#you need to understand that others care about you. the fate of the world depends on it. the fate of a kitten you've never met depends on it.

[sigilmint]

i really need people to understand that it is not up to you if people like you

you make people's lives better just for existing. it's not conditional. it's not because you make something they consume. it's because you're the only source of you there is and people like that you are that.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 8 - Double Penetration (Two Holes)

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader x Swiss

As if spying on you through the CCTV wasn't enough, Copia decided to take it a step further, this time enlisting the help of Swiss to enact his own darkest desires, and hopefully, yours too. When surprise encounters blur the lines of consent, emotions spiral into a whirlwind of pleasure and uncertainty. As boundaries are tested, the need for open communication emerges, revealing a deeper understanding of mutual needs and safety.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist ⛧ Hellish Delights Masterlist

Words: 10.9k.

Reading Time: 44 min.

Warnings: bondage (non-consensual), cheating (kind of), choking, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, drugging (consensual), fellatio, fingering, innocence kink, narratophilia, non-discussed kinks, non-consensual filming (CCTV), panty-licking, panty-sniffing, PIV sex, possessive, public sex, praise kink, rape kink, semi-public sex, skull-fucking, spanking, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

Author’s Note: Hi, all!

The Ghouls aren’t demons in my fic. They’re humans who work in the Ministry, but they’re a different class of profession, somewhere between personal assistants and body guards, depending on the importance of Papa’s task.

This is a work of fiction based in the extreme horror category and should be treated as such. I do not condone the actions the characters make, nor am I actively encouraging others to participate in such actions in everyday life. It also does not reflect the personalities of the performers who play these characters.

The purpose of this fic is to shock, scare, entertain, and make readers entirely uncomfortable. If you are not in a headspace where you can safely read and enjoy this story, or even if the trigger warnings make you uncomfortable, I highly recommend and encourage you not to read this. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

If you are struggling to come to terms with past trauma, please talk to someone and seek professional help.

You deserve to feel safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I’m choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

“Come in!”

Papa’s voice echoed through the thick, oak door of his office, muffled yet unmistakable. With a flutter of anticipation, you opened the heavy door, peeking around its edge like a shy flower in bloom. Your innocent demeanour never failed to ignite something primal in him; his cock twitched at the sight of you.

“Ah, ___,” he purred, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he beckoned you inside.

As the door clicked shut behind you, you stepped into the dim light of the room, smoothing down your habit, feeling small and exposed under his predatory gaze. “You wanted to see me, Papa?” you asked, your voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“I did. Lock the door, schricchio,” he commanded, his tone firm yet enticing, sending shivers of exhilaration down your spine.

You nodded obediently, heart racing, as you turned to secure the door. The soft click of the lock felt like sealing your fate, drawing you deeper into his world.

Copia leaned back against his desk, his gaze intense and hungry. “Been thinking about you all day,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “Wanting those lips around my cock. Vieni qui.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks, igniting a blend of desire and urgency within you. You bit your lip, a playful smile creeping across your face as you approached him, your heart racing in anticipation. The magnetic pull between you grew stronger with every step, urging you closer to him.

By the time you’d got to him, his hardness was already out and leaking at the tip. It looked angry, and red… and it made your mouth water with desire. You knelt before him, your heart racing as you wrapped your fingers around the thick shaft, feeling the warmth radiate from him.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. You leaned forward, your breath ghosting over his skin, before finally wrapping your lips around him, taking him deep into your mouth.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper, reveling in the weight of him filling your mouth. Copia groaned, a deep, primal sound that sent a thrill through you. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper still.

“Sathanas, sei perfetto,” he breathed, his hips bucking slightly to meet your rhythm. The taste of him, salty and intoxicating, filled your senses, making you crave more. You glanced up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief, relishing the power you held over him in this moment.

Copia’s fingers tightened in your hair, urging you to take him deeper. You felt the heat pooling in your belly as you complied, drawing him in further, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A soft gag escaped you, but it only fueled his desire.

“Brava ragazza,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “Just like that. You can take it.” With each bob of your head, you could feel him growing harder, and the thrill of pleasing him pushed you to go even further.

His hand became a little more forceful in your hair, a firm grip that was just shy of overwhelming. The slight pressure made your heart race, mixing exhilaration with a hint of fear that sent shivers down your spine. As your throat tightened around him, he groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through you and urging you on.

“Feel that? You’re taking me so well,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. You could taste the salty essence of him as you fought against the urge to gag, your body responding instinctively to the challenge.

With each thrust, he pushed deeper, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm that matched the pulse of your own growing arousal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, fueling your need to please him even more.

“I bet that pussy of yours is so wet right now isn’t it, tesoro?” he teased, looking down at you with hooded eyes. His pupils were blown out - filled with a lust that made him look crazy. It made your hole clench around nothing.

You hummed a confirmation, still too busy taking his cock down your throat to answer him properly. This made Copia chuckle.

His thrusts grew more insistent, the rhythm becoming a desperate push-and-pull that sent you deeper into a haze of pleasure and submission. You could feel the slickness pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your intentions as your arousal heightened with every movement.

Just as you felt the telltale tightening in Copia’s belly, he suddenly pulled you off him, his cock slipping from your lips with a soft, lingering pop. The sudden absence sent a jolt of frustration coursing through you, a desperate whimper escaping your throat as you instinctively leaned forward, craving the fullness that had just been taken away. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with need, ready to plead for more.

But your gaze was drawn away, shifting to the computer screen on his desk. The live CCTV feed showcased a vivid and shocking scene: you and Swiss entwined in the library, bodies moving in a frenzied dance of passion. Swiss’s hands gripped your waist as he thrust into you, and you could see the way your back arched under his powerful touch, the sheer ecstasy painted across your face. The sight was both thrilling and mortifying, igniting a tempest of emotions within you—embarrassment, excitement, and an overwhelming desire to be desired.

Copia leaned back, a predatory smile curling on his lips as he noticed your reaction. “Looks like you’ve been busy, amore,” he teased, his voice low and sultry, filled with dark amusement that sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t look away from the screen, his eyes glinting with a possessive hunger as he took in the sight of you being ravaged by another man. “Is this how you repay me for my kindness?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat at the realization that he was watching, enjoying the display. Despite the embarrassment flooding through you, a thrill of excitement twisted in your stomach. You were being claimed by both men, caught in a web of desire that made your heart race.

“Doesn’t he make you feel good?” Copia pressed, his fingers trailing along your jawline, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his intense gaze. “Look at how he takes you, how he fills you up. Tell me how much you enjoy it.” His voice was a dangerous mix of challenge and allure, coaxing you to reveal your deepest desires.

The air was thick with tension, your body reacting to both the sight on the screen and his commanding presence. You felt the slickness pooling between your thighs, the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With every thrust Swiss delivered in the footage, your own body ached for that same pleasure, a visceral need that begged for release.

“I love it, Papa,” you replied, your voice a sultry whisper as you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, kneeling before him in a practically sinful pose. The air was thick with tension, and your heart raced as you felt the weight of his gaze.

Copia stood up, a confident smirk playing on his lips as he began to remove his clothes, revealing his toned body piece by piece. “Strip,” he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. You obeyed eagerly, peeling off your garments, feeling exposed yet exhilarated under his intense scrutiny.

“Now, get on that chair,” he commanded, gesturing toward the ornate chair that he was just sat on. “On your knees, holding onto the back. Proprio così. I’m going to fuck you while you watch yourself getting fucked by him.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a wave of excitement crashing over you. You moved to the chair, positioning yourself just as he instructed, your heart pounding in anticipation. The cool wood pressed against your palms as you gripped the backrest, and you turned your head slightly, stealing a glance at the screen.

As you settled into position, Copia stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. You could feel the heat radiating off him, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. “You like watching, don’t you?” he purred, running a hand along your back, teasingly brushing against your skin.

“Y-yes, Papa,” you stammered, a thrill running through you as you caught sight of yourself in the feed—Swiss’s powerful thrusts pushing you to the edge of ecstasy.

“Good girl,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. He positioned himself behind you, his breath hot against your ear. “Keep your eyes on that screen. I want you to see how much you enjoy this.”

As he entered you, the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you gasped, a moan escaping your lips. Copia’s thick cock stretched you, filling you completely and igniting a fire deep within. He started with a slow, deliberate thrust, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him. You bit your lip, desperately trying to focus on the screen, the sight of Swiss thrusting into your other self almost too much to bear.

“Keep watching,” Copia urged, his voice a deep rumble behind you, sending shivers down your spine. “I want you to see how much you’re enjoying him while I fuck you.”

Your eyes darted to the feed, the image of Swiss’s powerful form moving against you, claiming you with each thrust. The way your back arched under him, the pleasure painted across your face, was mesmerizing. It was intoxicating to see yourself so utterly lost in desire, and it only fueled the hunger inside you.

Copia found a rhythm, his thrusts deep and punishing, pulling you closer to the edge with every movement. You felt yourself getting wetter, the slick sounds of your bodies colliding mingling with the lewd noises filling the room. “Sei così cazzo stretta,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he drove into you harder. “So tight for me.”

You could feel every inch of him, the heat radiating from his body, the weight of him pressing you into the chair. You moaned again, the sound nearly drowning out the wet slaps of skin on skin. “Please, Papa,” you gasped, wanting him to go deeper, to take you harder.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckled darkly, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Just remember, you wanted this. You wanted both of us.” He increased his pace, the sound of your moans filling the air as he hit that perfect spot inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your gaze remained fixed on the screen, watching yourself get taken by Swiss. The way his hands gripped your thighs, how he thrust with abandon, ignited something primal within you. You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter.

“Look at you, tesoro,” Copia purred, his voice a low growl. “You’re nothing but a whore for our cocks.” He punctuated his words with another thrust, sending you spiraling closer to your climax.

“What was he whispering into your ear then? Dimmi,” Copia asked, his voice dripping with a mixture of curiosity and possessiveness, his thrusts never faltering as he maintained his relentless pace.

You hesitated for just a moment, caught between the pleasure of the moment and the thrill of his question. The memory of Swiss’s breath hot against your skin surged to the forefront of your mind. “He… he told me how g-good I looked, how much he wanted me,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a breathy whisper.

Copia’s grip on your hips tightened, and he thrust deeper, his eyes narrowing with a mix of jealousy and arousal. “Good,” he growled, clearly relishing your confession. “You’re mine to play with, and I want you to remember that.”

You could feel the heat radiating from him, each powerful thrust pushing you closer to the edge. The way he was fucking you, coupled with the image of Swiss still on the screen, was intoxicating. It felt wrong, but it felt so good.

“What else did he say?” Copia pressed, his voice low and commanding, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“He said… he wanted to m-make me scream,” you managed to say, biting your lip as another wave of pleasure washed over you. The thought of Swiss’s primal hunger for you only added to your arousal, and you couldn’t help but moan, “I loved it.” Your hand snaked down to your clit, touching yourself and stroking yourself quickly as Copia kept the pace.

Copia’s eyes darkened, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Then scream for me,” he urged, his pace quickening, each thrust driving you higher into ecstasy.

You let out a loud moan, the sound echoing around the room as the pressure inside you built to a near unbearable intensity. The combination of his powerful thrusts and the sight of yourself being taken by Swiss on the screen was overwhelming.

“Louder!” Copia commanded, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you relentlessly. “I want to hear how much you love this. I want him to.”

With every thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge. “I l-love it, Papa!” you cried out, feeling the heat pooling in your belly, ready to explode. “I love h-how you fill me up! Fuck - you f-feel so fucking g-good!”

Copia’s breath hitched at your words, and he thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. “That’s right, amore. Let everyone know how much you enjoy being our little whore,” he growled, his voice low and dripping with lust.

You could feel your body responding to his command, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. With each thrust, the urgency built, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you. “I’m so close, Papa,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the back of the chair as you surrendered completely to the sensation.

“Then let go,” he urged, his pace relentless as he pushed you to the brink. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a final, deep thrust, you felt yourself tumble over the edge, a cry of ecstasy tearing from your lips as your orgasm washed over you, every muscle in your body tightening in a delicious wave of bliss.

As your orgasm washed over you, it felt as if time had momentarily stopped. A wave of bliss surged through your body, electrifying every nerve ending as your core tightened around Copia’s thick cock. The pleasure was a fiery explosion, radiating from the depths of your belly and sending shivers coursing down your spine. You could feel the warmth of your release spilling over, soaking you and amplifying the sensation.

But as you surrendered to the ecstasy, your eyes remained fixated on the screen, captivated by the sight of yourself being taken by Swiss. Watching your other self writhe under his touch intensified the experience, making your cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. It was surreal to see your pleasure mirrored on screen, the way you arched your back, lost in a haze of desire.

