him a few chances to make it up. After all, he has a right to be upset about this situation, after all. His father had just gotten married, just like your mother. You wonder if he was invited to the wedding. 

Illumi stares down at your hand, frowning like it's personally offended him somehow. Finally, after your smile starts to waver, he takes it, giving you a quick handshake. 

“It's nice to meet you.” You say, really trying to mean it. Illumi nods. He doesn't talk much, just stands there before you, staring deep into your eyes with his big, black soulless ones. 

“You are very normal.” Illumi says, looking you up and down again. You raise an eyebrow, trying to figure out if that's a compliment or an insult.

“Is that good or bad?” You ask. You can hear Evie grinding her teeth behind you, like an angry guard dog. Illumi tilts his head to the side, tapping his chin. He moves a bit like a robot, slow, calculated, and cold. 

“Simply an observation,” He says, straightening his head. His hair flows distractingly around him. You don't know how to feel.

“Oh,” You say, forcing a customer service smile. “You look like a porcelain doll.”

Evie chokes on a laugh. You know she's rolling her eyes behind you. Illumi’s brow furrows, his black eyes slipping from your own for a moment, to look behind you. 

“Your friend is quite loud.” He says, looking back at you like you should deal with it. You raise an eyebrow. This guy is really weird.

“I guess?” You say, running a hand through your hair. “She sounds normal to me.”

Illumi frowns, standing still and straight like a robot. 

“The two of you are similar in your normality,” He says. “I shall inform father that I am disappointed in his choice of family.”

He turns, walking away briskly, his hair swinging behind him. You strain your ears, listening for the footsteps that are supposed to be there. You hear none. 

“Well, he's just lovely, huh.” Evie says, popping a grape into her mouth. You sit down again, taking a bite of your own food.

“He's quite odd,” You say, taking a sip of your soda. “Reminds me of a robot. Or a haunted doll.”

Evie chuckles, tossing her half eaten sandwich in the trash can with a thump. She grabs one of your apple slices, taking a bite. You steal a grape in retaliation, even though you’ve already eaten half of them. You make a mental note to grab some grapes at the grocery store later. 

“Well name,” Evie says, tossing the rest of her trash as the bell signaling the end of lunch echoes through the air. “I hope you're excited to meet the rest of your step-siblings.”

“I don't know, I guess I am a little bit.” You say, tossing your trash as you and Evie start towards your English class. “They can't be weirder than Illumi, right?”

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You might have to eat your words, you think to yourself as you stand in the front entrance of your large house, staring at the three boys across from you. It's been about two weeks since your first meeting with Illumi, and your mother and her new husband had just arrived back from their vacation. It seems the boys had not been invited. You feel a bit vindictively happy about that. Your mother and her new husband barely spared you a few drive by greetings before they vanished into the house with their bags. Leaving you and your three new step brothers in the front entrance. You break the silence, offering your hand with a smile. 

“Im Name,” You say, voice echoing in the front entrance. The room stills for a moment, and then the tallest one darts into action. He moves forward, gripping your hand in his cold, pale hands, and shaking it firmly. 

“How lovely it is to meet you, Name.” He says, smiling. His yellow eyes dart up and down your body, zeroing in on your uniform, and then your eyes. He runs a hand through his bright red hair, pushing it back off his forehead. It falls back immediately, obscuring his eyes slightly as he speaks.

“Having such a pretty sister is so exciting.” He says, pointed canines flashing in the light. You flush. 

“Hisoka,” One of the other boys says, voice a warning. “Stop it.”

The red haired boy, Hisoka, simply smirks wider, slowly bringing your hand up to press a kiss to the top. You flush, yanking your hand away from his plush lips. He tilts his head, pouting like a wounded puppy. The black shirt he's wearing stretches over the muscles of his chest and arms. He's really hot. So are all of them actually. You wince internally. These boys are going to be your step brothers, you aren't allowed to lust after them, no matter how attractive they are. 

“It's nice to meet you,” You say, forcing down your blush. Hisoka's smile returns to his face. It looks practiced, rehearsed, fake. This one is dangerous. 

“I'm the oldest, you see. Chrollo, the frowny one with the bangs,” he gestures backwards at the boy in question, who simply sighs as Hisoka continues, “Is the middle child. And the one on the end is the youngest.”

“Illumi and i met already actually.” You interject, frowning slightly. Hisoka raises a single eyebrow. 

“Oh dear, I hope he wasn't too rude.” He says, smiling apologetically. You resist the urge to tattle, and brush your hair over your shoulders. You're wearing simple clothes, some jeans and a nice blouse. Your mother had texted you before they had arrived, asking you not to ‘embarrass her’. 

“Oh, he was fine.” You say quietly, ignoring the way Illumi stares into your soul. “We go to the same school. Do you guys go there too?”

Hisoka chuckles, looming over you a bit. His stare edges towards predatory sometimes. 

“Oh no dear, I graduated a couple years ago.” He laughs, arm flexing as he pats you gently on the shoulder. 

“Oh,” You say, ignoring the lingering hand on your shoulder. He's very physical. “Would you guys like a tour of the house?”

“That would be lovely!” Hisoka exclaims, spinning you around bodily and gripping your waist. “You're very sweet, darling.”

You smile, ducking away from the hand clutching your waist. It's better for your own sanity. The other boys trail behind you as you exit the main entrance way. 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Adjusting to the new living situation isn't as bad as you thought it would be. Your mother and her new husband don't hang around the house often, and even if they do, they usually stay secluded to their wing of the house. Hisoka often isn't at the house for long stretches of time, or comes back quite late at night. It's too bad, he's the most friendly of his brothers. Illumi is home almost twenty-four seven, leaving only for school and the occasional odd errand. Chrollo vanishes, you don't know where he goes. But he's probably still at the house. You think. 

It's been a few weeks since you were first introduced to them, but your life hasn't really changed all that much. The two younger boys aren't very friendly or inviting, and you haven't had the chance to talk to them as much as you’d like. It would be nice if you could get to know them a bit better. So that's what you're doing now. 

Illumi is probably in his room. He usually goes straight to his room after school, and shuts the door behind him with a slam. All of the bedrooms are in the same hallway, two on each side. Your parents bedroom is in their wing of the house, of course.

You walk up the stairs, steeling yourself for a hard fight. Illumi is a weirdo who can't really carry a conversation well and doesnt want to talk to you, but you're determined to try to be friends with him. Or at least, civil. You even have a plan. Ask for help with homework, and then the two of you could be study buddies. You were in the same grade, which meant you had the same classes. It was a perfect plan! Well, maybe not perfect, but pretty good. 

The hallway is dark. You switch on the light with a click, illuminating the metal plates on each door. Your room is next to Illumi’s. Hisoka and Chrollo’s rooms are on the other side. No light shows from under their doors. They're probably out. Illumi’s room has cold bright light leaking into the hallway, however. You dip into your room to change out of your school uniform. Slinging on a tank top and a pair of sweatpants, you grab your study materials and walk a few feet down the hall. Raising your hand, you knock tentatively on Illumi’s door. 

“Hey Illumi? It's me, can I come in?” You ask through the door. It's quiet, and for a moment you wonder if he's actually not in. and then he speaks.

“Yes.” He says, quietly, just barely audible through the thick wood of the door. You take a deep breath, steel yourself and open the door.

You step through, cold feet meeting a blue carpet, and close the door behind you. Illumi looks up, staring at you with wide, confused eyes. He’s sitting on the floor with his study materials spread neatly on a low table. You smile.

“Can I study with you?” You ask, hiding your shaking hands behind your back. Illumi blinks for a moment, as if mentally calculating whether or not it's a good idea. Finally, he nods.

“I don't see why not.” He says, looking back to his own study materials. You smile.

“Thanks,” You say, moving into the room and bending down to place your study materials out. Illumi makes an odd noise, like a choke and a cough at the same time. You look up, worried. His face is a little flushed.

“You ok?” You ask, sitting down across from him at the low table. Illumi nods.

“I am fine.” He says, eyes wandering from you to your work to the wall behind you. You shrug, turning to your study materials. The room sinks into silence, broken by the occasional turning of pages and the scratching of pencil on paper. Finally, when you think he's adjusted to your presence enough, you speak.

“Hey Illumi, what did you mean when you said I was normal?” 

Illumi looks up from his work, eyes darting past your chest a little slowly and focusing on your eyes. He tilts his head in confusion. 

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He says, as if it's obvious. You frown.

“But what does it mean?” You try again, “Like that im ugly?”

