(set: $nameGF to (prompt: "What is your girlfriend's name?", "Muse"))
(set: $nameYou to (prompt: "What is your name?", "Anon"))
(set: $nameBully to (prompt: "What is the bully's name?", "Ken"))
Your girlfriend, $nameGF, is somewhat unhinged. In a good way, of course, she is your girlfriend after all. But something about her has always been //off//.
The way she knew your name before you even managed to introduce yourself? How she waited for you every morning so you could go to school together, always able to find you even if you took another route? That chance meeting while you were on a family vacation? Her staring at your sleeping face for hours every time you sleep at her place?
Her confession was cute, however, traditional even. A love letter calling you to a meeting behind the school.
You thought it was a punishment game at first. No way such a cute girl would go for a guy like you, right?f
Her love proved to be earnest, however. Handmade lunchboxes, tutoring to save your grades, supporting your dreams of becoming an artist. With her unconditional love school was bearable. Of course the bullying never really stopped, but it hurt less, knowing that you had someone at your side. You even managed to graduate, thanks to her.
In the end you never got into college, but that’s fine isn’t it? Your art sells, slowly, but enough to support your lifestyle and to claim independence from your parents. The single-room apartment might not be big enough for two people, but neither do you spend much time there except to paint or sleep anyway. Most of your time is spent at the atelier or at your girlfriend's place.
But of course happiness doesn’t last forever, why would it? There has to be some sadness to balance it out. So right now you are standing in front of your former highschool bully, $nameBully. By some cruel chance of fate he has found the [[atelier|Invaded]] you are renting out with a handful of other artists and art-students.
(set: $blood to false)
(set: $painting to false)
(set: $Heart to false)
(set: $Musings to false)
(set: $Judgement to false)
(set: $Fool to false)
(set: $DisLove to false)
(set: $lovydovy to 0)
(set: $sociopath to 0)“$nameYou! You’re late, I was waiting for you for so long. I thought about cooking dinner but you weren’t here…”
Her voice trails off as she spots the bruises on your face. The warmth in her eyes extinguishes.
“Who did this to you?”
There is no use in lying. You tell her it was $nameBully.
$nameGF's hands are suddenly under your clothing. You are stripped in a matter of seconds and ushered into the bath. A minute later she is right behind you, washing your back. The gentle pressure makes you wince every time she passes over one of the bruises. You are unsure how to proceed from here and the silence grows oppressive.
The last time she chose to deal with your bullies the police were sent to their parent’s home, holding photographic and text-message evidence. The physical bullying ceased, but you mostly dropped out of school anyway, only reappearing to take the exams.
But this time? You have not seen her look like that in a long time. Were you thinking that she would grow out of that phase? Did you really think it would just be a phase?
“$nameYou … this is horrible.”
$nameGF whispers and hugs you from behind. Her soft chest caresses your back while she rests her chin on your shoulder. Your lips brush against each other.
“Want me to cheer you up?”
Her hug loosens so she can let her hands wander over your body.
[[You nod and lean back into her.|Murderer I]]
[[You stop her hands.|Idle Time]]
Her hands fully close around you while you keep kissing. It has always been like this. Everytime you get hurt she is there to catch you. To build you up until you can face the outside world again.
You do it in the bathtub, on the floor, under the covers. Her sweet moans flow into your ear while you try to bury yourself inside her. Forgetting insult and injury you can finally let go and just //be//.
Afterwards you lie on the bed, breathing hard, trying to ward off unconsciousness. Her fingers find yours and she holds you. Just as you fall asleep you can feel [[her hand|Murderer II]] leaving your own.Her body sags onto yours and she leans in for more kisses.
“Aww~ Then we’ll just cuddle~ Hey, wanna bathe together? Or would you rather eat?”
Your stomach answers before your mouth can even form a word.
“Ooh~ that’s a yes. Just soak for a bit, alright?”
Warmth, love and food. Truly, bliss right on your doorstep. The rest of the evening goes by in a flash, with $nameGF being extra affectionate. She even sleeps over in your small bed, demanding that you put away the extra futon.
“Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?”
You were supposed to finish your painting for an exhibition, but now that it was torn apart? A free schedule. The temptation of being able to slack around and not care for a while is so intoxicating that you shake your head. Sleep in, eat, chat with your girlfriend, have sex, sleep again. What a life.
$nameGF hugs you closer, burying your face into her chest. Enveloped by such softness you easily doze off while [[listening|End of Days]] to her heartbeat.
Time heals all wounds, as they say. As does a scenery change, probably. $nameGF invited you to stay over at her apartment. A high-rise condo with thick walls and a good view. You never asked too much about her financial situation, but you always had a hunch that she had way more money than you. Well, she does study at a prestigious university, meanwhile you are a dropout artist.
One room of her condo was completely empty, so she offered it to you as a personal atelier. More space for paintings, better lighting and you’d be living together. She tried to offer you lots of times before, but you had always declined. Misplaced pride, perhaps? Or were you just crippled by your own feelings of inadequacy?
