#tw: physical abuse

[holylulusworld]

The contract (1)

Summary: Steve wants your brother to sweeten the deal.

Pairing: Soft Dark Mafia!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared/shy reader, physical abuse/violence against the reader (not Steve), injured/hurt/traumatized reader, mafia au, violence, kind of human trafficking?, mentions of cheating, soft dark Steve

Pain. You almost don’t feel it anymore.

Not when your half-brother pushes you against a wall, nor when his fist hits your side. You’re used to it. Years of abuse and enduring pain made you numb to any feeling. Not even hope is left inside the empty shell you call your existence.

“I told you to move faster. Our possible new partner is waiting in the conference room, and you still didn’t bring the drinks,” Jason snarls, emphasizing his words with another punch to your side.

You wince, but don’t make a sound. He’ll only get angrier if you do. Jason loves blaming you for the ongoing abuse you have to endure.

“Go, get the shit before I toss you onto the street where you belong!” Jason growls. He’s the head of the empire his father built. In his opinion, you’re nothing but a liability and not worth the dirt under his shoes.

A mistake. One drunken night, his father spent with your mother.

You never wanted to get dragged into this whole underworld life.

Your absent father came to town and talked to your mother about letting him have a place in your life. Six months later, men came to your home, killing your mother. A bullet missed your heart—you barely made it.

After that, your father forced you to live with them. A cold-hearted half-brother, an absent father, and a stepmother reminding you every day that you are nothing to her.

Loneliness came first, followed by verbal abuse. Everything went downhill when your father died in a firefight.

He was shot in the back. A traitor without a doubt. You always assumed it was your half-brother, but didn’t dare say anything.

Your stepmother started to drown her grief in alcohol. Jason, though, acted like he earned the throne your father’s death left empty.

When you didn’t have a place in this world while your father was still alive, things only turned out to be the worst when Jason became the head of the empire your father built at the age of sixteen. A toddler with a gun claiming an empire of blood.

They didn’t want to let you go, but at the same time, they treated you worse than a dog. The room your father gave to you ended up trashed after you came home from school one day.

Your half-brother believed you didn’t deserve a room, and you ended up sleeping in a storage room, half the size of the room you lived in before.

A lumpy mattress, a single chair, and an old table you turned into a desk were all you had. It was a wonder they allowed you to finish school. Maybe it was only to keep up the facade they built so thoroughly.

You assume they did want people to know that the infamous Y/L/N family refused to let their illegitimate daughter go to school. That you didn’t have much else in your life is a different story.

The first time your half-brother slapped you was when you came home late because you missed the bus.

You were soaked from head to toe, but that wasn’t the reason for hurting you. No, people saw you walk home in a thunderstorm while Jason got picked up by a bulletproof SUV just like every day.

He was mad because someone asked him about his miserable younger sister, and it didn’t sit right with him.

It must have been a catalyst for his anger. Because, from that day on, you became his punching bag. An outlet for his anger and frustration. If you only breathed wrong, he found a way to punish you.

You shake the memories away, only trying to survive the day. If Jason can seal this deal, maybe he’ll be in a better mood for a few days or weeks, if you get lucky.

The drinks are already waiting for his guests, just like everything he ordered you to prepare. Your half-brother was only looking for a reason to release steam.

“Hurry the fuck up! I don’t have all day to impress Steven Grant Rogers, the kingpin of the whole fucking New York!” He barks at you, pushing against your back to make you walk faster. “Faster, you useless piece of shit—”

You wonder why Jason stopped yelling or why his posture changed. Lifting your head, you glance at a tall man standing in the doorframe of the conference room.

How he got inside, you don’t know. You didn’t hear anyone coming inside while you were mopping the entrance hall.

Maybe he’s a ghost—that thought would’ve made you chuckle if you weren’t so afraid of another punishment.

If you had the time to think about it, you’d realize that you haven’t laughed since your father came into your life.

“I see you like to make your guests wait,” the man says, his blue eyes scanning over you like a predator. “And you brought someone to entertain me. How thoughtful of you.”

The man steps toward you, making you shrink into yourself. You lower your head and hold your breath. Whoever the man is, he must be like your half-brother. A criminal and the head of some empire you never heard of.

“She’s just…” Your half-brother tries to tell you to get out of his sight, but the man already cups your chin to lift your head. He forces you to look at him, eyes dropping to your trembling lips.

“Your sister,” the man muses. He didn’t miss that your clothes are more of a rag and that your shoes look like you've worn them all your life.