“You are not ugly.” Illumi says, voice sounding a bit weird. You flush.

“Oh, thanks.” You say, scratching your chain awkwardly. “Is it that I'm boring?”

Illumi stares at you long and hard, barely blinking. It seems like he's trying to figure out why you're upset. It reminds you of a robot, updating its programming as it tries to figure out what the weird human is upset about. Finally, he shakes his head.

“The words I used were inappropriate. I apologize.” Illumi offers, face still blank. “I simply met you were not the tyrant your mother portrayed you as.”

You frown. You've heard those words before, the insults aren't uncommon from your mother. But it still hurts. Your chest aches as you force a smile.

“Oh, really?” You say, forcing a fake laugh. “What did she say?”

Illumi frowns slightly, watching your face closely. He seems to be scanning for any change, any hint that you're upset. But your poker face is flawless, you've had a lot of practice. Finally, he opens his mouth.

“You were a spoiled brat who would throw a tantrum at a moment's notice.” He says, placing his pencil down on the table. “I was informed you went to my school, so I decided to meet you. You were not like I had been told, and I simply expressed it poorly.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. You know your mother doesn't like you that much, or at least never wanted children, but is this what she thought of you? You feel like you're going to cry. You don't want to, you can't cry in front of Illumi. But against your will you feel tear after tear roll down your face. Illumi looks almost helpless as you cry, whipping it away with the back of your hand. 

“Are you sad?” Illumi asks, frowning. He looks like he doesn't know what to do.

“Yes, Illumi.” You sob, tears rolling faster and faster down your face. “I'm crying. Have you never seen a girl cry?”

Illumi shakes his head, hand hanging awkwardly in the air between you. He clenches his fingers a few times, then lets it drop down. 

“I don't really talk to girls.” Illumi says, staring in confusion as the tears roll down your cheeks. He looks almost adorable in his helplessness. Your shoulders shake as you cry, big fat tears rolling down your face and hitting the fabric of your tank top, soaking the blue fabric a darker blue. Illumi stares, awkwardly shuffling his pencil around in front of him. Finally, you give up.

“You're supposed to comfort crying girls.” You whimper, wiping the tears away as fast as they come. 

“Comfort?” Illumi asks, tilting his head. You nod.

“Just give me a hug, Illumi.” You cry, crawling around the table towards him. Illumi sits there awkwardly as you throw yourself against his black covered chest. You cry into the turtleneck he's wearing, muffling your sobs into his chest. Illumi sits straight up, hands hovering awkwardly above your body until finally, when you crawl fully onto his lap, he settles them on your back. His hands are big, and warm. Finally, the tears start to subside. 

You snuggle into his neck and shoulder, warm and snug against his surprisingly hot body. In both temperature and stature, actually. He has broad shoulders, and strong arms through the thick black fabric of the turtleneck. You giggle, drawing circles on his shoulders as you wipe the last tears away. 

“Thanks for giving me a hug.” You sigh, still burrowing into his warm body. Illumi coughs, the sound loud in the relative silence of the house. 

“I apologize if it was a poor hug. I was never taught to give one.” He says, voice rumbling out from his chest. You giggle, shifting on his lap.

“What are you talking about, silly. No one gets taught how to hug.” You say, running your hand through strands of his long, silky hair. Illumi coughs, clearing his throat as you shift on his lap again. The room sinks into comfortable silence for a moment. 

“What, have you never hugged a girl before?” You laugh, moving again. Illumi makes a choked little sound in his throat, and shakes his head.

“I told you, I don't really talk to girls.” He says, his voice sounding a bit strained. You frown, pulling away from his chest to look him directly in the face. A faint flush has painted itself across his cheeks. 

“Hey, are you alright? You sound weird.” You say, bringing a hand up and pressing it against his forehead. You shift on his lap a bit as you bring your other hand up, touching your own forehead. He doesn't have a fever, at least.

“I am fine.” Illumi nods. His cheeks are still just the palest petal pink, but his ears have started burning pure red among the strands of  black hair. You're kind of alarmed. You dont think you’ve ever seen a hint of pink on his face, and now you see so much. You shift slightly as Illumi’s hands fall, grabbing your waist tightly.

“You should get off.” He says, voice warbling slightly. You frown, trying to ignore how butterflies rise in your stomach as his hands clench around your waist. 

“Wait, why?” You ask, grabbing his shoulders as you slip slightly, pulling yourself close against him. “I was enjo—”

You stop suddenly as you feel something under your thigh. Illumi looks away, body tensing as you move experimentally, pressing against the thing. It jumps against you. Illumi chokes.

“Are you hard?” You ask, voice loud in the silence. Illumi winces slightly.

“No.” He says, pulling his head back until his hair partially obscures his face. You shift experimentally and are rewarded with his hands clenching down on your waist. 

“Illumi you literally are.” You say, biting back a smile. Illumi doesn't say anything. Now you know you should be disgusted. He's your step-brother, after all. But, you can't quite bring yourself to pull away and run to your room. So instead you slide down his thighs, slowly crawling backwards on the floor until you're sitting a few feet in front of Illumi. His face looks dreadfully blank, like he expects you to slap him. Your eyes trace down his figure, taking in his broad shoulders and trim waist, and the bulge in his pants. You really wanna fuck him. But somehow, that seems like too much. Like it's a line you can't cross as step siblings, so you'll settle for this. Reaching your hand out slowly, carefully, you bring it down, stroking him over his pants. 

The effect is instantaneous. Illumi’s back straightens, his body tensing as a small groan leaks out from between his clenched lips. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” Illumi asks, obviously trying to keep his tone even as you stroke him.

“Thanking you.” You smile, pulling the belt of his sweatpants down. There's a small wet patch on his gray underwear, near the tip. You grin, licking your lips, and pressing your hand against him. Illumi whimpers, and quickly bites the rest of the sound back. You wish he would let all of his sounds out, but you doubt he will. And so you pull him out of his boxers, stroking him gently in your hand. Illumi bites his lips, eyes falling closed as you stroke him. He looks so pretty like this. Back straight and stiff, hair pooling around his shoulders and hitting the ground, cheeks flushed cherry blossom pink. You grin, mouth watering, and bend down. 

“Wait, Name.” Illumi protests, his voice slightly hoarse. You pause, looking up at him from your position on the floor. His black eyes are filled with swirling lust and something else you can't quite place. 

“Yeah?” You ask, letting a big glob of spit fall from your lips and plop onto Illumis dick. It twitches and Illumis shoulders twitch with it. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, eyes locked on your own. You smile.

“I'm gonna give you a blowjob.” You say, and then start taking him into your mouth. He was clearly going to say more things, probably useless things that you don't want to hear, but they dissolve in his throat as you take him as far as you can, using your hand on the parts you can't reach. You make sure to use your hand on the parts you can't quite reach. Illumi groans again, as one hand clenches in the fabric of the carpet, and the other grabs your hair. You humm around him, pulling up and down, doing your best to drive him mad. It must be working, too, because tiny huffs and groans have started to leak out, even though he must be doing his best to hold them back. You can feel him twitching in your throat, probably close to cumming. 

You smile around him, pressing a kidd to the tip before eating him down your throat again. Illumi groans, hand yanking your hair a bit as he does.

“Wait name im—”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence before something warm and sticky is flowing down your throat. You do your best to swallow it all before you pull off him, licking your lips. And then you realize what you just did. Illumi looks out of it, his black eyes hazy and confused, his cheeks still flushed. His dick is lying on the hem of his pants, tracking spit and cum on them. He looks very pretty. And then it just hits you what you’ve done. You gave your step brother a blowjob. You jump to your feet, trying to fix your hair. Illumi startles, shoving himself back into his underwear and pulling up his pants. Finally, when the room sinks into silence, you speak.

“Don't tell anyone.” You say, whipping a spot of cum off your boobs. Illumis eyes jump there, and then back to your own. You wait for him to agree, then flee to your room in embarrassment. What the hell have you done. 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

So maybe your plan to get to know your step brother didn't exactly go as you had thought. But you were still determined to get to know them. Without the blowjob part, obviously. You sigh, turning a page in your book as you stare into space. The library was your favorite part of your house. The smell of books and lavender filled your nostrils and helped you calm down. The light was golden, pouring over the little seating area you’ve found yourself in. It was a perfect place to read. 

Too bad you're not actually reading, just trying to forget the Blowjob Incident™ from two days ago. You sigh, remembering it again and shifting your legs. You hate to admit how much it kinda turns you on. How you just wanna go back and demand that Illumi eat you out. You sigh, crossing your legs again, and closing your book with a slam. Well, the book was boring anyway. 

