/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

>>3241343
Based. Didn't read past the first line btw.

>>3241343
wtf anon...

>>3241343
ogey

>>3241343
you should get raped for real faggit

Why are fandeads like this?

>>3241754
rrape

>>3241343
That story reminds me of that one anime where a dude(male) gets killed and isekais into a loli in a world war or something and people are attracted to that. My point being that this world is corrupt

Words cannot describe how much you are in need of a therapist

>saved
good one anon happy to see people here still have some imagination

>>3241343
I will tribute rushia in your memory.

>(I just pretend)
I like how you felt the need to clarify

The car, carrying a young woman streamer and her friend, I struck head-on. The friend, an assistant for Rushia with a Japanese company, was killed instantly, propelled through her windshield like a mattress from the barrel of a circus cannon. She died on the bonnet of my car, her blood sprayed through the fractured windshield across my face and chest. The firemen who later cut me from the crushed cabin of my car assumed that I was bleeding to death from a massive open-heart wound.
My chest was severely bruised against the steering wheel, my knees crushed into the instrument panel as my body moved forwards into its own collision with the interior of the car, but my only serious injury was a severed nerve in my scalp.
The same mysterious forces that saved me from being impaled on the steering wheel also saved the young streamer.
Apart from a bruised upper jawbone and several loosened teeth, she was unharmed. During my first hours in Tokyo Hospital all I could see in my mind was the image of us locked together face to face in these two cars, the body of her dying friend lying between us on the bonnet of my car. We looked at each other through the fractured windshields, neither able to move. Her friend's hand, no more than a few inches from me, lay palm upwards beside the right windshield wiper. Her hand had struck some rigid object as she was hurled from her seat, and the pattern of a sign formed itself as I sat there, pumped up by her dying circulation into a huge blood-blister - the triton signature of my radiator emblem.
Supported by her diagonal seat belt, Rushia sat behind her steering wheel, staring at me in a curiously formal way, as if unsure what had brought us together. Her cute face, topped by a broad, intelligent forehead, had the blank and unresponsive look of a madonna in an early Renaissance icon, unwilling to accept the miracle, or nightmare, sprung from her loins. Only once did any emotion cross it, when she seemed to see me clearly for the first time, and a peculiar rictus twisted the right side of her face, as if the nerve had been pulled on a string. Did she realize then that the blood covering my face and chest was her friend's?

The young woman was carefully steered from her car by an olive-skinned man in the midnight-blue uniform of an Arab airline pilot. A thin stream of urine trickled involuntarily between her legs, running down on to the roadway. The pilot held her shoulders reassuringly. Standing beside their cars, the spectators watched this puddle forming on the oil-stained macadam. In the fading evening light, rainbows began to circle her weak ankles. She turned and stared down at me, a peculiar grimace with tears on her bruised face, a clear confusion of concern and hostility. However, all I could see was the unusual junction of her thighs, opened towards me in this deformed way. It was not the sexuality of the posture that stayed in my mind, but the stylization of the terrible events that had involved us, the extremes of pain and violence ritualized in this gesture of her legs, like the exaggerated pirouette of a mentally defective autistic girl I had once seen performing in a Christmas play at an institution.


The draped body of the dead friend was lifted from the bonnet of my car. Seated like a demented madonna between the doors of the second ambulance, her friend Rushia gazed vacantly at the evening traffic. The wound in her right cheek was slowly deforming her face as the bruised tissues gorged themselves on their own blood. Already I was aware that the interlocked radiator grilles of our cars formed the model of an inescapable and perverse union between us. I stared at the contours of her thighs. Across them the grey blanket formed a graceful dune. Somewhere beneath this mound lay the treasure of her pubis. Its precise jut and rake, the untouched sexuality of this intelligent woman, presided over the tragic events of the evening.

>>3241343
Joke or not, I do something similar

>>3242061
elaborate.

>>3242057
>>3241343
Why is /vt/ like this?

Give me more material for ai dungeon

Is this the Rushia transformation fetish thread?

Maybe this is just a cry for help from Rushia, and we're all too weird to see it.

>My friend died yesterday in his last car-crash. During our friendship he had rehearsed his death in many crashes, but this was his only true accident. Driven on a collision course towards the limousine of the v-tuber idol, his car jumped the rails of the Australian Airport flyover and plunged through the roof of a bus filled with airline passengers. The crushed bodies of package tourists, like a haemorrhage of the sun, still lay across the vinyl seats when I pushed my way through the police engineers an hour later. Holding the arm of her chauffeur, the idol Kiara, with whom he had dreamed of dying for so many months, stood alone under the revolving ambulance lights.