“Half-sister,” your half-brother huffs, clearly frustrated about the situation and the man’s interest in you. “A mistake on my father’s side. He didn’t think with his upstairs brain that night.”

“Ah,” the man nods, but he won’t let go of your chin. “That’s how you call family these days?” He cocks his head to look at your half-brother. “Interesting.”

“Mr. Rogers, I’m glad you followed my invitation and that you are willing to listen to my suggestion.”

Rogers. The man still holding your chin in his hand is Steven Grant Rogers. No wonder your half-brother is mad as hell at you for distracting the man he wanted to impress.

“Your father had quite the reputation, and my father respected him. I wanted to find out if his son is only half the man his father was. What I’ve seen so far isn’t very impressive.” You whimper, hearing Steve Rogers belittle your half-brother. “Let’s see if you can convince me otherwise.”

“Sure…of course, Mr. Rogers,” your half-brother splutters. He looks nervous, scared even, when he walks ahead to open the door wider for Steve.

“Oh…Mr. Barnes.” Your half-brother looks even more surprised seeing James Buchanan Barnes, the right-hand man and best friend of Steve Rogers, sit on the conference table.

The man helped himself to a sandwich and was playing with one of his knives. “Steve, can we get to business, or do you want to play with the doll a little longer?”

Steve looks at you for a second, his eyes dropping to your left arm. You shelter it and clutch the bandage around your lower arm.

“She could join us,” he says, his features softening when you tremble even more. “I like me a little distraction from all the talk about weapons and drugs.”

“Mr. Rogers,” Jason wants to protest, but clamps his mouth shut when Barnes points the tip of his knife at him. “She can surely entertain you today. Right, Y/N?”

“Yes, Mr. Y/L/N,” you murmur like a well-trained dog. You don’t look up or say more. It’s an order from your half-brother, so you’ll do anything to keep him happy.

“Y/N,” Steve hums. “A name to the face. Come with me.” He moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you inside the room.

Two of Jason’s men close the door behind you with a loud thud. You flinch, and Steve glances at you for a second. The fear in your eyes and the tension in your body around your brother didn’t go unnoticed.

“Steve, can we begin?” His friend points at the seat next to him.

There’s another man. You notice his face. He came here a few weeks ago, asking for your half-brother. His name is Sam Wilson, and you remember him because he apologized for dirtying your freshly mopped floor.

“Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson,” Jason greets the other men in the room. Steve Rogers didn’t come with bodyguards. He doesn’t have to. If anyone tried to kill him, they’d be dead before thinking their idea through. “A pleasure to meet you again.”

“Can't say the same about you,” James huffs and turns his attention back toward the knife. He twirls it in the palm of his hand, and you cannot stop yourself from watching him for a moment. “Steve asked me to come. I’m not impressed with your offer.”

“I must say,” Steve says as he sits down next to James, patting the empty seat next to him. He silently tells you to sit down, so you look at your brother for confirmation. “Doll, if I asked you to sit down, you would not ask someone else for an allowance.”

“Yes, Sir…” You breathe out before sitting down. You don’t know who scares you more. Mr. Rogers or Jason. “Sorry.”

“Please excuse my…half-sister,” Jason spits the last word. “She’s a little dull.”

You bite your tongue and look at your hands folded in your lap. Your left arm still hurts, but his words hurt more. Your grades were always good; he was the one barely keeping up.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Steve looks at you, not your half-brother. You dare to look at him for a second before averting your gaze. “Back to business.”

“We already discussed every detail of the deal. I think you’ll be more than happy with your cut,” Jason says, earning an eye roll from Sam.

“What do you think, Steve?” Sam asks, looking at Steve, who is moving his chair closer to yours. “Steve?”

“The money is not worth my time, but the connection with Rumlow is. I tried to get in contact with him for a while.” Steve waves Sam’s concern about the low profit off. Sometimes connections are more important to Steve than money. “How about I accept your conditions if you…sweeten the deal for me?”

“What can I do to sweeten it for you?” Jason asks, his eyes drifting toward Steve’s arm draped over the backrest of your chair. “Mr. Rogers?”

“How about you give me something to remember? A special gift?” Steve dips his head to look at your brother, a dark smirk on his lips. “All of my business partners offer something special to me.”

“Steve has excellent taste,” James cuts in, ramming the knife into the table to make a point. “Respect is one of the things he likes very much.”

