#Familial terms

[bonefall]

Clan Culture: Familial Terms and the Mi/Ba System

[ID: A brown tabby and a ginger tabby laying together]

A Clan is a large, extended family of cats, knit together by blood and mentorship. In Clanmew, a Clan directly translates to "Whole Family"-- Ulnyams, further divided into an individual cat's Gan (birth-kinships) and Nyams (created-kinships).

Because of the ancient cultural practice of Kitten Stealing and its modern-day replacement, the Queen's Rights, Clan cats have developed a surprisingly progressive view of adoption. There are many ways that couples incapable of producing their own biokits can find children to raise, leading to the Mi and Ba System.

The Mi is the primary parent of the kittens, the one who is the "legal" decider of the important choices regarding the children. The Ba is the secondary parent. These are not gendered; it does not matter who gives birth in this situation, if either of them even did.

Glossary:

Kin: Gan vs Nyams

Parents: The Mi/Ba System

Types of Love: Friendships, Mateships, In-Laws

Offspring and Siblings: Runt-ness, Litter Order

Gan Starter Set: Auncles, Cousins, Grandparents

Ancestors and Beyond

FAQ (Last Update: 10/5/23, Mi/Ba questions)

Kin: Gan vs Nyams

Blood relation is simply Gan. Historically, this would apply to the family of whoever raised you before you were apprentice-aged, the point where "Clan Loyalty" was supposed to set in. Gan includes everyone within three degrees of separation; Grandparents, auncles, and first cousins.

In a Clan, which is supposed to act as a whole family, Gan that "clots" can become a danger to the fabric of society. Mentorships serve an important purpose in "breaking" the coalition that Gan naturally creates, encouraging relationships outside of the bubble.

The rough Clanmew term for "nepotism" is Byykabrawk/Byykabraw/Byykabr-- the 3-stem verb for "Scab-forming."

Nyams in contrast is the relationships forged through life, and applying this term is a choice. Nyams is applied to most of your Gan, a good mentor, apprentices you remain close to after their graduation, and beloved friends.

Nyams is largely considered more important than Gan, both for the health of the Clan overall and for the ability to 'cut' bad Gan out of your family... but cats have their own stances on this. There are some that even argue that unchanging Gan is always above the conditional Nyams.

Keep your ears pricked for this mindset; it can be an indicator of deeper, more hidden beliefs.

Gan = Blood-kin

Nyams = Family-kin

Byykabrawk/Byykabraw/Byykabr = Scab-forming/Nepotism/Loyalty to one's blood over one's Clan

Parents: The Mi/Ba System

The one constant for all Clan kittens is that they are expected to have a Mi.

A "Mi" is a primary parent, the one that spends the most time in the nursery looking after the kitten. This is a non-gendered term; there are many reasons why a non-birthing parent may be the Mi of their litter. It also doesn't necessarily refer to whoever suckled the kittens.

There will be one Mi. To have multiple cats 'competing' over being a Mi is not considered a good or 'cute' thing, at best it means that one of the parents is unnecessarily shirking on supporting the Clan and their mate, and at worst, it means they're using their kittens as pawns in a domestic argument.

Two parents that, for some reason, have nearly equal time split between their kits will typically choose one parent to take 'Ba' for clarity.

In the case of a Mi who can't be responsible with their kits, such as if they become sick, die, or commit neglect or abuse, the Ba is socially expected to become the Mi. A terrible Mi can even be "evicted" from the nursery entirely, if they were particularly cruel to a child.

(BB!Rainflower is an example of a cat who earns this punishment.)

The "Ba" is a secondary parent, but still one that is actively involved in their child's life. Ba can also spend time in the nursery and take their duties a bit easier. In the case of polyamory, there can even be multiple Ba!

Mi Limit = JUST ONE.

Ba Limit = As many as you want.

A cat that spends no time with their children is not a Ba. To try and imply that a bioparent that did not raise their kids is a "Ba" is something that supporters of Thistle Law do in order to conflate Gan with Nyams.

The title can even be rejected entirely; as Bramblestar did to the Three, and Breezepelt eventually does to Crowfeather.

Relevant biological parents are given the same terms as wild animals that don't care for their young; Usually Mwaow, an egg-laying mother that deposits its eggs and leaves. Though, occasionally Wairre (a buck or boar that had access to several females) is used for "sires" specifically. Wairre is more derogatory than Mwaow.

"Honor Sire" is most often used for a cat that donated material for a pairing to have children, though due to the nature of the Queen's Rights, the true identity of these cats is usually kept secret. The word for them in Clanmew is Kurruaow, Honor-Egglayer.

(In English, Honor-Dam and Honor-Sire are sometimes used depending on if they gave birth or sired, but Clanmew has no distinction.)

An Honor Sire is not a Ba, nor a Mi. Do not use these terms for Honor Sires unless they are specifically co-parenting.

In the case of parents that can't provide milk to their kittens, they will often have a third person step in to nurse the kittens. This person is referred to as a 'suckler', Ssuow. In Clanmew it has a connotation of favor-giving, and can be used outside of parental contexts in that way. A sucklemate is called a Ssuwi.

A mentor, auncle, Educator, den-helper, or any other parental figure who you consider important to your development, yet was not a Mi or Ba, is called a Yyan. It is an honor to be someone's Yyan!

Mi = Primary parent

Ba = Secondary parent

Mwaow = Biological parent, egg-laying animal that doesn't care for its young, slightly derogatory

Wairre = Biological sire specifically, a reproductive buck or boar, very derogatory

Kurruaow = Honor Sire/Dam/Parent

Ssuow = Non-parent who nurses a kit; associated with doing a favor.

Ssuwi = Non-sibling sucklemate.

Yyan = Non-Mi/Ba parental figure.

FAQ on the Mi/Ba system

"are Mi and Ba gendered terms?" no.

"can Mi be used for male or nonbinary cats" yes.

"What happens if the Mi is changed halfway through?" a Ba becomes the Mi

"What if Mi dies when kit is almost apprentice aged" a Ba becomes the Mi

Types of Love: Friendships, Mateships, In-Laws

In Clanmew, love is not is not a verb, it is a noun. You don't love someone like an action, it 'exists' for them. The largest, most powerful word for love is Mirri.

Mirri isn't inherently romantic, but it can be. It's everything. It's concern, compassion, adoration. Love must exist for your Clan, the cats in it, your nyams, and so on.

Other forms of love are "below" the Mirri, contributing to it. Kind of like different springs that spill water into the same pool. EVERYONE contributes to Mirri, just by existing in the fabric of Clan society.

There are FOUR types of love below Mirri in Clan Culture; Ardor (Sseeo), Trust (Wrarri), Enjoyment (Piwarri), and Righteous Love (Yyaawr)

Ardor = Sseeo Passionate attraction, in the 'honeymoon' romantic crush way. Ardor notoriously fades over time. It is considered very powerful, but something that by nature doesn't last. For a good example of Ardor, Fallowtail claimed she had this type of love for Reedfeather when she had his kits, and that is why she has no love for him now. This made perfect sense to RiverClan, home of the Queen's Rights. Ardor that lasts is a rare and special thing.

