#tw pseudo-incest

[shockinglysubmissive]

The Video

Shigaraki needed some porn, and Dabi was willing to provide it, at a cost of course.

Warning: pseudo-incest (video of sibling), masturbation, degradation, unprotected sex, humiliation

Solo Shigaraki and Dabi x Karuna (OC)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @dabislittlebeaniebaby @daniidil @dabislittlemouse

Being a villain means having to go deep into the shadows. That means, no internet for months at a time.

"Come on Dabi. You brag about all the sexy videos the mystery girl sends you. Share. I need something good to beat my cock to." Shigaraki practically whines, gloved hands reaching for Dabi's phone.

"Fine. But I'm warning you. You will regret this in the end." The devious smirk on Dabi's face doesn't deter the scrawny man. Scrolling through an album of photos and videos, he finally selects his favorite. It was the longest one in the collection. "I'll show it on one condition. You aren't allowed to cum until..." His finger drag across the screen, zooming through the video. "25 minutes 46 seconds."

"Whatever. Just give me it!" Shigaraki wets his lips with his tongue, hungrily waiting for the video.

"I'm not showing you until you swear. And trust me, I'll know of you lied to me." Dabi says firmly, holding the phone away from his boss.

"Fine fine. I promise. Now give me." He snatches the phone and runs off to his room. Moving so quickly, he didn't notice Dabi appearing amused, which would have given him his first clue to be concerned.

The preview of the video shows a stomach bulging out due to Dabi's cock buried deep inside them. Unable to wait any longer, he presses play, the video loading and suddenly spread legs fill the screen.

Black lace panties cling to a torturously wet pussy. "Go on. Told ya, bitch. You're not getting my cock today unless I get to film ya. Make it entertaining. You owe me for being a fucking brat." Dabi's voice growls from behind the camera. Eerily familiar manicured hands creep into the frame and slide the sticky panties off.

Shigaraki fights to take his belt and pants off with one hand, the other tightly gripping the phone, not wanting to miss a second of the twitching pussy showing on the screen. Growing frustrated with how long it is taking, he raises a gloved hand to his mouth, biting a finger to remove his hand from inside. With his lower clothing now nothing more than dust, he grips the base of his cock.

Turning his attention fully to the video, a grin spreads across his face as a dildo, too large for her tight hole, appears. Broken sobs, not even close to forming words fill his ears as inch by inch, the toy is sucked into her needy cunt. Only half of the toy was filling her, but babbles of "too much" and "gonna cum" are repeated over and over again.

"That thing is no bigger than me. Come on. You can take more." Shifting into frame slightly, a fully clothed Dabi leans over, gripping the suction cupped end of the toy, twisting and pumping it slowly. Heavenly whines, and desperate pleas to cum fall on Dabi's deaf ears. Ending his slow torture, he gives the toy one sharp thrust before burying it deep inside her. "Don't you dare fucking cum. I'll fucking cover your entire body with scorching hot cum if you even think about it. Now entertain me."

Shigaraki's eyes focus on the way her body tries to push the toy out, Dabi backing away to leave the frame again. Timing the jerk of his wrist with the shaky thrusts of the toy, he already feels himself nearing his release. Not wanting this to end, his fingers wrap tightly around his base. Feeling safe to release himself, he moves his hand down to roll his heavy balls.

His fingers massage his balls while the video plays, broken sobs ringing in his ears as she loses track of how long she's been fucking herself without release. Her legs started shaking minutes ago, and sweat glistened on her body before Dabi gave in.

"You want to cum bitch? Yeah, bet you do. But your only allowed to cum on my cock. So drop the toy." The sound of his belt being tossed aside is the only sound as her shaking hands toss the toy next to her on the bed, showing her puffy lips and clenching pussy. 

The camera moves, showing her full body, minus the fucked out face Shigaraki was desperate to see. Heavy breast bounce with each panting breath as Dabi settles himself between her legs. To his slight disbelief, Dabi hadn't been lying when he said the toy was about the same size as him. The biggest difference between the two were the lines of metal balls on each side of his shaft where his piercings were. 

The manicured hands trail gently over her chest, swirling mesmerizingly around the pert nipples. Shigaraki's mouth waters as he imaged how soft the skin would feel between his teeth, how pretty her pale skin would look with his teeth marks scattered around it. 