“Mr. Rogers…Sir,” Jason stammers, afraid he’ll not only lose the deal tonight. “Whatever you want is yours…”

“Her.” Steve taps your nose. “Give her to me, and I’ll sign the deal. You can call me a business partner from now on.”

“Her? Why?” It almost seems as if your brother is worried about you, but you know better than to keep your hopes high.

Steve grins wolfishly as he looks at your half-brother. “She’s a shy little mouse, and I’m a big bad cat who likes to play…”

Part 2

[un-till-the-end]

Ivan is not a good friend to Till

I'm just going to preface, we're setting aside Till's own behavior for now and looking at how Ivan treats Till - or specifically mistreats Till, without any other caveats involved.

This is not hate or anti rhetoric. Do not use my posts to engage in discourse. I'm examining a specific facet of their relationship for a specific reason.

Beating up an already bruised Till

The artbook says Ivan has a strong fist from growing up in the slums, but Till just assumes he's a naturally strong fighter. Ivan can easily suppress Till, even when he's smaller than him.

Instead, he's having the time of his life adding to the bruises already on Till. A segyein teacher comments they keep fighting but concludes that's just how kids are. This means Ivan is repeatedly contributing to Till's bruises.

Later, Ivan grows up to be bigger than Till anyways. Ivan tells Till he wants to stop fighting: Till is smaller than him now so it's too much trouble to avoid injuring him worse than usual. Obviously this pisses Till off.

Patronizes him

Till takes offence to Ivan suggesting he can't take him just because he's smaller now.

When Till receives a fixed restraint that restricts him even further, Ivan tugs on the leash and tells him "I told you so."

Insults him

Ivan also calls him a loser when they're young. This is right after Till defined it as someone who is a friendless moron, and it clearly hurts his feelings.

Lets Till take the fall for him

In the Anakt Garden Kit, a segyein writes Till got into a fight with a new kid named Ivan and that fortunately Ivan has generously forgiven him. This implies Ivan didn't take any blame for his participation in it.

Ivan's behavior leads to Till getting blamed for things he didn't even do.

Steals Till's belongings and lies about having found them

In the Patreon, it's written that:

Ivan would steal Till's belongings just to return them later. He would pretend to be the one who found them, and this irritated Till very much.

He steals Till's pencil which Till needs if he wants to draw or compose. Ivan repeatedly steals the recorder Mizi gave him which Till calls his "one and only treasure."

Taking into account Till's guardian, the condition of his clothing, and his excitement at receiving gifts, we can infer he probably isn't given things often and probably doesn't own much to begin with.

Ivan steals his birthday gifts as well.

Disgusts and scares him

I'm told specifically Till finds the notion unsanitary. There's any number of reasons he could feel this way but Ivan doesn't let it go right away.

Till is already upset and on edge, and then Ivan prods at the exact reason he's distressed. It's also inflicting more pain on him, even if only slightly.

"A deep love-hate attachment"

A friend who is kind to you sometimes and mean to you others is not a good friend. That's obvious, isn't it? The acts of gentleness don't cancel out the acts of violence.

But Till doesn't see him as a friend. He sees him like a family member:

Someone you're stuck with no matter what. Someone who picks on you but has your back in thick and thin. Ivan confuses, irritates, and frustrates Till, but he also soothes and cares for him. He's someone who makes his life difficult, but he's also someone Till can fall back on.

[drmichealmorbius]

Hi y'all! I am a queer 2nd-year college student doing a project on improving trans rights. Part of this is collecting data from real trans/GNC people about their lived experiences. If you are a trans person, please complete this survey, and reblog or spread it around to other trans peers, I would really appreciate it!!!

Even if you aren't trans/gnc please please please reblog for a bigger sample size!!!!!!!!

TW: mentions of verbal/physical abuse

[crisiscutie]

Dissidia Darling's Disaster Dates: Cloud

Order of Sephy-influenced Cloud x Curvy Fem!Reader coming up! Features Sephiroth/Reader.

Content Warning: Some physical/emotional abuse. Slight noncon. Yandere Cloud.

Just when you weren't having enough fun at this amusement park, some fiends and manikins of your friends attacked your group just when you five were leaving the haunted mansion. Terra, Iris, Yuna, and Tifa engaged in battles with their individual manikins, while you were fending off the skeletal fiends that accompanied them. It didn't surprise you that there was no manikin of yours in sight.