Your socked feet make barely a noise on the hardwood floors as you move back into the tall bookshelves that rise to the sky. Well, the ceiling. The bookshelves aren't that tall but they still feel tall. You slip the book away, and then move down the narrow hallways of books running your hand along their spines. Maybe a smut book will make you a little less pent up. Or more, but you could at least blame it on the book then, and not the Blowjob Incident™. 

The smut section of the library was there when you and your mom moved in. Actually, most of the books were. It makes sense because the house has been in your family for generations. You chose not to think too hard about which of your dead relatives had picked out the smut books. You had already read all of them, but you scanned the shelf for one of the better ones. 

Finally you spot one, the familiar gold and red cover sitting teasingly out of reach on the top shelf. You stand on your tippy toes, and reach up as high as you can, your fingertips just brushing the bottom. You brace your hand against one of the lower shelves and strain as high as you can. Someone chuckles behind you. And then a warm body comes up behind you, reaching just the last few inches to grab the book from the shelf and recede. You spin, and take in Chrollo, standing in front of you with the book outstretched.

“Here you go,” He says, offering you the book. You take it quickly, holding it against your chest as you flush.

“Thanks,” You say, hiding the title of the book as best you can. Better to be safe than sorry. Chrollo smiles slightly, folding his arms across his chest. He's wearing a fluffy looking sweater. You clear your throat, still standing with your back against the smut books. 

“Are you enjoying the library?” You ask, in a hurry to change the subject, so he doesnt start asking questions about your book.

“Yes it's quite extensive.” Chrollo says, brushing a hand through his hair. “I myself have been enjoying the philosophy and nonfiction sections.”

“Oh,” You say, smiling slightly. “Those sections are pretty good, the nonfiction section especially has some pretty interesting and rare books. ”

“You seem to know this library pretty well.” Chrollo says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black pants. “I assume you’ve read most of the collection?”

“Yep, almost all of it.” You say, smiling excitedly. “I haven't quite got through the cookbook section.”

You love the library. It's such a lovely place to escape too. And besides, your mother never comes in here. She says it's too dusty, even though the maids do a wonderful job of cleaning the entire house. You sigh, leaning back against the bookcase. Chrollo frowns.

“You seem upset about something.” He says, moving a few steps closer. You sigh. Your mothers words still sit a bit heavy in your heart, but you're more used to her cruelty than you should be. It's embarrassing that you're actually more upset about the Blowjob Incident™. But you definitely can't tell Chrollo that. So your mother is getting thrown under the bus. Besides, you're kind of curious to hear what they were told about you.

“What where…” You say, clearing your throat, and trying again. “Well I mean, how much did you guys know about me before you moved in.”

Silence falls for a moment as Chrollo considers you, taking in your body, clothes up a turtleneck, pleated skirt and socks, your face as you avoid his eyes. Then he speaks.

“Oh, not much. At least I wasn't told anything.” Chrollo says almost soothingly, moving forward to pat you gently on the arm as he continues. “I know father told Illumi a bit more.”

You frown, tilting your head. 

“Why not you?” You ask, looking up at him. Chrollo stifles a smile.

“Oh, Father and I don't get along.” He rubs your shoulder reassuringly, and you shiver as his warm hand leaves you. “Illumi listens to him. Hisoka and I do not.”

“Oh,” You say, shoving down your confusion and the urge to pry. “Well, did you know anything?”

“Your age and gender.” Chrollo says, patting you on the head with a chuckle. “Is that what you were upset about? Don't you worry, We all had a favorable impression of you the moment we saw you.”

You frown, brow furrowing in confusion as Chrollo steers both of you out of the seas of bookshelves and back into the rest area. You spot a book resting open on the couch, a mug of something warm on the table. Steam spirals into the air, and you sit down on the other end of the couch, watching Chrollo as he picks up the book, sitting neatly in the middle. You sigh, brushing your hair out from behind you and leaning back, closing your eyes. The sounds of page turning fills the air, broken only by Chrollo’s slow, even, breathing. 

You open your own book, too embarrassed to change books now. What would you say if he asked why you were exchanging your book? ‘Oops, I grabbed a smut book because I was feeling horny after I gave your brother a blowjob, and I'm too embarrassed to read it in front of you.’ Hello no. Besides, Chrollo isn't paying attention to you, and you’ve already read this book a thousand times. The smut won't turn you on as it once had, you're sure. 

You were wrong. Maybe it's something about the fact that chrollo is sitting a few inches away, turning the pages of his own book calmly, or maybe you were just that horny, but you're barely into the smut scene when your pussy starts throbbing. You shuffle on the couch, crossing your legs and clenching your thighs together. You shiver at the little burst of pleasure that gave you and continue reading, body tight and tense. You're barely digesting the words on the page, far too busy being distracted by the warm body a few inches away from you. Chrollo is much more interesting than the stupid smut book anyway. 

You look at him out of the corner of your eyes. His hair falls gently, angled down towards the book in his lap. It's some philosophy book, you don't care enough to try to make out the tiny text at the top of the page. Chrollo's skin is pale, sharp against the black of his hair. It's a close shade to the cream white of his sweater. You want to reach out and brush his hair out of his eyes, then beg him to kiss you senseless. 

You curse the universe for giving you such hot men who were so close in age to you and lived with you, and then making them your step siblings. So out of reach. You ignore the looming memories of the Blowjob Incident™, and turn a page, trying to focus on the smut scene. But words on a page cannot distract you from the subtle scent of Chrollo's cologne, floating in the air between you. You shift uncomfortably on the couch as your pussy floods with heat, your body begging to be touched. 

You're crossing your legs again when Chrollo speaks.

“You seem a bit restless.” He says, pausing before the last word. You slam your book shut, not even bothering to put a bookmark in it. Your face must be flushed, you know.

“I guess.” You say, clearing your throat. You swear you can hear your arousal in your voice, smell it in the air. The room sinks into silence as Chrollo puts a bookmark in his book, setting it down on the table with a soft thump. You clutch yours in your lap, kind of thankful for a hard thing to clutch. Not like that. Chrollo smiles at you softly, his gray eyes glowing slightly in the lowlight.

“Bad book?” He asks, gesturing towards the book in your lap with a nod. You squeak, shrugging. 

“Uh, it's fine!” You say, putting it on your other side. You feel like a rubber band pulled tight, about to snap. Chrollo seems to be moving closer. 

“I'm impressed,” Chrollo chuckles, scooting closer to you along the couch. 

“What?” You say, heart pounding double time as his gray eyes move closer and closer. You scoot backwards until you're sitting with your back pressed against the arm. The book slides off the couch, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. Chrollo chuckles, stopping a few feet away from your knees. 

“It's quite bold to read a smut book an inch away from your step brother.” Chrollo says simply, a small smile marking his pale lips. Your mouth drops open.

“How did you know?” You ask, voice a little to breathless for you liking. A flush is working its way up your chest and neck, and overtaking your face. Your traitorous pussy drools arousal on your panties. Chrollo chuckles.

“I memorized the Library layout.” He says, smoothing a hand over your sock covered calf. “I'm sure you did as well.”

You’ve had it memorized since you were a child. But you're very distracted right now by his warm hand as it moves slightly higher on your raised legs, now brushing past your knee. You bite back a whimper, not daring to make a noise as his hand travels higher and higher. Chrollo chuckles.

“We certainly aren't the best step siblings, aren't we?” He says, hand stroking up and down your thigh, tips of his fingers barely brushing the edges of your pleated skirt. His fingers feel hot against your bare skin. You slap your hand over your mouth, and Chrollo smirks. 

“What are they going to say?” You whimper through your hand as Chrollo gently grips both your thighs, urging them apart. Chrollo chuckles, tugging down your panties, the last sticky barrier between him and your telling wetness. 

“Who, our parents?” he asks, voice still so soft in the large silence of the caverness library. “They're never here. How could they know?”

 You guess he's right, you think to yourself as he presses a delicate little kiss to your clit. How could they know, when neither of them pay attention to you. To any of their children, it seems. Your back arches against the couch, hands reaching down to tangle in Chrollo's black hair.

Chrollo eats pussy like a man starved. He eats you out like you're an oasis in a dry desert and he hasn't had a sip of water in years. He buries his head between your thighs, gripping your hips tightly as he licks and sucks you closer and closer to orgasm. You feel like you're losing your mind, tipping so close to insanity. Here you are, engaged in sexual activities with another one of your step brothers. Two out of three. And although you had initiated the one from a couple days ago, this one had been all Chrollo. 

