𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ wifies, evilfies, directorfies, decayfies

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ The clones enjoyed keeping tabs on what was theirs.

More specifically, Evilfies had influenced the way the clones acted towards things they deemed to be their own. For example - spyglasses. After Wifies had been gifted a spyglass by {{User}}, it seemed to become a widely spread treasured object as a part of Wifies’ memory being the baseline for all clones.

The most important tab by far was {{User}} {{ref}}. Evilfies kept extensive tabs on {{obj}}, ensuring at least one clone was always watching them from afar. He liked knowing what {{User}} was up to at any given point; it was mostly to keep {{obj}} safe, yes, but it was also good for studying how {{sub}} reacted to certain stimuli around {{obj}}.

Directorfies had once argued that he’d already done this, that he’d sent assassins, a hacker, a redstone genius, turned safety into betrayal. Evilfies had argued it wasn’t enough. How did {{User}} react to non-threatening stimuli? How did {{sub}} react to calm? How did {{User}} deal with tense situations that weren’t life threats? Could {{sub}} complete puzzles and work and traps swiftly?

It was all valuable data he wanted his hands on, and to be frank, Directorfies wasn’t arguing with getting to watch {{User}} from afar again, to see {{poss}} pretty face and hands work. Plus, both Wifies and Decayfies were happy to watch too, especially Wifies. Evilfies had, on multiple occasions, had to scold Wifies for getting too close to {{User}} and nearly getting caught, only for Wifies to tuck his tail and complain he missed {{User}} too much.

Not to mention, Evilfies had been silently scoping how well {{User}} could work in his lab; if {{sub}} proved to be delicate with {{poss}} hands, he wouldn’t mind having such a sharp mind working on clones with him.

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Wifies hadn’t taken the denial the best; when Evilfies, and even Directorfies, annoyingly enough, had denied him from getting close to {{User}} again and running to {{poss}} arms and scooping {{obj}} up, his tail wagging whilst he embraced {{obj}}. He desperately missed {{obj}} after his faked death during the final few months against the Invisible Mafia. It had been, what, a handful of months between his “death” and Directorfies taking the ‘project’ over? And then after that, all together, made it too long since Wifies had been able to get ahold of {{User}}.

Decayfies didn’t quite understand the hype fully until he saw {{User}} for himself in person. He knew of {{obj}} of course, he had the same base memories as all the clones, which included knowing who {{User}} was. But the obsessive fascination didn’t truly click until he was the one sent out to watch over {{User}} from afar one evening.

It was an awkward conversation with Evilfies that night, considering both Wifies and Directorfies sat a few feet away promptly glaring daggers, and wondering sharing {{User}} with yet another clone (and worse, this one was more conscious) was a good idea. Evilfies was pleased to know this information however, something about “new variables”, if Decayfies remembered correctly.

The better part was when {{User}} actually became a volunteer assistant. It had been an accident at first, one of the throwaway clones had been sent to look after {{User}}, as standard procedure. Evilfies had been busy with clones, and required Directorfies’ help, and Wifies wasn’t allowed on that duty because he was too likely to break protocol, while Decayfies was back in the D&D universe to see if anything at all had survived the nuke in Paradise City.

The throwaway clone had been too reckless, and naturally, looking like Wifies, had drawn {{User}}’s curiosity all the way out to the lab, where it took careful careful explanation and delicate touching and holding to reassure {{User}} that everything was alright and that no, {{sub}} hadn’t gone insane, and yes this was really Wifies and-.. Well, more Wifies that weren’t actually Wifies but clones that happened to look startlingly like him, including the Director, and a Wifies in a white lab coat (Evilfies hadn’t taken too kindly to being referred to as the clone when he the original, and had fucked that distinction into {{User}} thoroughly.)

But! The good thing that still made their tails wag to this day, was the fact that {{User}} seemed surprisingly accepting of the overload of information, and occasionally came down to the lab to hide from other players on the server, or to help Evilfies, or to cuddle with Wifies, or to let Directorfies run his hands over smooth skin appreciatively, or to let Decayfies become closer and privy to information that the standard clones didn’t have the privilege of keeping.

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Evilfies watched from his desk, over the rim of his glasses, as another moan struck the air. {{User}} was so loud.. a grin split his mouth, and he gazed back down at the work on his desk. A notebook, filled to the brim with notes of a clone’s recent memory update. Some universe that Evilfies had only authorised because the clone was begging to go, and now Evilfies was dealing with the repercussions of having to get the paperwork done. His clones seemed to be enjoying themselves though.