Trust = Wrarri Personal, platonic affection. Rapport built between friends, mentors, mates, family. It's not until recently that this has also come to apply between Clans, too. A very strong, reliable kind of love; it is considered traitorous to have a lot of this for someone in another Clan. Bluestar had this for the Forget-Me-Nots, and them for her in turn... but also, it was more than Wrarri. It was Piwarri, Sseeo, and even Yyaawr. They were everything to her.

Enjoyment = Piwarri You know when you find someone entertaining? Or you have a particular friend you love playing a specific game with? You wouldn't fight for them, but you may do them a favor, especially if it means you get to hang out more often. THAT is piwarri. This is used a LOT with inter-Clan friendships. Piwarri is considered easy, soft, and friendly, but not strong like Wrarri is. It is something that can contribute to Mirri, but is also not a threat to it. Buddy-love.

Righteous Love = Yyaawr When Firestar received a life "for the love of a mother for her kits", he was getting 20 kilos of this slammed into his face. It's a difficult translation, because it isn't just for a mother and her kits. It's righteous anger at injustice, the fury in seeing smashed songbird eggs. It's the need to protect helpless things. It's love that makes you sacrifice your food for for kittens, or a leader's lives for their Clan. Sometimes, a person's yyaawr for you can be suffocating. It's not always welcome. ThunderClan identified Millie's feeling towards Briarlight as yyaawr. Brambleclaw (though he, obviously, was mostly saying it to upset her) accused Squilf of wanting to receive one-sided yyaawr over mutual wrarri.

Love in Clan Culture can be understood through these four ideas. Family is Trust and Righteous Love. Courting is Ardor and Enjoyment. Co-Parenting is Piwarri and Wrarri. Together, they all form Mirri.

Mate = Irre Someone that you would share a nest with. You can have multiple mates, but it often becomes logistically limited by how big you can make a single nest. They also don't HAVE to be romantic. If you would call them a 'spouse,' they're your mate.

Significant Other, Partner = Iwaw Co-parents, particularly close friends, a metamour of a mate in the case of polyamory... people who are significant enough that you would consult with decision-making, but you wouldn't describe as a 'mate.'

Date/Boyfriend/Girlfriend/"We're courting but not seriously" = Sseerr When you're in a state of ardor or just dating, this is the word you use. It could become serious, or it could just be for fun. When it gets serious, even if they don't end up becoming a "mate", it becomes Iwaw.

And, lastly, there are a few terms for in-laws of each one of these stages, 3 for Irre, 2 for Iwaw, and 1 for Sseerr.

IN-LAWS OF YOUR IRRI (MATE);

Mi of your mate = Rrimi

Ba of your mate = Rriba

Family of your mate =Rriga

IN-LAWS OF YOUR IWAW (Significant Person, this CAN be a best friend.)

Mi of your SP = Iwmi

Family of your SP = Iwga

IN-LAWS OF YOUR SSEERR (Date)

Family of your date = Ssega

Offspring and Siblings: Runt-ness, Litter Order

The average size of a Clan cat litter is 2.5 children (Nia'u), and most parents will have at least 2 litters (Neewarr) in their lifetime. A cat's first litter is something to be very proud of, and the children within it are called Niak. Children of the second litter are Niawi. Any more litters than that are called Nia'eef.

Long ago, stolen kittens who were not from a particular litter were called Kurrnia, "Honor-Children." This word is not used now for reasons that are hopefully obvious.

So, having absolutely no siblings is quite rare!

You refer to all of your siblings as your Firra. The ones from a litter above you are your Kafrrif, below you are your Eefrri, and your littermates are Wifeerr.

So, in addition to having words for an older or younger litter of siblings, there are also words for your size within your own litter. Clan Culture is more concerned if you were a large kitten or a runt than your birth order.

This is because growing up, size would mean you had the upper paw in brawls, to your suckler's milk, and ability to explore the world. A bigger kitten is one that can mature faster. Runts are considered to need more protection and 'babying' to make sure they grow up healthy.

Your larger littermate is your Wikfrra. A smaller littermate is your Weefswa. If you're equally sized, you squabble endlessly over who's REALLY the larger sibling until one of your parents snaps and insists that you're JUST Wifeerr-- similarly-sized littermates.

Nia'u = Child/son/daughter

Neewarr = Litter

Niak = Child of first litter

Niawi = Child of second litter

Nia'eef = Child of third/any more litters

Kurrnia = Stolen kit, rightfully won through battle (Archaic)

Firra = Siblings (Broad term, often assumed to be innately plural and referring to several types of siblings at once)

Kafrrif = Sibling of older litter

Eefrri = Sibling of younger litter

Wifeerr = Littermate (Generic and of a similar size)

Wikfrra = Larger littermate

Weesfwa = Smaller littermate

Gan Starter Set: Auncles, Cousins, Grandparents

Kittens receive a LOT of orbital care. Even if they only have a Mi, the entire camp is expected to become acquainted with the new kits. This one stops a kit from touching a hot soup cauldron, that one explains where clouds come from (starclan ofc), another one keeps them entertained with a funny story.

And, of course, the immediate relatives of the new kitten go out of their way to make sure their new kin is cared for. Is their Mi fed? Are their Bas overwhelmed? Is someone watching them? Grandparents provide advice from their life experience, Auncles make sure their siblings know they're not alone, and Cousins are there to go through it with them.

An Auncle is either your Myami (Sibling of your Mi) or your Byami (Sibling of your Ba). They call their nespring a Rabnif, regardless of their sibling's Mi or Ba status. First Cousins are Rabir.

Grandparents are quite special. While Auncles are defined on if they are your Ba's sibling or your Mi's sibling, the labels of Grandparents are 'looser.'

Your Ami is, by default, the Mi of your Mi... but can easily shuffle around if that specific cat is not present in your life. Like a Ba, your Garrmi is any other grandparent involved in your life who is not your Ami, but is by default the Mi of your Ba or the Ba of your Mi. Finally, a Genrrarg is technically the Ba of your Ba, but more often applies to Grandparents you're more distant with.

And, like Mi and Ba, these terms are exclusive to cats who are in your life. Your father's uninvolved Honor Sire is not your Genrrarg.

Grandparents have two terms for their grandchildren. A Nini is a grandchild that they have a significant role in raising. This is especially common for kittens that only have a Mi and no Ba. "Niauga" implies a bit more distance.

Myami = Mi-Auncle

Byami = Ba-Auncle

Rabnif = Nespring/nephew/niece

Rabir = Cousin

Ami = Mi of my Mi (This can also be applied as a term of endearment. For example, Heartstar is the Ba of her kittens, but Tawnypelt is still Shadowsight's Ami)

Garrmi = Ba of my Mi AND/OR Mi of my Ba

Genrrarg = Ba of my Ba/Someone who is still a grandparent, but not a close one.

Niauga = Grandchild (General)

Nini = Grandchild (That you have responsibility for)

Ancestors and Beyond

Clan Culture doesn't typically track beyond immediate family, using the same general terms for wide swaths of distant relationships.

Great-grandparents, grand-auncles, and distant cousins are Garrmwa. It could roughly translate to "ancestor" or "relative." These are cats that a connection can be made to with some deduction, but are not relevant.