You whimper as you feel your orgasm threatening on the horizon, as you tug gently on Chrollo's soft hair and moan his name tellingly into the empty library. 

“I'm gonna cum.” You whimper, warning him with a few extra tugs to the hair in case he isn't listening. He only doubles his efforts, concentrating his sucking and licking on your clit and tossing you off the cliff of orgasm like a rag doll. You moan loudly as you cun, body tensing and convulsing as you come undone, tugging at his hair. 

It takes you a moment to come back, blinking up at the overhead lights. And when you speak, your voice is hoarse. 

“You can't tell.” You say, voice trembling in the room. You wait for Chrollo to nod, and when he does, then you flee again, pulling your panties up and dashing out of the room leaving Chrollo behind you. 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You straighten your back as you stand a few feet outside of the doors to the exercise room. You know Hisoka is in there. You know he's there because you made sure to triple check with him, and both his brothers. You need to talk to him. Urgently, one might say, because you're kind of having a crisis, and it's surprisingly hard to get him alone to talk. But the crisis. Maybe it has something to do with the incidents that had happened in the last week. You shiver slightly as you remember them, body trembling as it recalls all of it. You shake your head, straighten your shoulders, and march into the gym with your head held high. 

You don't go in here often. You don't like working out, preferring sports to things like gyms and working out. But you know the general layout.

Hisoka is over by the rack of weights. You can see his brilliant hair from all the way across the room, as he does some sort of weight exercise. You move through the room, catching your own reflection out of the corner of your eye in the mirror lining one wall. The room is silent, besides for the sound of your feet on the cold concrete floor, and the muffled music blasting from Hisoka’s headphones. 

He hasn't spotted you yet. As you move closer, you watch his arm muscles bulge, completely put on display by the black tank top he's wearing. You clear your throat, begging your already fried nerves and the arousal beating at your gut to calm down. 

“Hisoka? Can I talk to you?” You say, trying to be audible over the music pounding in his headphones. Hisoka looks up, meeting your eyes in the mirror in his sharp yellow gaze, and then smiles. 

“Ah, Name. I didn't see you there.” He says, placing the weight back in the rack, and pulling his headphones out of his ears. “Come to watch me workout?”

He winks, and you chuckle. He's not wrong, that's what you were doing just then. You shake any traces of arousal out of your face and force a smile.

“Um, I wanted to talk to you about something.” You say, bringing a hand to your mouth. You chew anxiously on your nails, heart pounding a bit too fast. Hisoka’s brow furrows, eyes scanning you up and down. 

“Is something wrong, darling?” He asks, moving closer to you, gently grabbing your hand and lowering it away from your mouth. You almost flinch as his hot fingers touch you, as he gets close enough and all you can see is the beads of sweat lingering on his skin. You want to lick them off, oddly enough. His hand is still holding your wrist. He can probably feel your pulse beating double time. 

“I,” You start, then clear your throat. “Well, this is kind of embarrassing.”

Hisoka raises an eyebrow, hidden behind his bright red hair. His eyes flicker the length of your body again, taking in your pajama shorts and t-shirt you cut into a crop top. You look like a slob, but he'd already seen you when he got home and you figured it would be weird if you showed up wearing something nicer to have this conversation. You didn't even know if he would believe you, or what he would say. You shake your head, begging your face not to flush. 

“Well, recently, i've been trying to get to know Illumi and Chrollo,” You start. Hisoka chuckles.

“Oh how adorable~” He says, patting you gently on your head. He smells of salt and musk and faintly of cologne. “Aren't you just the sweetest.”

You flush, body heating up at the nickname. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“Is your hair natural?” You ask, too embarrassed to keep talking. Hisoka chuckles.

“Yes, doll. The three of us have different mothers.” He says, patting your head gently again. “Now what did you want to say?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter again, voice suddenly caught in your throat. “I'm not sure how to say this.”

Hisoka considers you, trying to peer into your soul through your eyes and figure out what's got you so worried. You almost wish he would. Then the words wouldn't have to pass your lips. He's starting to look almost worried. Or as worried as you've ever seen him look. 

“Why don't you sit down,” he says. You plop down onto the mat below your feet, sitting with your legs crossed on the cushy material. Hisoka sits down opposite you, smiling patiently at you. 

“Have my brothers been bothering you?” He asks, moving forward to smooth the wrinkle between your brows. “You don't deserve to worry your pretty head about those idiots.”

“Oh no, it's my fault too.” You say, shaking your head. Hisoka's hand withdraws, falling back into his lap. You don't know if you want him to touch you more or stand ten feet away. You can't decide which one you want more. 

“Well, I think I've been a bad step sister.” You confide, leaning forward a bit. Hisoka raises an eyebrow,

“Oh why would you think that?” He purrs, reaching forward again to smooth a hand over your shoulder. “If anything, you're too good for undeserving men like us, doll.”

You smile, brushing your hair over your shoulder. The gym is empty besides the two of you. You don't know if anyone else is home. Your mother and her new husband are on some favation. Illumi is 

“I guess. The other boys haven't complained or anything,” You flush, body temperature rising as you remember the things that had happened. “But, I keep doing things that step sisters aren't supposed to do.”

Hisoka’s face goes blank for a moment. He blinks a couple times, and then a smile appears on his face. 

“Whatever are you talking about?” He asks, a fake smile still glued to his face. You flinch, face still flushed. It feels like he already knows what you mean, or has an idea. But he seems like he wants to hear it from your lips. Hear you say all the dirty forbidden things you've gotten up to with his half siblings. You lick your lips and clear your throat. Your hands are trembling in your lap, and you clench them against your pajama shorts, suddenly feeling too naked to be doing this. You don't know why. 

Maybe it's how Hisoka is looking at you. His yellow eyes scan your body, taking in each square inch of bare skin on display for his viewing, or the careful way he holds himself. He looks predatory. You hate how it sends a bolt of heat to your gut. You take a deep breath, steady yourself, and speak.

“We have engaged in some sexual acts.” You whisper into the silence of the gym. Hisoka raises an eyebrow, looking mostly unsurprised. 

His yellow eyes dart down again, scanning your body as if looking for evidence of what you have spoken into existence.

“I'm afraid you're going to need to be more specific, doll.” Hisoka says, voice light and teasing as if the two of you are discussing something as trivial as the weather. You gulp down your spit, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. 

“I have Illumi a blow job. Chrollo ate me out.” You say, keeping your eyes closed. “What am I supposed to do?”

Silence echoes in the gym for a moment. And then Hisoka chuckles. 

“Oh my, what a dilemma you seem to have, doll.” He laughs, the sound echoing in the empty room. You open your eyes, kind of confused.

“You seem surprised.” You say, eyes gliding over Hisoka’s body again before you can yank them up to his eyes. You're already a bit turned on from just talking to him, touching him, being near him. Not to mention thinking too much about the events of the last week. 

“Oh, i figured it out as soon as you mentioned sexual acts.” Hisoka says, doing air quotations around the words ‘sexual acts’. He shoots you a wink as he continues. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Oh,” You say. He seems very casual about this, very unbothered. You pull your lower lip into your mouth, biting it as you watch him smile unnervingly. “Why aren't you angry?”

“Hmm~” Hisoka hums, eyes darting down to your mouth as you let your bottom lip out of your mouth, probably a bit red from the biting. “I wonder.”

It happens so fast. One moment you're sitting upright, watching Hisoka in front of you with apprehension. And then the next moment you're tumbling backwards, the world spinning on its axis. Your back hits the mat with a thump and you grunt. Hisoka looms over you, a feral light hiding in his eyes as he greedily scans you up and down. 

“What?” You say breathlessly, biting back the moan that wants to leak out as you take in Hisoka above you. His hair droops around him in a brilliant red halo. He cages you against the matte softened floor, and you whimper as his thigh finds its way between your legs, pressing up into your pussy. 

“My brothers and I are very different, you know.” Hisoka says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your neck. “But I suppose we are similar in some ways after all.”

He nips at your neck and you whimper, body reflexively straightening against his thigh. Your hands reach up to scrabble at his shoulders. 

“Wait, Hisoka.” You whimper as he breaths hot and heavy on your ear, pressing hickeys on the skin under your ear. “No marks, they’ll see.”

Hisoka laughs huskily. 

“Who doll?” He laughs, pressing his thug against your pussy harder. You whimper, pleasure running a hard line down your spine. You're losing your mind and he hasn't even taken your clothes off. 