A gentle hand brushes against your face, rousing you from your slumber. Her hair falls down like a curtain onto your face.
“I’m back $nameYou.”
“Welcome back.”
Your lips touch. She smells like flowers, mint and tobacco.
“How was your day?”
“Sleepy… But I made a lot of progress.”
She smiles and leans in again for another kiss. This one is longer and more passionate.
“I have a get-together tonight. I’ve already cooked for you.”
You nod, holding her palm to your face.
“Have fun.”
“Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open~"
"I'll stay awake long enough to welcome you back."
One last kiss and she is off, again. Leaving you to your own devices.
Progress is slow today, the manic rush that drove you yesterday has completely evaporated. Instead of painting you spend your time agonizing over hues and the way your brushstrokes look. Too thick where it should be thin, too bold when subtlety is called for. Too much here, too little there. Truly, you are your own worst enemy.
The front door slamming shut drags you out of your downtrodden ritual of criticism. Hurried steps rush down the hallway.
You leave the atelier to [[greet|Return]] $nameGF.$nameBully got taller and more muscular since the last time you saw him, but his mind is still bent on torturing you. The current painting you were working on, the backshot of a woman, is balanced on his thigh, barely held up with his hand.
“Oh boy … never imagined you’d continue this stuff. Hmm ... she seems familiar. Is it your girlfriend? The one who called the police on me? What was her name again? $nameGF, wasn’t it? You won’t answer me? Your silence means yes, then! Man, she really became beautiful…”
Hearing another man, this man, talk about $nameGF like that twists your guts. You do your best to not let it show.
“Hmm.. I thought about joining the tennis-club since one of my upper-classmen could recommend me. Or to run through the manga-research club, but maybe I’ll just take over your little circle of artists? What do you say, huh?”
A downfall caused by your own hubris. The arrogance! Wanting to reveal the painting of your girlfriend to the world.
“Give it back.”
The rush of your own blood threatens to deafen all reason.
“Come on, man …. get some new material. Give it back, give it back. This shit is getting boring. Here, you can have half of it.”
$nameBully’s arms flex and the canvas rips. Before you know it you are already on him, trying to save your painting.
“What the-? You fucking bitch!”
You can not see what hit you, but the pain is immediate and paralyzing. Once your vision clears you find yourself on the ground.
“Motherfucker, of all times to man up you had to do it on the day I wore my best shirt? Shit’s ripped now, fuck!”
His boot lands on your body, but the pain is bearable. Your painting is back with you. Just another beating, just like old times.
In the end $nameBully loses interest as you lie there, taciturn and still. A sense of accomplishment floods you while you look at your painting. It has been torn apart, but that can be fixed. Some of your blood is splattered on the canvas.
|Choice1>[The blood adds an interesting contrast, so you let it be.]|NotChoice>[
]|Choice2>[It is already drying, you will have to look up how to properly remove it later.]
(click: ?Choice1)[You hurriedly pack up your painting and [[leave|Doorstep]] the atelier. (replace: ?NotChoice)[](replace: ?Choice2)[]
](click: ?Choice2)[You hurriedly pack up your painting and [[leave|Døørstep]] the atelier.(replace: ?Choice1)[](replace: ?Notchoice)[]]At your doorstep you spot $nameGF’s shoes. Were you supposed to meet today? Did you completely forget about a date? The light is burning inside the living room. You put down the bundle that used to be your painting and skulk through your own hallway, trying to not make too much noise. You put in the effort, but the bruises on your body demand more of your attention and you stumble headfirst into the living room. While falling you spot $nameGF, she is sleeping on the bed.
You end up knocking over an easel and a small folding chair. The noise wakes her up [[instantly|Bruised]] and she spots you lying on the ground.
(set: $blood to true)At your doorstep you spot $nameGF’s shoes. Oh no, were you supposed to meet today? Did you completely forget about a date? The light is burning inside the living room. You put down the bundle that used to be your painting and skulk through your own hallway, trying to not make too much noise. Nice effort, but the bruises on your body demand more of your attention and you stumble headfirst into the living room. While falling you spot $nameGF, she is sleeping on the bed.
You end up knocking over an easel and a small folding chair. The noise wakes her up instantly and she spots [[you|Bruised]] lying on the ground.
The hallway is empty, low heels are lying on the ground alongside a coat. Something must be off, $nameGF is usually more careful with her belongings. You clean up after her before you continue to look around.
From the sound of running water she must be in the [[bath|Dirty]].
"Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty..."
$nameGF is chanting it like a mantra while frantically washing her hands. Things like this have happened before, but you never pried.
(link-reveal: "(colour: #3680ec)[You knock on the door.]") [
Her face shoots up, her eyes finding your reflection in the mirror. Her expression is rather unsettling. She looks like a child, caught red-handed doing //something//.
"O-oh."
She is absolutely rattled. Now is the time to show that you are a dependable boyfriend.