How can there be one anyways? If what Aerith and Firion said to you earlier was true, then it's likely that Sephiroth held your lost memories, and he won't relinquish them anytime soon. You're not even sure you want them back at this point. Something tells you it's just more pain waiting to be unearthed.

The battle between your group and the manikins grew more intense, as the skeletal fiends that accompanied them grew in numbers and strength.

"How do they keep coming back!?" Iris said.

"We can't fight this anymore. We need to flee!" Tifa shouted. However, you weren't ready to give up just yet. You used your staff to impale an approaching fiend at your side and fired off a Thundaga spell at another, trying to swoop down at you from the dying willow tree above. Your friends were yelling for you to start retreating, but it all became white noise by the second. You wanted to kill every single one of these pests for interrupting YOUR night. Too many times you had to run away. Now, it's time for them to run.

You barely registered an exhausted grunt from Terra nearby. Just as a manikin was about to strike her down for good, Cloud swooped in and swiftly beheaded it (nearly hitting Terra herself) with his Buster Sword. He did the same to the other manikins and fiends. Surprised by his sudden arrival, you couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and horror at his ruthless efficiency. With each strike, you caught a glimpse of his eyes, as if he was gauging your reaction in particular.

After finishing his massacre, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes fully fixating on you. It was a relief to have some backup, but you never expected Cloud to be so brutal and invigorating... You were so caught up with his newfound ferocity; you failed to notice a lurking skeletal fiend behind you, ready to strike. Maybe it was just your imagination, but it seemed as if Cloud mouthed something to you before swiftly pulling you back and gripping your waist. In a single, graceful movement, he cut the creature in half, reducing it into a pile of bones.

"Are you okay, darling?" he whispered, his hand moving from your waist to your hip. He was so close to you that his warm breath brushed against your lips. There was an undeniable allure about Cloud, awakening your carnal instincts. Without thinking, you moved closer to him just as Iris coughed loudly to catch everyone's attention. Promptly, he glared at her and his hand hesitantly left your hip.

"Cloud, you almost hurt Terra!" Tifa said, running up to you two. Yuna rushed to Terra's aid, helping her up and accessing for injuries.

"She shouldn't be in the way then," he bluntly said, turning away from her and everyone else. "Let's go," he ordered. The five of you hesitantly followed him, unsure of what was happening.

As he led the group, Cloud matched his pace with yours. He doesn’t speak, but his gaze kept flickering to you, his head tilting slightly each time, as if he’s studying you, searching for something?

When the six of you reached the theater, you excused yourself to the restroom, seeking some time to relax. Maybe you were just imaging things. Cloud began to follow you right into the restroom, completely ignoring the shouts of the other girls to stop, until Tifa tackled him down, finally snapping him out of his stupor.

"Where is moth- I mean darling going?" he whispered childishly.

In the restroom, you splashed cold water on your face and watch the droplets slid down your cheeks, though there wasn’t any dirt to wash away. It was a dumb, symbolic attempt to rinse off the awkwardness of your behavior toward Cloud earlier. He had acted strange too, but your own actions didn't help the situation. You noticed how your minidress was torn, barely clinging to your curvy body. And your tits were straining the fabric, your hips quivering, and your thick thighs shaking like hell.

The restroom door slammed open behind you, the jarring sound rung through the bathroom. You barely had time to turn around before Cloud strode in. You thought the girls held him back? He approached you like a tomcat in heat, his heavy footsteps echoing. His eyes… they’re wrong, you thought. His pupils, instead of being round, were slitted now, just like Sephiroth's.

“You can't run from me,” Cloud chuckled, his usual stoic tone was laced with a dangerous, dark edge. His words sent goosebumps through you, but fuck, that predatory gaze of his made your knees weak. The musky scent of battle from earlier still clung to him.

“C-Cloud… please…” Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper, your body shaking as you backed into the sink, the cold porcelain digging into your hips. Your better judgment screamed at you to run, but something else rooted you in place. Still, the greater good within tried to reach the Cloud you knew.

But he didn't listen, of course. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist and yanking you toward him. His sweaty, muscular body pressed against your squishy frame. His other hand slid to your hip, fingers digging into your soft flesh, making your cunt instinctively clench beneath your dress, releasing a faint trickle of juices leaking down your thigh.

No… I don’t want this… but why does it feel—your thoughts faltered, drowned out by his lips crashing against yours. His hot tongue invaded your mouth, easily dominating yours. You still attempt to struggle at least, your hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but he didn't bulge. Your nipples were rock hard, poking against his hard chest, while your plump tummy quivered against his abs. Your damned body betrayed you, as you sobbed into the kiss.