The sight of Swiss thrusting into you while you were being claimed by Copia was intoxicating. You could almost feel the echoes of his movements reverberating through your body, a reminder of how badly you craved that attention. You gasped as your other self moaned, the sounds a chorus of pleasure that only heightened your own arousal. Each cry of bliss you heard from the screen became a visceral reminder of your need to be desired, to be owned.

“Look at yourself,” Copia urged, his voice a dark whisper that sent another thrill through you. “Look how much you love it.”

In that moment, you felt like two halves of the same whole—one side wholly submissive, lost in Copia’s thrusts, while the other side reveled in the wild abandon Swiss had brought out in you. The duality of it all made you ache with need, igniting a fire within that threatened to consume you entirely.

With a final, deep thrust, Copia buried himself inside you, the heat of his release spilling into you. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of warmth that filled you completely and sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. His groans echoed in your ear, a sound that made your heart race as you relished the feeling of being utterly owned by him.

“Sathanas, you’re perfect,” he gasped, his grip tightening on your hips as he held you against him, riding out the waves of his climax. Each pulse of his cock sent another jolt of pleasure through you, making you keen softly, the remnants of your own orgasm still lingering in the air.

As you both caught your breath, you couldn’t help but glance back at the screen. The image of Swiss still ravaging you played on repeat, your other self lost in ecstasy, eyes rolled back and mouth open in a silent scream of bliss. The sight only intensified your arousal, reminding you of how you’d been shared, how both men had taken you in their own ways, except Swiss was completely unaware of it.

The reality of what had just transpired washed over you, and a rush of mixed emotions flooded your senses—satisfaction, exhilaration, and a hint of guilt. But as you felt Copia’s warm body against yours, you couldn’t help but crave more.

“Now, run off to Swiss like you promised him,” Copia commented, smacking your ass as if he were punctuating his sentence with it. The sharp sting sent a delightful shiver through you, and you turned to look back at him, your heart racing. The playful authority in his voice stirred something deep inside, a longing to please him even as you prepared to rush to Swiss.

“Yes, Papa,” you replied breathlessly, the thrill of obedience coursing through you. You could still feel the warmth of Copia’s release inside you, and it made your cheeks flush as you imagined what Swiss would do next.

You quickly slipped off the chair, your body still tingling from the intensity of the moment. As you headed towards the door, you glanced back at Copia one last time. His expression was a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness, and it only fueled the fire of desire within you.

“Don’t keep him waiting,” he added with a smirk, his tone a mix of teasing and command. You nodded eagerly, knowing you were about to step into another thrilling encounter.

Copia had been gentle with you as of late, and today was no exception. But there was a part of him that wanted to let the animal out - almost compete with Asmodeus when he first hurt you. That primal instinct simmered just beneath the surface, tugging at him, urging him to unleash his darker desires.

As you rushed to find Swiss, Copia’s thoughts raced, torn between the tenderness he felt for you and the raw, feral need that clawed at his insides. He wanted to claim you in a way that left no doubt of who you belonged to, to show you that his power was unyielding.

The image of you writhing under Swiss’s control danced in his mind, a juxtaposition of pleasure and pain that both excited and enraged him. Would you enjoy it if he pushed you further, made you feel the thrill of submission wrapped in intensity? The idea sent a surge of lust through him, igniting a dark flame that was hard to ignore.

He wanted you to feel every bit of it—to know that he could take you apart, piece by piece, but still leave you whole in the end. A part of him yearned for that sweet spot where pleasure and pain intertwined, where the lines blurred, and the thrill of domination reigned supreme.

He wanted to see the terror in your eyes again, mixed with that intoxicating pleasure that he saw right before you passed out. He wanted to experience your fear again after the last time, take what he wanted from you, and now from Swiss.

The gears began to set in motion.

Days later, Copia summoned Swiss to his office, a sense of anticipation bubbling within him. As he paced the room, he could feel the tension thickening in the air, a palpable electricity crackling around him. This was going to be a game of control, one where he would remind both you and Swiss who held the power.

When Swiss entered, the casual confidence in his demeanor was evident, but Copia could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Ah, Swiss,” he greeted, a predatory smile spreading across his face. “I have something special in mind for us today.”

Swiss raised an eyebrow, a hint of intrigue mingled with wariness in his gaze. “What’s on your mind, Papa?”

Copia leaned against the desk, feigning casual interest as Swiss savored the drink. “You know, I appreciate how you’ve been… attentive to our little one. It’s nice to see you both enjoying yourselves.”

Swiss frowned, the tension in the air thickening. “What are you talking about, Papa?”

“Oh, she hasn’t told you?”

Swiss shook his head.

Copia sat on his desk chair, the same one he’d had you on just days ago. “The first night, after Asmodeus took over your body, you visited her in the hospital, didn’t you?”

Swiss’ eyes widened. “N-no, I would never. I-”

Copia raised his hand. “It was all caught on CCTV, Swiss. You can’t hide it. Nor every single time after that. It was hot to watch.

“When she was almost healed she came to me and begged for you not to be punished at all,” Copia continued, taking a sip of his own drink. “Turned out it was because she wanted to keep you balls deep inside her, huh?”

“You need to know that everything that happened afterwards was consensual.”

“Of course it was. You’re a good man. You both had your bodies used against your wills, naturally you’d bond over it and make it the front of your sexual activities.”

“Forgive me, Papa, but where is this going?”

“She’s been spreading her legs for me, too. The day she begged for your lack of punishment, I took her right there.” Copia pointed to the spot on the floor where he fucked you for the first time. “And she told me all about you…”

Swiss’s expression shifted from surprise to an uneasy understanding, his brow furrowing as he processed Copia’s words. “You… you’re saying she chose this? That she wanted you?” he asked, a hint of incredulity lacing his voice.

“No, she wants both of us,” Copia reminded him, his voice cool and steady. “Your body was the one that gave her the trauma, mine was the one that stopped it. But either way, she likes it when we both destroy her.”

Swiss’s eyes widened as he absorbed Copia’s revelation, the weight of it heavy in the air between them. “Destroy her? You mean… together?”

“Exactly,” Copia replied, leaning forward slightly, his intensity palpable. “We’re going to give her everything she craves. She needs both of us to push her limits, to explore the boundaries of pleasure and pain. She wants the chaos that only we can provide.”

Swiss felt a rush of conflicting emotions—desire for you mingled with a sense of protectiveness and uncertainty. “And what if she can’t handle it? What if we go too far?”

Copia’s gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “That’s for her to decide. You need to learn that she thrives on this, Swiss. It’s a part of who she is now. And it’s our job to indulge her.”

“Indulge her, or break her?” Swiss shot back, unable to suppress the defensiveness creeping into his voice.

Copia chuckled darkly, the sound low and menacing. “There’s a fine line between the two, my friend. But we both love to see her broken.”

Swiss hesitated, weighing his options. The prospect of joining you in this dark dance both thrilled and terrified him. But one thing was clear: he was no longer in control, and that realization sent a shiver down his spine.

“Alright, Papa,” Swiss finally replied, steeling himself. “I’m in. Let’s see where this goes. What did you have in mind?”

Copia’s plan unfolded like a dark tapestry, rich with layers of tension and desire. He envisioned a scenario that would play with the boundaries of fear and pleasure, designed to draw out every reaction from you and Swiss. The atmosphere would be thick with an ominous energy, the room dimly lit, shadows flickering against the walls, creating an unsettling yet tantalizing ambiance. And you were none the wiser.

*

You knocked at Copia’s door, expecting the usual soft command to enter. But this time, there was no answer, only an eerie silence pressing in on you. You knocked at Copia’s door again, harder this time, but the silence felt oppressive, seeping through the thick wood. Something was wrong. The faint glow from under the door flickered like dying embers, casting eerie shadows across the hallway. A chill ran down your spine as you hesitantly pushed it open, the darkness inside swallowing you whole.

The room was colder than usual, a stale, suffocating air hanging heavy. As your eyes scanned the dim space, they landed on Swiss. He was tied to a chair, ropes digging deep into his wrists and ankles, his head sagging forward, unconscious. The dim, flickering light barely illuminated his pale face, a smear of blood at his temple glistening faintly.

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as you rushed toward him, instincts screaming at you to help him. But just as you neared, an icy grip clamped around your arm. The door slammed shut behind you with an ominous finality. A scream clawed its way up your throat, but before it could escape, a large, gloved hand covered your mouth.

Copia stood behind you, his body pressing against yours, holding you firmly in place. His breath was hot against your ear, but his presence felt like an arctic wind, chilling you to the core. You struggled, but he was unyielding, his grip like iron.

“Shh,” he whispered, his voice a low, sinister murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “I wouldn’t scream if I were you. Not unless you want to wake him up…”

Your eyes darted back to Swiss, his motionless figure somehow more haunting in the oppressive quiet. The ropes that bound him creaked as if they were alive, and the stillness of the room became suffocating, the walls seeming to close in on you. Every inch of you screamed to break free, but Copia’s grip only tightened, his fingers pressing hard against your skin.

He inhaled, smelling your hair as you were so close to him. It felt weird, wrong almost, coming from him. But you couldn’t help the sharp pang of arousal that flooded your veins and pooled in your stomach. There was something wrong with you for enjoying this - but it felt so good.

You froze, the heat of his breath contrasting with the icy grip he had on you. The sound of your heart hammered in your ears, the room closing in as his whisper lingered in the silence. You tried to look at Swiss again, your mind racing, wondering how he ended up like this—bound and bloodied, helpless in the chair.

“Look at him,” Copia growled, his voice rougher now. “So helpless. He thought he had power over you… but we both know where the real power lies, don’t we?” His fingers trailed down your arm, sending shivers through you, though it wasn’t entirely from fear.

Your pulse quickened, your body betraying you as it reacted to the closeness of him. The tension in the room was thick, choking, yet the thrill that surged through you was undeniable. There was something disturbingly exhilarating about the danger—his touch, the helplessness of Swiss, the silence that pressed down on your chest. You hated that it aroused you, but the more you tried to deny it, the deeper the need curled in your stomach.

Copia’s hand slid to your waist, pressing you harder against him. “He’ll wake up soon, tesoro,” he whispered darkly. “When that drink wears off. And when he does, I want him to see just how much you enjoy this. To understand that I’m in control… of you both.”

A breath hitched in your throat. It was wrong, so wrong, but the way his grip anchored you, the weight of his dominance, made you ache in a way that left you burning with shame and desire. Every brush of his gloved hand sent sparks skittering over your skin, the soft creak of leather filling the room.

You glanced at Swiss, his head still drooping forward, unaware of the storm gathering around him. The guilt gnawed at you, but the dark thrill in Copia’s words rooted you in place.

“What’s the matter?” Copia taunted, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’ve wanted this all along, haven’t you? A piece of both of us. Don’t pretend it doesn’t excite you… I can feel it.”

Your body betrayed you, a soft gasp escaping your lips. You wanted to resist, but as Copia pressed closer, every fiber of your being craved the release that only he could grant.

“W-why are you doing this?” you asked, squirming in his grip, trying to make sense of the situation as dread mixed with desire in your veins.

“We’ve both been gentle on you for so long, haven’t we, tesoro?” Copia’s voice took on a patronizing tone, dripping with mock sympathy. “You still think about it, don’t you? Every time Swiss fucks you, you still hear and feel Asmodeus, sì?” His words cut deep, bringing back the memories that haunted your most intimate moments. The truth in his voice stung, as he revealed what you’d kept buried for so long.

Copia’s fingers dug slightly deeper into your flesh, grounding you in place as his words crawled under your skin. “You liked it, didn’t you? The way your body still reacts… It’s why you come back to us, even when you should be terrified.”

His words were poison, twisting in your mind, but beneath the layers of dread, there was something else—a flicker of undeniable arousal. The shame burned hot in your chest, but you couldn’t stop the way your body responded to his touch, to his words.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck. “Tonight, we remind you who you belong to… who has the power over you. Swiss won’t save you from this. You’ll take what we give you.”

The fear in your voice didn’t match the heat spreading through your body as you whispered, “Papa, no… please!” The words were instinctual, slipping past your lips as fear tangled with desire. But you didn’t truly mean them. Not at all.

Copia paused for a fraction of a second, his voice dropping the menacing tone for just a heartbeat. “Are you using your safe word, tesoro?” he asked, his mask slipping just enough for you to recognize the safety hidden beneath the performance.

And that was when it hit you—this was all a setup. A carefully crafted scene designed to push you, to test you. In that moment, you understood. No matter what was coming, you were safe. Even if a small, dark part of you didn’t want to be.

Copia’s grip loosened, but only slightly, just enough to let you breathe, but not enough to free yourself. He was still in control, his presence looming large over you. The power dynamics at play were intoxicating, the push and pull between fear and trust blurring into something dangerously exciting.

“No, Papa.” You whimpered. You could feel his hardness pressing into your back. He wanted this so badly, too.

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“I want to leave. I… I want you to let me go.”