"Hey ... what's going on? Are you ok?"
$nameGF turns around as you approach her with open arms. She lets the hug happen. Her breathing calms down after a while.
"$nameYou, I need to talk to you about something."
She breaks loose from the hug and goes towards the [[living room|Secrets]].
]2 Choice tool
|Choice1>[Text of choice 1.]|NotChoice>[
]|Choice2>[Text of choice 2.]
(click: ?Choice1)[Display Text of Choice 1.(replace: ?NotChoice)[](replace: ?Choice2)[]
](click: ?Choice2)[Display Text of Choice 2.(replace: ?Choice1)[](replace: ?Notchoice)[]]
(link-reveal: "Text") [ and the revealed text]
(link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[_]")[]
(colour: #) []
(colour: #FFD700) []
(colour: #3680ec) []
(colour: #000000) []
(colour: #0dbb08) [The Legatus]
(colour: #7f16cd) [Hesi]
(colour: #fff289) [Aeliana]
(colour: #9b1a1a) [The Flagellant]
(colour: #000000) []
(if: $variable is true)[
text
]
(else:)[
text
]For two days afterwards you don't see $nameGF. On the third day she returns, smiling, but her eyes remain cold, glacial even.
(if: $painting is true)[
You look at each other. You can see a thick red fluid still dripping from her clothes. Clinging onto her shoes, leaving prints on the floor.
"I'm back $nameYou."
"Welcome back, $nameGF."
Her hand moves and something falls to the ground. It's a bloodied knife.
"I killed him. And I killed my younger self. The one who was weak. I killed the self that was not strong enough to protect you. Not strong enough to support you when you most needed her."
The unyielding girl you fell in love with has been reduced to a crying mess. You tell yourself to not go to her, but there is no way you could perform such cruelty. So you hold her. Until she stops crying. Until the police [[arrives|Musings]].]
(else:)["It is done~"
"Welcome back."
You move in for a hug just to find her clothes wet. As you pull away there are red imprints on you. The smell is metallic, just like //iron//.
What has she done?
"I have exterminated him."
$nameGF states plainly and throws herself around your neck. The cloying smell of blood thick around her.
"I'm sorry, I really took my time. He was begging and screaming for mercy. But you know what I told him? Mercy is for humans. Animals deserve no mercy. So I slaughtered him after I was done with his //pack//. Beasts clothed in human flesh. How dare they touch you? How dare they? How dare they? How dare they? How dare they?"
Your mind is reeling. Who?
Of course you know who she is talking about. Are you just in denial?
"$nameBully?"
"Ye~es [[<3]]"]In the end $nameGF got caught. Multiple homicides, and in their own home as well? Not something the police would overlook.
The story made national headlines as well. Her testimony protected you of all legal persecution, somehow. She testified that she did it because she wanted to do it, no motive except for bloodlust and that $nameBully’s family was just unlucky. It could have been anyone.
You still remember her face, smiling and waving to you as she was led into prison. Death row inmate. You would never see her [[again|Index]].
(set: $Heart to true)You follow $nameGF and she motions to sit next to her on the couch. You oblige and she pulls out her (link-reveal:"phone\.")[
"... I had been interested in you for a long time. The bullying you were subjected to at school also hurt me. So I tried my best to help you, but in the end, I was too weak back then."
$nameGF opens an album and hands the phone to you. It contains four pictures. You open them. And promptly wish you had not.
You do not understand. What could there be to understand?
In the pictures $nameGF is in her old school uniform, and she is sucking on a dick. One with her hand covering her eyes, one glaring at the camera, two with semen plastered all over her face.
"You ... with whom?"
"$nameBully."
"Why?"
$nameGF leans into you and embraces your arm.
"I had to make the bullying stop somehow. So I confronted him, told him to stop. But I was too naive, so he just used me in the end and kept bullying you. Afterwards I stole his phone and sent the pictures to myself so I could go to the police. Today we met again. By chance! He threatened me that he'd show you these pictures if I didn't do it with him again."
Your stomach turns and you dry-heave. The delusions your mind conjures are too vivid, too distorted to fit the image $nameGF occupies. She holds you in her arms. The warmth of her body feels distant.
"I did it for you. I did it out of love. Thinking of you and only you."
She whispers into your ear.
Is she trying to convince you, or herself?
It's too much. You remove yourself from her hug and go towards the [[atelier|The Pain(ting)]].
You ask her if there is [[more|Morbid Curiosity]].]The door locks and you are alone, at last.
The smell of paint calms you down and allows you to focus. Since time immemorial artists have turned their pain into fuel for their own creations. And why should it be different this time?
The paper of the bundle falls away, revealing the bloodied canvas. Brown stains mark the fabric, the liquid having long since dried. You remove the wood and glue the shredded pieces back together onto a bigger canvas. Arms moving like they are not your own, your eyes watching, seeing, but your mind? Are you trying to understand anything?
Or are you just fleeing?
Fleeing from the idol you have built from your image of $nameGF?