“Chrollo” You breathe, the name coming out as more of a moan. “And Illumi.”

“Ah, not those pesky absent parents of ours?” Hisoka says, a chuckle in his voice. “Oh they won't mind. If anything, they’ll take it as a challenge. How would you like that doll?”

You whimper, gripping his muscled shoulders tightly and digging your nails into his back. Hisoka grunts, body pressing you deep into the floor. You're trapped, between the matt covered floor and a body of solid muscle. Hisoka reaches down, using one hand to pull the loose pajama shorts off your body, tossing them somewhere behind him. You whimper as he yanks off your panties too, exposing your poor pussy to the bare air and the mean strokes of his corded thigh. 

“You're so sexy,” You whimper as he drives his muscled thigh into your clit. You feel like you're going to break, just shatter to pieces right there on the gym floor. Hisoka laughs, heavy in your ear. 

“What a slutty step-sister I have.” he breathes, voice deliciously husky. “I wonder. Could you handle all of us at once?”

Your pussy twitches against him, drooling more arousal, leaving sticky trains all over the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Oh god yes,” You whimper, images of it filling your mind. You're too turned on to be mortified as HIsoka laughs, kissing hickeys and bite marks all over your neck. You're losing your mind. It seems your three for three, and all you want to do is to be fucked stupid by your step brothers. 

Hisoka chuckles, pulling away to stare down at you with lust driven yellow eyes, almost glowing behind curtains of red hair. And then he shoves two fingers into your mouth.

“Be a good girl and suck.” He coos, driving his thigh against your pussy in regular thrusts, driving you closer and closer to orgasms. You're gonna cum. Soon, you're so close to losing your mind.

You're sure you look like a mess. Your hair is a messy halo around your head two fingers shoved in your mouth, your body twisting and turning on the mat. Shorts and underwear long discarded, grinding your bare pussy on your step brother's clothed thigh. But you don't even care. Hisoka smiles above you, canines sharp in the lowlight.

“You gonna cum, doll?” he smiles. You nod, sucking his fingers obediently, whining around them as best you can. Hisoka smiles, merciful as an avenging angel above you.

“You've been so good, so I'll let you cum.” You coos, leaning the weight of his body on you as he withdraws his fingers from your mouth. You're about to protest, but you don't get words as he replaces his fingers with his lips, sealing your mouth in a kiss as you fall off the edge.

Your body convulses as you cum, grinding down on his thigh until you can't anymore, until you're screaming from oversensitivity and you yank yourself away from his thigh, trembling. Hisoka eats every moan and scream, muffling it with his tongue and his lips. Until finally, he pulls away with a little chuckle.

“Done already?” He coos, wiping the tears and spit from your face with a laugh. “I was just going to call the others.”

...

Endnotes: i hope you guys enjoyed this kinktober ride as much as i did lol. This ones a bit long but i figured we’d better go out with a bang~

[holyprincenerd]

yes yes rigged this cha cha that but please let’s not ignore this right now:

https://www.aftonbladet.se/podcasts/ab/episode/355975 Swedish “eurovision expert” Tobbe Ek (for those of you who aren’t Swedish, this is the same guy who accused Måneskin of doing coke on live tv back in 2021) and his posse of minions decided that it was time to spread some absolutely hateful rhetoric against the people of Finland by calling them shitty, idiotic, telling them they should be ashamed of not voting for Sweden (??? literally what???) etc etc, while also dragging in other contestants like Lord of the Lost and insulting them as a means of questioning why the Finnish public voted for them but not for Sweden. (You know. Because it totally doesn’t make any sense at all that a country known for having the most metal bands per capita in the world would vote for Lord of the Lost. Not at all.) 

As the cherry on top of this xenophobic shit cake, they started to go on about how “There’s no way there were ten contestants who were better than Sweden this year.” (Again. Not only disrespecting the other contestants, but them pretending not to grasp the concept of a country known for preferring heavier music choosing to vote mostly for bands this year... Yeah... Couldn’t be their preferences...)

Again, this man is considered a Eurovision expert here in Sweden, yet this is the type of behaviour he and his coworkers display over a nonissue like the Finnish public not voting for Sweden this year. If there’s something shameful here, it’s this.

To reiterate: These are three grown-ass well past 40-year old people having a genuine meltdown over one (1) singular country not voting for them.

Why are we giving Tobbe Ek (and his irrelevant coworkers) a platform, again?

EDIT:

Hoo boy, there’s more. Because of course there is.

ALRIGHT here’s an article from one of our tabloids using quite suspiciously colonialistic sounding rhetoric about Finland being “the kingdom’s previous eastern half”.

https://www.expressen.se/noje/finska-sveket-mot-sverige-gav-noll-poang-efter-uppmaningen-rosta-taktiskt/

The specific quote in Swedish: “Tv-tittarna i tidigare östra rikshalvan gav nämligen Sverige noll(!) poäng under Eurovisionfinalen på lördagen.”

Translation: “TV viewers in [our] kingdom’s previous eastern half gave namely zero(!) points to Sweden during the Eurovision finale on Saturday.”

Yeah, Johan Bratell (the writer of the article) is technically not wrong about Finland having been a part of Sweden. But why bring this up now? This was so clearly meant as a condescending insult.

The article also talks about a throwaway comment that the Finnish commentator Mikko Silvennoinen made about tactical voting (or more specifically, an anonymous comment he read out loud about tactical voting). From my understanding this was a joke reference to the previous elections which took place recently in Finland and forced a portion of the Finnish public to vote tactically as an attempt to block a far-right party from getting into the parliament. It’s embarrassing how much these people are reaching.

And even if they were voting tactically, so what? Sweden won. Why are we so focused on the public vote of one (1) country, Jesus Christ this is embarrassing.

EDIT 2: WHY THIS MATTERS. A LOT.

For those of you who are not in the know about Swedish politics, these statements are reflecting some far-right political views that have their roots all the way back in the times when Sweden ruled over Finland. In recent memory, our far-right political party Sverigedemokraterna claimed that the Swedish minority group Tornedalians are not Swedish, because they may speak local dialects that blend Finnish into Swedish, or speak the minority language Meänkieli. Coincidentally, Meänkieli just so happens to be a minority language that blends Finnish and Swedish, as it is mostly spoken by people who live by the Torneå river, i.e. the Finnish-Swedish border. Here’s an article about this controversy (however you may not be able to read it unless you’re subscribed to said newspaper): https://www.dn.se/asikt/orimligt-att-tornedalingar-inte-skulle-vara-svenskar/?fbclid=IwAR33K_UVRhXlJhyPd3gY7GDXN_lotUdrtM1AeL-nRzWE26Tmq5BFE0lIUzw

Sverigedemokraterna also believe that the Swedish minority group of Sweden Finns should essentially cut their ties to their Finnish roots and that they should not be able to be citizens of both Finland and Sweden. https://aip.nu/sverigedemokraterna-och-de-dubbla-medborgarskapen/

This sort of rhetoric is ridiculously common here, and in situations like the ones that have occurred in light of the ESC, they almost never get called out. Because it’s common. Because it’s okay to call Finnish people names and to use colonial rhetoric against all Finns, both those who live in Finland and those who live in Sweden. Because this is “friendly banter.” Mind you, as someone who technically belongs to both of the aforementioned minority groups I’m completely fine with the actually friendly banter and piss taking that we usually partake in, because it is just that. Friendly. But this is not it. This is actually harmful. I have never seen so many Swedish people attacking Finns on social media as I’ve seen these past few days. The usual colonialistic and fennophobic insults have started to rear their ugly heads: People have started to insult the Finnish language (a fennophobic sentiment that goes way back to the days when Finland was under Swedish rule and the Swedish tried to get rid of the language), they have started to insult the way Finns look (goes back to fennophobic rhetoric of Finns essentially not being “white enough”), etcetera. For more information on how the Swedish government treated the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians (the fact that they tried to abolish both the Meänkieli language and the Finnish language from Sweden and have even done skull measurements as an attempt to prove that these minority groups are not equal to Swedes), here’s another article: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/norrbotten/regeringen-tillsatter-sanningskommission

For those of you who speak Finnish and are interested in the topic, the book Kansankodin pimeämpi puoli by Tapio Tamminen goes into both issues, with photographic evidence of skull measurement incidents among other things. Meanwhile, the Finnish media is mostly just reporting on the tomfoolery of these “journalists.” Sure, there are a lot of Finns who are acting out as well and spreading hateful rhetoric against Swedes, but the difference here is that one group is punching up, while the other is punching down.

