🛑 EPIC SPOILER ALERT: ADULT-LEVEL CHAOS AHEAD (18+) 🛑
Hey, Future Reader! Yes, you!!! ( ͡° ᴥ ͡°) the one about to click past this wall of text. We need to have a very serious, yet utterly seriousness, chat about what you're stepping into.
If you are a minor (under 18), please listen closely: This next section contains extreme levels of Adulting and High-Voltage Themes that your young, innocent brain may not be equipped to process. We're talking about situations that involve things like overt hand-holding, unnatural levels of emotional vulnerability, and complex appliance usage plus the other very, very adult stuff.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it (and I hope you don't if you're under 18), will expose you to concepts that are legally and morally above your pay grade. I literally cannot control your scrolling finger, but I am begging the universe right now: Please. For the love of all that is holy and non-explicit, if you are a minor, go read a nice story about talking animals or something. This is your final, dramatic, air-horn sounding warning!!!!
Kinktober 2025: The Calendar Listing
Day 1 (Jean x Lisa, Genshin): Masturbation and Orgasm Control. (Skipped Incest)
Day 2 (Elizabeth x Nerissa, Hololive): Coming Untouched and Kidnapping. (Skipped Age Play)
Day 3 (Mizi x Sua x Hyuna, Alien Stage): Alien Abduction, Nipple Clamps, and Threesome.
Day 4 (Arlecchino x Columbina x Sandrone, Genshin): Voyeurism, Sounding, and Hypnosis.
Day 5 (Black Swan x Acheron, H:SR): Fingersucking, Wax Play, and Dacryphilia.
Day 6 (Ruan Mei x Herta, H:SR): Outdoor Sex, Humiliation, and Intoxication.
Day 7 (Morana x Striga, Castlevania): Blindfolds, Chastity, and Bloodplay.
Day 8 (Shalom x Rahu, PtN): Webcam, Cages, and Uniform Kink. (Skipped Figging)
Day 9 (Carlotta x Cantarella, WW): Exhibitionism, Shibari, and Tentacles.
Day 10 (Astra x Evelyn, ZZZ): Oral Sex, Punishment, and CNC.
Day 11 (Zani x Phoebe, WW): Come Licking, Handcuffs, and Somnophilia.
Day 12 (Stelle x March 7th, H:SR): Kneeling and Sex Work. (Skipped Sissification)
Day 13 (Sage x Reyna, Valorant): Dildos, Dom Bottom/Sub Top, and Medical Play.
Day 14 (Qiyan x Jingnu, CML Loss of Love): Omegaverse, Possessive Sex, and Gagging.
Day 15 (Cerydra x Hysilens, H:SR): Semi-Public, Object Insertion, and Sex Pollen.
Day 16 (Raze x Killjoy, Valorant): Remote Control, High Protocol, and Fire Play.
Day 17 (Himeko x Kafka, H:SR): Messy Sex and Service Kink. (Skipped Anal Hooks)
Day 18 (Goldship x Mejiro McQueen, Uma Musume): Size Queen and Genital Torture.
Day 19 (Yae Miko x Raiden Ei, Genshin): Creampie, Sensory Deprivation, and Electricity.
Day 20 (Iuno x Augusta): Mirror Sex and Dubcon. (Skipped Golden Shower)
Day 21 (Princess Bubblegum x Marceline, AT): Rimming, Forced Orgasm, and Monster Fucking.
Day 22 (Navia & Clorinde, Genshin): Quiet Sex, Crawling, and Gunplay.
Day 23 (Jungle Pocket & Agnes Tachyon, Uma Musume): Biting and Praise Kink.
Day 24 (Ouro Kronii & Nanashi Mumei, Hololive): Anal Sex, Gag, and Non-Consensual (Non-Con).
Day 25 (Lauma & Nefer, Genshin): Double Penetration (DP), Impact Play, and Pillory.
Day 26 (Elster (OC) x Ariane x Elster (Replika)): Lingerie, Cuckoldry, and Sex Robot.
Day 27 (Rover & 4 Consultants, WW): Animal Play, Hair Pulling, and Gangbang.