If a cat ever did become particularly close to their Garrmwa, they would replace the title with the closest approximate term. For example, Jayfeather's mentor was his grand-uncle Longtail. After a while, he was simply acknowledged as his Myami, as he was the brother of Squirrelflight's Mi.

A Sharrarram is an Ancestor. A cat of your kin that has joined the ranks of StarClan. This isn't just direct ancestry; this could include the brother of your great-great-grandfather who died of an adder bite as an apprentice.

StarClan refers to its living relatives as Shegarra, "descendants."

Garrmwa = Relative (For relatives that can still be tracked with deduction but are not close enough to be within Gan.)

Sharrarram = Ancestors (For ancient ancestors, beyond modern memory, who live in the stars.)

Shegarra = Descendant

FAQ

Mi/Ba System FAQ

"are Mi and Ba gendered terms?" no.

"What if the Mi dies when kit is almost apprentice aged?" Ba becomes Mi legally, probably doesn't change the words they use.

"What happens if the Mi is changed halfway through the childhood?" Ba becomes Mi legally but family figures out if the kit will change the words they use.

"Can the Mi of the first litter decide they want to be Ba of the next litter?" Yes that's fine! The kids will just use the title that was relevant to them.

[crowkip]

yeehaw, baby!

[murasaki-cha]

Percy going "Grandpa (derogatory)" about Kronos

That was beautiful

[kiaxet]

I think my favorite aspect of the Hades II announcement is the idea that, somewhere in the underworld, a very thunderstruck Zagreus is demanding, "What do you MEAN, I have a sister?!"

[alexis-royce]

It drives me a little spinny when I see people posting “Why Aziraphale doesn’t just keep his books at home if he doesn’t want to sell them” because it seems to me to so clearly be a riff on real life antiquarian bookshops?

I worked in a used and rare book shop for five years, and have frequented them since I was young, and Aziraphale is like, a type of guy who just exists. An older fellow who refuses to keep his books in any sort of order, neglects to write prices in, opens at wildly varying hours, and by all accounts does not seem to want to be in business at all. The answer I found, by the end, was because many of them were doing it as a sort of retirement hobby. They made enough money to keep the lights on and to buy new rare books to look at.

I swear to you: nobody in the book business would bat an eye at Aziraphale. Especially if his shop had been there for generations. They would assume that the occasional loose encyclopedia plate sale would be enough to make rent, or that Mr. Fell had business and land holdings elsewhere.

And I assume that though he doesn’t want to sell them, he would LOVE a curious browser. Antiquarian vendors often adore it when you ask how to find a rare book, because the thrill of the hunt is often better than actually owning the volume. Anyone can have a private library, but owning a quaint little bookshop is a saucy way to brag and chat with other book lovers, and you can’t put that on your shelf at home.

[somethingsketchy3]

“Our child will always be a Bridgerton, but I should like them to know they are a Sharma as well” 💜🩵

the way this line lives in my mind rent free, like you don’t understand; the weight, the sentiments, the implications, in this essay i will—

ANYWAYS, i really hope to see baby Edmund in S4 👀

[warriorrazor]

“It feels… weird though… having a funeral for someone not even real…”

“Hey, this whole circus is weird. Besides, he’s real to you. So he’s just as real to us as well.”

[redysetdare]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[turtleblogatlast]

I love Raph and haven’t said that enough so to be more specific I love that Raph is a soft boy who loves bear plushies, a gross boy who eats an assortment of things that are definitely better left alone, a smart boy who is more than capable of taking down villains through planning and fortitude alike, a strong boy who is dedicated to training his muscles and fighting prowess, a teenage boy who loves his brothers but is more than happy to tease and roughhouse with them, an angry boy who sometimes lets his anger take a hold of him to cover the fear, a gentle boy who is generous with hugs and affirmations to those he loves, a capable boy who takes on more than should ever be expected of a teenager, a good boy who just wants to be a hero and slowly comes to realize the cost of that duty, a good boy who has no reservations about putting himself in the way of harm coming to his family, a good boy who’s a great brother and son and person and deserves only the best the world has to offer.

[bolithesenate]

What happens when a Jedi Initiate dies?

It cannot always be prevented, the galaxy is a dangerous place, especially for children, and the Jedi are still only mortal.

Accidents happen. Illnesses exist.

Tragedies do too.

The Crèchemasters are highly trained to prevent that, of course, but they too are only mortal. They too can fail.

The death of an Initiate is a heavy burden, for the entire Temple. It doesn't happen often, but when it does it is a heavy burden. It is from that burden that one of the Order's most sacred traditions stems from.

They may die an Initiate, but they will not join the Force without guidance.

When an Initiate dies, they automatically gain the rank of Padawan – no matter their age. They will posthumously be taken in by a Master and be gifted a braid and a lineage. If they already found their crystal and built their saber, these too will be taken care of by their new Master.

Some Masters of such Ghost-Padawans, especially those who had a bond before their passing, will live the following years as if they had a living student. They will not take on another until the Force or they themselves deems them ready, at which point the High Council will hold a honorary Knighting.

Because while the Order might lose an Initiate, no Initiate will ever be left alone.

[bonefall]

You know what's a super classic conlang thing I'm shocked we haven't done? A kinship terminology chart! We should totally have one, get in those terms for uncle/aunt, grandparents, nesprings, the whole of it!

LETSGO, full list of the familial terms they use in Clanmew, plus a straightforward explanation of the concepts that have been floating around!

PARENTS

Blood relation is simply Gan. This is a term that's more related to bloodline; Nyams is for people you consider your family. Both of these are translated as 'Kin.'

So to start with, the only constant for a kitten is that they have a Mi.

A Mi is a Primary Parent. This is a non-gendered term; there are many reasons why a non-birthing parent may be the Mi of their litter. It also doesn't necessarily refer to whoever suckled the kittens. Whoever spent the most time and energy raising the litter is its Mi.

Fernsong was the Mi of his litter. Torear, biologically Harestar and Kestrelflight's uncle who adopted them, was their Mi. Breezepelt is the Mi of the litters in his polycule.

If, for some reason, the Mi was unable to care for their kittens, their Ba is expected to step up and become their Mi.

Most kittens also have a Ba.

A Ba is a Secondary Parent. This exclusively refers to cats involved in kittencare, to try and imply that an Honor Sire that has no role in raising their children is a Ba is something that supporters of Thistle Law do. It inherently means closeness.

For example, when TigerClan took over, Rippleclaw was considered the Ba of Swansong, even though Oakheart had raised him along with Stonefur and Mistyfoot.

Never use "Ba" for an Honor Sire unless the Honor Sire is co-parenting, such as with Firestar and Sandstorm. "Ba" can also be a title that a cat rejects completely, such as with Breezepelt to Crowfeather, Brambleclaw to the Three, and Dovewing to Lionblaze!

"Ba" applies to all kitten-involved members of a polycule. Heathertail and Harestar are both Ba to the kittens that Breezepelt is the Mi of. In cases of there being multiple Ba, usually a creative nickname is made up to differentiate them. For Harestar, his Clanmew name (Yywayayiaoyr) has so many Y sounds that his children call him Ya!

A Mwaow is a relevant biological parent. Usually a mother if referring to wild egg-laying animals who don't care for their young, though occasionally Wairre is used for "sires" specifically.