On the lower part of the video, the head of Dabi's cock disappears, a groan leaving his lips at what Shigaraki could only imagine was the softest walls pulling him deeper. A scarred hand grips one of her plush thighs as he bullies himself deeper, until every inch is nestled deep inside her. Judging by the way she squirms, the tip was pushing painfully against her cervix. 

"This must be where the thumbnail of the video came from…" Shigaraki thinks out loud, seeing the familiar stomach bulging once again. 

"I can feel you spasming. Don't fucking cum. You only cum when my seed is in your womb." Dabi growls, the hand previously on her thigh now gently smacking her clit. He gives no time for a response before fucking her the way her messy hole deserves. 

Covering the part of the video where Dabi was visible, Shigaraki fisted his cock in time with the wet slaps of skin, imagining he was the one causing the girl to fall apart and beg. He wanted to be the one who she was begging to fill with cum, not the burnt villain currently in that spot. He was getting dangerously close to the edge again, checking the time. 25 minutes 2 seconds. Just a bit longer and he will be able to cum. 

Dabi's thrusts became sloppy and rushed, the perfect cunt below him too irresistible to not breed. Smoke rises from his fingers, which had found their way back to her thighs. Shigaraki ignores the deep grunts as Dabi cums, choosing to focus on the soft whimpers as the girl realizes she's going to be allowed to cum now. 

The smoking fingers press against her clit, slowly teasing it just enough to push her over the edge. 25 minutes 43 seconds. Shigaraki pumps his cock faster hearing her riding out her high, coating his hand with his own cum. The camera pans up to the fucked out face of Karuna. Her black and blue hair fanned out on the pillow behind her head. 

A disgusted wail leaves his lips as he throws the phone to the foot of his bed. From behind the door, a deep laugh can be heard. Dabi walks in an grabs his phone from the bottom of the bed. 

"Thanks for that boss. Been needing a good laugh for a while. Now, I'm gonna go show this to your sister while I make her beg for my cock again." Waving the phone, Shigaraki finally notices the small red light indicating he had been filming himself the entire time. 

"Have any videos of her sucking dick? With all the shit she talks, bet you've fucked her face a few times. She look good covered in your cum?" Shigaraki asks. 

"You're a real pervert, boss. I'll send you the pictures later." Dabi winks before leaving the room to make Karuna deal with the throbbing erection he's been sporting since Shigaraki took his phone. 

[gladiatorcunt]

- DIRT IN CHAINS | X.

i can’t wait for the nights with you, i imagine the things we’ll do

cw: kinktober prompt (feet), semi crack treated seriously (he just comes back and says footjob. now.), pseudo incest (step brother & step sister), no shelly or chris 💀, set in the 90’s with brandon lee’s eric, small-ish age gap (reader’s in her early 20’s), fem ballerina!reader, random kurt cobain crush mention, implied inappropriate behavior when reader was 18 and after (nothing explicit but it could be seen as done with certain intent), attempted non con mention (not involving eric or reader)

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

Body of my body, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.

If you serve a chunk of still bleeding meat to a gruesome stray dog, then that is love. If you toss a coin to a crow with a glint in its beady eyes, that too is love. Even when you scoff and grumble at the perceived inconvenience and continue your jaunt down the muddy alleyway. You are assuring an animal that you believe it deserves to have its hunger sated and tended to like a toothache. don’t be surprised when gangrene sets in around your ankles and wrists, bracelets made of red jade. They bite for the same reason that you sharpen their teeth and beaks with roadkill and gemstones. It is life’s greatest gift to ever be well fed, such neglect can open a void from which there is no escape. If only your heart could plug up the hole.

The most painful sentences in existence are hypotheticals that start with if. That's why this will be nothing of the sort, hunting season will be successful.

Your step brother Eric was shot about a month ago the night before halloween, and you’re coping by robotically moving through life as if it couldn’t happen to you too. It’s all too easy to succumb to the panic and the grief but you’ve never been wired that way, it’s safer for you to retreat into a cocoon of numbness.

You don’t want to think about where the woman he saved from being raped is, as happy as you are that she’s okay. Knowing any of that would only remind you of the knife Eric got thrown into his back before he was thrown from her apartment window. He lived in the same building and like the good guy your step brother was at heart, burst in the room with the best intentions.

His good deed got him killed, and all you’ve done is play his music on repeat as you rot in your bed. He’d want you to continue your ballet career, hell, he showed up to your recitals and performances more than your own mother. You always ignored how his presence made you feel simultaneously relaxed and confident but also so stressed you’d be worried about pissing yourself on the stage.