>As I knelt over my friend’s body she placed a gloved hand to her throat.
>Could she see, in his posture, the formula of the death which he had devised for her? During the last weeks of his life he thought of nothing else but her death, a coronation of wounds he had staged with the devotion of an Earl Marshal. The walls of his apartment near the film studios at the airport were covered with the photographs he had taken through his zoom lens each morning as she left her hotel in Austria, from the pedestrian bridges above the westbound motorways, and from the roof of the multi-storey car-park at the studios. The magnified details of her knees and hands, of the inner surface of her thighs and the left apex of her mouth, I uneasily prepared for him on the copying machine in my office, handing him the packages of prints as if they were the instalments of a death warrant. At his apartment I watched him matching the details of her body with the photographs of grotesque wounds in a textbook of plastic surgery.

>In his vision of a car-crash with the idol, he was obsessed by many wounds and impacts — by the dying chromium and collapsing bulkheads of their two cars meeting head-on in complex collisions endlessly repeated in slow-motion films, by the identical wounds inflicted on their bodies, by the image of windshield glass frosting around her face as she broke its tinted surface like a death-born Aphrodite, by the compound fractures of their thighs impacted against their handbrake mountings, and above all by the wounds to their genitalia, her uterus pierced by the heraldic beak of the manufacturer’s medallion, his semen emptying across the luminescent dials that registered for ever the last temperature and fuel levels of the engine.

>It was only at these times, as he described this last crash to me, that he was calm. He talked of these wounds and collisions with the erotic tenderness of a long-separated lover. Searching through the photographs in his apartment, he half turned towards me, so that his heavy groin quietened me with its profile of an almost erect penis. He knew that as long as he provoked me with his own sex, which he used casually as if he might discard it for ever at any moment, I would never leave him.
>Ten days ago, as he stole my car from the garage of my apartment house, he hurtled up the concrete ramp, an ugly machine sprung from a trap. Yesterday his body lay under the police arc-lights at the foot of the flyover, veiled by a delicate lacework of blood. The broken postures of his legs and arms, the bloody geometry of his face, seemed to parody the photographs of crash injuries that covered the walls of his apartment. I looked down for the last time at his huge groin, engorged with blood. Twenty yards away, illuminated by the revolving lamps, the idol hovered on the arm of her chauffeur. He had dreamed of dying at the moment of her orgasm.

>>3242522
>My friend died yesterday in his last car-crash
lets goooooo!

>>3242057
THIS quickening impulse, my loins soon at full cock, lifted me almost literally from the sick-bed. Within three days I hobbled to the physiotherapy department, ran errands for the nurses and hung around the staff room, trying to talk shop to the bored doctors. The sense of a vital sex cut through my unhappy euphoria, my confused guilt over the woman I had killed. The week after the accident had been a maze of pain and insane fantasies. After the commonplaces of everyday life, with their muffled dramas, all my organic expertise for dealing with physical injury had long been blunted or forgotten. The crash was the only real experience I had been through for years. For the first time I was in physical confrontation with my own body, an inexhaustible encyclopedia of pains and discharges, with the hostile gaze of other people, and with the fact of the dead man. After being bombarded endlessly by road-safety propaganda it was almost a relief to find myself in an actual accident. Like everyone else bludgeoned by these billboard harangues and television films of imaginary accidents, I had felt a vague sense of unease that the gruesome climax of my life was being rehearsed years in advance, and would take place on some highway or road junction known only to the makers of these films. At times I had even speculated on the kind of traffic accident in which I would die.

My wife Rushia and our intimate sex life:

Crossing her legs, she began the business of lighting a cigarette, fumbling with an unfamiliar lighter. From which new lover had she borrowed this ugly machine, all too clearly a man’s? Tooled from an aircraft cannon shell, it was more like a weapon. For years I had been able to spot Catherine’s affairs within almost a few hours of her first sex act simply by glancing over any new physical or mental furniture – a sudden interest in some third-rate wine or film-maker, a different tack across the waters of aviation politics. Often I could guess the name of her latest lover long before she released it at the climax of our sexual acts. This teasing game she and I needed to play. As we lay together we would describe a complete amatory encounter, from the first chit-chat at an airline cocktail party to the sexual act itself. The climax of these games was the name of the illicit partner. Held back until the last moment, it would always produce the most exquisite orgasms for both of us. There were times when I felt that these affairs took place merely to provide the raw material for our sexual games.

>>3241343
Honestly schizoposting is the only reason why i come on this board
That and the lesbos

>>3241343
I think you're just plain retarded, chief, no cap.

>>3241343
That's pretty hot. Mind if I jack off to it tomorrow night?

Thanks anon

>>3241343
Hot

NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
>NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS NIGGERS
NIGGERS NIGG

>>3241343
>>3242057
>>3242522
>>3242630
>>3242700
>>3246224
I’m begging you, take your meds

>>3241343
What the fuck, anon?

>>3241343
Femanon...

>>3241343
Why do I find this hot?