"Mwaow" is what Swansong feels is most fitting for his sire, Rippleclaw. Breezepelt wants to be extra insulting and call Crowfeather a "Wairre" sometimes.

To call your Ba a Mwaow is very insulting, and a rejection of them as your parent. Likewise, it is insulting to say that a cat's Mwaow is their Ba if they don't feel that way.

And finally, the term for Honor Sire in Clanmew is Kurruaow. Honor-Parent. They make no distinction between dams and sires in Clanmew.

To summarize;

Gan = Kin/Blood

Nyams = Kin/Family

Mi = Primary parent

Ba = Secondary parent

Mwaow = Biological parent, neutral but non-endearing

Wairre = Biological sire, used mostly for animals

Kurruaow = Honor Sire/Dam/Parent

AUNCLES AND COUSINS

What about the sisters and brothers of your parents? Their kids?

There are Mi-Auncles, Ba-Auncles, and First Cousins. Further than that is just thrown under Gan, if at all.

Myami = Mi-Auncle

Byama = Ba-Auncle

Rabir = Cousin

SIBLINGS

Multiple-births are very common to Clan cats, and furthermore, multiple litters are seen often. Defining your place within your parent's litters is very important socially!

So, in addition to having words for an older or younger litter of siblings, there are also words for your size within your own litter. Clanmew is more concerned if you were a large kitten or a runt than your birth order, but this could be crudely compared to the human concept of older and younger siblings!

This is an important concept because size growing up would mean you had the upper paw in brawls, to your suckler's milk, and were considered the 'most mature.' Runts are considered to need more protection and 'babying.'

If there was a situation where two littermates were equally sized, they often squabble over who was really the bigger sibling. This doesn't relate to adult size-- Fallenleaf was the largest of her litter, but Lionblaze is bigger than her now.

Firra = Siblings (Broad term, often assumed to be innately plural and referring to several types of siblings at once)

Kafrrif = Sibling of older litter

Eefrri = Sibling of younger litter

Wifeerr = Littermate

Wikfrra = Larger littermate

Weesfwa = Smaller littermate

OFFSPRING

A baby cat, referred to as a 'kit' or 'kitten' is simply called a "mew." But that's not typically the word they're using when they're talking about their children. There's also additional words in Clanmew for the children of different litters, and how an auncle refers to their sibling's kittens.

Nia'u = Child/son/daughter

Neewarr = Litter

Niak = Child of first litter

Niawi = Child of second litter

Nia'eef = Child of third/any more litters

Rabnif = Nespring/nephew/niece

Niauga = Grandchild (of child you were the Ba of)

Nini = Grandchild (of child you were the Mi of, can be given for closeness)

Kurrnia = Stolen kit, rightfully won through battle (Archaic)

GRANDPARENTS

Garrmwa = Ancestor (For non-ancient ancestors that can still be tracked with deduction. Great grandparents, not Thunderstar.)

Sharrarram = Ancestors (For ancient ancestors, far beyond modern memory, who live in the stars. Thunderstar.)

Ami = Mi of my Mi (This can also be applied as a term of endearment. For example, Heartstar is the Ba of her kittens, but Tawnypelt is still Shadowsight's Sharrmi)

Garrmi = Ba of my Mi AND/OR Mi of my Ba (Like Ami, can denote a type of closeness.)

Genrrarg = Ba of my Ba/Someone who is still a grandparent, but not a close one. (This is the term that Breezepelt's kittens eventually use for Crowfeather)

Shegarra = Descendant (For the sake of completion; typically used by StarClan)

[r3ynah]

Yoo, same

Kon stood nervously beside the shut front door of his family home (which was currently empty due to every single family member of his were busy), he fiddled with his fingers, his senses seemingly becoming more and more sensitive as time went on, glancing up at the grandfather clock Mr. Bruce Wayne gifted to them every so often.

This was the day, the day Kon will tell his first ever long time 'normal' best friend his secret, finally after so many years he could really free himself from the guilt of lying and hiding his identity to Dani, he imagines the hilarious shocked face Dani will make when Kon tells her his Super boy, and how excited she will be not even sparing him a minute to answer her dozens of questions, Kon chuckled to himself as the idea swam in his mind.

But his chuckles, were stopped as a thought floated up in his head 'What if it'll be the other way? what if she'll never talk to me ever again?' Kon silently thought as he tapped his foot overwhelmed by the thought of his best friend not seeing him as a regular human being anymore and just a clone freak, he didn't want that the black hair blue-eyed girl despite her features was not part of the Wayne family, which shocked Kon upon their first meeting due to the fact Dani also lived in Gotham.

But Kon found out soon enough that Dani lived with her older siblings, a cool older sister named Jazz, Jazz had red hair, but her smile was the same as Dani's, and an odd older brother who Kon thought at first was her Twin brother, it didn't help that their names was also very similar Dani having an i, while her older brother Danny had a Y, they were cool people, Kon would like to hang out with them more often, but that'll will only happen if Dani still sees Kon as Kon after this discussion.

But is it all worth it? to just reveal it his life, his identity? after all Dani was the only time Kon ever felt normal, he wanted to be happy, he wanted to be understood, he wanted to be normal, he wanted to be selfish, he wanted Dani.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door which startles him greatly, he knows who's at the opposite of door, after all only one person can ever go sneak up on him a surprise him to death, 'Dani' was the only thing he can think about as he turned the doorknob to open the front door.

And "Dani" was the only thing he breathed out as he faced the girl that stood Infront of him, Dani always liked to put on comfy and edgy clothes that makes people mistake her for a boy if it weren't for her long hair, which Kon realized Dani never cared if she was called the opposite gender she finds it as a compliment, her regular long side bangs that usually resides on the right side of her face was put up with a hair clip, her face was in full view, and even the gods can't fathom on how pretty she was.

She smiled at him with her oddly crooked sharp teeth, and Kon knew he was in danger right there and then, but for the reasons you don't think it is.

"Heya Konnie, what made you call me in like the middle of the semester?" Dani asked as she tilted her head, "Just want to talk with you." Kon stated as he moved to the side to give her room to head in, after letting Dani walked in Kon closed the door behind her.

"Come follow me, let's go to the balcony" Kon said as he grabbed Dani's wrist to drag her where she complied easily and just let Kon do his thing, Kon breathed out the trust Dani had in him, made him want to just breakdown right there in the middle of the living room floor, because he knows that after this there will be a chance Dani won't want to be there to spend the life they had imagined in the past together in the near future.

But he kept himself strong after all there was still the other positive half.

They had reached the balcony in less than 3 minutes, Kon sat silently on one of the sofas placed, Dani following and sitting on the left side, Dani put her head on top of Kon's shoulder, and Kon let's her, Dani took Kon's hands and played with them putting his ring on different fingers, Kon let's her, she tangles her hands with Kon's, and Kon let's her.

"Dani..." Kon let out, Dani hummed in response

"I need to confess to you about something." Kon mumbled, this time Dani looked up at him.

"What is it?" Dani asked, Kon looked down at her, meeting her eyes was hard, did it ever get this suffocating when talking to her in the past?

definitely not. there was no time, place, or event Kon ever felt uncomfortable with her next to him. Kon slowly got onto his knees Infront of Dani making her confused.