Wide smiles and long dark hair that glistened in the theater’s warm lightning, he would always be the one to stand up and whistle first.

Eric’s favorite ballet was your ballet company’s Swan Lake. He kept a picture of you as Odette in one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

Your parents had only been married 4 years, but you’ve changed a lot from the starry eyed 18 year old that mooned over your older step brother and tripped over your pointe shoes.

Your dad started teaching you how to play guitar before he left, when you were 5 and your chubby hands plucked at the wrong strings. Eric wouldn’t leave you alone when you told him the story, and spent an entire weekend getting you caught up on your missed lessons until you both had a swarm of blisters on your fingers.

Now you’ll never see him again, never get caught in the rain when you’ve begged him to drive you home and wish you could tuck a strand of his wet hair behind ear, never hump your pillow and muffle your sounds into your balled up fists because he’s staying in the next room and you have to be quiet.

You’ll never see him with his band again, caught in that weird space between a groupie and a supportive family member. He liked to embarrass you, make big shows out of looking directly at you and coming to the edge of the stage to poke your cheek. He’d ruffle your hair and your cheeks would be so hot, one wrong burst of electricity from the wires attached to their instruments and you’d go up in flames.

You never told your mom but you always wanted a brother, you should’ve known you weren’t gonna have him for very long.

Hangman’s Joke. God, you wish.

“Hey, peach, ya miss me?”

Hand on your heart you think you’re dreaming at first, but you’ve never really had any dreams where Eric was front and center. He haunts all your other ones, regular strange ones where you’re running around department stores and fucking Kurt Cobain but someintes he turns into your step brother, sometimes you fuck them both.

You shoot up in bed, the straps of your lavender silk nightie slip down your shoulders so you pull them back. It’s the middle of the night, and your vision is blurry, but when your eyes focus properly you see him standing in front of your bed.

It’s Eric, your brother, you don’t even care if there was a gas leak overnight that’s got you fucked up or if this reslly is a dream. You can’t pretend to be fine anymore if he’s right here in front of you, suddenly there’s an umbrella over your head in the pouring rain again.

“Eric, oh my god, what the fuck! How are you even- I mean- How the fuck are you alive?”

He sighs, tonguing his cheek and shaking his head. “I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise, ‘m tired, peach. Missed my girl, didn’t she miss me?”

It’s a little cruel because of course you have, but the dulcet tones lull you into nodding. You don’t want to cry, and you’re scared to reach out to touch him because of the chance that he might disappear. Eric’s haunted eyes soften, and he intertwines his bizarrely muddy fingers with yours. There’s warmth, and maybe it’s just your hummingbird heart but you feel a soft rhythmic thumping under his skin.

It’s different, slow as molasses, more like the chiming of a grandfather clock. But Jesus fucking Christ he’s real.

Your sham of a facade shatters as you bring your joined hands down to your breasts, forcing his knuckles to press into your sternum.

Eric pushes you back down on the bed, his knees dig into the mattress on either side of your hips. His stare is intense, dark and enticing as he reaches down to curl his hand around your calves.

“I used to be obsessed with uh, vampires, ain’t that a bitch?” He chuckles, massaging your ankles and staring off into space. “All that mysticism and unimaginable power and all I could focus on was the way they talked about their cravings. How they get hunger pangs like a normal fuckin’ and it’s bearable until it’s not, it consumes them like they’re boilin’ from the inside out.”

You suck in a breath, Eric’s eyes flick over to you immediately.

“Then I look at you and i’m right back in rehab, toes curlin’ at the thought of getting high again. I think I know how those bloodsuckers feel.”

“Eric- Don’t say that.” Your heart seizes up, but you keep yourself from falling off the ledge.

He kisses your ankle, his black lipstick leaving a stain as he leaves a trail of carnage up to your toes. His lips split wide on a fox’s smile, slipping his tongue in the crease between your toes and sucking each one clean, almost like he’s trying to eat your flesh off the bone. He nuzzles his nose into the sole and inhales deeply, taking in the dirt you didn’t wash off in the shower, the plastic hospital smell from your bath mat, your cherry almond scented body wash.

“Yes, all i fuckin’ need, right here.” He whispers, staring at you dead in your eyes.