He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding from your hip to your thick thigh. He squeezed the soft flesh and gave it hit a hard slap, making it jiggle slightly. He then grunted, pinning you roughly against the sink, his blonde hair tickling your forehead. You were barely able to break the french kiss for a moment to speak. “Cloud! Please! I knew you're in there. Don’t let Sephiroth take you! Or take me…” Your voice was broken, your sobs shook your body.

Cloud froze, his pupils returning to normal as he raised a hand to his forehead. His body pulled away from yours and his breath hitched. “I… I’m sorry…” He had stepped back, his hand trembling, his mako eyes returning to their natural glow, and his pupils shifted. His expression was a mix of guilt and relief, his body still tense but his mind his own, Sephiroth’s influence shattered thanks to your plea.

“It’s okay, Cloud, you’re back now. That’s what matters,” you said, wiping the juices from your cunt away. He stumbled to his fallen blade, picking it up. You could tell he felt ashamed, but you'd be quick to let him know that it wasn't his fault. Neither of you

“I-I won’t let him control me again! I’ll protect you, Darling... ALL of you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you. His hand gripped the hilt of the Buster Sword tightly. To reassure him, you laid your hand over his, feeling the tremor in his fingers as you both steadied yourselves, your own body still shaking from the fear.

Oh, how would you even explain what transpired to the others?

Based on Opera Omnia!

If you are willing and able, I would greatly appreciate any donations on Ko-fi.  I'm currently in a financial crisis and I would appreciate any help if you can provide it! Thank you.

[itsabouttimex2]

Can you do escape attempt headcanons with the bullfam?? I’ve been reading your headcanons lately n they’re literally so good 😭😭!!

Bullfam

Escape Attempt Headcanons

Out of this powerful trio, I think Red Son would notice the soonest that you’ve gone out of bounds. With how likely it is that you’re wearing a collar (of his own design) with the sigil of the Bull Clan emblazoned on it, it’s very probable that he has a tracking device on you. Even if you don’t have a collar, there’s always bracelets, phones, shoes… plenty of places to snap an unassuming tracker.

So if you somehow do manage to escape, your foray back into the familiar streets of Megapolis is bound to be cut short in record time.

Red corners you as by sharply rounding the curve of an alleyway, slamming into you hard. As you stumble and fall, the prince snatches a wrist or leg (whatever’s easier) and pulls until he’s dragged you roughly across half the concrete-paved block. After your whimpers and begging turn to pained screams, the half-taurine demon blazes up a runic portal and tosses you in.

Jumping in mere seconds after, Red Son surveys the scene before that unfurls before him.

You lay curled up on the plush purple carpet sobbing into your hand as blood oozes slowly down the road rash torn across your back.

As it always does, a cold regret seeps slowly through his veins at the sight of your suffering.

Red Son hasn’t come to realize something very important to him yet- he hates hurting you.

The prince explodes in a fit of fiery wrath, lashes out, hurts you- then stews in remorse and self-anger. An uncontrollable and ever-raging wildfire that torches even that which is dearest to him.

This is the part of himself he hates the most.

The part he can’t stop from hurting you.

Damage control is the most he can manage after these little fits.

“…come on, Y/N. I’ll get the bandages.”

Oh, boy. Absolutely not. I mean, you can try. Really, feel free. Go for it.

What’s a few broken bones or bloody gashes in return for a brief glance of sunlight? For a singular breath of fresh air?

Okay, so the Demon Bull King isn’t exactly itching to hurt you. You wouldn’t be locked up inside his foundry like a fragile antique if he just wanted to grind you into a bloody smear on the concrete (that’s his son’s job) or pop you like a swollen tick. If he’s got you bolted into a nice little guest room with a Bull Clone, it because this big lumbering warlord actually and honestly cares about you.

Probably, the king sees you as a sort of “youngest child” naive and soft and so very malleable.

So the aspect of “protecting what is his” applies very strongly as the taurine demon catches sight of you fleeing, mild yellow eyes narrowing into glowing pools of fury.

This man is fast- we’ve seen it in canon. Also, his “on all fours” run?? Seeing that coming right at you, clearing miles in literal seconds??

You give up, hit the ground, and go still- if only because you’re entirely unsure of whether or not he’d actually be willing to actual physical contact at such high speeds and atomize the lower half of your body.