"Konnie? why are you kneeling" Dani giggled as she found the scene Infront of her utterly funny but stopped when she saw how serious Kon looked and how his hands that were still holding onto Dani's was trembling. "Kon, are you okay?"

"Danielle, I have been hiding something from you for a very long time, and I can't handle keeping it for much longer" Kon's voice trembled, there was no turning back the consequences can come later, he needs to let this guilty burden out of his chest. he looks up at Dani with her eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes that glinted in worry.

she looks ethereal and only heaven knows on how Kon yearns for his best friend.

"I'm Super boy" Kon uttered out his voice cracking but only slightly.

He yearns to tell her the truth.

"I have been Super boy even before we met"

He yearns for her approval

"Not only that, but I'm also a clone of the one and only Superman"

He yearns for her acceptance

"I'm sorry for lying and hiding my identity from you."

He yearns for her forgiveness

"Dani, I love you so much it hurts." he went quiet his body full of anxiety his knees became weak as he observed any signs of emotion in the black-haired girl's face.

He yearns for her.

And he has a feeling she know it too.

Is this it? everything they worked hard for this friendship disappearing just like that, on this day, here in the balcony? please no, his heart couldn't possibly take that, she wants her beside him, he'll take any route of destiny as long as she stays, even if she turns to despise his very being, he'll take it with no hesitation.

As long as she's with me, everything's worth it.

He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt a pair of hands caressing his face wiping his tears in the process, Dani made him look at her, she smiled at him softly then she opened her mouth and uttered "It's okay I forgive you, thank you for telling me." Dani held him close and let Kon's head rest on her chest. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere, after all any place I'll go will be painstakingly boring without you beside me."

Finally letting go of the mixed emotions that had built inside of him, Kon cried, he cried until his throat became sore and his eyes became red from the tears, and Dani stayed until the very end just like she promised.

PLUS SCENE

Kon laid on the sofa tired and lazily staring at the ceiling, a random cartoon show played from the TV, one of his hands was holding onto to Dani's Hand, as the girl looked focused on the show, Kon let his eyes close for a second succumbing to the peace, until Dani opened her mouth.

"You said earlier that you were a clone, right?" Dani asked her eyes remained on the TV

Kon hummed "yeah why?"

"Yoo, same" Dani laughed, her reply made the exhaustion from Kon's body leave immediately, he sat straight up and his mouth open as he looked at Dani in surprise.

"Excuse me, WHAT??" Kon stated in disbelief, Dani bent over clutching her stomach as she laughed at his reaction.

[brightgoat]

the Cujoh and the Kujo

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “SWEET LIKE NECTAR.”

— #. synopsis. because to whitney, there’s nothing prettier, downright satisfying to gaze upon the rosy cheeks you adopt in response to the invasive questioning, that pride of yours so amusing to patiently chip away at, piece by piece. in fact, if you could, you’d evade it altogether though that would mean defeat, wouldn’t it? and there’s nothing you detest more in this shitty world than to fucking lose.

— #. content warning! step-cest, dub-con, anal fucking, nipple sucking, some light degradation here and there as in the use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ , referring to whitney’s chest as ‘tits’ , big brother whitney being a bitch, loser male reader being an even bigger one in that respect and fuck, did I forget anything else?

— #. word count? 5.2k, if I remember correctly. this is a repost.

— #. something more to say, asher? : “I couldn’t help myself. had to bring back the classic onto here, y’know. ruining whitney’s slutty hole never gets old, specially big brother.”

Moreover, you should’ve probably have expected this one measly question to slip past your older brother’s lips, leering gaze openly taking your conflicted expression in as if taunting you to properly answer. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? ‘Course not, like you could anyway. He’d see right past it like he usually does, testing the waters — he’d call it, laying out the fresh bait for your conscious little self to latch onto immediately.

Because to Whitney, there’s nothing prettier, downright satisfying to gaze upon the rosy cheeks you adopt in response to the invasive questioning, that pride of yours so amusing to patiently chip away at, piece by piece. In fact, if you could, you’d evade it altogether though that would mean defeat, wouldn’t it?

And there’s nothing you detest more in this shitty world than to fucking lose.

Especially to this one bastard. Too damn nosy to discreetly mind his own business, y’know? Always the one to hover too close for comfort, bated breath feathering delicately against the soft skin of your flushed ear, to keep you tightly on edge. Long past that, it’s starting to get on your nerves how self-assured he is in his flawed reasoning, simply since he had you sloppily suck him off once on the worn couch and now, it’s what? Only natural to drag you around like some sort of thoughtless puppy? Shamelessly refer to you as his trained, little bitch who’ll get on his knees for the right price?

Gotta be fucking kidding then.

It was the alcohol. Nothing, but the intoxicating substance drumming along your veins that had you act in such a debauched manner, had your painfully hard cock straining against the front of your pants. Yeah. Right? That’s all there was to it. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what you keep insistently reminding yourself of despite the growing, churning heat in your stomach, the not-so-subtle twitching of your hardening cock stirring beneath your ripped jeans or the individual droplets of sweat gently trickling down the navel of your slouched back. Alright, keep fucking lying to yourself then. Surely that’ll help you with your current predicament that you’ve stuck yourself into, muddied foot deep within the shallow trenches and a solid grasp firmly placed around your ankle, threatening to snap your dignity in half.

“Well?” Visibly irritated by your lack of answer, it’s Whitney’s increasingly impatient, snappy voice that unfortunately draws you back from your spiralling calculations — whether to respond with the humiliating truth or not. Can’t let it go, can he? Hence why he so nonchalantly has you sat on his used bed, the rusted springs hidden beneath the dusty mattress alerting your every subtle movement with a distinct creak reverberating through the thin walls.

“Well, what?” Idiot, you know very damn well what he’s getting at, it’s not like you suffer from some sort of amnesiac disease to utilise cluelessness and have him fooled with such blatant tactics.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Should be wiping that snide, awful smirk that instantly appears on his face as he carelessly articulates the question once more. Shameless in his pursuit, hungrily eyeing you up and down like an untouched piece of meat to greedily feast upon, sink his pearly, white fangs into.

Oh, thank the heavens that you weren’t consuming any sort of liquid right this moment because it would’ve been shot straight out of your throat, maybe your nose even considering the absurd sentence from your very own brother — step-brother, to be exact. Still in denial that you two could potentially call each other family, far too homely of a term than the puzzling relationship you both share. Speaking of, you haven’t replied to his question yet and by the looks of it, he isn’t looking too pleased with you if you were to stretch this on any further than it should be.

“N-No, I’ve actually fucked my fair share of girls.” Oh yeah, he’s definitely believing you with that stuttering, the uncertainty all too evident in your tone that only a complete, utter moron would’ve fallen for it. Fucking liar. It wasn’t as though you were entirely lying though, having indeed fucked a girl before, but does it really count if that same person were to be your younger sister, Kylar? At most, you’ve had your decent amount of experiences with others, dated a few girls here and there which is to be acceptable for the average boy of your age. However, beyond the intimate acts of holding hands and bashful kissing, you remained oblivious to the process of well, sex — save for the over the top, raunchy porn you’d occasionally watch and that sole encounter with Kylar that taught you far more than any cheap film ever could.