He flicks his tongue out to taste the high arch of your foot as his hand caresses your still bruised toes. But they’re faded, you quit ballet a long time ago.

“You have pretty feet, y’know that? Always liked helping you lace up your slippers.” Eric laughs “You’d get so fussy about me doin’ them properly but you’d kiss my cheek after, all sweet on me.”

He lavishes every inch of both your feet with his tongue in broad strokes, making out with your toes because he can’t resist sucking them into his mouth one more time.

You moan, fisting your hands in your nightie, your step brother’s back from the afterlife apparently and the first thing he wants to do is get a footjob from his step sister.

Eric tucks his hair behind his ears so he doesn’t have to bother with it for right now, you can tell that this is like one of those moments on stage, he wants your full attention.

He’ll always have it.

You’re the one that pulls your feet out of his grip to slide them down to his crotch. You keep eye contact as you massage his clothed bulge with your toes, rubbing your heel into his balls and applying light pressure here and there.

You blink up at him, too innocent and too worn down by life already all at the same time, “Like that, big brother? Does that feel good?”

Eric grunts, wrapping his hands back around your ankles and pushing your feet further onto his cock.

“Yeah, peach, feels so fuckin’ good, holy shit. Just like that, keep doin’ me like that, baby.”

You bite your lip, nearly tearing through the skin in your efforts to make your newly risen step brother jizz in his ripped jeans. You wish you had psychic powers and had the foresight to know he was coming over, you would’ve put on those socks with the frilly edges and a red rose stitched on the white fabric.

But he’s so worked up from this already, he’s breathing heavily and rocking his hips forward to hump your feet. He’s grinding his teeth together, already so close to unraveling from how much of a little tease you’re being.

You hum and turn your right foot to ghost the edge of your toenail around the tip of his cock. He groans as he twitches and a bead of pre seeps through his clothes, you can trace the outline of his length so clearly you know he’s not wearing any underwear.

The look in his crazed eyes reminds you of all the times he’d take you to the attic of his loft, making up scary stories and playing guitar with you. When you turned 21 he surprised you with a cheesy golden heart shaped locket, with a picture of you two at your parent’s wedding, joking about how awkward you look with each other there. Eric’s penguin style suit and your agitated face that’s partially covered by gaudy turquoise puffy cap sleeves.

He chuckled and said that every time you look at it, you’ll feel nothing but happiness for what those two losers are about to experience.

Part of that experience is you curling your feet around his clothed cock while giving him just enough of a view of your hairy pussy, you forgot to put a pad on so there’s some blood trickling out of you that Eric is just so utterly enraptured by.

His groans are death rattles now, long and pain stricken, at some point he stops humping your feet and lets you worship him like this. Eric kneeling above you, drooling deep in the back of his throat at the sight of his baby sister caressing his painfully hard dick with her cute dancer’s feet.

Your mind is filled with all the pretty shoes you can put on and do this again, you just got a new camera as an early birthday present too.

“You can come if you promise not to leave again, Eric, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself this time.” You promise, digging the ball of your feet into his perineum.

“I crawled out of the earth back to you, didn’t I? Couldn’t let my sweet peach perform alone, she gets stage fright.”

He comes in his pants and you continue to gingerly move your feet along his length, soaking up the cum that wets your toes like a sunflower does sunlight at golden hour.

[sunnyissweet]

IM BAAAAAAAACCCKKK <3333 hoping to gain my moots bacc

[sky-kiss]

Orin/GN!Durge: Pride (18+)

A/N: Look just. I dunno. There's that fun lil' solo-satisfaction challenge going around but this is NOT tagged for that because no one should be burdened with Orin lol. But like...I thought it'd be a fun character study? So... now this exists. I'm sorry.

Orin/GN!Durge: Look, by Orin Standards this is Tame

Pride drives her to her bloodkin's bed. They are gone again, off to do the slave-lord's bidding. It tears at her. The memory of their last exchange haunts her, heavy like a touch, like lips tracking up her spine, a tongue pressing to the small of her back.

"Off again, is it? You fly from our pasture so often these days. Our sheep whisper, bloodkin." 

They smile, so pretty, so pale, teeth white, white, white—she likes them better flecked with blood, sank deep into the throat of their shared kills. "And what do Bhaal's sheep say?" 