Day 28 (Kiana Kaslana x Raiden Mei, HI3): Multiple Orgasm, S&M kink, and Needle Play.
Day 29 (Belle and Vivian, ZZZ): Body Worship, Full Body Bondage, and Marking.
Day 30 (Yanagi x Miyabi, ZZZ): Breeding, Fucking Machine, and Degradation.
Day 31 (Yun Wangshu / Xi He and Chiyang Huaming, Eclipse of Illusion): Hot Tub Sex, Foot Fetish, and Submissive/Dominant.
🤯 The Great Kinktober Rant: An Author's Discretion Memoir 🤯
Chapter I: The Desperate Descent into Depravity (Or, Why I Sold My Soul to a Spreadsheet)
Hello, dearest readers. If you're here, it means you survived the tags, you survived the warnings, and you're now staring down the barrel of an author's note longer than most flash fiction pieces. Welcome. Pull up a chair. Get a snack. We need to talk about why this thing even exists.
To understand Kinktober 2025 from my perspective, you first need to understand the desolate, barren landscape that was my writing life beforehand. For nearly 18 months, I have been chained to a magnum opus—a sweeping, epic fantasy novel that was going to redefine the genre, win me seven Pulitzer Prizes, and finally convince my mother that my Engineering degree was a worthwhile investment. This book, which I shall affectionately call The Tome of Eternal Drafts, was stuck. Not just slightly stuck, mind you, but entombed in a geological epoch of Writer's Block. Every time I sat down, my brain felt less like a creative engine and more like a damp piece of toast left in the garage. The ideas were gone. The spark had evaporated. I was creatively bankrupt and contemplating a career change to competitive stapler counting.
It was during this low point, roughly around the time I started measuring my self-worth in empty coffee mugs, that I saw it: the Kinktober prompt list. It wasn't a writing challenge; it was an intervention. A brutal, terrifying, and deeply stupid intervention. My logic, which, I must stress, was severely compromised by desperation and sleep deprivation, went something like this: "If I can't write a chapter about elves discussing tax policy, maybe I can write 31 individual, high-stakes, deeply researched, and increasingly unhinged smut one-shots based on a random, aggressively horny calendar!"
I saw it as a desperate measure, a literary AED paddle to the heart of my creativity. It wasn't about the kink; it was about forcing words out. It was about proving, through sheer, maniacal output, that the writing muscle hadn't atrophied entirely. It was an exercise in sheer, chaotic momentum, hoping that if I just kept running and screaming, I would eventually trip over the finish line of my own book. So, yes, I joined Kinktober. Not for glory, not for fame, but because I needed new ideas, and frankly, my well had run drier than a forgotten mummy in the desert. The book still sits unfinished, but now I know, definitively, that I can write a 3,000-word exploration of Anal Sex, Gag, and Non-Con at 3 AM. Progress! (I think?)
Chapter II: The Terrors of Un-Googleable Prompts (Or, Why I Now Have a Highly Suspicious Search History)
Let me tell you about the prompt list. It wasn't just spicy. It was a psychological thriller, a global tour of human (and sometimes inhuman) predilections. I entered Kinktober thinking I was pretty seasoned. I mean, I'm an adult! I've been on the Internet! I've seen things!
Then came Day 11: Somnophilia. I looked at the word. I sounded it out: Somn-o-phil-ia. I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. The word sounded like a fancy cheese or maybe a new type of antibiotic, but definitely not like something that belonged in a fanfic summary. I had absolutely no prior idea what this was. I tried to apply my sophisticated, university-level linguistic skills. Somnus means sleep, right? Philia means love? So, love of sleep? Maybe it's just about cuddling in bed? A sweet, wholesome interlude? Oh, sweet summer child, I was wrong.
My subsequent research journey was less "deep-diving into lore" and more "panic-googling on an incognito browser while wearing five layers of protective shame." Every click led to another layer of confusion, horror, and then, eventually, the dawning realization that I now had to craft a compelling, narrative-driven scene around this concept. I spent hours reading about dream states, subconscious desires, and legal definitions—all so I could write a three-page smut scene that, frankly, left me needing a therapist and a vat of holy water.