Copia moved a hand up to your throat and squeezed. “Liar. Tell the truth.”

“I am! Please!”

“You want me to take you, don’t you? Force you to take what I give you.”

“Papa, please!”

“Say it.”

The other hand moved down to the hem of your habit and gripped you over your sodden panties and feeling the soaked fabric, a low, approving growl rumbling from his chest. Immediately your hips bucked, trying to chase the pleasure that was coming your way.

You gasped, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. “No… I don’t want this,” you whimpered, but your hips betrayed you, bucking involuntarily into his touch. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t give in. Not yet.

Copia’s thumb pressed against your soaked core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you bit down hard, refusing to let it consume you. “Is that why you’re dripping for me?” he taunted, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to remind you of the control he held. “You want this, even if you won’t admit it.”

You shook your head weakly, though the throbbing heat between your legs told a different story. “No… I don’t…” you whispered, the words faltering as he slid your panties to the side, his fingers teasing your slick entrance.

“Say it,” he demanded, his fingers now dangerously close to plunging inside. “Say you want me to take what’s mine.”

You began to fight back, desperately trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but his hold on you was too strong. Each attempt only made him tighten his grip further, a low, dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Do you really think you can escape me, tesoro?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, sending a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through you. Every time you moved, you felt his cock on you. That hard, hot, heavy, delicious cock your cunt was screaming for.

“Stop!” you cried, but the protest felt weak even to your own ears. Copia reveled in your struggle, using it to stoke the fire of his desire.

“Tell me you want this, and I might consider letting you go,” he murmured, pressing against you, the hardness of his body a constant reminder of the power he held. The tension in the room thickened as you fought to maintain your defiance, even as every nerve ending screamed for release.

With each thrust of his fingers against your sensitive skin, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to resist, to keep fighting against the tidal wave of pleasure building within you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The war between your body and your mind intensified, creating a delicious tension that left you gasping for breath.

Copia’s hands left your body suddenly, and before you could process the shift, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you toward the centre of the room. You stumbled, thrown off balance as he flung you onto the floor in front of Swiss, who remained unconscious and oblivious to the scene unfolding around him.

Your heart raced as you looked up at Copia, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. “Now, let’s see how much you truly want this,” he purred, a sinister smile creeping across his lips.

You felt exposed and vulnerable, the coolness of the floor beneath you contrasting sharply with the heat pooling in your core. The sight of Swiss, bound and helpless, heightened the thrill coursing through you. Copia knelt beside you, his presence overpowering as he leaned in closer. “Do you see him? Do you see what I’ve done for you?”

He brushed his fingers against your cheek, the touch both possessive and electrifying. “You’re going to show him just how much you crave this… whether you admit it or not.”

Your breaths quickened, caught between fear and anticipation. Your habit had risen up completely at this point, exposing not only your soiled panties but your midriff too. You could feel the cold air swirling around you as your legs remained spread out, body betraying how much you truly wanted and loved this.

Copia, sensing your vulnerability, positioned himself above you, his weight pressing down in a way that made your heart race. With a firm grip on your hips, he held you down, anchoring you to the floor as he leaned closer. You could feel his breath hot against your skin, a mix of lust and something more primal radiating from him.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of your panties intoxicating him. “Sathanas, you smell sinful,” he murmured, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “I can’t wait to taste you again.” The way he spoke made it clear that he was relishing every moment of your submission, drawing out your anticipation.

As he continued to breathe in your essence, your body responded involuntarily, a mix of arousal and shame flooding through you. You wanted to protest, to assert your agency, but his grip on your hips kept you firmly in place, leaving you torn between pleasure and fighting him with everything you had.

Copia’s grip on your hips remained unyielding as he savoured the intoxicating scent emanating from your panties. A wicked smile played across his lips as he lowered his mouth closer, his breath teasing the fabric. He flicked his tongue out, trailing it across the wet cotton, tasting the remnants of your arousal.

You bit back a moan.

“Delicious,” he breathed, the sound reverberating in your core. He licked again, each swipe sending shockwaves of heat through your body, intensifying the delicious tension between pleasure and shame. Your eyes fluttered closed, torn between wanting him to continue and the desperate need to assert your resistance. “You taste even better when you’re scared.”

He licked a few more times, relishing the way your body responded to him, before suddenly tearing the panties from your body, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. The fabric ripped away with a swift, unforgiving motion, leaving you bare and exposed before him.

You gasped at the suddenness, your heart racing as a thrill coursed through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. Copia leaned back, eyes darkened with desire, taking in the sight of you—vulnerable and aching for his touch. “Now we can play properly,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he hovered over you, ready to take what he wanted.

Copia’s eyes darkened with a primal hunger as he held your gaze, the air between you thick with tension. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged into you, his movement fierce and relentless. The force of him filling you was like a bolt of electricity, sparking every nerve ending to life. Your body reacted instinctively, arching into him, desperate for more even as your mind fought against the sheer intensity of it all.

“Feel that?” he growled, his voice low and rough like gravel. Each thrust was merciless, a raw power that left no room for gentleness. The floor beneath you felt cold and hard, but the contrast only heightened your senses, the sensation of being claimed on that unforgiving surface igniting a fire within you.

He took you with an urgency that left no space for hesitation, his hips driving against you with a force that made you gasp. You could hear the wet sound of skin meeting skin, a primal rhythm that echoed in the quiet room. Copia’s grip on your hips was firm, almost possessive, anchoring you as he thrust deeper and deeper.

With every movement, he made it clear that you were entirely at his mercy. “This is mine. You’re mine,” he declared, the words a possessive growl that sent shivers down your spine. The mixture of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, blurring the lines between the two as he lost himself in you.

Your breath hitched as he pressed down harder, the intensity of it all washing over you in waves. You felt utterly consumed by him, your body responding to his every thrust, every growl, even as your mind screamed for a semblance of control. But you were lost in the moment, your body betraying you with every muffled moan that escaped your lips.

Copia’s rhythm became more frantic, his desire palpable as he pushed you closer to the edge. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you—wrapped in a haze of ecstasy and raw, unbridled passion.

Copia’s hunger intensified as he felt you tighten around him, urging him to push further. With a primal growl, he seized the hem of your habit, ripping it open with a feral urgency that echoed the first time Asmodeus had laid hands on you.

That earned him a loud moan.

The fabric tore apart, exposing your skin to the cool air, a rush of vulnerability coursing through you. He watched your body bounce off his cock, tits thighs jiggling as he took what he wanted. The bra was the last piece of clothing in tact, but he’d get rid of that soon enough. “Look at you,” he breathed, his eyes glinting with a mix of desire and triumph. “So perfectly spread for me.”

The sensation of the ripped fabric against your skin heightened every thrust, merging pleasure and raw exposure into an intoxicating mix that left you breathless. The remnants of your habit pooled around you like discarded armor, a stark reminder of the innocence he was so willingly stripping away, and you were so willing to give.

Moans ripped from your throat wantonly, screeching out just how good it felt. Each thrust pushed you further into a whirlwind of sensation, each deep stroke igniting a fire that consumed you whole. Your body betrayed you, arching back against him as pleasure washed over you in waves, drowning out any remnants of resistance. The connection between you grew stronger with every push and pull, a primal rhythm that resonated through the room. He claimed you fiercely, and in that moment, all that mattered was the raw, intoxicating ecstasy of being utterly his.

Copia’s thrusts became more demanding, each one a declaration of his ownership as he savored every moment, his body driving against yours with a fierce need. Your heart raced as you realized that this was more than just a physical act; it was a reclaiming, a deepening of the dark connection that bound you together.

Copia’s hands slipped from your hips as he began to peel off his robes, each layer of fabric revealing more of his soft form, the contours of his chunk gleaming under the dim light. For a brief moment, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, igniting a primal instinct to escape. You pushed yourself out from beneath him, scrambling to crawl away, the cold floor sending shivers through your exposed skin.

As you crawled away, your heart pounded in your chest, fueled by the thrill of attempting to escape. But the moment was fleeting, as he effortlessly grabbed your ankles, yanking you back toward him with a possessive grip. The floor felt cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

“Not so fast,” he growled, pulling you closer until your back pressed against his bare chest. You could feel the strength in his arms, the warmth of his skin igniting a mix of fear and desire within you. With a firm yet sensual motion, he positioned you, sinking into you once more from behind, every thrust deepening the connection between pleasure and raw surrender.

He filled you completely, driving into you with a relentless intensity that stole your breath. The world around you faded, leaving just the sensation of him filling you, his body moving with purpose as he claimed you. Each thrust was a reminder of his dominance, and you felt yourself giving in, body responding eagerly to his every move, your mind battling between resistance and the undeniable pleasure he offered.

Copia’s wicked grin widened as he surveyed the scene, his predatory instincts igniting with excitement. With a sudden, decisive motion, he pulled out of you, leaving a void that had you gasping for breath. The rush of cold air against your slick skin sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying the anticipation swirling in the room.

His hands moved quickly, deftly peeling off your clothes, fabric tearing under his forceful grip. The sound of your bra ripping apart echoed, a stark reminder of your vulnerability as you were laid bare before him. The cool air kissed your skin, heightening your senses and making your pulse race.

“Now, let’s see how this feels,” he said, voice low and husky, as he positioned your arms over Swiss’s thighs. You could feel the weight of his unconscious body beneath you, the solidness of him contrasting sharply with the chaos of emotions swirling inside you.

With your arms resting on Swiss’s thighs, you were completely exposed, a living plaything between them. Copia held you firm, positioning you just right as he thrust back into you with unrelenting force, each movement causing your body to jolt against Swiss. You felt the dual sensations of pleasure and danger, your heart racing as the thrill coursed through you.

Copia’s grip on your waist was possessive, each thrust deeper and harder, a rhythmic claim that reverberated through your core. The weight of Swiss’s unconscious form added a layer of intoxicating risk, your body trapped between the two of them as Copia filled you completely. The feeling of being so utterly controlled ignited a fire within you, a yearning that sent waves of pleasure washing over you, drowning out the nagging voice of protest in your mind.

Every thrust felt like a declaration, and with each powerful movement, Copia sent you spiraling further into a whirlwind of desire and surrender. You were his—no longer a person but a vessel for their desires, caught in a dizzying dance of power and submission. The world around you blurred, leaving only the primal rhythm of Copia’s body moving against yours, a tempest of pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

You watched as Swiss’s body reacted to Copia’s relentless movements, his form jolting with the force of you against him. The sight was intoxicating, a reminder of the dangerous game you were caught in. You could feel yourself tightening around Copia, betraying the resolve you thought you had. You shouldn’t be enjoying this; it felt so wrong yet so utterly exhilarating, your mind racing to reconcile the conflicting sensations. Each thrust sent shivers down your spine, blurring the line between pleasure and the haunting echo of fear, making your heart race.

Swiss stirred, consciousness creeping back into him as he groaned softly, his body reacting instinctively to the movements around him. The moment his eyes fluttered open, confusion morphed into shock as he took in the sight before him. Your hands clawed at his thighs, seeking something—perhaps a connection or a plea for help—but the confusion in his gaze quickly shifted as he processed the scenario.

Copia remained unphased, a devilish smirk on his lips, relishing the chaos he had orchestrated. He thrived on the intensity of the moment, the primal energy thrumming through the room, as Swiss’s eyes darted from you to Copia, uncertainty mixing with a flicker of understanding. Your body was taut, a taut string vibrating between two powerful forces, and with every thrust from Copia, you felt the tension spiral higher. You were caught in a web of desire and confusion, the line between pleasure and panic becoming ever more blurred.

“Good of you to finally join us,” Copia said, his voice breathless and laced with pleasure, a dark glimmer in his eyes as he relished Swiss’s confusion and surprise.

Swiss’s gaze flickered between you and Copia, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awakening desire. The reality of the situation settled over him like a thick fog, and he instinctively tightened his grip on the chair, trying to process the chaotic blend of sensations and emotions swirling around him. You were still clawing at his thighs, a silent plea for something you couldn’t quite articulate.

Copia’s gaze flickered down to Swiss, a knowing smile creeping across his face as he caught the faint outline of Swiss’s arousal beneath his clothes. The air thickened with tension, and you felt the heat radiating off both of them, each lost in the tangled web of desire that had ensnared you all.

“Look at him,” Copia teased, his voice a sultry whisper that dripped with mockery. “Our dear Swiss is starting to enjoy the show. Can’t deny what he’s feeling, can he? What do you think, tesoro? Does he want to join in on the fun?”

Your heart raced as you processed the implications of his words, the heat pooling in your stomach, both thrilling and terrifying. Swiss’s expression shifted from shock to something deeper, the flush spreading across his cheeks betraying his arousal, igniting a spark of defiance within you. Copia leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, revelling in the charged atmosphere that surrounded you.