Whether Tobbe Ek, Jenny Ågren, Markus Larsson and Johan Bratell meant to cause this does not matter. They’ve still done it, in the case of the former group, they’ve even dragged other Europeans (and Australians!) into this mess.

They’ve gone ahead and spread fennophobic rhetoric on huge platforms: Sweden’s biggest national tabloids. They should be held accountable for this.

To reiterate: ALL THIS OVER THE FINNISH PUBLIC “NOT VOTING FOR SWEDEN” DURING THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST OF 2023.

Edit 3: Just in case we need a bit of clarification:

I know this whole post may come across quite negatively. So let me make this clear: There is an issue with the Swedish culture and its normalisation of fennophobia, however, that doesn’t mean every Swede is maliciously fennophobic. It’s literally just so normalised here, that sometimes people don’t even notice when they’re partaking in it, and because of said normalisation, for many these fennophobic and colonialist insults have become a sort of knee jerk reaction to when there’s “actual beef” with Finland. (Which, obviously, is a fucking problem, because look who has to bear the brunt of that.) 

Moreover, many Swedes aren’t even familiar with their shared history with Finland, and the discrimination Finland was put through during the Swedish rule (not to mention the discrimination the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians have had to face and still face). That part of our shared history simply isn’t taught in schools here, so a regular person would have to know to go out and look for the information. Heck, the only reason I’m aware of this is because at the end of the day, despite having been born and raised in Sweden, I am ethnically Finnish, and grew up by the border with very strong ties to the Finnish culture because of it. But less about me, and more about this issue. Most Swedes (and Swedish journalists who have any sort of sense in them and who work for respectable publications) have expressed their dissatisfaction with this years results as well. There’s a reason Cha Cha Cha is charting so well on Swedish Spotify. There’s a reason for why the Swedish jury and the public gave Finland 12 points.

So, Tl;dr:

1. Swedish tabloids are trash.

2. We have an undeniable problem with how normalised fennophobia is here, and it’s absolutely bizarre that this is how it’s getting exposed.

3. Most regular Swedes aren’t happy with this either, and are in fact not Finland’s and the Finnish people’s greatest haters in the world.

4. Tobbe Ek should get fired. At the bare minimun, he and his coworkers should probably issue some sort of apology for spreading this, seeing how it is actually hurting a lot of people.

Anyway, please don’t hate on the Swedes because of this lol, think about what Jere from Vantaa would think about that. 💚

[physalian]

In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)

Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.

Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.

Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:

It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints

It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you

It lets you write way outside your comfort zone

When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence

It's incredibly flexible

It’s practice. All practice is good practice

—

Behold your creative box

When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?

Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it’s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.

The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.

Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.

Pre-packaged worldbuilding

Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.

I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.

Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.

Stretch beyond your comfort zone!

Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.

But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.

And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.

Build that self-confidence!

The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.

Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.

I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.

Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).

Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature

On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.

There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.

All practice is good practice

Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.

Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.

The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.

—

In short, I support fanfic. I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.

[emeraldvanfleet]

Hi all, I know it's been a while and this thing has been gathering dust in my docs for way too long but I finally found the time to edit and post it so here we go.

Thanks to @scarletvanfleet for helping beta read, tag, and pushing me to actually post this. Love you!

Summary: you and Jake recently confessed to each other that you're both into the idea of hate fucking. After setting up some rules the day has finally come where you get to bait the everliving shit out of him, and he gets to fuck you like he hates you.

Tags: Hate fuck, aggression, aggressive behavior, Dom/sub dynamics, teasing, baiting, spanking, choking, play fighting/kind of CNC, fingering (vaginal and anal f receiving), spitting, spit as lube, biting, bondage, restraints, pet names, blood kink (slight), nipple play, tit slapping, bdsm, pain kink, name calling, oral sex, fingering, scratching, slapping, vaginal (p in v) sex, dacryphilia (kind of) ,degradation, cum swapping, creampie, daddy kink (slight), aftercare.

Word count: 3.9K

Don't like don't read, minors DNI.

You had been bratty to Jake all day. Mouthing off at every opportunity, pestering him while he was trying to finish some work, and just generally annoying the ever loving shit out of him.

It wasn't something you did often, you usually let him be while he was busy but there was a motive behind your actions today.

You needed Jake to be mad. Not genuinely, not angry enough to start an actual fight. Just pissed off enough to give you a good hate fuck.

You had recently confessed to him that this was something that you were into. It had started out as a throwaway line, blurted out in the heat of the moment. You had yelled out that you wanted him to fuck you like he hated you and that had clearly lit a spark in him. Ever since that night he had hinted at it over and over until eventually you sat him down and discussed some rules.

Long story short, you would get free reign to pester him all day and he would be allowed to truly fuck you like he hated you. And so it started. By the end of the day you could practically feel Jake's blood boiling every time he looked at you and you simply smiled back.

The final straw comes when you teasingly run a hand across his shoulders as he stands hunched over his desk, desperately trying to focus on the computer screen in front of him in order to finish up what he is working on for the day.

“You’re so tense Jakey, why is that?” you laugh as your fingers lightly trace over his shoulder blades.

He doesn’t reply, but you can feel his muscles tense ever so slightly more. Discontent with the lack of attention you are receiving, you let your hand drop from his shoulders. Jake starts to let out a sigh, glad that you have seemingly given up on your torment, but before he can even finish his exhale your hand makes contact with his left asscheek. Hard.

He lets out a growl and spins around, grabbing you by the neck and pushing you against the nearest wall. His breath hits your face hot and heavy as he uses his free hand to pull down your pants. It’s clear he’s not playing anymore as he bites out "You think you're being funny huh? Well let's see how funny you think this is.”

His hand around your throat isn’t exactly cutting off your oxygen yet, but it makes escape nearly impossible. Not that you’re really trying. The pawing at his shoulders is all part of the performance. Your pants hang around your knees but your movements only make it look like you’re struggling against him. In reality they are ensuring that your clothes slip even further down your legs, making it easier to step out of them in a moment's notice.

His face twists from anger into a devilish smile as he plunges two fingers inside of you and feels how absolutely soaked you are.

"Oh… so you wanted this huh, you fucking slut" he grunts out as you soak the fingers working in and out of you. The stretch should have been slightly uncomfortable but you’re used to taking much more from him.

His grip on your throat tightens as he fingers you. Your breaths become labored and your skin prickles from the lack of oxygen. His eyes are ravenous but he's not using you hard enough yet so you smile back before you spit in his face.

There is a flash of shock that crosses his features. A moment of hesitation before the demonic smile returns to his lips. The fingers that were inside you just seconds ago come up to his face to wipe the spit off of his cheek. He looks down at his hand for a moment. He huffs out a laugh at the two types of fluids coating his fingers before adding his own glob of spit to them and shoving them back inside your leaking cunt.

You let out a gasp as his fingers enter you again. You feel so good and full as his fingers lightly spread inside of you that you nearly forget why you were even being an ass to him all day.

Jake reminds you as he takes the opportunity of your gasping lips to force his tongue into your mouth. The kiss is frantic and sloppy, you’re both fighting for dominance and when he presses his fingers into your g-spot he forces a moan out of you. You can feel him smiling against your lips, counting the sound as a victory. You bite his tongue in retaliation, making him let out a hiss and releasing your lips for a moment.

"You're not gonna behave are you?" He says, his lips fractions of an inch from yours. Even though he's got you by the throat you still lunge to bite at his lip. He moves back just in time and lets out a laugh. His grip on your neck tightened momentarily, more to hold you in place than to cut off your airflow but the result is the same nonetheless.

"Good, I wouldn't want you to. Makes it more fun to break you when you're like this”

You fight him all the way to the bedroom but he's strong and he knows just how to overpower you. He's trained himself to find your weak spots and use them to his advantage.He throws you down on the bed and quickly straddles you, ensuring you have no way to escape. You’re cursing and spitting at him as he ties your hands together and pulls them up over your head, securing them to the bed frame, making sure you can't escape. You try to kick him but he simply pins your legs underneath his own.

"I love it when you fight back." He smiles.

His words rile you up even more but he just looks at you as you thrash against your restraints. He's fully sitting on your legs now and the way he bobs up and down under your movements is almost comical. You hiss as you feel the restraints digging into your wrists when you give them an especially hard tug. He notices too and simply tuts at you.

"Ah ah ah, hurting you is my job puppy. Where's the fun in it for me if you're doing it all by yourself?"