Fleeing from the dread you feel at your own erection?
(if: $blood is true)[
You stare at your own dried blood. The droplets cover the [[face|Iconoclasm]] of the woman on the canvas.
]
(else:)[
Not answering [[//"me"//|Proof of Love]], huh?
]Good job, that question seems to have caught her by surprise.
"M-more?"
You nod. The tightness in your chest only grows, leaving you short of breath, panting even. You remain your own worst enemy in the end. Stoking the flames of your own desire and perversion.
"There is no more."
$nameGF finally answers and gets even closer to you. Her knee brushes against your crotch and she recoils. You twitch as well.
Oh no.
Both of you stare at your [[erection|Perversion]].There's shouting coming from beyond the door. Begging. Pleading. Words without discernible meaning. Your mind is full. So full of //her//. The brush moves as if possessed. Your body forgoes food and water just to see the painting completed. Every stroke happens just as you imagine it. Every line falls into place perfectly. The old canvas further disappears behind more and more layers of paint until only the woman is left. Facing the viewer, baring herself to the world with her grand and terrible beauty.
Only then do you finally open the door.
$nameGF is sitting on the ground, hugging her knees. Her eyes are following your every move.
Uneaten food has been placed around the door. You bow down and pick up a sandwich.
"Come and look."
Roused by your words she springs into motion and rushes to your side. Her arms hug you with abnormal strength, as if she is trying to prevent you from disappearing. You gently lead her into the room to show her the painting. The rising sun throws just the right shade of blue onto the canvas.
$nameGF is looking. Looking and crying. She sinks down to your feet, still clinging to your leg.
"I made this. It's for [[you|Murderer II]]."
Her wailing echoes off the walls.
(set: $painting to true)
“Is this turning you on?”
$nameGF asks and straddles you. Pinning you to the couch as if she is demanding answers. Your eyes are still firmly glued to her phone screen. The bright pictures burning themselves into your memory.
Such pain, such suffering! But why then, why is it so sweet as well?
You look up at her. Her eyes are pools of darkness, framed by slightly swollen and red eyelids. Then you realize, it is because of //her//.
You begin to speak. Once, twice, every time your mouth opens $nameGF’s eyes light up. Finally you manage to vocalize.
"Yes."
Her face hovers millimeters in front of you. The depth of her eyes transfixing you.
"Why?"
A terrible realization surfaces in your mind.
"Seeing other men having their way with you ... it makes me so unbelievably [[aroused|Betrayer]]."
"You were beautiful. You still are [[beautiful|Inspiration]]."
Muse
[[Prologue]]
Your girlfriend is a yandere.
You are an artist, a painter.
(link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[_]")[Not loving her leads to bad ends.]
(link-reveal: "Spoiler: Fast routes.") [ Choose these decisions to skip most of the routes leading to bad ends and reach the main route-split:
- Route 1 "Malice": 1, 2, 1, 1, Shortcut to the "[[Phone|Sex with Evil Women]]" Scene
- Route 2 "Oh, Desire": 1, 2, 2, 2, Shortcut to the "[[Phone|A Monster is You]]" Scene]
v0.1.1
- Clarified end of content (formerly 404 page)
- Altered some wording
- Default names
v0.1
- Around 6-7,5k ish words, depending on how many bad ends you hit
- No pictures (yet)
Endings:
There are 4,5 bad ends so far.
(if: $Heart is true)[<3: $nameGF took matters into her own hand. Next time be a little less passive.]
(else:)[]
(if: $Musings is true)[Musings: The somewhat better ending of the ones in which $nameGF turns into a murderer. ]
(else:)[]
(if: $DisLove is true)[DisLove: Incomplete Bad End. Try to make a different choice concerning blood.]
(else:)[]
(if: $Judgement is true)[Judgement: Completed Bad End. So far the only one in which the MC dies.]
(else:)[]
(if: $Fool is true)[Fool: I wanted to do a confinement-style ending.]
(else:)[]
The reassembled picture brings tears to your eyes. The damage stands out, you will have to fix it properly later, but you can still see $nameGF in it. Her beauty, now hidden behind a smudge of your blood, but nevertheless, there.
How ironic, the same man who has touched $nameGF before you has now destroyed your first picture of her as well.
Three knocks. Perched ontop of your stool you look at the door. You have locked it to keep her out, but now it feels lonely.
A realization sets in. You are indeed lonely. And afraid. Afraid of $nameGF turning into a stranger. Lonely because you did not know everything about her.
But does it matter that much?
Of course, the trust you had for her is somewhat damaged, but not completely broken. She performed those acts before you were going out, so it is not really cheating.
Or is it? Why did you start liking her? Was it her looks? Her body? The attention she was giving you?
"It is her kindness."
Your whisper silences some of the voices, but the ugliest remains.
//She had sex with another man.//
Or did she? How far did it go? How did they really do it? Are there //more// pictures? More delusions flood your mind, causing a crushing tighness within your chest. But why? Why is there a tightness in your pants as well?