Pride is why she touches herself. Bhaal's Chosen needs reminding. Orin slips beneath their sheets, leaving her scent on them. She winces, fingers dipping between her legs and finding herself dry. She rarely takes pleasure in something so banal, and the touch is such a little thing. Not sweet like a blade, barely anything at all. 

But she thinks, rotates the memory in her mind, and there. Better. 

"That you have made yourself the Tyrant's toy. Bane's Chosen, they say." 

And her bloodkin had laughed at her. Foolish Orin, fool child—always kept in the dark about their plans. Father’s plans. Orin bares her teeth, twisting. The sheets catch about her legs, silk-slippery, too soft, all of it. Hollow thing, empty thing—and the fingers are not enough, no, no. She thinks of the knife again (their knife, and Orin's stomach clenches, a sharp pang of arousal tearing through her), but cannot find the will to move.  The world narrows to a single point: their laugh. It echoes through her damned skull, slips its tendrils into her flesh, and so she slips a finger inside herself. 

Bhaal's Chosen crooks a finger, making her cross the space between them like one of their supplicants.  

Her heart thunders against its cage of bones, threatening to snap them, as her bloodkin's hand settles at the curve of her throat. They press—delicious pressure until the world's edges go black and curl inwards. "Sweet kin…you doubt our Dread Father?" They trace her cheek with their nose, voice like honey, syrupy-thick. Their left hand comes up, fingers curling against her clavicle, scratching, tapping, in time with her heart. 

She swallows, snarling. Tear it free, yes, tear the traitorous thing from her chest. It ought to have beat for Bhaal alone, but it hungered for her Bloodkin's touch. Weak-flesh, pathetic thing. She lifts her hips to press deeper. The moment she breaks from the memory, the pleasure washes back out to sea, and she cannot will it back. Orin thumps her fist against the mattress, turning her face into the pillow as if to suffocate herself with their scent. 

"The Lordling calls you away, and away you run. He bleats, and you turn your ear." 

Bhaal's Chosen ignores her. "Look at you." 

Her bloodkin hums, curling their fingers, breaking her skin. Orin chews the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. It aches to have them close—like her flesh is too tight. Like it should give way. Heretical thoughts flood her head—they are flawed things. Father made them incomplete. Orin's stomach twists. The answer is to tear them open, yes. Crawl inside, stitch their seams to hers—only then can they be truly whole. 

"Sweet Orin…my gift." 

Orin turns onto her belly, letting instinct wash over her as she sinks further into the memory. Her hand shifts, bones rearranging, stretching, setting until it's their hand. All its familiar calluses, nails sharper, threaten to tear at her insides. Good. Good...oh, it is written, decreed. It is Father Bhaal's will that they should tear one another apart.

"It will be you and I at the end of all things." 

They have whispered this same promise to each other over the years. They will drown the world in blood and carnage. They will build their citadels with its bleached bones and stand amidst the hollowed shells of its corpses. They will kill and kill and kill until it is only them. 

Pleasure swells, and she whimpers, dragging her nails up her belly to cup her breast. She clutches until the flesh gives way. She must imagine it's her bloodkin's nails, taking those few millimeters to press nearer to their heart. 

Orin thinks of the light leaving their eyes, burying her dagger in their heart. Perhaps she will pierce their lungs first, yes—swallow the last of their air…

The changeling shudders, fucking herself harder, gasping at the thought of her kin's knife finding its mark between her ribs. Yes, together. They'll go together, just as promised, just as…

Orin pulls taut, her cry short and clipped. The savageness of her orgasm and its suddenness catches her by surprise, her body clenching on nothing first and then gripping her fingers hard enough to hurt as they press back inside. The longing, the hunger, the emptiness…oh, all these wretched sensations remain…she is never enough to chase these things away. 

It will take more whispers in the dark, more blood, more promises…it will take their lips on her throat and the press of them between her legs as they bask in a fresh kill…

…it will take death, yes. Their blood and flesh mingled. And then Orin will be satisfied. 

[echoes-lighthouse]

Watching s6 of ricky and morty because I erased all but one episode from my brain by accident- can’t believe rick proposed to morty in front of tony hawk. lovely beachfront wedding. good work everyone.

[andimlonely]

I am thinking about siscon Mickbell..

TW: incest ofc, possessiveness, size difference, unhealthy attachments/codependency, a tiny bit yandere?