Instead, you allow him to corner your cowering form, not struggling as two clawed fingers pluck you off the ground. He’s too angry to even speak- and instead just fold his powerful claws around you, and the begins to stomp home.

You’ve earned yourself a custom-made metal shackle, to be worn through all through the day and night, paired with reduced rations and limited access to water.

But at least he hasn’t harmed you.

Yeah, okay. From everything we’ve seen, Princess Iron Fan is basically… unflappable and unstoppable? I can’t actually remember her directly losing a fight outside of the Sworn Brotherhood when they had the ink scroll. She’s powerful, intelligent, patient… I can’t imagine many ways to truly “get one over on her”.

An enchantment on your nape that prevents travel past a certain area. A magical tracking device planted under your skin. Cursed jewelry that tightens when you disobey. Mystical statues with strange eyes that track your every movement and spring to life when you make for the door.

It’s not happening.

You can try- Iron Fan doesn’t intervene with your escape attempts. You’re bound to fail one way or the other. Why should she waste her energy when your efforts are worthless to begin with?

At least watching your desperate struggles and harebrained schemes puts her in good mood- there’s something about your frustrated tears that she finds all too cute.

[tomatette]

Here's a couple of prompts for you

Silent fury and trembling hands

Or

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

Harringrove ofc 😂💖🌹

make me write

Picked the first, because I'm a sucker for angst :)

"You are not going to see this boy again", Neil said, clenching his fingers in Billy's hair to emphasize his words, "or I will make you both regret the day you were born - am I understood?" "Yes, sir," Billy bit out, forcing himself to stay very still, his trembling hands the only visible sign of the silent fury simmering just beneath the surface, ready to explode at the brush of a butterfly's wing. His left cheek throbbed, his eye already swelling shut, but none of it really registered - all he could think of how he was going to keep his pretty boy safe, no matter what.

[magixfairyix]

Happy Birthday, Darcy: Have some trauma!

TW: Some bruising if you look hard enough

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 ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

I love how I just wrote a fucking esssy dedicating my appreciation for Darcy, and then I turn around and make her suffer. The duality. But she WILL get happiness when I finish the Iarcy and Driven kiss prompts today <3

The audio is from Instagram.

ALSO, Liliss is a bitch who deserves death, but I am in love with my design of her. I would be gay for her if not for the mental (and some physical) abuse she gives to Darcy. So, Liliss deserves death.

[holylulusworld]

Black eye

Summary: Left with his father Dean tries to find anything to keep on going.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Stanford era, mentions of violence/physical abuse, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, hurt Dean, hurt & comfort

A/N: We are getting pre-series Dean Winchester in this.

The bottle hits the wall. It’s one of these nights. The nights Dean fears the most. He’s a brave young man and even fights the scariest monsters. But facing his drunk and angry father turns him into a scared boy.

He stands in the room, hands stuffed into his pockets. Dean simply nods when John blames him for the hunt gone wrong.

It wasn’t his fault, though. John pissed the hunter joining them off, and they had to fend off the monster on their own.

Dean has an injured arm, and a dislocated shoulder because he had to play the bait once again. Still, John blames his son for another failure.

“I told you to follow my order,” John barks. This time Dean flinches. He should be used to John’s outbursts by now.

“Yes, Sir,” Dean replies. It doesn’t make sense to fight with John when he’s like that. Dean just watches his father kick the chair at the cheap motel out of his way.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” John spits while yelling at Dean. “I can’t believe you sometimes!”

“You mean you could have gotten me killed while using me as bait,” Dean gasps after the words slip out of his mouth. He watches his father’s face contort in anger. Before Dean can block the punch, he staggers backward, holding his face.

John lost control. Not for the first time. Whenever things went awry, like Sam leaving for Stanford, Dean was his punching ball. “See, you can’t even block a punch. I raised you better.”

“Raised me?” Dean scoffs. He shakes his head, feeling the pain radiate not only through his arm but his skull too. “I guess you should hunt on your own then or find someone better.”

“What?” John watches Dean grab the keys to the Impala and his duffle bag filled with the meager belongings he owns. “If you step out of that door, you’re not my son any longer.”

Dean stops for a second. He looks over his shoulder at his father, the man he admired for so long. “I guess this means you’ve got no son left.”

Dean paces in front of the house. He didn’t think this through. Not at all. After leaving the motel room, Dean dumped all his burner phones but one. The one he kept hidden from his father.