Before you can sink deeper into this swamp more knocks come from the door. $nameGF is saying something.
"[[Please|Iconomachy]]..."
(set: $painting to true)Some days later you are sitting in the atelier, staring down an empty canvas.
The painting is inside your head, each stroke clear and crisp in front of your eyes. But the white wall in front of you forbids any action. Your hands itch to do something, anything, but you cannot make your body listen.
The front door opens and closes. You can hear $nameGF walking down the hallway. You exchange greetings through the open door and she disappears into the apartment.
Her prior entanglement is still heavy on your mind. Questions swirl within your head, insecurities gnaw at the edge of your mind.
$nameGF has promised you full disclosure of her deeds so far. You only had to ask. One part of you is straining against this idea that $nameGF is sullied. The other part drools at the thought of seeing more of her unknown side.
This isn't going to work.
Your brush falls to the floor and you rub your face.
A deep breath later you are walking towards the living room where $nameGF is sitting.
You stand before her and she closes her laptop.
“I think I’m ready now.”
Your throat is hoarse from dehydration. $nameGF shoves a bottle of water into your hand.
“I cannot take it anymore, what happened with $nameBully, in those pictures?”
A thin smile spreads across her lips and she beckons you to sit next to her on the couch. You are then pushed down into the cushions while she seats herself in front of your lap, elbows resting on your thighs.
She points a finger at your lips. They are cracked.
"Drink first, you are completely parched."
You drain the bottle, throwing it away once you are done. $nameGF raises an eyebrow at first but starts to talk nonetheless.
“After I found out about the bullying I decided to track $nameBully down. I confronted him.”
“What did you talk about?”
“We mostly talked about you, $nameYou. I told $nameBully in no uncertain terms that he is to stay away from you, unless he wants to face the consequences. His counter-offer however was an exchange. He could have my body so he’d leave you in peace.”
Once again your chest is gripped by an iron hand. Squeezing everything into a twisted shape, robbing you of breath and thought.
You become erect within your pants. $nameGF caresses the protrusion with her nails, blushing slightly.
“I would have been able to stay that way. His plaything, you know? All for you, to keep you safe. Protecting you from the shadows. You wouldn't even have gotten to know me.”
You writhe at her touch. She plants her hands next to your growing erection. Close enough that you can imagine the faint warmth of her body, but too far away to actually feel her.
“He took me to an alleyway and dropped his pants. I was reluctant at first. But I did it with love. I imagined your face and gave him a blowjob, just like this.”
She takes out her phone and scrolls through the pictures, landing on the one where she is covering her eyes. You take it from her. Her lips are closed around a penis, cheeks slightly stretched. There, you can see the mole under her collarbone. It is her. It can be no one else.
Your dick twitches at the sight and $nameGF giggles. With a practised movement she pulls down your pants and takes hold of you. Her fingers glide over you, already lubricated by your precum.
“Just like this.”
$nameGF whispers and starts to move her hand around your shaft while you hold onto the phone. Gentle kisses are planted around your tip, making you only harder. With an //aah~// she opens her mouth lets long strings of saliva drip down. Her tongue flicks close to the tip, but never touches it.
“His dick kept scraping against the roof of my mouth, it had a nasty curve. I really did give my best to make him cum as fast as possible. But he just wouldn’t calm down. In the end he came three times before he got soft.”
You grip onto the couch. Her movements become more forceful.
"D-did he teach you how to do this?"
$nameGF smiles. All you can hear are wet sounds. Then there is pressure on your glans, pushing down, rubbing it gently. The stimulation is too much.
"$nameGF!"
With one last stroke she completely pulls back your foreskin and takes your dick into her mouth. It is a hot and wet cage, moving around and massaging you. You cannot hold on and dissolve into her, your hips twitching every now and then.
Her lips pull away as she stands up, some cloudy droplets still staining her. $nameGF looks down on you and swallows loudly.
"Ju~st like this."
A heavy flush creeps up her face and her eyes glisten. She gets on top of your lap to cup your face and kiss you around the eyes.
"P-please, $nameGF. Did he.. ?"
Her giggle sends shivers down your [[spine|Resolve]].
(link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[|]")[(colour: #000000)["Of course not~ I learned //this// from reading the porn books you hid behind your clothes in your apartment. I was still too inexperienced to do this when I was in school."]](link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[_]") [The light of her eyes extinguishes.]
$nameGF stands up from the couch. (link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[_]") [She is shaking.]
"I will show you much more of it, then." (link-reveal: "(colour: #000000)[_]") [She is lying, you know it by the way she is holding her left wrist.]
$nameGF says and holds her hand in front of you. You give her back the phone and she calls someone. She shows you the ID. It's $nameBully.
She is calling //him//!
Your body grows hot and sweat pearls off your chin. You want to scream and shout but the air is too thin to support your words. There is a conversation going on right in front of you, but you cannot understand it.