My search history for that week alone is now a digital crime scene: "what is somnophilia in simple terms," "does Zani sleep," "safe wake-up methods," "does Zani ever relax," "is it possible to scrub the internet history from my soul." I had to go through a rigorous, self-imposed process just to incorporate that single, cursed word. This wasn't writing; it was investigative journalism disguised as extreme fan service. Every single obscure prompt required similar levels of academic-grade investigation just to ensure I wasn't accidentally writing about, I don't know, competitive cheese rolling. It was exhausting, but it definitely killed the writer's block. (It replaced it with existential dread, but still, progress!)
Chapter III: The Line in the Sand (Or, The Prompts That Sparked a Moral Mutiny)
Now, we get to the parts I skipped. Kinktober is a prompt list, not a manifesto, and an author has to draw their line somewhere. For me, that line was Day 1 and Day 2: Incest and Ageplay.
You might think I skipped these because I'm a coward. You might assume I was mortally terrified of the inevitable backlash, the internet pitchforks, or the judgmental comments from people who take fanfiction a tad too seriously. And while, yes, the thought of internet drama is enough to give anyone hives, that wasn't the primary reason.
My reason was far more pretentious, frankly. I looked at those prompts and thought: "Incest? Ageplay? But where is the challenge? Where is the narrative tightrope? Where is the deep-lore application? I simply couldn't see myself writing for such trivial things."
I know, I know. It sounds ridiculous, given what I did end up writing . But hear me out: Incest felt like a cheap narrative trick. Ageplay felt like low-hanging fruit. I didn't want the easy, obvious controversy; I wanted the high-concept, complicated controversy that requires three paragraphs of detailed explanation in the author's note! My morals certainly played a role—I don't like those two themes—but truthfully, my writer's ego couldn't be satisfied with them either. I needed a prompt that made me earn my depravity, something that required a 500-word justification about the temporal mechanics of a gag.
So, while others bravely (or foolishly) tackled those days, I sat at my desk, sipping lukewarm tea, and smugly declaring, "No, thank you. I'll save my moral integrity for the day I have to write about... well, anything involving the backdoor, really." (Which, yes, I initially avoided because anything anal-related felt like too much of a commitment, but then I realized: you're going to write smut, go big or go home. And thus, Day 24 was born.) In summary: I didn't write Incest or Ageplay, not because I'm afraid of being judged, but because I was bored. And that, my friends, is peak artistic hubris.
Chapter IV: The Consent Tightrope Walk (Or, My Masterful Narrative Loophole)
Ah, consent. The bedrock of any good relationship, fictional or otherwise. And yet, Kinktober demands the forbidden fruit. This is where my greatest narrative acrobatics took place.
If you look through my entire body of Kinktober work, you'll notice a pattern: a significant chunk of it involves non-consent (non-con) or its slightly gentler, but still questionable, cousin, dubious consent. However, I have a solemn promise to myself and to you, the dear, long-suffering reader: it never stays that way.
My goal was to satisfy the prompt while adhering to my personal, non-negotiable belief that true, powerful, and sexy intimacy requires agency. So, every fic that starts with a scenario like, say, Kronii taking advantage of Mumei's inherent wildness or Mumei having a momentary lapse of memory, is followed by the most aggressive, detailed, and utterly crucial narrative beat of the entire story: the moment of transition.
I call this the "Consensual Mid-Fic Pivot." It's a delicate dance: the character who was initially coerced or ambushed snaps back, asserts their agency, or verbally confirms—with zero ambiguity—that they are now fully on board with the proceedings. We don't just gloss over it. We stop the action, establish clear boundaries, and then the party continues, only this time, it's fueled by genuine, enthusiastic agreement.
The reason for this is two-fold: First, I personally find consent sexy—it's the ultimate power exchange because it means both parties are in on the game. Second, it was the only way I could justify following the non-con prompt. It was a meta-challenge: Can I write a non-con prompt that ends up being wildly consensual? Yes. Yes, I can. Because I'm a novelist who's been starved for plot progression, and even my smut needs a narrative arc. If the other party of the characters agreed on the flow of the story later on, it's not me backtracking; it's me writing character development. It's me making good, fictional choices, darn it!