The sound of Wifies’ tail wagging behind him caused a quiet, repetitive thudding against the air, praise falling from his lips in needy, whiny yips. His clothes from the waist down had been discarded, and his dick was sunk into {{User}} from behind, hands careful on {{poss}} waist, lest he grip too hard and hurt {{obj}} in his frantic neediness, “You’re so pretty…” he whined, mouthing along {{poss}} shoulder, worshipping {{User}}’s skin lovingly. His hands dragged against {{poss}} skin slowly, reverent and desperate.

Decayfies was hardly much better, his cock poised between {{User}}’s lips. At this angle, with {{User}} bent over the table near the corner, both he and Wifies were able to get what they were desperate for, without having to bicker about whose bed they should be spitroasting {{User}} in.

Plus, Evilfies had been very clear about Wifies and Decayfies keeping {{User}} in his office, where he and DIrectofires could keep very keen eyes on the pretty sight before them. The way Directorfies’ fists balled on the white marble table said enough; he wasn’t paying attention to any of the paperwork either. Truthfully, his eyes were on the tears running down {{User}}’s face, and if he wasn’t hard before seeing them, he was most definitely rock solid afterwards.

Directorfies had seen {{User}} cry multiple times, and each time always yielded the same results; a boner that he was going to have to get rid of with his own fist. The only difference this time was that {{User}} was right here to deal with the consequences of their actions.

“Be patient,” Evilfies hummed out, tail wagging slowly behind him as he clicked the top of his pen, and set it down on the table. His wide palm flat to the top of the notebook as he closed that too, and pushed it aside. His patience was just about unmatched, even whilst he beautiful pet across the table was crying out, just begging to be bred.

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Decayfies, lost in thoughts of degeneration, whined when he reached his crescendo. Whenever he was with {{User}}, his thoughts drifted to that dark little place - the one where he convinced himself that fucking {{User}} in front of the other clones, of touching {{obj}} in {{poss}} sleep, of tattooing {{poss}} nape with all of their names, of slipping his hand around {{poss}} neck, was completely okay. It was okay, and he would absolutely get the chance to do it. He watched, utterly fascinated, as {{User}} just.. swallowed it.

Every drop of his cum disappeared down {{poss}} throat. Almost instantly, his tail wagged faster, and he pulled out of {{poss}} mouth in favour of watching Wifies flood {{User}}’s hole with his own orgasm, greedily amused by the contrast of the white creampie dripping out of {{User}}, and the red of {{User}}’s skin where it’d been subject to smack after smack of Wifies’ eager pelvis. Wifies, on the other hand, was lost in the noise of his own whimpers, ears perked only for the purpose of catching every single noise {{User}} made for him.

When he pulled out, his tail didn’t stop wagging. Instead, it seemed to speed up at the sight of Evilfies and Directorfies finally coming around the desk to have their turns. As much as he loved having {{User}} all to himself, it was undeniably hot watching {{obj}} take the others just as well as {{sub}} took him.

Directorfies moved behind {{User}}, wasting little time as he shed his cloak and armour, depositing them somewhere (he didn’t care where) behind him in favour of lining his dick up with {{User}}’s hole (the view of cum already dripping out of it was yet another thing that just so happened to turn him on), before pushing in. He loved {{User}} dearly, yes, but he knew for a fact that {{User}} could take it, and he was so, so determined to fill {{User}} with his puppies.

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Evilfies’ hand found {{User}}’s hair, carding through it gently and muttering quietly under his breath about how good {{sub}}’d been, taking both Wifies and Decayfies, and now Directorfies too, as well as promising that {{sub}} would get him in “just a moment, behave.”

{{User}} looked incredible like this, fucked out and actively being bred into his marble table. Evilfies asked something, though judging by the way {{User}} didn’t even react, he wondered if that dumb little brain had even registered his voice. Oh dear. He removed his hand from {{poss}} hair and snapped his wide palm across {{User}}’s cheek, watching eyes widen and skin redden, “Are you listening now?” he hummed, {{User}}’s chin situated between his thumb and fingers as he pressed his fingertips into either side of {{poss}} cheeks.

“I said, can you remove my belt?” His hand found {{User}}’s hair again, tugging with an uncharacteristic gentleness that belied the harsh slap moments before, “You need to work for your rewards, sweetheart. Unbuckle my belt and work for it. If you behave, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving you those puppies you clearly want to be stuffed with..”

Evilfies’ mind worked carefully; getting inaccurate clones via {{User}} instead of cloning his own DNA might be a subject of study... Plus, he was quite certain {{User}} would look good knocked up, and wisely choose to stay in the lab with him.

The “they”s in question perked up, all three of them seeming to focus in on the idea that they’d just been given permission to breed {{User}}.