"... meet ... to ... "
Like a cornered beast your mind is raging inside your head. Voices scream at you from all sides but they are unable to win against the crushing grip that this vice has on your soul. There is poison in your body, it is killing you, but at the same time there is such pleasure to be had.
"I just called him again, we'll meet up soon. So don't wait up, okay?"
You follow her movements, like a spectre she gets dressed and goes towards the front door.
"Have a safe trip."
She does not answer nor look [[back|DisLove]].
Her tears flow freely and drop onto your face. They taste like salt, but also unmistakably like her.
The pain! Oh, the pain!
You move her off your lap and head back into your atelier. The sight of your paintings makes you laugh. All that time wasted on trivialities. No feelings reside in these paintings. Self-pity? Plenty. Depression? Heaps. But true emotions? None.
You tear and howl, canvas after canvas falls apart.
“$nameGF, $nameGF! Come!”
Behind you $nameGF appears at the doorway. You run up to her and sweep her off her feet.
“It’s you! It has to be you!”
Your cries of joy bounce off the walls until you stumble and fall to the ground. Still laughing you plant kisses on her feet and up her legs.
“It can be no one but //you//, $nameGF.”
She cradles your exhausted frame in her arms. Is that wonder you see on her face? Has her insanity finally met its match in your perversion? You kiss and hug, giggle and cuddle until your clothes are shed and laughter turns into moaning.
“Please, show me more of your beauty.”
You breathe.
“I [[will|Wille]], $nameYou.”In the end $nameGF went to prison. In her testimony she stated that she acted under duress, seeing how your relationship was at stake due to the threat of blackmail.
Time passes and here you find yourself again, in the midst of the letters you have exchanged with her.
You write of trivialities, about how much you miss each other, the food you eat, the work you are doing. Your hand doesn't touch the brush anymore, but instead you have found the pen.
A creator remains a creator in a way and now you write novels. The only pictures you keep drawing are in the letters for [[$nameGF|Index]].
(set: $Musings to true)In the end $nameGF never came back. You were able to stay for two months in her apartment until the police came looking for her. Apparently she went missing. Shortly thereafter you were kicked out when the lease ended.
To be back in your apartment, albeit dusty and small, was somewhat comforting. You had your peace from other humans, the noise let you ignore your own thoughts and you had your paintings. And you kept on painting, and painting. Without fail, without pause. Every day.
Now your apartment is full of //her//. Everywhere you look you can see a facette of $nameGF staring back at you. Some are kind and gentle, others mischievous. But most of the paintings show her sad and dejected. There are so many of her pictures, but only so little left of you. The hollowness of your being steadily increasing day after day.
You still blame yourself, for pushing her away.
Did you believe she would listen to such a request?
The sound of the train manages to drown out the voices in your head. Today won't be the day either.
You move the finished painting off the easel and reach for a new canvas. There are none left, except for the broken one you kept wrapped up all this time. Unthinking you rip open the covering and take out the ripped pieces of your painting. The blood on it is brown and flaking.
Looking at the pieces you recognize the strokes. Too hasty here, her hair doesn't fall that way. No thought put into this part, the muscles on her back are more defined. Mistakes pile onto each other until you can not stop the tears anymore. The only proof of your love for her, destroyed by another (if: $blood is true)[[[man|Judgement]]](else:)[[[man.|Index]]]
(set: $DisLove to true)The doorbell rings.
You ignore it.
It keeps ringing.
There is shouting coming from the outside because of the noise but the ringing persists.
After your tears run out you go to open the door. It's $nameGF.
You can't see most of her features due to a mask, but the way she holds her body, the curve of her eyebrows, the deep abyss of her eyes.
"$nameYou. I'm back."
You fall to your knees, unbelieving. Her eyes follow you. She moves to pull down the mask. Yes, it is her. How her lips meet, the size of her philtrum-
Something heavy and hard lands in your lap. It is a bag.
"Y-you've come back."
"I did."
You crawl back with the bag while she enters your apartment and closes the door behind her.
"Go on, open it."
You obey and pull open the bag. It's $nameBully. Or rather, his severed head, preserved in a jar.
Realisation overcomes you. There can be only one reason for her to come back. After you pushed her away, tried to defile her further.
You look up into her dark eyes. One last selfish request on your tongue.
"Please, do it while I'm in your arms."
She nods.
The thin knife sinks in deep between your ribs and pierces your heart. You thought it would hurt more, maybe you hoped it would? But your punishment has arrived, at last.
Your vision turns to grey while you can feel your limbs become colder and colder. Being cradled in her arms, however, is [[warm|Index]].
(set: $Judgement to true)
(set: $DisLove to false)You open the door. A cold draft rushes in by your feet, how long have you been inside this room? $nameGF stands on the treshold, her eyes swollen and red from crying. Her hand is still raised and you take hold of it. You lead her into the room, stopping in front of the crudely restored picture.
"I made this ... it's supposed to be you."
$nameGF is still holding onto your hand, gripping it even. You can feel her trembling.