He bends down, hovering his torso above yours, his hair falls like a curtain over both of your faces and his lips ghost across your own as he whispers "Do you want me to hurt you puppy? Is that what all this is about?"

You’re panting from fighting your restraints but he hasn't broken you yet. Not by a long shot. His lips are so close to yours and in a perfectly timed lunge you manage to capture his bottom lip in between your own and bite down.

The taste of iron fills your mouth and you grin, knowing that you’ve made him bleed first. He inhales sharply at the sensation but he doesn't retreat. Instead he deepens the violent kiss, making sure to spread his blood all over your mouth. Soon he is all you can taste.

As his tongue glides across your teeth you feel his hand caressing up your side. His hand cups your chest and his thumb swipes across your nipple softly, just once.

Then a sudden shock of pain makes you suck in a breath, releasing his mouth and gasping at the sensation. His thumb and forefinger have closed around your nipple and are pinching it hard. He sits back up and his grin is devilish, teeth and lips stained a dark crimson. He is beautiful and for a second all the fight leaves your body and you just marvel in the image of him above you. But then he releases your nipple and uses that same hand so slap your tit and all of the stubbornness returns at once

"You're such a little slut for pain aren't you puppy?" He laughs as he slaps your tit again. The sting heats up your chest and the feeling of his fingers against your skin linger long after he's moved away again.

"Don't forget to fight back..." he smiles, noticing how your body has gone slack after the hits.

you buck your hips up, trying to shake him off but he just laughs and scoots down your thighs.

"Oh, is this where you want me to hurt you next?” he grins, running his hand down from your chest, across the warm skin of your stomach down to the crook of your hip, and coming to rest just over your mound. “You want me to ruin your pretty little pussy for you? Well don't worry darling I'm more than happy to oblige…”

He moves faster than lightning. Before you can even realize what's happening he's gotten off of you and pinned your legs open and up against your chest. You’re completely exposed and he now has a clear view of your sopping wet cunt.

He lets out a laugh when he sees the slick dripping down your legs. Your clit is swollen and your pussy lips are red and puffy with excitement.

"Would you look at that. My little whore, so wet from getting slapped around a bit. Such a pathetic little slut." He's mocking you but for some reason your face flushes bright red and you can actually feel your pussy starting to drip more.

Without warning he drops his head down low and bites the inside of your thigh. You let out a gasp that quickly turns into a moan as you feel his tongue tracing the indentations his teeth left behind. He leaves a trail of bite marks from the backside of your knee all the way to the inside of your hip. His face is so close to your slit but right when you think he might run his tongue across you and finally add some pleasure to the pain he's provided, you feel two fingers spreading you open. The sudden intrusion startles you and the sensation of being so full again so fast is almost too much. You start to protest but your words die halfway down your throat as you feel him curl his fingers and instantly find your g-spot once again. It's a cacophony of sensations, the slight burn of the stretch combined with the pleasure of him pressing down on the bundle of nerves. His fingers scissor you open and right when you’re starting to get used to the sensation of being filled he pulls them out. You whine at the emptiness left behind and he chuckles.

"Such a needy little puppy. Even when you're way too full you still want more.”

You let out another whine but your desperation is quickly met by his lips wrapping themselves around your clit. His tongue swirls the nub a few times before he starts suckling on it, almost like he's nursing. You get lost in the pleasure for a moment before your senses get assaulted once again by three of his fingers plunging back into you. The stretch is almost too much but you can hardly focus on the pain with the way he's lapping at your clit. His tongue is pointed and flicking it back and forth like it's a toy to him. His teeth graze lightly across your hood every so often and when he goes back to suck the entirety of it into his mouth you can't help but think how grateful you are that he can't see your face from his position cause you know you must look like a desperate whore.

His fingers are pistoning in and out of you and you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening with every stroke. It's so much. You can feel every groove of his fingers against yours, the texture of his fingertips sliding into you. He's pressing into your g-spot with all three fingers at once. Your skin feels like static as his free hand moves up to your stomach and he rakes his nails down your skin. You try to warn him of your rapidly approaching orgasm but when he digs his nails into your hips you lose all ability to speak.

Your orgasm crashes through you and you can't help but squirt all over his face. He presses his fingers into you as deeply as possible as he feels your release land on his tongue and you can feel the vibrations of his moan against your clit as he laps up as much of your cum as he can get. No matter what position he was in, no matter who had the dominant hand during your love making, Jake would never give up on the opportunity to drink down your cum.

When he comes up for air the lower half of his face and some strands of his hair are soaked. His lip is still bleeding from where you bit him and the blood and cum mix on his chin and steadily trickle onto his chest. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and you can see a snarl playing around his lips.

"Did I tell you you were allowed to cum, whore?" He bites out as he slaps you across the face with the hand he just used to finger you to your release. You gasp at the sting. You prepare to start up your string of curses once more but your mouth is quickly filled with the fingers that were just inside of your pussy.

"Clean" is all he says but the fight you had abandoned in favor of your orgasm returns once more. You lick the taste of yourself off of him for a moment before biting down on his digits. You’re not out for blood this time, you’re just aiming to rile him up even further. And your plan seems to work as he growls at the pain and quickly retracts his fingers from your mouth.

"Oh you're getting it now you little cunt" he snaps as his hand strikes your face and each of your tits once more. You don't have time to recover from the sting as he grabs you and twists you around so that you’re now on your elbows and knees.

"I knew you liked pain but I didn't know you had a fucking death wish" he spits as his hand hits your ass hard.

His knees press yours apart and one of his hands comes up to your head and pushes your face into the pillow.

"You're gonna stay down and you're gonna take me like the whore that you are, got it?" He snarls out but any reply you would give is muffled by the pillow case against your mouth.

You can feel his cock enter you fully in one long stroke. Despite the stretch that his fingers provided he still fills you up more than anything else. You clench around him as you feel your hips connect and the tip of his dick slides all the way up to your cervix. He groans as your walls squeeze him from all sides and you feel another slap sting across the skin of your ass.

"You're gonna be the perfect little hole for me puppy. Any more attitude out of you and I'll make sure you won't be able to sit for the rest of the week."

You moan into the pillow and clench once more. Another hit lands on your cheek and you can hear him groan.

"Fine, have it your way, whore"

When he finally starts moving inside of you the speed with which he pumps into you is frantic. It's clear he's abandoned all concern for your comfort and he's just plowing you like you’re his personal sex toy.

The thought almost makes you cum again.

He's fucking you so hard and deep you know he has to be bruising your cervix. you can feel him hit it on nearly every stroke and after a while you’re crying into the pillow but he's not letting up. You try to clench around him again but the strength is rapidly leaving your body. He still registers the effort however and another slap cracks across your ass. Your knees buckle at this point but Jake is unrelenting. He presses his torso against yours as he fucks you into the mattress.

"That's what I thought, little whore. You submit to me. You can pretend to fight me as much as you want but we both know that at the end of the night you're nothing but a set of holes for me to use as I want. Now, be a good little cum dump and take my load. It's what your holes were made for after all. Wouldn't want to deny a whore its purpose.”

You let out a cry at his words, another orgasm shaking its way through you at the thought of him filling you like this. Jake simply sighs "such disobedience. We really need to train you better. Maybe this will teach you to behave." You expected another slap somewhere on your body but instead he pulls out of your pussy and temporarily replaces his cock with his fingers again. You whine and cry out, begging him to put his cock back in and cum inside you but he simply smacks your ass again and tells you to be patient.

After a second he pulls his fingers out again, they're soaked in your own slick and cum and for a moment you think he's going to shove them in your mouth. But then as he plunges his cock back into your pussy you can feel one of his slick soaked finger press against your ass. You whine and use what little energy you have left to thrash against the bed but it's no use. He's fully overpowered you and you’re simply a set of holes for him to ruin.

The slow intrusion of his fingers in your ass combined with the neck breaking speed of his cock plowing into your pussy is enough to finally break you. You have no energy left to fight him. All of your muscles relax and you slump deeper into the mattress as you cry into the pillow, the continuous onslaught on your holes too much to bear. you can hear Jake chuckle behind you as your fading resistance makes it easier for his finger to slip into you.

"Now that's a good puppy. I knew you'd behave in the end"

You want to buck your hips and fight back but all you can do is whimper into the pillow as you can feel his rhythm starting to stutter. He's railing your pussy like his life depends on it and his movements are becoming sloppy. You let out a sob as he pulls his finger out of your ass and with a final thrust slams into your cervix once more. He releases his cum deep into your womb, fucking it in deep before pulling out and flipping you over.