Swiss finally spoke, his throat dry and scratchy from his slumber. “Did you want him to do this, ___?” He asked. It looked like he was about to step in and help you.

You had to nod. “I w-want it!” You screamed, clenching tightly around Copia’s cock.

Swiss nodded and looked at Copia. “Can I drop the act now, or…?”

Your eyes widened when you realised Swiss was in on it, too. Dread shot down your spine alongside the arousal that already lived there.

Copia’s smirk widened at Swiss’s words, the glint in his eyes growing darker. “Oh, but I think the act suits you, Swiss,” he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. “It adds an air of mystery, doesn’t it? But if you want to drop it, I wouldn’t stop you. After all, we both know she’s been craving something a bit more thrilling.” He leaned closer, his voice a sultry whisper, “Let’s give her what she wants, shall we?” The air crackled with unspoken tension as the two of them conspired, your heart racing with a blend of dread and excitement.

Swiss wriggled out of the ropes, so loose that it was proof that they were only there for your benefit. He frees himself from his jeans and dangles himself in front of you, teasing you.

“Don’t give it to her yet, Swiss,” Copia suggested, keeping his pace. “Make her beg for it.”

“You heard him,” Swiss told you. “Beg Papa to give you my cock.”

You hesitated at first, not wanting to show you wanted this. But, eventually, it became too much.

Your breaths came in shallow gasps, a mixture of desire and humiliation swirling within you. “I—I want it, Papa-ah!” you stammered, your voice trembling as the heat pooled in your core. “Please… I need it! Fuck! I need Swiss inside… inside me.”

The words tumbled out, each one laced with desperation, and you could feel the weight of their gazes on you, pushing you further into submission. “I can’t take it anymore… Please, I’ll do anything!” The urgency in your voice left no doubt about how over how much you needed it.

Copia laughed. “Puttana,” he hissed. “I knew you wanted it all along.”

“I d-did. H-holy shit, Papa! Please… don’t stop!”

Copia’s gaze darkened with a mix of lust and amusement as he watched you squirm, your vulnerability hanging thick in the air. “Alright, tesoro,” he drawled, a wicked smile on his lips. “You’ve begged so nicely, I think it’s time to give you what you want.”

With that, he pulled away, releasing you just enough to give Swiss the green light. “Go on then, give her everything she craves.” His voice was thick with anticipation as he leaned back, watching you both with keen interest, eager to see how this would unfold.

You steadied your breath, feeling the electric tension in the air as you leaned in closer to Swiss. His scent enveloped you, a mix of musk and desire, igniting a primal urge within. With a shiver of anticipation, you opened your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to tease the tip of his cock.

You took a moment to savour him, letting your warmth envelop the head as you swirled your tongue around it, tasting the salty essence that pooled there. His breath hitched as you started to take him deeper, inch by tantalising inch. You felt the heat radiating off him, a delicious reminder of the power you held in this moment.

With each movement, you took him further into your mouth, the soft, warm flesh of your lips brushing against him. You could feel him thickening, filling your mouth completely. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, then sank down again, feeling the way he brushed against the back of your throat.

Your hands moved instinctively, one gripping the base of his shaft while the other rested on his thigh, fingers digging into the firm muscle as you began to find a rhythm. The wet sounds of your mouth working him mingled with the sharp gasps that escaped his lips, each one driving you to push further, to take more.

The world around you faded as you focused solely on the sensation—the taste, the heat, the sound of him losing himself to the pleasure you were giving. You quickened your pace, letting your lips glide up and down, taking him deeper, feeling him pulse against your tongue. You relished the feeling of him growing harder, the way his body responded to your every movement.

You could feel the heat building within you, a need for more. The thrill of submission and dominance tangled together in an intoxicating mix, urging you to push further, to lose yourself entirely in the act of worshipping him.

As you continued to take him into your mouth, Swiss’s patience began to wear thin. With a low growl, he grasped your hair, fingers threading through it firmly but not painfully, and guided your movements, taking control of the rhythm.

“Enough of this teasing,” he said, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you properly.” He pulled you back just enough to look you in the eyes, heat swirling between you, and with a swift motion, he thrust his hips forward, driving deeper into your mouth.

You gasped around him, the sudden intensity sending shivers down your spine. He took your reaction as encouragement, his grip tightening as he started to guide your head back and forth, establishing a pace that made your breath hitch. The desperation of his thrusts mixed with your eagerness, each thrust forcing you to take him deeper, your throat tightening around him.

With each thrust, he held your gaze, a wicked glint in his eyes that promised a pleasurable reprisal for your earlier hesitation. The air was thick with the sounds of you both—the soft, wet noises of your mouth and his sharp, urgent breaths. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the sensation of surrender mixing with the thrill of his dominance.

He pulled back momentarily, letting you catch your breath before pushing back in, more forcefully this time. “I want to feel you choke on me,” he commanded, his voice low and husky, and you complied eagerly, letting him guide you into a rhythm that left you breathless. The thrill of being completely at his mercy ignited a fire within you, and all you could do was submit to the pleasure he was giving.

Swiss’s grip on your hair tightened as his impatience surged, pushing him to take control of the moment completely. He thrust deeper, each movement more forceful and urgent, his hips slamming against your mouth, the rhythm both demanding and possessive. There was an intensity in his touch that contrasted starkly with Copia’s earlier gentleness.

Where Copia had taken his time, savouring each moment, Swiss seemed to revel in the raw, primal connection between you, pushing you to your limits. As he took you harder, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the possessiveness in every thrust igniting a wildfire of desire within you. His movements were calculated yet wild, as if he was trying to claim you, body and soul.

While Swiss was all hard edges and fierce urgency, Copia’s lingering presence in the room wrapped around you like a warm blanket, a reminder of the tender moments you shared. He watched with a predatory glint in his eye, appreciating the way you surrendered to Swiss’s control. The contrast heightened the experience, turning your body into a vessel for both men’s desires, each taking you in their own distinct way.

As Swiss thrust into you, the sensation of fullness mixed with a hint of danger made your heart race. You could feel Copia’s gaze on you, a mix of approval and raw lust that only fueled your arousal further. The dynamic between them swirled in your mind—one was the soft hand guiding you into ecstasy, while the other was the raging storm that left you breathless, wanting more. The combination of their contrasting styles left you spinning, the thrill of it all overwhelming as you gave in completely to their desires.

As their bodies moved in perfect harmony, you felt an overwhelming surge of pleasure course through you, a tidal wave crashing over you, pulling you under in its depths. Each thrust became a rhythmic pulse, a sweet torment that pushed you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The air was thick with tension, each breath a mix of anticipation and desire, heightening your senses to an almost unbearable degree.

With every deep, deliberate movement, your surroundings blurred into oblivion until all that existed was the intoxicating heat of their desires entwined with yours. You could feel the intensity of Copia’s firm grip on your hips, guiding you deeper onto Swiss’s hardness. It was a dizzying sensation, each thrust sending shivers down your spine and igniting every nerve ending.

As you neared the edge, your body ached with urgency, instinctively arching towards them, seeking more. Swiss’s gaze locked onto yours, filled with a primal hunger that ignited a fire deep within you. You felt his hands guiding you, steady yet possessive, as he took control, thrusting with an unrelenting rhythm that made you gasp, each thrust blending pleasure with the delicious edge of pain.

With every passing moment, it became clear that this was more than just physical—there was an unspoken bond forming in the heat of the moment, a shared understanding of desire and surrender. The world outside faded, leaving you suspended in a blissful haze as their bodies moved together in perfect synchronization.

As the tension built to a crescendo, you could feel your own release building, swelling within you like a storm ready to break. You surrendered completely, the sensations overwhelming, as you felt both of them push you over the edge. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you in an intoxicating warmth as you surrendered to the moment.

In that climactic moment, Swiss let out a deep groan, his body tensing as he found his release, filling you with warmth that mingled with your own. His cum spilled onto your tongue, the salty taste coating your mouth as his grip tightened, forcing you as far down onto his shaft as you would go. Breathing wasn’t much of an option here, but it certainly heightened your own orgasm.

At the same time, you felt Copia’s movements quicken, his breath hitching as he reached his peak. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good girl.” His cum filled your cunt, spilling out onto the floor with dull drips as he continued to thrust in and out, speed slowing down until he’d stopped altogether. He was breathless and panting, but still maintained the intensity of his grip on your hips even when he’d finished completely.

The heady mixture of their releases enveloped you, leaving you breathless and dazed, the raw intensity of the experience still coursing through your veins. As you lay there between them, the world outside faded into obscurity, replaced by the lingering warmth and satisfaction radiating from their bodies.

You glanced at their faces, and what you saw reflected back was not just satisfaction but a deeper understanding—a connection forged in this moment of shared vulnerability and ecstasy. It left you questioning what lay ahead, the dynamics of your relationships suddenly more intricate and thrilling than before. Would this fleeting experience evolve into something deeper, or had you opened the door to a world of possibilities you never dared to explore?

In the aftermath, silence enveloped the room, thick with unspoken words, a fragile tension hanging in the air. The lingering scent of sweat and desire hung heavy, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder what new paths awaited you all, ready to be explored in the aftermath of this electrifying encounter. You couldn’t keep yourself upright anymore, too weak and powerless, you flopped down onto the floor and tried to gather and compose yourself.

As the waves of pleasure receded, both Swiss and Copia instinctively shifted from raw desire to a deeper, more tender concern. Their expressions softened, mirroring the shift in atmosphere from the frenzy of passion to the intimate aftermath of connection.

Copia knelt beside you, his fingers gently brushing the hair away from your damp forehead. “Hey, tesoro,” he murmured, his voice now a soothing balm. “You did so well, really. I’m sorry if we were too rough. We didn’t mean to push you beyond your limits.”

Swiss leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring as he reached out to touch your arm. “You were incredible,” he said, his tone laced with sincerity. “I hope you know that. Let us take care of you now; you deserve that.”

With utmost care, they helped you to your feet, their hands steady and supportive. Copia fetched a warm, damp cloth, the softness of the fabric a stark contrast to the intensity that had just passed. Swiss, with his gentle demeanor, offered you a glass of cool water, watching you with a mixture of admiration and concern.

As they began to clean you up, their touches were meticulous, their movements tender and reassuring. Copia’s hands glided over your skin as he wiped away the remnants of the evening, each stroke accompanied by a soft murmur of encouragement. “You’re so strong,” he said softly, his gaze steady and filled with warmth. “I hope you truly know that.” By this point, his trousers were back on his body, and he was decent enough should someone walk in - despite you still being as naked as the day you were born.

Swiss knelt beside you, his eyes brimming with tenderness. “You deserve to be treated like this,” he added, his voice low and comforting. “We never want to make you feel anything less than cherished. You are everything to us.”

Once you were cleaned up and your habit had been put back on (or rather, what was left of it), they each took a side, wrapping their arms around you in a cocoon of warmth. Copia pulled you close, holding you against his chest, where you could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a reassuring reminder of the safety you found in his embrace. Swiss tucked you under his arm, his touch a gentle anchor as he rested his chin atop your head.

The three of you lingered in that moment, a quiet intimacy enveloping you like a soft blanket. You felt cherished, loved, and safe, surrounded by their protective presence. The world outside faded, leaving only the comfort of their warmth and the soothing rhythm of their breaths.

“I’m sorry for surprising you like this and not talking to you about it first,” Copia said, gently rocking you from side to side. “I thought you’d appreciate being kept in the dark about it.”

You looked up at Copia, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. “I—I appreciate the thought, Papa,” you reply softly, your voice a mix of vulnerability and understanding. “But I wish you had talked to me first. It was a lot to take in all at once.” You bit your lip, searching his eyes. “I want to be a part of this, but I need to feel like I have a say in it, too.”

“Of course, tesoro. It won’t happen again without your express permission.”

“Maybe,” Swiss began, “next time we can all plan it together but surprise you with the timing?”

You nodded, considering Swiss’s suggestion. “I like that idea,” you responded, a small smile forming. “Being surprised can be exciting, but I want to feel safe and involved in the planning. I think it would make the experience even better.” You glanced between them, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Just knowing that you both care about how I feel means a lot.” Your heart swelled with gratitude, appreciating their willingness to adapt and include you in the process.

Swiss kissed you on the forehead.

“Though saying all that,” you continued, “I thoroughly enjoyed it… even before I knew this was a scene - there was something about feeling scared again that made me even wetter than usual.”

Copia, “I could tell.” He chuckled and rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“Maybe next time, you both could be rougher? Scarier?”

Swiss smiled, “Oh, I definitely have an idea about that.”

Translations:

Vieni qui = Come here.

Brava ragazza = good girl.

Sathanas, sei perfetto = Satan, you’re perfect.

Proprio così = Just like that.

Sei così cazzo stretta = You’re so fucking tight.

Dimmi = Tell me.

Puttana = Whore.