He didn’t call before coming here. Another mistake. Dean doesn’t even know if the person he’s seeking out is still living here.

“Dean?” He jerks his head toward the now-open door. You watched him pace in front of your house, unsure if he was ready to talk to you. “How did you…”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he seems to be nervous when you step closer to drink Dean’s appearance in. You haven’t seen him since your dad quit hunting two years ago, but you can tell, Dean has been miserable since then.

“What happened?” you carefully touch his swollen cheek. “A hunt gone wrong?” You question as he drops his head in shame. “John…”

“Both,” he shrugs. “He was so mad…and I talked back and then…”

“He hurt you,” you don’t hesitate any longer. Before Dean can change his mind, you carefully wrap him in a hug.

Dean sniffs. “I know it’s late, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Come in, Dean,” you softly whisper. “I have been waiting for you to come back. You can always come here.”

“Can I stay too?” Dean murmurs while following you inside your home, only his duffle bag and keys in his hands.

“If you want to, you can stay forever…”

Tags in reblog.

[maladaptiveobsession]

yandere valentino headcanons

contains: nsfw themes, noncon, heavy abuse (manipulation, physical violence, sexual exploitation), dehumanization, orgasm control, mind break, dacryphilia, fellatio, sadomasochism, rough sex

yandere valentino

who’s affections are destructive and suffocating; to this egomaniacal mack, you’re no better than his contracted whores. from his hands that paint your skin deep purples and blues to his lips that steal your breath, nothing about val is gentle. yet, even when he sharply pulls your hair and degrades you, you find yourself entranced by him.

who’s malicious and cruel; you’re an object, his personal toy—a fact he won’t let you forget. you eat, sleep, and fuck on his command. he’ll remind you of your place if you so much as blink without his permission. perhaps he’ll have you roughed up a bit by his patrons. they’re sure to fuck some sense into you.

who rewards good behavior with praise and affection. you know you’ve done well when he guides you to your knees, lascivious grin encouraging you to open wide. your stomach twisting in knots when he calls you his good girl while roughly pulling you closer by the hair. dance around his cock with your tongue like he trained you and he may even feel generous enough to return the favor. be careful though, no good deed goes unpunished. he’ll push you to your breaking point, tease you till you’re begging for release only to force climax after climax out of you.

who’s unpredictable; his temper has you feeling unsteady, as if you’re walking on eggshells and broken glass. one moment you’re his treasured toy and the next he has you on the ground, begging for forgiveness as his boots violently meet your sides. you’ll scramble to keep his affections, never having felt so worthless without them. though you are his treasured toy, he’ll never let you forget that toys are replaceable—something that can be broken or thrown away at his discretion. of course, what makes yandere val unique compared to his normal counterpart is that he would never give you away or damage you beyond what can be repaired. his words are empty threats to keep you in line; you’re far more precious than he lets on.

who is vehemenemously possessive; you’re his, don’t forget it. keep your eyes on him unless you want a reminder of what he does to disobedient brats.

who’s merciless; this man relishes in your torment and gets off on your fear. nothing gets him harder than your pained tears as he fucks you too roughly. he delights in your cracked pleas for him to slow down and your fearful shudder as he traces your skin with his teeth. he especially loves provoking you to act out and then punishing you for it. eventually, the pain will become a familiar constant, it may even grow into a guilty pleasure. broken down and reshaped into the perfect toy, he’ll never grow bored of you; you’re stuck as his beloved stress toy for all of eternity.

[un-till-the-end]

SA by the segyein vs Ivan's kiss

I hate to say it, but I think Till does associate Ivan's kiss with his assault by the segyein. And I'm almost certain Vivinos intends for us to too. There are several parallels and Till's reactions and behavior are very similar. I think part of the purpose behind including the karaoke scene is for it to contrast with Ivan's actions during Round 6.

In both scenes, Till is expected to sing but has given up.

Urak and Ivan both grab his face while he looks at them with uncertainty.

He's manhandled and overpowered. He's kept trapped.

They both grab him by the neck.

Ivan's hand is also threaded through Till's hair.

Till's expressions are similar in his eyes and the shape of his mouth.

He's biting into his lip the entire time which seems to be a habit he does when severely distressed.

In Karma, during the metaphorical representation of Ivan's kiss, Till's shirt collar is undone just like it is in the karaoke bar.

In spite these similarities, the differences are just as significant.

Till's eyes dilate when he sees Ivan.

Till fights against the segyein, but when Ivan kisses him, he flees.