He looks you over for a moment, a pleased look on his face as he beholds your tear streaked cheeks and the red marks he's left behind on your tits, tummy, and thighs. His eyes roam across your body, finally coming to land on your abused pussy, a stream of his cum and your slick steadily trickling out.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as you can see an idea pop into his head. You don't have the energy left to protest or even comment as he folds your legs up to your chest, lifting your butt off of the mattress and giving him ample access to your cunt.

He blows some cold air onto your puffy pussy lips and you let out a pathetic whine in response, the tiny noise a testament to the fact that he's fully broken you.

He runs the flat of his tongue all the way from your taint to your mouth in one long stroke, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

His hands which were resting on the back of your thighs, keeping your legs in place now come up to your core. He knows you're not gonna fight him now, he doesn't need to restrain you anymore. Instead his thumbs part your folds, exposing your stretched out hole to the open air. He admires the way his cum leaks out of you for a moment before his pointed tongue plunges into you.

You let out another sob at the intrusion, the overstimulation is becoming too much but he keeps fucking his tongue in and out of your hole. It almost feels like he's digging his own cum out of you, gathering it in his mouth along with your slick.

Once he's satisfied with the amount he's managed to lick out he drops your waist back to the mattress and straddles you once more.

His strong hand holds your face still as he forcefully pushes your lips together. The tongue that just seconds ago was digging into your pussy now swipes at your lips and your mind is so far gone that you just automatically open your mouth to him.

As soon as you do his tongue is in your mouth, pushing his cum onto your tongue, forcing you to take his load for the second time.

You can't help but let out a moan as the taste hits your tongue. The combination of the two of you together has always been your favorite flavor and to taste it like this is divine. The force in his kiss dissipates as you swap his cum back and forth. The violence in his touch melts into the comfort you're used to as your tongues slide together and you each end up swallowing about half of his load.

Your heaving breaths synchronize and slowly even out as you both come down from your highs. All the while Jake is pressing soft little kisses along the skin of your shoulder and neck

His clean hand comes up to undo your restraints and softly wipe the tears from your face.

"Are you alright my love?" He mutters into your skin as his hands massage your wrists.

"Yes daddy, never been better." You sigh out contentedly and you eagerly return the soft kiss he presses to your lips.

"God…We should have done this way sooner." He chuckles as his softening cock slides out of you and he wraps you up in a warm and comfortable hug.

"Hmm yeah daddy, do you like it when I annoy the shit out of you?" You reply with a laugh.

“Only ‘cause I know how much you get off on being beaten into submission afterwards my little slut.” He responds, pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose.

"You're so hot when you're angry."

You both let out a laugh and nuzzle close. Reveling in each other's skin for a moment longer before he goes to run a bath for you. You’re nearly asleep when he comes back to get you and as soon as you’re settled in the warm water together and you can feel his strong hands wash you, you rest back against his chest and allow yourself to drift off in the arms of the one you love

The end

[felinecryptid]

hhhhmmmm today's episode was interesting

things i noted

- alice still treats FR3_D1 as freddy and humanises them

- colin distrusts all and every bit of technology as he should, considering computers and tech in general are insanely invasive and also the narrative he is in

- sam is... non confrontational which is another word for easy victim rather than being avatar behaviour, don't worry sam character arc is coming your way

- gwen... is invited to a party( ???)

things i noted in the statement

- there's an apollo and daphne thing going on (many people have already noticed this)

- the person was a doctor idk why its important but it feels important; corruption and flesh relating to the statement and also doctors in general (also im using tma classification to convey a point, i believe tmagp doesn't follow the same rules)

- the discarded phalanges (i think they will come up later??? it was such a throwaway line but it was good and unusually weird, yk like in older 2d animation you can tell what objects the characters are going to interact with? those phalanges had the same saturated vibes)

- something about watching yourself turn monstrous read by martin norris and fearing about being alone but then ultimately comforted that your partner won't leave you even when youve lost everything that made you you

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Why Good Doggies Are Also Bad Doggies

(And What That Means For MyHouse.wad)

There are two dogs in MyHouse.wad. One's a sweet, harmless puppy, and the other's a relentless, deadly hellhound. Both of these dogs reside in what's commonly known as the Brutalist house, a vast concrete structure that shifts in size from small to large as you explore it.

The smaller dog, quite naturally, provides little in the way of an obstacle, and indeed its presence is surprisingly uplifting in such a bleak, sad game. It's the big, two-headed brute, the "Bad Doggy", that aims to prevent your progres; it's swift, deals a lot of damage, and takes a lot of firepower to subdue. It rules the space it resides in with an iron jaw, and will not take no for an answer. Your only options are to avoid it, or to kill it.

But there's a catch - kill the Bad Doggy, and the Good Doggy also dies. And while this does open up a loophole to allow you to deal with the Bad Doggy with no risk - killing the Good Doggy yourself - the fact remains that an innocent creature's life has to end for your journey to become easier.

Of course, you know this, and likely opted to "spare" the Bad Doggy so that the Good Doggy could join you on the beach at the end. And yes, the sight of our canine friend napping by the waves does help to complete the sense of a "good" ending - or at least, a "peaceful" one.

But... have you ever stopped to consider what this actually means? How, rather than being a throwaway device to make you feel sad, or a lazy reference to Tom's fear of dogs, this "Good Doggy"/"Bad Doggy" actually serves to reinforce the core message of MyHouse.wad?

Consider these dogs again... or rather, consider this dog. Singular.

There is one dog in MyHouse.wad. Sometimes it is a Good Doggy, playful and diligent and affirming to our wellbeing. Other times, it is a Bad Doggy, aggressive and domineering and striking fear into our hearts. Kill one, the other dies. You cannot separate the two. Where the Good Doggy goes, the Bad Doggy must inevitably follow.

How do you stop a Bad Doggy from being a Bad Doggy? You can't, not entirely. A Bad Doggy is bad only in the context of its owner's view of it. A doggy that shreds the furniture, is overly-aggressive in its interactions with its owners, jealously guards spaces and important objects, is deemed bad because of its actions. When it exhibits behaviours that are more paletable to the humans that care for it, it becomes a Good Doggy.

As a child, Tom was scared of his family's pet dog. Viewed through the lens of a terrified young boy, a dog that might be only the most loving and attentive creature, excited to play with someone similar to it in size, may appear vicious and unrelenting, causing fear and injury with its exuberent actions and disregard for its own strength. These experiences, whatever form they might have taken, left a visceral impact on Tom, as we see in his sketchbook containing the multiple-headed hellhound.

What happened to that dog? Was it ever rehabilitated? Did its status as a Good Doggy outweigh the trauma it potentially inflicted upon Tom's psyche? Or... did something else happen to it? Were its actions deemed too harmful, too Bad, to continue living with its owners?

We can only speculate on these points, but they do serve to provide an answer to the above question on how to stop Bad Doggies - you get rid of them. Give them away, abandon them, put them to sleep. Problem solved. But that doesn't just remove the Bad Doggy from the picture - it also eliminiates the Good Doggy that can provide comfort and companionship, as well as any potential future joy that same doggy could bring to its owners.

Which brings us back to the beach, and our Good Doggy having a nice nap there. Of course, I'm sure you've realised, it's also the Bad Doggy.

But what exactly does that mean for our "perfect", "happy", "peaceful" ending? Are we going to be savaged on the beach the moment we let our guard down, having fought so hard for the happiness we were so desparate to recover? Of ocurse not. But consider what its potential presence means for the future.

The Good and Bad Doggy are inexorably linked. To have the potential for joy and companionship and love, you must also accept the possibility of pain, conflict and loss. For better or worse, the bad has to come with the good - either you have both, or you have nothing at all. That's why there's no dog at the fake beach - that ending represents attempting to escape bad things altogether, but the world that results is unsatisfying and devoid of meaning. The reason things hurt so much is precisely because of the joy that came before it. Denying pain and sorrow is no better than giving up on life.

To live a meaningful life, we sometimes have to accept people as they come, warts and all.

Happiness, as Steve opines at the end of his journal, has to be fought for. But the fight doesn't stop just because you won once. Having resolved to come to terms with the world as it is, the world where your dearest friend has died, you therefore choose to re-enact that battle every single day. Some days it's easier. Some days, it's torture. That's what being alive is all about. That's what makes the moments of peace, the moments when Good Doggies really are Good Doggies and nothing more, all worth it in the end.

Thank you for reading :)