Kinktober: Prev./Next

Hellish Delights: Prev./Next

[nomsfaultau]

pretty please make the philzas have a malewife competition à la the amazing world of gumball best mom competition /j

- ehe

ooooops got buried. For a quick synopsis for the fics I’m referencing- those are here

Malewife Philza Tournament Round 1–Cleaning

Poll below!

The Lambs Wolves Wear: Philza is cleaning like his life depends on it! (Because he thinks he’ll die if he loses the tournament). Doesn’t have much in the way of disinfectants between well water that “Tommy” dumped the bodies in and hand made soap (lavender scented!) but he has enough stress to make up for it!

Fault: This Philza has set the house on fire. With enough concentration, only the unwanted stuff will burn! It’s quick, it’s cheap, it’s incredibly thorough, and kills 100% of germs! Say good bye to dust and roaches, it’s incineration time! Just…don’t distract him while he’s cleaning. And…….maybe warn the fire department beforehand……..still, Fault Philza is determined to prove he’s the ideal Collector- uh, Malewife? Is that what kids are calling it this century?

Mandatory Family Reunion: are you…joking? This man hasn’t cleaned a day in his life, least of all a crime scene. He pays people to do that. The closest he gets is money laundering. It WILL be so spotless there aren’t fingerprints left, but Philza will be hiring people to do that for him. This is probably due to him misinterpreting when MFR Techno says he needs to clean up his act. Maybe if he wins this poll his prodigal son will come back..?

Worth far more than your weight in gold: He is. A bird. [Philza] is a literal bird. Okay a bird dragon griffon thingy but. A bird. He doesn’t understand what cleaning is. Did you mispronounce preening? He is very good at that!! [Philza] will put your head feathers all neat and in place. (…there are feathers absolutely coating the nest and random piles of gold. Very untidy bird.) But perhaps if he participates in this tournament he’ll understand how to take care of human-chicks better.

Golden Apples (Gilded Atrophy): He literally dipped for like ten years. You ask him to clean and he’ll laugh and then pop out to get cigarettes golden apples from the 7-11 cause it’s been a minute since his last one and he’s getting twitchy. and you won’t see him for six months. Literally last time he tried to clean up his son’s mess, Philza murdered him. And he sheds everywhere. Golden Apples Philza is praying his kids will let him back into their lives if he wins the malewife tournament.

Where do babies come from?: He’s not the most reliable cleaner, so he bought this cool roomba to take care of it for him! Tommy is the one who tapped the knife onto Stabby…or he suspects it’s Tommy. This Philza probably doesn’t dust as often as he should, buut he has things like a dishwasher and wet wipes, so he’s basically leagues above like half the other Phils. Babies Philza is trying to convince himself that impulsively adopting the three kids he found in his fridge is a good idea if he can prove he’s a good malewife, thus not needing a partner.

Lord, what fools these mortals be!: With a snap of his talons Philza can magic away all the mess! However, he is asking for your Name in return for this little favor. …no? What about an impossible feat, are you willing to do that? Uhh what about some riddles three, can you do some riddles three? Well. This is awkward. Lord! Philza is doing this because Lady Death insists on seeing him for the maid outfit round. And this man is stupid down for his wife, so, in a foolish mortal tournament he goes!

Lighting Lanterns to Bring You Home: What? No. Why would he? Clean it yourself, mate. You’re old enough to not need help with most of it. Lanterns Philza is rather done doing pointless crap for the gods after decades of preforming impossible feats for the sake of defying fate to get a family. He’s only here because he thought he was signing up for temple duties for Technoblade.

Which ever Philza wins the most tournaments will be crowned malewife supreme

[soberpluto]

Tarot Tips: How to Spot Soul Connections

In my readings, these are the main give aways about spiritual relationships (soul-contracts). Mind that I am taking into account only upright positions.

Applicable to all types of soul contracts:

Cards falling in sequential order: there's an imminent plot to be fulfilled

Preponderance of Major Arcana: the relationship is entangled with universal forces that cannot be controlled by the parties involved

Paired King and Queens (the weaker pair is the Swords suit): high compatibility and resonance

If your reading contains 60% or more of each block of cards, take it as a clear indication of a soul tie

Soulmates:

Ace of Cups: genuine and abundant desire to love

2 of Cups: deep understanding, balance and closeness

6 of Cups: kindred spirits (a reunion from previous lives)

10 of Cups: this is your fairytale romance

The High Priestess: telepathic rapport and a soul bond

The Hierophant: faith in each other and spiritual connection

The Lovers: high chemistry and fated love (you stick like magnets)

The Wheel of Fortune: your encounter was destined

Temperance: you are divinely guided

The Star: a healing connection

The Sun: you light up each other, it's pure bliss

The World: they see you as the one or vice versa

Karmic Partners:

3 of Swords: this relationship will hurt AF

4 of Swords: your self-care will be neglected

5 of Swords: this relationship will feel like a war

6 of Swords: you need to heal from this and move on

5 of Cups: there will be grief, sorrow and loss

8 of Cups: please leave before it gets messier

Many Wands cards: there's a lot of attraction but little to no stability

Many Swords cards: many challenges around communication and understanding (watch out for 7 and 10 of swords, as they indicate cheating as a rule!)

Reversed court cards: please watch out for these, they can do a lot of damage

The High Priestess: there are many secrets and hidden forces around you two, it's highly important you listen to your intuition

Justice: you need to choose for your own good and do what's right, if not karma will repeat itself until you learn

Death: this relationship brings deep transformations through crisis

The Devil: toxicity is part of your union / you are badly co-dependent

The Tower: your world will crumble and turn upside down / you are fatally attracted to each other

The Moon: very strong connection, but one that triggers each's shadow side

Judgement: you need to learn from the past, take responsibility for your deeds and release karma. If they wronged you, they will pay.

Twin flames:

This is the most difficult to pinpoint accurately, but you will get a mix of Soulmate and Karmic Partner cards. Clear give aways are:

2 of Cups: unconditional love (even if the reading looks challenging)

4 of Wands: you are meant to reach union / 11:11

The Lovers: yin-yang principle, you are each other's counterpart

The Magician: you have manifested each other / the attraction you feel is more powerful than your separate wills

The High Priestess: you are connected in ways you cannot understand / the bond cannot be broken

The Empress + The Emperor: You are the divine femenine / divine masculine

Death: you will summon a new version of yourself after this encounter

The Devil: the intense feelings you trigger in each other can create havoc in your lives

The Tower: the universe will strike you by surprise and both will change each other views for good

The Moon + the Sun: the runner and chaser dynamic

The World: they are your "missing piece" and vice versa

🌟Intuition will ultimately tell you which is what, but I feel this is a pretty good starting point. 🌟

Thanks for reading! 😇

Written by @ soberpluto

Book readings here! https://starintuitivehealing.etsy.com

[barrenclan]

Ranger, Ranger, Ranger. The Machiavellian mutt we all love to hate. As we near towards the big finale in issue 44 and the epilogues that ensue, there is no doubt his role will become larger and larger. So, it’s time we start predicting his actions, reactions, and potentially his fate.

First, we must understand his character as well as his whole Bonnie and Clyde act with Hacksaw. I’ve checked through the comic to find their appearances and my search has found that Ranger is seemingly never seen without Hacksaw. However, Hacksaw is seen a few times without Ranger(in issue one, albeit implied and very brief)(And in issue 27, where she spies on the Barrenclan territory) it might be interesting to note that they are not mentioned alongside Prowl in Thrasher’s monologue in issue 13. Ranger definitely could not do all the menace behavior and projects and whatever shit he’s on, or at least it would be toned down, without Hacksaw. After all, she was the one who killed Saturn, the one who caught RainHaze in the first place, and is always by Ranger’s side whenever he’s talking to RainHaze, probably to bodyguard. The main examples of when Ranger has seriously fought are probably the pheasant he gave to RainHaze(might have been Hacksaw’s kill though) and when he was punishing RainHaze for lying. Issue 24 seems to be the main scene where we get a little peek at what is cooking in Ranger’s little brain cells. He doesn’t seem to really be invested that much in routine control, it’s the “projects” that he really cares about. It seems to be implied that RainHaze might not be the first poor creature this beastly brainwashed has sunk his claws into. However, something to note in issue 31(not the flashback part) is that Ranger does not seem that happy. He seems almost frustrated even though ordering around RainHaze and making him suffer seems to be his favorite thing in the world right now… or is that just a temporary mask he put on to trick RainHaze? Maybe Hacksaw’s words in issue 24 affected him.

So, our current takeaways:

-Ranger depends on Hacksaw as muscle to keep him safe

-Ranger’s main form of activity is his “projects” whether that be just what he’s doing to RainHaze or other fucked up things

-Ranger seems to be a bit in a rut with RainHaze right now

Now, to what Ranger might do in the near future of this story:

Well, we might need to know the extent of how far he wants to go with RainHaze. Does he just want him to love killing? Does he want to ensure RainHaze doesn’t hate him? Is this kind of a, “You’ll thank me later” situation he’s got with torturing RainHaze? Because he knows that RainHaze is part of BarrenClan, he’ll definitely want himself, Hacksaw, and RainHaze to have front row seats for whatever shenanigans Deepdark’s going to do when he pull up to their crib. But something Ranger should keep in mind is that if RainHaze has nothing left to lose, there’s not really anything holding him back from revenge. I’m sure Ranger knows this small risk, and either doesn’t care because he’s confident it won’t happen, or will just have his wifey do the cleanup. If things were to go his way, he’d probably just continue to brainwash RainHaze, wait for him to enjoy killing, and then move on to another project. I wonder if all his victims have a therapy group.

Now, before we go into my main theories for what Ranger’s conclusion will be, I want to discuss something a little extra. If there’s anything this comic is known for, it’s the big, fat, juicy EXISTENTIAL CRISES(and the generational trauma). Maybe, Ranger might get one. More likely not though.

So the two routes I think the story will take with Ranger

He Wins:

Until BeeFace and PlumStripe, and maybe CootStorm, we haven’t really seen antagonists be punished for their bad acts. I don’t think Razmerry is going for the route where Defiance gets away with everything though. But you never know. Maybe he gets no external punishments but it’s more of the internal horror, like the ending of American Psycho.

He gets a comeuppance:

This can come in many forms. Maybe he and Hacksaw die together. Maybe only Hacksaw dies, leaving him probably all alone. Existential crisis optional. Maybe RainHaze gets his revenge, by doing something Ranger did to him. It would be a cool scene if Ranger begs RainHaze to kill him, only for RainHaze to refuse. Maybe Hacksaw leaves him, as she seems a little annoyed with this whole project thing, “It’s either me or him!”

Welp, that’s my ramble. PatFW got that magic that got me doing a full analysis of Coyote Patrick Bateman.

You wrote a wholeass essay on my weirdo coyote with the whimsicality of Lemony Snicket... I'm in LOVE with this. I'm never gonna stop thinking about Machiavellian mutt. Coyote Patrick Bateman. Beastly brainwasher....

This is so good! I'm glad you're excited to see where these guys go!

[alshamswelnahr]

Sanemi's downfall is a blend of his selfless and self-harming nature

the distance sanemi creates between himself and genya isn't strictly about protecting genya, and it isn't by far the only way either, he even contemplates a different way in the light novels but settles on violence nonetheless because in his own eyes he's the one with the dirty hands, he is the jerk -despite his evident gentle and caring nature- the rift between the shinazugawa siblings cannot be simply amended by talking it over because it stems from his self hatred, his own belief that he is unworthy of love, care and closeness, which he rationalizes by the fact that even the strongest of the slayers are still at risk of dying which means in genya's case, who can't use a breathing style and is extremely kind, the chances of that happening are even higher.

His fake cruelty towards his brother unknowingly affirmed genya's insecurity (his weakness), meanwhile reinforcing the horrible image he garnered, it's a self-imposed punishment, doubling down on his pain by not allowing himself to enjoy the remnant of the family he assigned himself protector and provider of and failed.

A role which was also imposed on him; living an impoverished life defined by being the eldest brother of many small hungry scared children with no proper father figure, being the child of a man who inflicted verbal and physical violence on them, who was never dependable. Being the child of a hardworking, protective mother who deserved a pillar that she could lean on at least partially, all this creating a child who wished to be the opposite of his own father and a solace to his family, a child who was never allowed to be one.

To top it all, the fateful night happens and he manages to save no one, he fails them, they all die on his watch after the promise he made them. All, except for genya who becomes the symbol of his failure and dreams, he becomes the last part of his true old self and purpose, he is everything, so if genya perishes then his life is meaningless, so for genya's sake he fights, he braves years of pain and loss because if his little brother lives happily then everything he endured becomes bearable, justifiable even.