////spoilers for Mickbell's backstory, fem reader

considering how attached he is to Kuro, who is basically his only family, I can only imagine how protective and clingy Mickbell would be if he had a pretty girl for a companion. So instead of finding Kuro alone, you're already by his side when Kuro joins your small- now a little less small- family.

Although he canonically has a sister, I kind of like the idea of found family tall-man! reader who is a little younger than Mick and also was left to fend for herself as a child. He probably meets you in a similarly dire situation to how he found Kuro, and though he got by on the principle of 'every man for himself' up until then, he's swayed by your endless stream of tears, the way you tug desperately at his shirt and plead him to help you, the way your position mirrored his own.

Since you're not a half-foot, you end up far outgrowing Mickbell, but he still takes to his role as your big brother, never letting you out of his or Kuro's sight, eating less when necessary to make sure you have plenty of food, snatching pretty things he thinks you'll like, fussing over you, discouraging your naturally trusting nature and reminding you the only one you can really count on is him (and Kuro, but him first). On the battlefield, Mick lacks the ability to properly protect you, but he makes sure to always at least hide where he can always see you, and orders Kuro to prioritize your safety. You, in turn, remain vigilant over the other two, and since you're proficient with a bow, you take it upon yourself to compensate for your brother's lack of self defense.

I like to think that growing up with you by his side has made him a little more considerate and courageous, but he's largely still stubborn and petulant, and in some ways less mature than you despite the age difference. That said, he's still more street smart than you are, and insists you stay close at all times. You trust Mickbell more than anyone, so you always do as you're told - mostly.

You know that you can't just trust anyone, but you also don't want to believe that everyone is out to get you either. You know that your brother is only looking out for you, but you think he's being overdramatic by insisting you don't get close to anyone else, and you want to show him that it's okay to rely on others too. And while his reluctance to trust anyone else is a major reason he dissuades you being friendly with others, it's not the only one. In reality, he's just as anxious about the possibility of you taking a liking to someone else and leaving him to join them instead.

Though he doesn't admit it to you, Mickbell is hyperaware of how ill-equipped he is to protect you, how you would be better off with someone of a different race. He's especially paranoid that you'd prefer a tall-man for a companion, and is especially insecure around any competent and good looking tall-man your party encounters. It doesn't help that other people make snide comments about the two of you, about how for a "big" brother, Mickbell is far less mature and dependable than you are (and yes, smaller than you). You always wave off their comments, reminding everyone that he saved you, and Kuro, and that even if you aren't actually related, he's a great brother, and an important member of the team. Your defenses always have Mickbell grinning smugly or sticking his tongue out at his detractors. Likewise, if anyone ever has a problem with you or even suggests anything negative about you, he'll defend you really fervently - even if the criticism was valid and put gently.

When you first joined Kabru's party, it was a bit of an adjustment for both of you. You weren't used to being around anyone but Mick and Kuro regularly, so you were a little nervous about making a good impression. Thankfully, everyone gets along well and before long, you could even say you're friends with everyone, growing particularly close to Daya and Holm. You're relieved that Mickbell also transitions into the party pretty easily. Still, the decrease in time with only each other is difficult at first, and means you have to find any opportunity to spend time together. Any time you aren't in battle, you're always at each other's side, your hand in his when you walk. Whenever you're sitting around the campfire, one of you is usually wrapped around the other - Mickbell's favorite is when he sits on something that elevates him enough so that when you're sitting on the floor in front of him, he can drape his arms around your shoulders while your party converses.

It's something your party has taken note of. Your closeness was of course expected, but sometimes it surpasses what most people would expect from siblings. Technically, they reason, it's not really that strange since you aren't actually related, but it still has your party members exchanging fleeting glances or avoiding eye contact at times.

Eventually Mickbell realizes it would be easier if he just didn't refer to you as his sister. Maybe if he called you his childhood friend or just a companion, no one would think twice when they saw you sharing a bed roll. But to call you anything less than his family would just feel.. insufficient. More than that, it wouldn't change the way you feel about each other when you're alone. You're everything to him, it's only ever been you and him. You're each other's first companions, first protectors, first kiss. And while you two are mindful to not be too affectionate around the others, when it's just you two, he reminds you just how much he adores you. Just how much it doesn't matter if you're taller or bigger than him, how much you've grown - he's still your big brother and he still knows how to take care of you best. And of course, he needs to make sure he's still your favorite.