"For the longest time this is how I've seen you. An unattainable beauty ... too good for me."
Her head snaps around, you can sense it. But you do not feel ready to look at her, yet. Instead your eyes trace the lines on the painting, every gash in the canvas reminding you of what has been done to her. Done with her? Done for //you//?
"Seeing those pictures of you ... hurt. I still struggle to combine them with the image I had of you in my head ..."
Having fully sorted your thoughts you finally look at her. Her eyes are still full of tears, overflowing and running down her cheeks.
|Choice1>[(colour: #3680ec) [//I still love her.//]]|NotChoice>[
]|Choice2>[(colour: #3680ec) [//It's too much for me.//]]
(click: ?Choice1)["But even this imperfect image of you is still perfect. Still beautiful."
$nameGF stares at you. Is it debelief, or relief?
"Y-you don't hate me?"
You shake your head.
"No, just as you said you were weak before I am weak right now. If anything ... I hate myself for enjoying it."
You point down towards your crotch. $nameGF follows your finger with her eyes and blushes.
"Would you do it again? Show me more sides of you I didn't know about?"
Her other hands hold your cheek and you let it happen.
"I will. I will do it. Anywhere, anytime. I will prove my love for you over and over [[again|Wille]]."
(replace: ?NotChoice)[](replace: ?Choice2)[]
](click: ?Choice2)["I don't think I can do it."
You let go of her hand and head towards the door.
"Wh-where are you going?"
Her whimper behind you halts your steps. You do not turn around.
"I think it'd be best if I live by myself ... for a while."
You are not even able to get past the treshold before blinding pain explodes at the back of your head.
"$nameYou is just confused. He will come back to his senses. I just need to look after him. Only $nameBully is to blame. I will have to punish him. This time he will die. I will not be weak again. My weakness caused all of this. It made $nameYou weak as well. I will protect you this time, $nameYou. Just you and me, no one else. I will love you until the [[end|Fool]]. I will be strong, for us."
(replace: ?Choice1)[](replace: ?Notchoice)[]]Sometimes you still ask yourself what you have done to deserve this kind of punishment. Everytime $nameGF comes into the atelier you also ask her that.
Was it a lack of love?
All she would do is smile and shake her head. She would feed you, wash you, kiss you, sometimes make love to you and then leave you again. Some days (?) weeks (?) months (?) years (?) ago she showed you small black and white pictures.
"It's our child."
You cannot remember anymore what you felt at that point. Solitude and darkness have been too much for your soul.
Again the door opens, light comes flooding in. Two shapes stand at the threshold, one tall and one short.
"Go on, go to him."
The smaller person walks over to you. You recoil at its touch at first, but it is warm and you are too weak to resist. Short arms reach around your head and hold you close.
"Mother told me all about you. How you're too sick to go out and how you sometimes hurt the ones you love."
The sweet whispers of a girl. Her words reach you, but you are filled with such dread.
"But Mother loves you too much. As do I. In the future, when Mother is gone, I will be here for you, Father."
You are kissed on the forehead.
Fear turns into panic but then the last threads of your sanity unravel, to save yourself. At least in Hell you would have been able to hope for salvation. Salvation which cannot be found in this [[atelier|Index]].
(set: $Fool to true)(if: $painting is true)[
"Wouldn't you like to know~"
$nameGF seats herself high up on your hips, making her weight push you down further into the couch. Her mischievous smile is on full display.
"Wouldn't you rather want to know if $nameBully did //more// things to me?"
...!
"Oh~ $nameYou, the face you're making right now is too amazing. I might not be able to control myself~"
She leans down to kiss you again.
"Promise me, show me more of your faces. I'll do anything you want just to catch another glimpse."
Caught in this soft prison you can only nod and grab her by the hips. Your dick is suddenly brimming with life again and you try to lift her up. $nameGF obliges and angles your dick with her hands so you can penetrate her. She touches her lower belly, her fingers searching for you.
"You're way harder today~ And you came so much earlier as well. Is this such a turn-on for you?"
Out of breath you continue to drive your pelvis upwards. Every thrust makes her bounce and gasp until she needs to hold onto the couch for support.
"Yes, just like that, $nameYou!"
One last push forces you over the top. You arch your back, lifting $nameGF from the couch and ejaculating everything you have left into her. $nameGF leans down to kiss you again and licks around your eyes.
Breathing heavily she drapes herself over you.
"$nameGF .. please..."
You are the first to break the silence. $nameGF supports herself on your chest so she can look you in the eyes.
"Did I tease you too much?"
"The truth.."
$nameGF squirms and buries her face behind her hands.
"You're too cute when you're like this ... But no, it was that blowjob and nothing else. I promise. I would and will never lie to you."
She says after pulling down her hands, her face still completely flushed and eyes hazy. With the last of your strength you hug her, unable to do more before you drift off into [[sleep|Bloodline]].](else:)[Without needing one word of direction, she knows! The actions, the words! You embrace her and push her backwards. She giggles coyly and reaches down to angle your still hard member so you can penetrate her.