>>3246307
You have found out you have a fetish for men pretending to be raped girls. It’s not one you ever would have chosen, but it’s still yours. What you now do with this knowledge is up to you. Godspeed, anon.

>>3246224
is this the same pedo that posts in the /xmr/ general

>>3241343
Posts like this makes me want to watch her, I'm definitely missing out something fun

Are you posting from experience? Sounds like you're the rapist.

>>3241343
I'm going to akasupa this to her.

>>3241343
Take your meds you fucking schizo.

>>3241343
I could make this shitpost better. You could make this shitpost better. Try harder.

>>3241343
Enough to make a man lose his head

So we're all in agreement that all men are rapists and pedophiles?

This is about as sane as any other post on this board

>>3254285
WHAT IS A MAN

>>3241343
>>3242061
This is a normal part of growing up, anons. Don’t worry, this is just part of this crazy life! You’ll be ok!

>>3254285
Based

>>3242700
>Catherine
you fucked up.

>>3246307
Because you imagined Rushia doing the things OP said, and not actually the guy pretending to be Rushia.
This or you just like to think of grown ass men pretending to be an anime girl who got bang'd

>>3254365
A featherless chicken apparently.

>>3241970
The-rapist... Wtf anon?

>>3241343
>wash the rapist's imaginary cum out of my asshole and "vagina"
you shouldn't really do this actually
otherwise they can't track the rapist

Good thread

>>3255488
you wouldnt understand

i want to do this

>>3257145
As the rapist or rapee?

>>3241343
She's got a nice butt crack. Heh heh...

Best thread on /vt/, and thanks for the idea OP I'll try this out in my shower tonight.

Status of meds: Away!'d

>>3241343
Anon is a whore...

>>3242061
You and OP should marry each other

>>3241970
>>3255192
I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON ANYMORE

>>3241343
I don't do this myself, but this is what I imagine my victims have to go through in minecraft. It's not the moment that gets me hard, it's the trauma that comes after.

>>3267647
the very real possibility that this anon is a serial rapist is completely eclipsed by me laughing like a dumbass at the "in minecraft" bit

>>3267774
I said in minecraft, so it's all just jokes and fiction.

>>3267647
>in minecraft
Elaborate

It was a self defense situation. I'm not proud of what I did but Rushia was going to murder me if I didn't assert dominance.

>>3241343
I want to believe that you're making this up but for some reason I just can't

>>3241343
>Sometimes when it's quiet I sit on the shower floor (I have a pretty big shower)
do you go primal?

Jesus fucking christ, anon. Go to therapy.

Saved for posteriority

>Sometimes when it's quiet I sit on the shower floor (I have a pretty big shower) and pretend I'm Rushia who has been raped (I'm a guy IRL).
>No girl should ever go through what I just did, all men are animals.
Why does that final line make me laugh so hard. Fuck you OP for writing this gold copypasta.

>>3241343

>>3241343

>>3241343
Don't put me in the screenshot. DONTA

>>3241868
Source on that anime pls I beg u anonsama

>>3241343
You should get a rape kit before showering for the record, although most rape victims' first instinct is to shower obviously.

>>3242630
>soon at full cock
kek

>>3289966
The only thing I know that comes close to it is Tanya the evil

>>3241343
MY FUCKING SIDES

>>3241343
top kek

>>3289966
Middle aged ojisan(voiced by Aoi Yuuki) has to use his Hearts of Iron autism to fight a world war and destroy communism.
It's the best isekai by virtue of it's uniqueness alone.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ow0b-Crmr1Q

>>3296573
no

OP did your abusive gf raped and left you all at the same night?

What's wrong with /vt/ man

>>3255841
You have to be strong pretend-woman

>>3305108
Nothing, this is why I come here

>>3267647
glowies activated, enjoy your investigation

>>3241343
heckin wholesome

put me in the screencap

>>3307841
reddit

>>3241343
Seek help or ngmi
https://youtu.be/aOCZfnu1r_Y
https://youtu.be/sVaCBm_NQT8
https://youtu.be/F0w_7_96CJc

>>3241343
The original pasta was about an MLP character

>>3241343
what

>>3305108
There are a lot of wrong things in this board, but this thread isn't one.

>>3241343
Nice pasta. I’ll use it for Nyanner’s threads.

>>3299498
yes

>>3308085
no

>>3242057
This is why you should always wear your seatbelt. This tragedy didn't need to happen.

Shitty cap delivery

>>3312570
dont

>>3241343
You're a good writer.

>>3241343
>>3243662
This was a disappointing experience. I couldn't immerse myself in it emotionally and ended up just taking a shower.

>>3241343
very powerful post

>>3284293
You should aave the numbers as well next time, bur thanksss

This reminds me of Lammy transformation thread.

>>3241343
I hope you just have a wild imagination OP.
Otherwise, welcome to the VT Hall of Fame...

>>3241343
Nice post