So, it’s still reasonable, is it not? Though this is Whitney you’re directly dealing with and you know better than to assume he’d take plain ‘no’ for an answer, often brash in his selfish desires. No, more like every time whenever he does act, it leads up to the very same, repetitive situation you’ve familiarized yourself to. You, beneath him. You, helpless in the face of his cruel actions.

Not this time though — fuck, that nasty, little scheme of yours slowly, but ever so surely lurking within the depths of your working mind, grateful for the blonde’s clear ignorance of the shit you were ready to commit to regain that minuscule shred of dignity back. None the wiser, preferring it’d remain that way.

And he can only sharply scoff back to your half-assed attempt at muttering obvious falsehoods. Too cunning of a bastard and god, does it mess with you. “Bullshit. You think I’d believe that? Fuckin’ cmon, admit it. You’ve never really fucked a girl before, huh?” That sickening, creeping nausea steadily filling the depths of your guts from the way he so arrogantly taunts you through his ‘light-hearted’ insults, inadvertently painting you as some sort of virgin loser that never so much as had the slightest chance of growing affectionate with another woman. Fucked your goddamn sister so that’s a one-up on you, huh? Hell, you know better than to let such an obscene admission escape you — since she’s your sister now too, that innocence you so greedily stripped away that one faithful evening within the four corners of her room.

Rather not indulge in such sinful thoughts at the moment, not when your prolonged silence is only confirming his self-righteous suspicions to which he so stubbornly convinced himself of. Knowing better than to reason with your older brother, it’s merely when you do finally relent with a reluctant nod of your head — still maintaining a thin layer of deceit, mind you — that his smug grin widens considerably in return. “So you’re an unused slut, basically.” Choice of words never was the delinquent’s forte, but his crude, frank vocabulary certainly is as he so eloquently puts it. “Hah — I fuckin’ knew it. Wouldn’t be cumming so quickly if you weren’t.” He huffs back in amusement at the sight of your apparent fluster, always so damn squirmy whenever he playfully pokes fun at one of your concealed insecurities. Oh, you really don’t know the dizzying effect you have on him, do you?

The numerous nights spent lazily fisting the base of his cock underneath the woollen covers placed over his bare, sweating body to at the very least obscure his depraved actions — not that he cared much whether he was scandalously caught or not. Much so, he’d prefer if it were you to coincidentally’ walk in on him mid-jerk off session, land a helping hand to big brother and let him use you however he saw fit. Fuck, yeah. That’d aid him in his ever growing lust for you, borderline animalistic in how he addictively sought you out as expected, like a sweet, sweet drug longing to be taken. A sweet nectar freshly ripe for the taking, plucked free from the gracious buds of the tree to gratefully sink his fangs into and savour the refreshing taste lingering on his tongue.

Feels so right to defile your prudish self, doesn’t it? So, don’t blame him then. Don’t blame him when he suggests— no, coldly orders you to strip off your damn pants which prompts another gaping stare of yours to the sudden command. Handsome, but so, so clueless, aren’t you? Needs to tell you to do everything for your sluggish brain to eventually catch up to his ever approaching rhythm, cocky grin plastered onto his lips signalling that your step-brother is indeed not kidding around as per usual.

“What’re you waitin’ for? I said, strip.” It’s not a gentle reminder nor a well-intentioned push in the right direction, it’s a repeated warning of his thinly veiled frustrations peeking its way through, past the useless restraints he placed onto himself when he could easily be given what he’s wanted. Not without force, though that is in Whitney’s nature to be as rough as possible, having grown accustomed to things going his way whenever he inevitably turned to bloodied brutality. After all, the bully doubts so himself that you don’t furtively desire this all the same too, conflicted movements headed towards the leathered loop of your belt as you willingly comply as tasked to. Good boy, knew you had it in y’a.

“Do I really gotta do this?” If it weren’t for the pretty, pink flush adorning the entirety of your face right now, your older brother would’ve definitely snapped back with a snarky remark of his own, however the sight itself is enough to let him have your dumb self uselessly hope a little further. What does it look like, little brother? Has Whitney ever backtracked on his truthful words?

“Yeah, you gotta cuz’ I told you to. Now just fuckin’ do it already, slut. I don’t got all day.”

“..Fine.” Having fully predicted such a response, heavy shoulders slouching lazily in defeat from the refusal, you shyly carry on with the clumsy strip tease of yours. Can never get your way with him, can y’a?

Goddamn it, shamefully reprimanding yourself for even following suit to his harsh retort though, can you really blame yourself? He’s got you — fucking, trained you like a dog. That’s what it is, a stupid, dumb mutt that can’t help but intrinsically cave in to its depraved instincts as his rightful owner happily taught him to, mindlessly huffing and wagging its fluffy tail to the sugary sweet praise whispered to him. Conditioning you to his every whim as a promising, rewarding treat awaits in exchange for your dutiful obedience, not bothering to keep your remaining underwear either. Big brother knows best, huh? Look at that pitiful expression etched along your features, averting gaze straying away from his piercing own that’s settled precisely on the drooling tip of your fat, twitching cock dribbling out an alarming amount of pre-cum. How you resist the underlying temptation to automatically press your legs together, denying Whitney of that upfront, perverted view of your spread thighs. So damn easy to get you riled up in a matter of seconds when a tight, warm hole is involved in the filthy equation.

As ensured, you’ll receive as you wish, pup. Only natural to fulfill what you so gravely desire when you’ve been so good so far, right? Offer you the bearing fruits of your well-earned efforts in return while you thoughtlessly salivate over the mere idea, yeah?

“Whitney, this is kinda embarrassing..” Kinda? Practically humiliating to display yourself so lewdly like this, however not as if you hadn’t experienced this rarely either in the past few weeks that steadily transpired. Should’ve grown used to it by now, actually. Still, the lingering shyness of brazenly exposing yourself like this was too much to bear at times, especially with the other’s daunting ogling. Really has to unabashedly eye-fuck you every single time or something. It’s.. somewhat flattering to be throughly appreciated like this despite instinctively knowing it’s out of pure, utter objectification.

Aimlessly losing yourself in the middle of your straying thoughts, it’s the recurring shuffling of fabric carelessly being thrown onto the wooden, creaking floor that draws you back to the hazy reality before you. Fuck, a wet dream is a far more suitable term with how this is stereotypically playing out, the confident, sure movements of your older brother’s calloused hands busying themselves with the hem of his waistband and — oh, he’s surely tugging his sweats down, okay. His.. fucking dick, god — how didn’t you conveniently notice how rock hard his cock was beneath that cotton thin material? Leaving you to breathlessly gawk at the free view of Whitney’s drooling tip roughly smacking against the tensed muscles of his stomach, briefly connecting strings of pre-cum to meld with his cooling sweat. Retaking that relaxed, slouched position along the single bed as if he isn’t currently stark naked in front of your unmoving eyes. That distracting to you, huh? Horny mutt.

“Like what you see, slut?” That fucking conceited tone of his makes you want to respond with anything but an affirmative yes, though through the thick lump you swallow down your throat, it’s the muted nod of your head that further serves him to grin widely in satisfaction. Wanna prove him wrong so badly, so damn so. Yet, how can you when he’s shown you all the reasons not to?