All of this weight that sanemi assigns to genya's survival, while understandable, is suffocating. He creates this ideal version of the life he desires for him disregarding his brother's wishes, refusing to adjust the plan or reshape it, he single-handedly carries the blame, all the pain and the burden, ignoring the possibility of genya's capability and desire to share it, meanwhile insisting on breaking his brother's heart to keep him as far away, hurting the both of them in a horrible fashion but in the only fashion he knows and insists suits him.

Sanemi's ways are contrasted by his foil tanjiro who chooses openness, softness and, with nezuko constant encouragement, leaning on others despite his own ups and downs and throughout all the hardships.

To summarize, sanemi punishes himself for his self-perceived fault by isolation and carrying it all on his shoulders thinking that by doing so he's sparing his gentle precious sibling, but instead he punishes him as well, thus he is punished by a narrative which constantly advocates for vulnerability and dependency by taking away genya right from his hands as a last proof that no matter what you do, controlling fate is futile so it is better to accept our mortality and be the kindest versions of ourselves while we can and while it's impossible to keep our loved ones out of danger we can still love them.

So, despite himself sanemi lives and genya and masachika's will persist, after the war when there's no longer a need to slay demons, to use violence or sacrifice himself, sanemi is asked to create his own purpose and happiness freed of the duty he took on since he was young and he is given all the opportunities in the world to live for himself like all his loved ones wanted for him.

[tricksterringmaster]

For the character ask game I'd love to hear your answers to #4 and #9 for Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and Eileen Prince!

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Omg, it's not an easy question,

Severus Snape: Something like Van Helsing movie where he can create fun things for monster hunters to fight monsters and be goth, idk. Also ngl I really love the idea of House M.D. AU with him as House.

Sirius Black: Put him in something like The Pirates of the Caribbean. He'd have a field day there. The man deserves fun adventures. Or some story with animals, I just have no idea which exactly, can't remember many of them.

Lily Evans: Okay, I have one movie crime commited, I've never watched Princess Bride, but something in my brain makes me want to say Princess Bride.

Eileen Prince: The Addams Family. Let this woman get good family experience. Kinda one of the reasons I made Princes, lol.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Severus Snape: I'm to messy and forgetful, it would be like living under the judging stare of my mother, please, no. I think he'd kill me, lol.

Sirius Black: I'm to messy and he doesn't look like a person who cares either, we would die buried in trash.

Lily Evans: I think the eventual fate would be the same as with Snape, but there would be a "friendly reminders" period before final measures.

Eileen Prince: I have no idea. If we take my interpretation of her from my AU, really depends on specific time in her life, there is a little window where we could survive together when she was a young adult learning about life in the muggle world in a muggle way. But not before or later. If we take some other interpretation, I need to understand which exactly to judge 🤷‍♂️

[isthisaria]

My recommendation of '23

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry. Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk. One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too. Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

the school of extraordinary lovers by stylinsoncity

"We keep telling the other, I love you and I love you, and we do, though we both know where the knives are." - Laura Van Prooyen harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

The Second Hand Unwinds by kingsofeverything

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

all we can do is keep breathing by thealmightyavocado

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible. That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself. But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.   a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

A Package Deal by alltheselights

Louis knows Harry hasn't fucked and run because he can hear him talking quietly in the next room. He shouldn't care enough to get up and find out who he's talking to—he knows cops get phone calls at all hours of the night and day—but Louis has always been too curious for his own good. He pushes himself up off the couch and pulls on his underwear, which he finds several feet away, folded in a small pile. Harry must have done that while he was still asleep. It feels a little silly to be tiptoeing around in his own home, but Louis does it anyway. When he finally peeks around the corner to the kitchen, he sees Harry kneeling on the floor with Biscuit, and that alone is enough to disrupt Louis' usual heart rate. When he realizes that Biscuit is allowing Harry to scratch around his ears while he mutters to him quietly about what a pretty boy he is, well, okay. Now Louis might need a defibrillator. For the past three years, it's just been Louis and his one-eye orange cat, Biscuit. When Louis starts sleeping with Harry, the aggravating cop stationed at the ER where he works, he has no reason to think anything will change. Unfortunately, Biscuit and Harry have other plans.

a cycle of recycled revenge by brokenbeaks

Foxburgh, England, 1983. In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it. Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

[slaaverin]

Thank you for explaining. I think I got the gist reading it the second time but it’s the terminology I’m not used to, my sister dabbles in tarot but I’m hesitant because of how much it reveals, especially since one time someone who spoke to their guides predicted my miscarriage and never told me before hand, it freaked me out, so reading about Jimin upset me as it seems he is in a bad place bless him. I mean I know logically they are, but the other reading of the whole band said they are also protected when I read that, so that’s something.

I think it makes it all the more important they went in together and somehow fate aligned in the application process to make that happen. They are trapped in there though, both doing crazy things in their careers right now, with Muse and the travel show and now Jungkooks documentary. It’s wild! Do you think maybe Jimin is worried about how vulnerable he’s making himself in this album? He keeps talking about a truth and we are yet to see/hear what he means by that. Maybe he’s second guessing himself in the run up to release. I hope whatever fears and anxiety he does have are allayed eventually because I truly think people do love and support him in the fandom, sometimes the echo chamber doesn’t feel like it but i think people love him fiercely. Glad he has Kook though to lean on when he needs it.

I just wish them the best and all the happiness in the world. And that time flies so they can get out of there fast!

I understand. It's true that tarot is a great tool to learn about energy and psychology but depending on the reader's ethics it can be used badly. To me bluemoonpunch has always been "professional", never reveals too many personal details, never talked about the status of their relationship, it's more on an energetical standpoint which I find educational and interesting to analyze.

I can only speculate about Jimin's fear and give my biased opinion. I feel Muse is a continuation of Face, the natural next step. He wants to reveal himself to us more, tell us something he didn't dare say before. I think he is nervous about this. There is also the travel show to consider, with many eyes on them, more than before. In the past people could dismiss jikook's bond by ignoring their moments or belittle them, but this time the whole fandom will have to sit and watch jikook's dynamic for hours and I am sorry but I think, even without them saying it cleary, it will be blatantly obvious for everyone they are in a relationship. Editors will play the bro card but I don't think this will be sufficient.

Everything will be out on the open, way more than before, and I feel Jimin is aware of this, and dreads the reaction of people because it makes him worried for Jungkook and his own safety.

Muse + the travel show is a lot to think about at once, plus we don't know how exactly is the situation inside. I think he made friends but with everyone? I am not sure. Maybe he worries about things from the inside too, we don't know.

Overall I think this would be a lot for anyone, and I am glad Jungkook helps him in this situation.

I'm trying to tell myself that before making the decision to make Muse and the travel show, he thought about it, he pondered it. So he knew what kind of consequences there could be. Yet he decided to go through with it anyway. He might have had his reasons. I trust his judgement on that.

I feel like he knows why he did it, I don't think he regrets his choices, yet I can imagine him going into the worst case scenario in his head, what if it goes wrong? What if it hurts me, us? I think it's a very human thing to think about. Because he can try to predict the outcome but in truth he cannot control it, so he has fear.

I think he cares what people think because he doesn't want Jungkook to get hurt. Depending on what truth he reveals in Muse he could be afraid of consequences.

I am curious to see what this untold truth will be, and if somehow things are connecting together or not, how everything fits.

I hope Jimin and Jungkook can rely on each other during this time, and maybe it's best they are busy with military life not to think too much about it.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts 💜

[weebsinstash]

No but deadass the protagonist is trying to escape by literally jumping out a window, she doesn't want to do this that badly, and her wolf is STILL whimpering inside of her, "no, I don't want to 🥺"

maybe I'm just built different but like, the werewolves don't always have their wolves from birth, so maybe it's just me that finds it kind of fucked up that they live a decent number of years and forming their own identity and then the wolves come along and, suddenly the human is supposed to just COMPROMISE autonomy with something else? "Oh yeah depending on the story I'm either 12 or 13 or 16 or 18 but yeah let me SUDDENLY GIVE UP CONTROL OF MY BODY AND MY LIFE"

And I understand it's presented as, "the wolf is like you, it's a part of you, what it wants is usually what you want" but like, no, that's what they want to ACT like it means, but, these wolves just straight up do shit their humans beg them not to do. And depending on the story, the wolves are, just, STUPID? Like sometimes the wolves are like "oh my gosh our mate is a hottie, we are SO lucky queen" and other times they're like "we need mate, mate protect pups, it is fate, moon goddess has decided" so like, imagine having a perfectly fucking valid reason to hate someone and you get bodyjacked by essentially something that is too primal and lower intelligence to even GRASP OR CARE about the nuances of why you're upset and how you have been wronged and even occasionally telling you "humans are stupid and complicated" or shit like that

(I made the mistake of still listening and yeah, he literally caught her as she was running away and marked her by force and she's just expected to be chill with this 😔 he barely even feels bad and he mostly just rushed all this because. He was jealous of another dude being friendly to her and wanted to claim her before anyone else did first. What a scumbag.)

Absolutely dying to write a story with a Reader who is a werewolf but absolutely hates their entire society and culture or just, these little traditions they wind up witnessing. They're forced to attend a customary ceremony where a pair are claiming each other and you're rolling your eyes because you know the girl absolutely hated the guy before the mate bond kicked in. The pack Alpha is hosting a speech and you aren't absolutely on your knees worshipping the ground like some of your fellow pack mates, not feeling this primal loyalty and connection the rest of them do. Just you being brought into the pack and within the same week asking "so I can still go back home though right?" And just being so unapologetically vocal about how much you hate all of this

I also just. Have been addicted to stories where it's like "you rejected and abused me when I was weak so now that I'm gifted and strong you'll either feel my apathy or my wrath" so, the specific idea I keep having is, Reader is a werewolf with an absolutely massive fear of dogs/wolves (your parents were attacked and killed by rogue wolves when you were small and you've been raised human) so when you finally get tracked down and brought back to your family's original pack from before they had been living in the human world, you don't want anything to do with anyone, any pack events, any ceremonies, anything, but you're still a kid and get dragged around anyways, and I can imagine Reader just, never shifting when the coming of age hits, maybe even outright begging the moon goddess not to be given a wolf. And then the next year. And then the next. And you start becoming an even bigger outcast than you already were because now you're the werewolf without a wolf, missing all the little celebrations all the other kids your age get, not getting to form a pack link, or not taking the official ceremony to become an actual member in rank and name. You're beginning to hit young adulthood as all the elders treat you with disdain or indifference since you're weaker and can't contribute, if they don't outright think you're cursed. You get bullied, and people either join in or do nothing to stop or admonish it. Anyone who's nice to you doesn't when matter because they're drowned out by all the rest.

One day Reader's basically officially declared the intent to leave the pack and go back to living in the human world, and maybe it's a mixed bag of "good riddance" and "wait what? 🥺 but werewolves are super social and emotional, you can't leave, you belong in a pack, also its safer for you" (maybe even a bully or two of yours actually doesnt want you to leave after all) and you just unapologetically have no interest in staying. And years later it turns out, you had either had your first shift in secret all along, or you shifted after leaving the pack but essentially decided, you never wanted to be there anyways, and it turns out the "weak little wolfless loser" they all mistreated turns out to be, something cliche like a white wolf or a healer or something, and you've got wolves tracking you down like "wow this is so exciting to have a white wolf in our pack :) we'll be so much stronger and have so much more respect now" and you just laugh like "you think I'm coming back just because i have a wolf now?" *proceeds to slam the door in their faces while laughing*

[frostiifae]

kinda outta nowhere but i'm never fully over antishipping. it's just so baffling and sad and wild.

like OK. Crux of the argument is supposed to be that when you write something, the ideas you put into that work say something about you (true!), and you should be careful about what they say (kiiiiinda?) because they affect reality by informing people about what is right and normal; as a reader you can then reinforce this when you consume irresponsible or problematic works. Therefore you should only over write or read things that are wholesome, or at least unproblematic, an entirely undefinable goal whose standards change wildly depending on who you ask.

This is obviously reductive of writers' and readers' ability to separate reality from fiction, but i think that's kinda the point - i think antishippers don't want to separate those things, because I think it's silently assumed that it's supposed to work in the other direction. Maybe it sounds obvious, but I think these people really believe that if they make fiction "better" - erasing racism, sexism, homophobia and transphobia, both overt and subtle, from all media - then they make society better. It's activism! And therefore they're excused from looking at real life and trying to examine their own impact and opportunity to improve or change things. They're already doing their part, right?

like listen. arguing that people are going to be lured into normalizing incest and questionable childbearing relationships with minors because of how they're portrayed in Fire Emblem Fates is very much the same argument as claiming that the dudes that invented Decentraland and the Metaverse would have been fine if they hadn't read Snow Crash. No, sorry, Snow Crash is not problematic because a bunch of morons failed to understand its dystopian overtones and claimed it as their inspiration - those guys were already idiots long before they read Snow Crash, and their bad ideas are not Neal Stephenson's fault.