"Tell me, did he do this as well?"
You ask and drive your hips forward. Her folds give away, enveloping you tightly.
"Wouldn't you like to know~~?"
$nameGF coos and wraps her legs around your waist. The tightness within your chest starts to burn, but it is a good pain.
"Do you really believe $nameBully would leave it at a blowjob?"
Her mischievous grin goads you on. You put your whole weight into every thrust, driving them as deep as you can.
"Oh~ ah~ that alley was so empty~ He could have easily had his way with me~"
More than pain it is pure fire that runs through you. You tuck your head into the nook of her neck so you can hear more of her siren song.
"You are stronger than him back then~ but who knows how it will work out in the present? I would be powerless to resist him~"
An image flashes before your mind's eye and you clench your teeth. With one last mighty push you bury yourself into her. Skin to skin you shiver in unison until you both go limp.
After a while of $nameGF brushing your hair she speaks again.
"Hey, $nameYou, let's move to the [[bed|Phone Call]]..."
]"What?"
Your fork slips from your hand and clatters down onto the plate. $nameGF just said something outrageous while you were eating breakfast together for the first time in weeks.
"P-please repeat yourself?"
$nameGF leans forward.
"I said that I will end his bloodline. $nameBully is an only child, and his parents are above fifty, so I will seduce him and make it so that he can never look at another woman ever again. I will make him my //slave//."
The words are there, but the meaning is too terrible to understand.
"But what about ... us? Do I not belong to you ... and you to me?"
She crawls onto the table, inching closer and closer.
"He is an animal, don't think of $nameBully as a human being anymore. If anything he is going to be my //dog//."
Her eyes are devoid of light while she utters these words. You cannot break her gaze until it softens a little bit.
"Oh, $nameYou, you're making that face again. I'm sorry~"
She kisses you gently.
"I won't do it if you don't agree, you know? I won't hurt you. Please believe me. This is just a way to both satisfy this fetish of yours and reach my goal. We can always find another way for him to never bother you again."
"W-what other things did you think about?"
$nameGF straightens herself, the sunlight at her back outlines her curves and makes her hair shine like a halo. You burn the sight into your mind for a new painting.
"Murder. Rape."
"Murder?!"
She puts her index finger to her chin and smiles.
"Of course, I know where he lives, where his parents live, where all his friends live. The contacts and addresses of his classmates, his schedule. Everything. Plotting out a murder should be easy."
You look upon her with concern. Maybe she has not outgrown her phase at all. Murder? $nameGF has done some extreme things, but killing another human being? You shudder at the thought and hold up your hand.
"Murder is off the table ...
|Choice1>[let's follow your initial plan.`"`]|NotChoice>[
]|Choice2>[just ... rape him?`"`]
(click: ?Choice1)[$nameGF hums as she jumps off the table and pulls out her phone. The ID she is calling flashes before your eyes until she starts to talk with a [[smirk|Succubus]].
It's $nameBully.
(replace: ?NotChoice)[](replace: ?Choice2)[]
](click: ?Choice2)[$nameGF hums as she jumps off the table and pulls you into a hug.
"Anything, for [[you|Nightcrawl]]."(replace: ?Choice1)[](replace: ?Notchoice)[]]Some days pass and you get to spend some time together, again. Only $nameGF looks somewhat worried.
"Are you sure you want it to happen //here//? And you want him to know that you're watching?"
You are lying on the couch, your head on $nameGF's lap.
"Yes, I don't want you to be alone with him, I don't trust him."
$nameGF just shakes her head.
"I can defend myself, they make powerful stun-guns nowadays ... "
"We can't be too prepared."
$nameGF leans over you, her breasts cover your eyes.
"But what if he becomes violent against you, again? And why ... here? I don't want //him// here."
"Oh ... I thought it would be convenient? You have a door guard and all, so he can't call more people. You would be safer as well, we outnumber him."
You cannot tell her expression but from the vibrations of her chest she is muttering something.
"This is a bad idea, but fine. We will have to buy covers for the furniture and everything else as well. Oh~ what am I going to do with this [[kink|Prepared]] of yours?"
[[|Nightcrawl]]
Under construction
Return to [[Index]]Under construction
Return to [[Index]]Under construction
Return to [[Index]]Setting the necessary [[flags|Wille]].
(set: $blood to true)
(set: $painting to true)
(set: $nameGF to (prompt: "What is your girlfriend's name?", "Muse"))
(set: $nameYou to (prompt: "What is your name?", "Anon"))
(set: $nameBully to (prompt: "What is the bully's name?", "Ken"))
Setting the necessary [[flags|Wille]].
(set: $blood to true)
(set: $painting to false)
(set: $nameGF to (prompt: "What is your girlfriend's name?", "Muse"))
(set: $nameYou to (prompt: "What is your name?", "Anon"))
(set: $nameBully to (prompt: "What is the bully's name?", "Ken"))