Should’ve been paying closer attention then, baby brother. How your brain immediately shuts off in a haze of confusion, numbing static prickling at your empty mind once the blonde instead settles himself comfortably onto your awaiting lap. “Fuckin’ nice seat.” Would’ve been a more comedic remark if it weren’t for the provoking press of his bare ass flush against your pulsing cock, questionably twitching in approval from the brief physical contact. Christ, get a grip on yourself, you moron but, oh — Fuck. You could just.. fucking slip it in and it wouldn’t hurt to let Whitney take the lead as predicted, greedily relish in the slippery warmth fervently welcoming you? Since at the end of the day, you’re just a man, no? A simple man with stupidly horny urges and needs to gratefully sink his cock into the nearest wet hole that merely happens to be his big brother’s whorish one.

Still, that portion of your mind beckons you to reason along with the weirdly alluring pull of plainly muttering out fuck it, shove it in and— and, do the nastiest shit possible, y’know? Yeah, you should do it. Actually, no. No way in fucking hell should you proceed with it. Uselessly humping your hips upwards with a sickening jolt that draws a relieving sigh from the both of you. Stop it, you pervert. You’ve become no better than him, have you?

“W-What’re you doing..?” Is all you can pathetically muster to his blatantly obvious actions, knowing full well what he’s truly doing. Riling you up. Teasing along the edges of your withering limits till it collapses fully onto the ground. It’s what he does best, driving you insane on the daily from school, to outside, to home and his room you frequently pay visits to at night.

“What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m about to fuck your cute cock, pretty boy.” Pretty. Ah, that shouldn’t be your main focus with how he announces it so casually, essentially admitting he’s planning to ride you. Struggling to grasp onto the foreign concept of him, well— being on the receiving end of sex. Doesn’t he like, usually prefer to be the one in the dominant position? In fact, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had selfishly decided to fuck your ass next, fill it to the brim with his seed. Yet, here he is, contently rubbing himself on your flushed, oozing tip, swearing gently as it barely grazes his puckered hole, thoughtlessly clenching around practically nothing. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this to stake my claim on you, alright? Not fuckin’ fair if some bitch gets to fuck your virgin dick first so, hah— I’m making you into a proper slut. My slut.”

Very convincing, Whitney. Not so much so when he’s shuddering eagerly above you like a man about to be given the slightest taste of heaven itself, namely your cock it seems. Hot. Shit, it is a pretty hot sight, you’ve gotta admit.

So, is this purely a flimsy excuse of his to fuck himself stupid on your dick? Need that much to blindly persuade you he isn’t some sort of drooling cockwhore deep down? Nice try, big brother. Well, you can effortlessly see through his nonchalant act, the barely discernible, rosy flush dusting along his cheeks confirming his secretive, depraved and filthy desires simmering deeply within his core.

“Fuckin’ — ah, help me put it in already.” The resounding gasp escaping him is so breathy, so unlike the dominant, assertive Whitney you’ve familiarized yourself with that your lethargic brain hardly registers his direct order, sounding more like a frantic plea than anything else. Put it in? The little, stuck-up bastard is having difficulty sliding it in, resorting to your aid to lend a helping hand to his futile struggles? That’s cute. The indiscernable trace of a smirk beginning to form onto your lips from his uncharacteristically submissive demeanour, still withholding a decent amount of control in this situation here. Ah, what’re you even saying? He’s given you full leverage to wreck his tight, little hole as you happily please, fuck yourself deeper in that wet warmth you’ve been subconsciously seeking out. You’re the one cupping him within the palm of your hand, oddly contented with this newfound revelation, this switch of power dynamics.

“Can’t you put it in yourself then. It’s not that hard, is it? You’re the one always wanting to everything so I think it’s only fair you do it.” Indulging in the scowl that appears shortly on his straining features only to dissolve under another one of his tough exteriors. “Fuck, you want me to? Can’t put it in yourself, huh?” He counters snidely, grasping for the bottle of lube conveniently placed on the night dresser nearby, accompanied by barking out a sharp huff of laughter as you cuss out loud a fuck! from the cooling, sticky mixture squirted plainly onto your cock.

“Shit! That’s cold! Why’d you pour it on me? Aren’t you supposed to put it in your— y’know? Your—“ Pausing bashfully in your tracks, immaturity running so deeply you couldn’t even properly stammer out the term if you wished to.

“My what? My ass? I’m not putting that in there, I can fuck myself on your cock just fine without that crap.” Lewd. That’s so lewd how he outwardly states it, blazing face hidden behind your cupped palms as though such a gesture would make this alright, make whatever he’s doing — smoothly grinding on the tip of your lubed, quivering length, how his hole teasingly snatches onto your flushed, leaking cock head only to disappointingly let go again. Fuck, fuck — Fuck. Doing this on purpose, isn’t he? Intent on driving you mad before he even manages to shove it in.

But, as previously stated before, there’s nothing you hate more than to lose, don’t you?

Really, he should be the one blaming himself for your rash and impulsive movements, shouldn’t be letting out that surprised yelp, silenced by a high-pitched gasp as you finally have had enough of his provoking mockery to mutter out a sharp fuck it and drive your increasingly impatient cock right in. Head stupidly thrown back in sheer shock from the unfamiliar yet admittedly pleasurable sensation of having his tight, virgin hole stuffed full of your cock right about now. Clear outline of your entire length pulsing deep within him by the noticeable quivering of his toned tummy, which you don’t hesitate to firmly plant your palm against to draw another satisfying, strangled whimper past his lips. Whore.

“Ah, fucking shit— You’re so fucking tight. Relax a bit for me or I can’t move.” Might as well be snapping your dick in half from the unbearable clenching of his unused insides, warm insides that you’re pervertedly staining white with every glide of your forceful thrusts, every harsh slam of your hips against his ass. Can’t stop yourself though — God, no. Not when the addictive heat of his hole envelops you so damn fucking well, rendering you both to mindlessly cling onto each other, entangled bodies slick with hot sweat trickling steadily down the navel of your arched backs. Namely his. And oh, he really does feel so good. Never mind all the shit he’s done, the stingy tugs of his fists deep within your messied hair, urging you to fuck yourself deeper into his trembling frame. This is the sweet taste of revenge you’ll so dearly savour, hungrily imprinting every choked moan to memory for later reminiscing.

Isn’t he so cute too? Tightening fingertips digging harshly into your shoulders for proper stability, an immediate roll of his eyes to the back of his skull whenever you angle your hips to hit that overly sensitive spot that sends a sickening jolt up his spine. Bound to be leaving marks, though that’s the least of your concerns with how goddamn pretty he looks when fucked stupid, fucked utterly brainless to match the feverish haze of his glazed over eyes. “See? I think you secretly enjoy it, Whitney. I think you— hah, fuck — enjoy that I’m taking the lead for once. ‘S that it? You like havin’ my cock inside you, huh? Like it when your little brother fucks you?” No matter how many times he may blatantly refuse and deny it, through the clawing of his nails, etching bloodied scars into your back that are sure to reside in your skin later on— You fucking know by the squeeze of his slutty hole, ring of cream having settled nicely around the base of your cock.