Such accusations just go to show that you're desperate to assign fault to something that you think you can control, and i'm sorry, but you're not going to Fandom Police the world into a better place. The Revolution isn't going to magically spring forth all of a sudden from collective imagination. The people out there actually creating and perpetuating harmful social structures in the real world are not listening to you, okay? You need to do real activism, in the real world, revolving around real people and their real actual problems. Start with local elections. You have a lot more power there than you might think.

[princeescaluswords]

McCall hunter Anon. I understand exactly what you mean when it comes to AUs that change the open and dynamic for everything. However I argue that the reason I myself don't like them too much is because folks that do such things don't think about the butterfly effect one has on everything else that comes next.

I love your take on it and yes the Argents backstory would be the same however you've given me a question I never thought to ask "why wasn't Scott trained?" I have my own answer for why Melissa gave up the life. But I never thought to ask about Scott and the answer would be he was the opposite of Kate. And on the spot idea would be that Scott was too pure. In a world of boys will be boys Scott idolized and took after his mom with he wanted to take care of people he wanted to take care of everybody even his hyperactive friend styles he took care of when injuries came. He mimicked his mom and her attitude when she was studying for her medical degree. And, Melissa looks at Scott and says I don't want to take taint this. As far as we know, as according to the Argents, females were leaders and men were soldiers. And, if he doesn't fit the roles of either then why not make him something different; a healer.

Using your thoughts a dynamic that I now want to explore is Deaton. If Mel has the backstory that she has then that would mean she knows who Deaton is. What if Scott's whole Outlook on life to help everyone and job came from a change of heart hunter and a heartbroken emissary? Such a thoughts, both minds and yours, I feel wouldn't change the story but it would change\depend the dynamic of a few people.

For me, I always prefer the simple answers. When it comes to "why wasn't Scott trained the way canon Allison was?," Occam's Razor suggests that regardless of what type of Hunter the McCall's would be, Scott's asthma would be an obstacle. Unless you want to make the McCall parents as bad as Gerard, they're not going to ignore the fact that it would not be very good if a hunter has an asthma attack in the woods in the middle of the night. I'm sure that there are other roles an asthmatic Scott could play in a McCall Hunter AU, of course, but it remains a valid possible reason for him not being trained.

I want to push back on any description of Scott as pure. I don't think you meant it in the way it's usually taken, but it is still a dangerous idea to me. Canon Scott is not so much different than any other teenager in the show: Stiles, Jackson, Danny, Lydia, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, etc. He's ambitious to make first line, to make something happen in a life he sees as 'sitting on the sidelines'; while he falls in love with Allison, he is definitely lustful; he is resentful of his father's absence. Melissa may have encouraged him to be compassionate and courageous, but he's not inherently better than any of his peers. When it comes down to it, he's the heroic protagonist because he makes better choices according to his own judgment.

"Purity" as a trait in fiction appears as often and can be as damaging as "destiny"; they become shorthand for "the hero is the hero because he was always meant to be the hero and thus has an advantage in being better." Which means, of course, that those who aren't heroes were never meant to be the heroes, and thus somehow have a disadvantage. I feel this is what leads parts of the fandom to dislike Scott because they, wrongly, feel that his role as heroic protagonist means their favorite character is supposed to be seen as inherently bad. (For many, this offends their racism.) This isn't true. Scott not only could have chosen wrong but he sometimes did choose wrong. He's the hero because, in the critical moments, he decides to do the right thing. For example, he had every reason to listen to Stiles and abandon Derek to his fate in Formality (1x11), but he didn't. He needed to save Allison, and no matter that Derek had just betrayed him to Peter and just tried to kill Jackson, Scott believed that Derek was the type of person who would help him.

But pushing back against "purity" also means I have to look at Scott's relationship with his mother. I don't think we're supposed to take Melissa as some sort of perfect parent. She's not portrayed as such. She's never shown as uncaring about Scott, but she is significantly detached from his life, even during Season 1, in a way that no other parent (aside from Corey's) is indicated as being. I feel this is a function of class and narrative necessity, considering how much her work is empathized. Fandom makes a joke about Melissa doing everything at the hospital, but I don't think we're supposed to dismiss it. Melissa always being at work isn't laughed off by the narrative and that makes her distant. Unlike the Sheriff for example, she has no idea that the sacrificial ritual is causing her son any problems. She misses Scott's uncharacteristic aggression toward Isaac and is confused by Scott's lack of control in Anchors (3x13). And what's more telling is that even after these situations -- she never follows up. This never changes. The scene at the start of Creatures of the Night (5x01) demonstrates this. Scott isn't "pure" because Melissa is always there for him; he makes good decisions despite Melissa being involuntarily neglectful.

I push back on this because of the way parts of the fandom try to insinuate that Scott didn't earn the True Alpha status or even something like a positive relationship with his friends. Or that he was given special treatment instead of the bullshit he was put through. It would have been very easy and justified for Canon Scott to have actually hated Derek enough to leave him to his well-deserved fate, and very easy and justified for Canon Scott to have let the Knowledgeable Adults have their way and execute Void Stiles, and very easy and justified to spend the ten episodes after Status Asthmaticus (5x10) waiting for himself to heal and let other people deal with the Doctors, the Beast, and Theo. But he didn't. And it's that choice, not any inherent quality, that makes him the heroic protagonist.

[classpectingcaxy]

could i please get an analysis for a prince of doom?? i love your analyses so much!! i hope you have a nice day/night.

Prince of Doom, huh? You got it!

Note, as I recently analyzed a Prince of Life and want to address this: Classpect Assignments will have "summary" versions of the full analysis of a class or aspect, while requests to analyze a Classpect without assignment will have the "full" analysis.

Analysis below the cut.

A Prince of Doom is an interesting Classpect. They're almost like a Life player, in ways. We'll get to that, but...let's start with Prince.

Prince

Princes are an active destroyer class. They destroy their aspect, or destroy by using their aspect. They are often plagued by their aspect in some way, and struggle with it immensely. This is shown with Eridan, who was obsessed with science and, despite his immense hope that there might be more to the world, couldn't let go of his obsession well enough to fully utilize his powers, as well as being shown with Dirk who had such a struggle with his self, his identity, that he splintered himself several times over and invented individuals to treat as family just so he wouldn't have to be with himself so much.

Princes also often put in a mask, they pretend to be something they aren't, often the opposite of their true self. Eridan, as hopeful and as gullible as he was, put on an air of science and fact and cold logic, pretending to be far smarter, far more mechanical in mind than he was. Dirk pretended to be aloof and uncaring, feeling it better to put on a mask of "whatever" rather than reveal how deeply he cared about those around him.

And lastly, Princes seem to have a critical misunderstanding of their Aspect's importance to themselves. Eridan completely disregarded Hope and it's concepts as important, and even outright destroyed the (at the time) one chance his species had to thrive, showing a complete misunderstanding of the importance of hope, both to others and to himself. Dirk was more than willing to die as many times as needed for his loved ones, even if that death was pointless, as he couldn't care less about himself, his soul, his Heart.

Altogether, this makes Princes inherently self-sacrificial, though what they sacrifice is dependent entirely on Aspect: Eridan was very selfish and focused solely on his survival and empowerment, thereby sacrificing his own chance at redemption and sacrificing his own hopes of ever having what he dreamed of, while Dirk was ready and, almost, eager to die for those around him, sacrificing himself and his own identity multiple times for others.

It also makes them very powerful, as they fully recognize the potential they bear, they simply see more of it in others, and feel it's wasted on them in some way or another.

Doom

Doom is the aspect of rules, fate, suffering, and death. Doom individuals are often plagued by some amount of pain or misery in their lives. They are sympathetic to suffering of all kinds, though whether this presents as a gentle and patient understanding or a rough and cold "yeah, and? Get over it" attitude is dependent on the individual's reaction to their own circumstances. They have a natural aptitude for "the rules" of a given situation, making them skilled with the laws of the world and the universe, though more to a metaphorical sense than a literal sense.

Doom players, due to their sympathetic nature, are often "bleeding hearts" in some way or another, either bleeding their own woes and frustrations with the way things are, or bleeding on behalf of those around them. This can make them either very difficult to deal with, as they spend more time complaining than much else, or overly sensitive, as they feel the woes of others much more powerfully than most.

This doesn't mean it's all there is to them, however. Their innate sense of rules and the like also mean they are likely to enjoy things like games or work, things that have set guides or methods. Anything with set boundaries, limits, and systems will be their source of comfort.

This makes Doom players more effective strategists, be it in the moment or with time to plan, because they're able to see the world as a system, as rules and limitations, and are able to "play" by those rules quite effectively.

Prince of Doom

A Prince of Doom is one who destroys Doom, or destroys by using Doom. This means they destroy rules, fate, suffering, and death, or destroy by using rules, fate, suffering, and death.

They would have an innate sense of how things should work, and a VERY strong belief in order and rules, though whether that belief is in favor of them or against them would be case-by-case, as they would have a strong personal sense of what is good or bad, right or wrong, and when the objective did not align with the subjective, they would likely default to the subjective they believe in.

The interesting thing about a Prince of Doom is that their abilities align quite well with both the positive aspects of Life and the negative aspects of Doom, and as a Prince they are able to reap the benefits of both.

A Prince of Doom may "destroy" rules, or the system of limitations by which something abides, by finding ways around that system that allow them to freely do things otherwise intended to be impossible, or at least impossible without heavy consequence.

They may also "destroy" fate by changing the circumstances that would have led to that outcome, thereby CHANGING that outcome, changing fate, making them ALSO dip their toes into the same water as Time players.

They may "destroy" suffering through their empathy and compassion, showing support and companionship to those in need and helping them feel better long-term.

And they may "destroy" death by saving lives, either through healing or removing/alleviating the circumstances that would cause death in the first place.

On the other side of things, destroying by using those concepts...

A Prince of Doom may destroy using rules by enforcing them, by pushing them on those susceptible, or by making others susceptible to those rules, causing the efforts or attempts by those individuals to fail or, in some cases, never happen to begin with.

They may "destroy" with fate by ensuring that circumstances come into play just right so that the order of events has only one single possible outcome, destroying any chance of something beyond that outcome.

They may "destroy" with suffering by causing such a great amount of it that it becomes all that is left, their target(s) devoid of Hope, Life, Light, or any other aspect or concept besides Doom and suffering.

And they may "destroy" with death by outright killing their target(s).

A Prince of Doom is...quite interesting. They would likely come off as aloof or cold, or perhaps overly caring or exceedingly attentive. Whatever their outward personality, you can bet they're thinking the opposite, or at least something opposing to their act.

This doesn't mean they aren't genuine in their actions, however. While you'd be hard-pressed to take a Prince of Doom's words at face value, you could without worry trust their actions fully.

If a Prince of Doom is supportive and attentive in word, you can surely bet they don't actually care about the details, but their actions will undoubtedly wind up helping you find your footing nonetheless. They are also likely to be stagehand-type individuals, working outside of the limelight to achieve their goals, and actively presenting a persona that seems ill-equipped to do that to avoid suspicion over their efforts.

Overall, a Prince of Doom is a caring, considerate, and deeply emotional individual...And you will NEVER know it by their words. They may seem highly attentive when in truth they couldn't care less about the details and only want the gist of it, or they may seem aloof and cold when in reality they're hanging off your every word.

But you can trust their actions to be for the better. They will always use their skills and abilities to better the lives of those they feel deserve it, whether that is their friends, family, or simply unfortunate strangers they meet on the way.

Good examples of Princes of Doom are: Charles Lee Ray (Childs Play series) and Vegeta (Dragon Ball Z)

[fatummortem]

@legacychosen​ asked:  @ rose meta on family Send me a topic for me to write a Meta about my muse Accepting Reference Blogs: @fxllenwilson​, @defyxoblivion​, @dementedspeedster​, @gunsandpatches​, @lilmelvin​

       Well that’s a tad bit complicated topic, Rose’s sense of family is a bit warped when you factor in Slade? That mixed in with the individuals who taught her what family means turning their backs on her in the comics gets more convoluted. Maybe Complex is a better word for it. When she was younger she really wanted the normal family that she saw with Roy & Lian, course that went sideways down the road & she much prefers the one she made for herself. 

      Slade, well if Slade ever shows his face or becomes close enough for Rose to take notice of his existence she’ll try to kill him. It’s an automatic reflex where it will happen. If it doesn’t happen within the first five seconds there’s a high chance she’s calculating which action would give her the desired result of his death. She has a belief, no matter how much anyone close to her may or may not want him alive, she’ll never truly be safe, people she cares for will never truly be safe, until his body has been decimated into a pile of ashes no amount of healing could recover from. Course the trick with Slade, is to out maneuver him to the point where she can make him a pile of ash. If any hero or close connection tells her ‘he needs you’ there is a high chance she’ll go postal. In her mind, Slade’s not her family. She barely recognizes him as a father, will not even use the word dad or father in his general direction unless she’s making a Mommy Dearest reference by calling him Daddy Dearest.