Chapter V: The Lore Deep Dive (Or, When Smut Required a PhD)
You might be thinking, "This is just fanfiction smut. Why the fuss?" Because, my friend, I am an author of The Tome of Eternal Drafts, and I demand verisimilitude. Every single one-shot had to be lore-accurate (at least).
Take Day 3: Alien Abduction. You bet your sweet cosmic butt I chose the obvious, lore-compliant choice: the Alien Stage girls! I meticulously analyzed the color schemes, the hair physics, and the specific sonic emissions of their stage performances to ensure maximum abduction verisimilitude. It was a grueling, two-hour lore deep-dive that confirmed one thing: this is not just smut; this is smut with academic rigor.
I did this for every single day. For instance, for the Chaos Kink prompt, I obviously went with Gold Ship. The Praise Kink prompt immediately screamed Jungle Pocket. And for the deeply complicated Experimentation prompt, who else but Agnes Tachyon? I even meticulously reviewed Mejiro McQueen's entire race history just to determine her Restraint compatibility. I had to read every single wiki, re-watch every clip, and analyze every passive-aggressive tweet just to determine the kink viability and lore compatibility of the characters.
I have spent more time linking the mechanics of Breath Play to a character's internal psychological trauma than I ever spent developing the magic system for my own novel. This is where the Kinktober challenge truly broke me: it forced me to use my academic research skills for the most trivial and self-indulgent of tasks. It was a glorious, exhausting waste of brainpower, and it confirmed one thing: I am incapable of doing anything half-heartedly. If I'm going to write smut, it's going to be PhD-level smut.
Chapter VI: The Final Disclaimer (Or, You've Read Too Much. Now Go Away.)
Before the final disclaimer, I need to address one thing that is absolutely crucial to my continued survival: I am a woman, and I wrote these stories for women. My primary audience, the one I had in my head the entire time, was the female gaze. This isn't for the "male gaze" or whatever highly complicated term you internet theorists have coined for it this week. This is messy, emotional, and very much written from a feminine perspective of desire and power. If you're a man (or anyone else, for that matter) reading this, then great! Enjoy the ride! But just know who I'm blushing for.
And let's be absolutely clear: I do not have these kinks that are on the prompt list! The sole reason I dove into topics like Somnophilia and the more demanding entries was for research and knowledge a bizarre form of academic field work, where the goal was to understand the nuances enough to write about them compellingly.
You've made it. You survived the memoir, the justifications, and the rambling confession of a morally ambiguous author. Now for the final, most important part—the part where I legally and morally absolve myself of everything, like a proper, responsible adult.
I want to be perfectly clear: I do not condone non-consensual activities in real life. As I stated approximately 5,000 words ago in this very note, I find consent sexy and beautiful. The power dynamics, the trust, the enthusiastic agreement—that is the good stuff. The Non-Con and Dubious Consent elements in these stories are purely fictional devices used to explore difficult themes and, more importantly, to fulfill a specific prompt on a stupid calendar. They are not endorsements; they are storytelling tools designed to propel a narrative from a dark start to a consensual, explicit finish. They are just words on a screen, arranged for dramatic effect.
At the end of the day, these are just all fictions. They are imaginary people doing imaginary things in an imaginary universe. If you don't like it—if the themes, the content, or my ridiculous author's note offends your delicate sensibilities—then you have the full power of the internet at your fingertips. You can just block me or something, lol. No one is holding a gun to your head (or a gag to your mouth, unless you're Mumei in Day 24, in which case, check the consensus status!).
Thank you for reading this deeply personal, unnecessarily detailed, and highly embarrassing confessional. Now, go read the fic. My poor, exhausted creativity demands it. And maybe, just maybe, I'll finally go back and write that chapter about the elves and the tax policy. Probably not, though. It's almost time for the next Kinktober.
Sincerely (and sleep-deprived),
The Author of Too Much Smut.