“F-Fuckin’—“ Big brother having trouble speaking? “Bastard, shut— ah! up!” The pitiful whine echoing deeply from his throat almost makes you want to cease your endless blabbering, but y’know what? Fuck that. May as well endure the severe consequences of his actions, from the second you had arrived here, it was bound to end solely in one conclusion. You, balls deep in his ass. You, stupidly drunk off the mere act of ruthlessly fucking your older brother cuz’ shit, does it feel so amazingly good. “If you keep looking at me like that, it only— hah, makes things harder for me here. God, Whitney.. Don’t fucking stop squeezing me, ‘kay?” Not really doing any better than him either, any semblance of control within you possibly thrown out the window with every pleasurable stroke of your cock being sucked so sloppily by his stretched out hole. One thing the delinquent was right about — You being the equivalent of a dumb mutt. A dumb, drooling mutt huffing over his bare chest, depraved instincts kicking in to suck on whatever happens to be nearest and that consequently leads to your dazed gaze zeroing in on his swollen nipples.

Pretty, so fucking pretty. It’s not fair.

Deserving of every torturous inch his tight hole greedily swallows up, the sight of his neglected, puffy nipples almost too much to bear for your watering mouth.

A little taste wouldn’t hurt, would it?

How careless of you to overlook such an area that so desperately needs your loving attention too. Bad little brother you are for that, huh? “Promise to make you feel so good.” Sighing out a guttural groan as the softened pad of your thumbs find home to idly flick at the erect glands, eliciting another strangled curse from the delinquent once again. Sensitive here, isn’t he? “Shit.. Every time I touch your tits here, you tighten up like crazy, hah. Want me to suck on ‘em too?” It’s more of a fervent heads up for your upcoming actions than a polite request, pink tongue curiously poking out to glide along the sheen of sweat settled thickly on the rosy buds. “M-Motherfucker.. Don’t you fuckin’ dare— hmph!” Hastily cut off by the palm of his own hand clasped upon his mouth, he can’t help but to cave in at your perverted antics, specifically that weird obsession of yours with his chest or tits as you so obscenely call ‘em. Shivering lightly at the rhythmic lapping at his nipples which is soon followed by the roll of your tongue against the sensitive flesh, fully latching onto on of them to appreciatively suckle on. The things you do to him, a full on body shock simply from having his pretty tits toyed with, his nipples coyly sucked on by the moist engulf of your warm mouth. “W—What?? Stop, ah, that!” How the fuck do you get to him like this every damn time?

And why the hell does it have to feel so fuckin’ good too?

Screw you, really.

Having managed to get past his carefully placed barriers he put upon himself, a means of protection for his fragile pride that you so selfishly tear away. Because it’s fun to, an absolute power rush to intently observe your slutty older brother fall apart on your fat cock, split his ass open while you’re at it. Teary eyes threatening to spill free more droplets down the length of his scarlet cheeks, bitten lips oozing fresh blood from your nipping teeth and tongue to gently suckle at as a well-deserved reward. Golden locks becoming increasingly more disheveled from every bounce on your cock, the guidance of your hands locked firmly onto his hips to witness the disappearance and reemergence of your leaking tip to reach that one single spot deep inside him.

And it’s real adorable when you draw your hips further only to be halted by the weight of his legs wrapped securely around your waist to prevent you from pulling all the way out, so stubbornly too. “Oh, want me to cum inside?” The derisive pitch of your laughter has the blonde simmering in his humiliating position, too caught up in the intoxicating pleasure of being fucked so mercilessly like this to bother uttering out a curse of denial. Fangs bared, seething glare shot solely towards you, its you. Of course, it’s you who has the final say, the upper hand regardless. As always. “I-I swear to fuckin’ god, if you pull out now— I’m going to fucking kill you, asshole.” He threatens as per usual, but the shaky incoherence of his speech riddled with whiny moans discredits his shitty attempt at intimidation, coaxing you to readily follow suit to his orders.

Ah, look at him. Fucking bitch in heat.

Can’t say no to that face, can you?

“Wasn’t planning on it anyway, Whitney.” You mutter out soothingly in the shell of his ear, slightly unsettled by the softening tone you’ve taken on to address him. Is it due to the pathetic appearance he’s took on from your relentless bullying? ‘S not fair he gets to look all cute and pouty while you’re struggling to keep up here, stuttering hips clumsily humping forward to make up for the messy pace because ah— fuck, you’re nearing your fill and so is Whitney, by the looks of it. “You can’t—“ Cutting himself off in a soundless gasp as your balls heavily smack against his ass, mind gone completely blank from the sheer euphoria of having his hole filled to the brim. Can’t? Sure, he can handle just a little more, can’t he? Cmon, he can do better than that. Drool dripping freely from his parted lips for yours to plant sloppy kisses against, stifling his open moans. Drawing your hips one last time to relish in the tight warmth of his wet insides— really, you’ll miss it, fuck— you barely get to process the thick ropes of cum spurting out of his bobbing cock, accompanied by your own climax shortly after. “S-Sorry, oh my god— I’m so sorry, you feel too good. I can’t—“ You sputter out uselessly, a hollow excuse when you continue on with your sloppy thrusts, burying yourself to the hilt to shoot your thick load into. Staining his walls white with your seed since your hips can’t stop themselves from fucking your cum deeper till the both of you tirelessly settle down in a heap of bodies on the creaking mattress.

Alright, so maybe you did end up going a tad bit too far this time, but it’s not like he didn’t ask for it. Or so you mumble to yourself to soothe your ever growing worries of where this may lead after the shortly lived, euphoric high you’ve just experienced. Nervously lifting your gaze to seek his as you’re greeted with.. ah, it seems you did fuck up. If anything, you’ve dug yourself a hole so steep you couldn’t possibly climb out of it now. Okay, he looks pissed. Doesn’t mean you don’t have time to mend things, right between the two of you, right? It’s as you finally muster up a foolish smile to meet his sour expression, that his frown significantly deepens in return.

“..So, uh. Did you like it?”

You’ve got a death wish, don’t you?

Should’ve probably expected this one. The shockingly loud slam of the wooden door closed shut on your face, promptly interrupting your frantic pleas and apologies. Heaps of dirty clothes thrown right into your arms for you to awkwardly pick up from the floor soon after. “Whitney, don’t be like that. Whitney, c’mon. I’m sorry—“ You’re not actually all that sorry, it’s just he looks too cute when angry, really.

“Fuck off!!”

Stubborn as ever, huh? At least, you’ve got to imprint those slutty sounds to memory for later use, having gotten your answer to leave him be for the time being. And oh, glancing down to be met with the sight of your still-hard, neglected cock tented pitifully against the front of your jeans. Seriously? Didn’t you just cum too?

..Well, you’ve always got the bathroom to take care of that.

[incorrectbatfam]

Concept:

A workplace sitcom (a la B99 or The Office) that takes place at Wayne Enterprises. The plot centers around a bunch of people who are nobodies in the superhero world. There are still references to heroes and the batfam makes the occasional cameo. But all of that is secondary to Ryan from the help desk missing an important call to eavesdrop on Jamie from sales meeting with an attractive client because the main character of these shows is always a 30-year-old with ADHD who can't communicate feelings to save the world

EDIT: Yes I know about Powerless. I could do it better and not get canceled after 1 season though