      The Titans, well the titans she does consider family, but even that is a bit abstract. They’re like that family member you can never seem to get along with, well mainly Wonder Wench who ends up making things difficult for Rose. At times inspiring her to become more lethal with her approach, as if the very interaction just makes her wish to tempt fate. Just to see how they’ll react. Considering most of the heroes will have one of those unwavering belief in each other to the point they’ll try to help. A very limited number of teammates have actually done that for her, so in response she’s far more loyal to them. Will even put down her guard from time to time. But in essence she doesn’t believe she belongs with the team as a whole. She’ll keep their secrets, not announcing their names to the general world. Eddie & Tim are exempt from the negative feelings she has for the Titans. Eddie mainly for the fact he knew/knows her & Tim because he like eddie stood up for her. Tim’s the one that made the Anti-Serum, Tim’s the one that put a tracker in her phone in case she vanishes because of Slade. So to her he & Eddie are the ones that helped her get more of a grip on herself when she most needed it.

      Rose’s brothers, they’re the ones that will see her without any shields, fake exteriors or grumpiness. Actually they’re the ones that Rosie will probably not even get mad at. Even if they’re acting like an idiot at the time, as brother’s can do. They’re actually the ones that will see Rose’s true smile just for existing in the same room or general area. She will back them up without question (unless it’s a joey who does kill and suddenly displays the Wilson unhealthy need to kill then she’ll try to talk him out of it or kill the person herself depending on the individual)

      Course if she becomes aware of one of her brother’s dating someone she may try to impart the shovel talk, just to see if they’ll squirm. Mostly for the fact she sees Slade as a threat in all things.

      Not Mom, well not mom is basically like her second mother, they kinda fell into it years ago & Addie seems to understand that’s exactly what the nickname entails. So she uses it. Rose will try not to get mad at Addie, even if the conversation goes to Slade. But who could resist someone who understands more about her than others. She can get a glimpse of Rose’s true self a lot more than most can.

      Not Sister, Melvin is precious, anyone religious should probably hold a moment of silence for anyone who tries to terrorize the little darling. Rose has a fondness for the young titan, protectively so. She also finds her a great joy to be around, easily wanting to teach her new sword or fighting techniques. There is a high chance Rose would gladly team up with Grant any endeavor that leads to Melvin’s safety.

      Thad, not like a brotherly sisterly type of family. More like a friendship that has a sense of family. Even though Rose is close to Deb, Thad will actually see more of Rose’s different sides than many others & she likes to give him annoying encouragement to think of himself as deserving.

      Course this is also not mentioning my personal headcanon of her being the ward of Discowing. that’s a headtrip on it’s own.

[kedreeva]

I'll give you (at least) two- one from when I was a teenager, and didn't have anything else, and one from today when I made it past being a teenager and learned I have everything else.

The first is what my mother once told me offhand, but that lodged between my ribs and stayed there ever since: "you can always die later, but you can't always come back." I was kept alive at least twice by the question "what will I miss if I cannot come back for it?" And in those moments, it was a genuine comfort to me to understand that this all ends anyway at some point, and there's really no sense in going home early, but the question also made me stop and think long enough to find something I didn't want to miss out on because I can't come back to this level once I'm out. At the time, it was any number of things, but largely "I want to go scuba diving on the great barrier reef someday and I can't do that if I'm dead so I guess I'll keep going" (and FYI several years later, I actually made it to Australia from Michigan, USA, and went scuba diving on the great barrier reef, and it was every bit as amazing as I had hoped and it was 110% worth staying for, so feel free to want lofty things).

Today, 20+ years later, I don't have to stop to think that hard anymore, because so many of the seeds I planted between then and now, of things I don't want to miss, are growing beautifully. I have stories I want to finish writing, I have stories I want to finish consuming (reading, viewing, hearing about etc). I have art I want to make and art I want to see, places I still want to visit, events I want to go to, structures and animals I want to see in person. I have animals to take care of - my pets, and also the family of crows in my yard that visits and trades me feathers for leftovers and the woodland creatures (insects, birds, squirrels the groundhog under the mulberry tree, the doe that visits with two fawns in the afternoon, the turkeys that bring their gaggle of poults by in the fall every year) that visit my yard because I have rewilded much of it and take care to help preserve their areas for them - and a partner I promised not to leave. I have friends that I want to see who want to see me, and who might need my help sometime so I can't just abandon them. I have folks online looking forward to seeing the next silly little photo of my birds, and there's no way to know when someone just needs a silly little photo of a bird to remember there are good things in this world worth sticking around for a little longer, so they don't miss the next one.

I want to see Stonehenge in person someday. I want to pet an anteater someday. I want to hold my published book in my hands and cry about it a little. I want to see my nephews and my niece grow up and decide what they want out of life so I can help them get it. I want to see what baby peafowl my birds will make next year. I want to make a wild type celadon coturnix bloodline so I can offer others a clean slate. I want to finish creating the genetics info section of my website so I can share information about peafowl genetics for free and put both middle fingers up at the old white dude gatekeepers who want to keep everyone else dependent on them so they can make $$ off being the only ones who know stuff. I want to see the northern lights in person, up in Alaska or Canada or something where they're more visible. I want to go to the grand canyon. I want to walk in a redwood forest. I want to make a lucky Pokemon trade with my mother so we can get cool shinies.

The thing I've found is that you don't necessarily need a "purpose," to stay. You don't have to be useful, you don't have to have a destiny or a fate or a calling or be needed, and the idea that everyone does was a hindrance in my early life, because I didn't feel like the world needed my presence, or that I was ever going to do enough to fulfill a purpose. Turns out it doesn't matter if the world needs me or doesn't need me, because that's not what it's about for me. Life doesn't have to be about doing anything useful or meaningful in a greater scheme or even lasting, because it's not a job we're doing. There's no requirement for doing an amount of things or doing great things. It's a party we're at, it's an event we're attending, it's a movie we're watching, it is a story we're living. Of course it has an end, but there's simply no sense skipping to it early- we'll miss the good bits in the middle, even if we don't know what those are or will be, yet.

I might see a cool bird. I might find a pretty rock. I might see a weird cloud. I might find a new favorite fanfic. I might have a new story idea. I might eat the best nectarine I've ever had. I might bake the perfect batch of cookies. I might be outside on a warm day and feel the pleasant touch of a cool breeze. I might see a perfectly clean paperclip on a dusty dirty floor and be struck by how pretty it is when it glints in the sun. I don't know! I don't know what I will experience next but I know I want to find out and I know I can't find out if I'm not here for it. I know I am alive because that is what I needed (and continue to need) to be, to find out what I want next, to find out what thing I will experience next.

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now

[puppet-inthe-lantern]

My knowledge of did/how I experience it

Imagine you're making a piece of paper. You have a basin filled with the pulp swimming around in water. You take a sort of netted metal sheet (I have only made paper once so I don't know the lingo. Maybe not the best metaphor to use then, but it's the best I could come up with, ha). You take that sheet and dip it into the basin, letting pulp evenly coat it. You lift the sheet up so water can drain off of it. Then you basically just smooth it out and let it dry to become paper, but we're gonna focus on this part, where it's still wet and malleable.

The sheet of pulp destined to become paper can still be moved around and all. There might be gaps you want to fill in, so the paper turns out smooth. This is the consciousness of a baby, its sense of self. I think I read it's still malleable until about 3-5 years old but I dun remember. ("Dun" my cute way of saying "don't")

So you've got a part of self that feels hungry and cries out for food, a part that looks to the mama for comfort, a part that is curious and wants to explore, etc. The basic things a baby needs to learn about its world and survive. As the baby grows up, that pulpy paper smooths out more and starts to dry, till at some point you've got a whole piece of paper and ~5 year old. (Sounds like your paper got torn to bits and glued back together so there are cracks n all. Sorry if I'm misunderstanding!) And that's how the development of self works in humans, so the current theory goes.

If traumatic events happen before the paper is fully dry, sense of self can separate. It's not just a bad event though. I believe there has to be a genetic predisposition for dissociation, thre tend to be multiple events, and importantly, no safe caregiver to go to for help. If there's someone around the baby/young child can go to that can help them process the bad stuff and help them feel safe, the paper is more likely to turn out ok.

So when those requirements are met, that paper is very fucked. It's all the same pulp (consciousness/sense of self) but it may not come together perfectly now. There may be bumps and folds and some pieces of the paper might not even be connected to the rest. This happens because the baby has to continue on with life. A baby is fully dependent on the people around it for care. If the baby was always scared because of something that happened, it wouldn't go to its carers for food or love. So now those parts of self start to form barriers, because it's safer for memories to be sectioned off. Those parts of self spend more time separate from the rest of the pulp, so they start to develop more personality traits and experiences of their own.

Tadaaaaa I think that's a pretty good explanation! Oof, it's long tho. Now for more about how I personally experience things.

Right, so very technically I'm not diagnosed with did. Therapist said there wasn't a reason to make it official. I may also have instead something like osdd, which is in the same realm of dissociative disorders but I dunno. What matters to me is that I understand my experience. So, these senses of self I call parts, also alters because sometimes part sounds odd. Some parts have very good communication between each other- the paper is connected but maybe cracked a little. Others feel more distant or sectioned off- the paper is completely separate. Sometimes there are folds in the paper, which is parts blending together. That's how I usually am, a blend of parts. It's rarely a specific part holding the steering wheel. So y'know, these parts, because they've had their own experiences, have different opinions on things and can act differently. I have a part that wholeheartedly believes in fate for example and a part that thinks fate is ridiculous.

It's all one whole person though, it's all me. So sometimes I can feel conflicted about things because there's an internal struggle of opinion. I may tell you I love the city and then at another time be confused about that response and say I like the country more.

I feel bad, because I think surely that will end up confusing for you. Please know that I'm not lying, just feeling differently. It's doubly confusing for me because I'm logically aware I'm one person, but I can feel like each part is very separate. Hence why I might say something like "that part is real obnoxious" when obviously that part of me doesn't see themself that way.

Oh! Some people with did try to get out of things, like say, setting a car on fire, because "that was Jacob, not me!" . While true then that a specific part did the act, it's the collective responsibility of the person. That being said, if I'm feeling like spaghetti but suddenly want chilli instead because a different part is closer to the front, that's fine. I may indeed have chilli instead, but if I've already started making spaghetti I'll probably just carry on with that because I don't want to be wasteful.

Also, sometimes I may feel and act younger, due to parts still stuck more in the past. It's a complicated situation. I'm an adult with an adult mind, I don't loose that adult mind when a child part is around. But I will feel younger and may prefer things less adult- there may be an aversion to violent movies for example. To be honest, young parts aren't around much. Usually around when I'm sleepy because nighttime has had a history of being scary, but it's mostly background noise. I have three younger parts that are not stuck in the past, they come around a bit more. I have a sideblog for them actually. Not for talking or anything, just to reblog pictures that make me happy.

I also have a lot of introjects. An introject is a part that has projected onto itself someone else. Can be a fictional character too. The introject part is not act the projected person. For example, I've got an introject of Law from Moritat. He goes by Law here too, introjects with Japanese names (like Isaiah) I've changed the names, because I sort of feel like its disrespectful, after all I'm not Japanese. Right, so for example Law is an introject but he's not literally the character. He is my perception of that character. So introjects may not act like the character at all and that's fine. They're not the character, they're themselves.

I may want to write up something about some of my parts for you. My worry there is you'll see them like characters or something. I also don't want you to be on the lookout for a certain part because "I like them best so I want to only spend time with them". It's my hope that you'll come to like all of me.

So yeah, I'll write up stuff about some parts but I may want to trickle it out slowly to you, we'll see. If you demand to see everything at once I feel comfortable doing that for you, I just feel that that could be overwhelming.

Oh, right! So that's also why my sense of gender is so scrambled. Different parts feel like different genders. That's why we've sort of just collectively decided to go with they/them, for ease of use. I feel comfy with you though, so you can use any pronouns for me. They/them, it/its, she/her, he/him. Or come up with your own, lol. I will be sad if you only use one set of pronouns though, mainly if you only ever call me a girl or guy...

And there you have it! Tada~. Oops, I'm sorry this is a lotta info, some of it you may even know already. Sorry about that, haha. Just like I'm learning with you, I don't at all expect you to get this stuff right away. Feel free to ask questions when you need, I'll do my best! Though, the question "what part are you right now?" can be distressing, because I don't always know and suddenly realizing I have no idea who I am is a little bit scary. I am often a blend of parts too, which makes it more difficult to tell.

Ok ok that's really it for now. I'm so happy to be sharing this with you. I've never opened up like this before it's nice. Take your time, it's much confusion even for me.

I wrote this when waking up to pee, but I needs more sleep so Imma do that now. I can't wait to talk to you mooooreeeee