[archersartcorner]

Totally understand this isn’t everyone’s thing, but unfortunately for y’all I love fucked up family dynamics, SO

[bachibabe]

pairing: bachira meguru x fem! reader

wc: 300

warnings: pseudo-incest, fem! reader, obsessive tendencies, just filth I’m thinking about right now 😞

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

I can’t stop thinking about sister fucker bachi and it’s causing me physical pain at this point

He’d be such a good big brother. He takes care of you, treats you so sweet. Makes sure to cook you dinner every nights and draw you hot baths. Ah, he loves the baths every night. Even though he promises to leave alone, every night he finds himself slipping in behind you. Gently washing you, cleaning your hair.

He can’t get enough of you. Your pretty skin, your gentle touch. All of it is perfect.

He’s so obsessed with you. He’s so obvious with it too. Clings to you every second he gets, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while you try to talk to your friends. Making you cling onto his arm, tits pressed so tight against him. He kisses all over her face. You always pull away when he tries to peck your lips in public, too embarrassed to let other people see. But every once and awhile he can steal one when you’re not paying attention.

His favourite was when he pecked your lips right in front of your crush. He kept his eyes locked with his, smiling into the kiss as he holds your chin in place. Not letting you pull away. That guy never talked to you again

He doesn’t care about what everybody else thinks. He wants everyone to know how much he loves you, wants everyone to see how he looks at you. How good he fucks you. Who you come begging to in the middle of the night. Who you belong to.

You’ve been together since you were little, and you’re gonna be together until they’re both dead and buried <33. He loves his baby sister so much and he wants everyone to know. He would never hide his love for someone he cares for so deeply. Someone who he’ll be with until the end.

He’s truly the ideal sister fucker, I think. <33

[justaneedle]

Guys, guys! Mostly so-called proshipers, how about we're explore the whole ‘gods have no DNA, but demigods from one cabin still can't date’, cause feelings doesn't work like that.

People who didn't grown up with each other wouldn't considering some random guys as siblings just because.

CHB should be flooded by demigods who hate themselves and think they're creep just because they got a crush on half-sibling, who are NO ONE to them.

[shockinglysubmissive]

Soon I will start working on The Video sequel.

Tw: pseudo-incest, dub-con (kinda?)

It'll be about Shiggy making requests for more videos that Dabi and Karuna film, but Karuna has no idea it's happening. Sometimes she doesn't even know she's being filmed. But Shigaraki comes up with some pretty twisted ideas that Dabi is more than willing to oblige.

[quietwingsinthesky]

im NOT gonna be a freak on someone else’s post im not but. but. I See That Line One Sentence Above The One You’re Referencing, Prev. The One Where He Calls Them Like Siblings. 👀👀👀 I Can See It.

[diejager]

Hmmmmmm Makarov with his daughter on her wedding day... she's ovulating but she powers through it and after drugging her husband to sleep Makarov claims 'their' wedding night

All the hard work and time your would-be-husband put into your wedding wasted when he wakes up confused and disoriented, deluded into thinking that you had consummated your wedding and spent your honeymoon somewhere that’s blurry in his mind.

And he’s honestly confused about your hesitation to see and visit your father, Makarov came out as such a caring father and a generous man that he’s proud and happy to call his step-father! It’s simply a perk that he’s so rich and powerful. He asks, but you seem to… shrug his worries off, to turn the conversation around when he tries to bring your awkwardness and discomfort around your Makarov up.

[fandomsoda]

Just found out a long-time follower of mine has a fucking alt where they post about basically every Dreamtale-related incest ship you can think of and fucking sh0t4c0n shit (word censored to avoid it being found in search). What the fuck.

So, very unfriendly reminder that THIS BLOG IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR ANYONE WHO MAKES OR ENJOYS ANY OF THAT SHIT. NO FUCKING PRO/SHIP BULLSHIT OR HORRENDOUS NONSENSE LIKE THAT. NOT EVEN ON AN ALT. IF YOU ARE EVEN VAGUELY OK WITH THAT, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

[eddywoww]

Look I don’t wanna push you and obviously it is up to you but I’m 1000000% down for them being “brothers”

Honestly yeah it fits the scenarios I have in mind. Very nearly taboo, co dependency and worship fullness

[proship-pokespe]

123 123 123

Pryce x Silver (BitterLoveShipping) from Pokemon Special, requested by anon, with themes of possessive/abusiveness.

[fujoushi]

source: platinum blood