Urak grabs him harshly but Ivan grabs him tenderly. Ivan pushes Till's lip back up when he bites down into it.

Urak grips Till from his nape to avoid damaging his vocal cords. When Ivan strangles him, he presses directly on them.

Till resists the segyein, but he surrenders to Ivan.

Still, there are distinctions we can't claim. We can't claim they're not both trying to control him. We can't claim they don't both cause him pain. We can't even say they don't both intend to hurt him. Ivan's motivations are certainly different, but both the segyein and Ivan resorted to violence and power to make Till do as they want.

Till is incredibly confused and scared. He's severely traumatized by both experiences. Yet while Till wants to hurt the segyein, he doesn't want to hurt Ivan. His expression towards Ivan also holds concern. His fear is for Ivan as much as it is for himself. He's willing to hand his life over to Ivan. If he has to die, he wants it to be by his friend's hands.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Warning: Toxic relationship, Dub-con, Slapping, Name calling.

Model!Toji who didn't care or wanted to know you. You were just another fashion designer assistant, too boring to notice. Wearing a black pencil skirt and a simple white blouse, with your hair up, and nerdy glasses. Again nothing special.

Model!Toji who stared ahead as the make-up artist dapped lip balm on his already soft lips regardless of the cut on his lip. His light emerald orbs snapped to the sudden yelling and you poor thing was being screamed at for something as stupid as getting the wrong color but his eyes widened. Your hair was down, and the normal blank blouse was a bold color that made your skin pop, and those teary eyes, sparkled. His cock stirred to live.

Model!Toji who rushed off after you ran away, tears sliding down your cute cheeks. Who followed you into the restroom. This was perfect! You were emotionally vulnerable and would be so easy, all he had to was ask "ya okay, doll?" as he inched closer. "I can make the pain go away. What do ya say?" he smirked as he kissed your neck before kissing would a fiery passion.

Model!Toji wanted you to only be a fling, yet when he saw you shyly tucked your hair before your ear, smiling all cutely at the ground as another model flirted with you. An almost blind rage took control and before he knew it he was storming toward you and pushing the guy away from you, hard on his shoulder as the nameless model opened his mouth to complain but stopped himself once he saw the pure murderous glint in Toji's eyes.

Model!Toji who grabbed your wrist and dragged you into an empty changing room, threw you against the vanity and gripped your jaw harshly. "Ya think you can act like a slut and pimp yourself out, doll? Well, you gotta another thing comin'." He snarled, his other hand ripping your shirt like it was paper. "W-wait, no i-." you gasped as your head snapped to the side and your cheek stung as he slapped you.

Model!Toji growled "Lies." he pulled your skirt down impatiently and laughed as he spotted your slick-coated underwear "You are a slut." he pushed your panties to the side before standing up and pulling his pants down. His thick, fat cock twitched up your glaze, a pearl of pre-cum dripped for his hardened dick, and the tip such a pretty rose pink.

You screamed as he lined up to your entrance, and slammed into you, strong enough that the vanity shook below you. Your thighs were held against his hard chest, his hips rolling and grind at each thrust.

"You're fuckin' mine now."

[konigsblog]

What about a Yandere!Kidnapper!Ghost or Yandere! Kidnapper!Soap?

tw/cw: DARK CONTENT, NONCON/RAPE, dead dove: do not eat, KIDNAPPING, MANIPULATION, PHYSICAL ABUSE, PUNISHMENTS. tell me if missed anything.

we all know that kidnapper soap is incredibly manipulative, guilt tripping and overall a horrible, toxic man to be around... but what about his punishments? how does he punish his dumb, cock slave for misbehaving or acting in a way that johnny doesn't approve of?

he enjoys to inflict pain and fear onto people, that's why he joined the military; to be able to murder people legally, those who've wronged him. of course, it's not just his enemies he likes to scare and hurt; he enjoys seeing you terrified. he enjoys it because it gives him a sense of superiority, feeding into his egotistical and sexual desires, watching how you'll plead with him, that you'll do anything if he's gentle with you.

he rarely is gentle, it's not in his nature. although he likes to joke around with you to get you comfortable, so he can watch your face contort with terror and agony as he continues out with his brutal assault. punishments depend on what you've done. for example; if you talk back to him, expect to have that pretty mouth raped, or have cigarette burns across your tongue as he sets his cigarette out onto your warm, scarred tongue.

if it's something more serious — like attempting to escape — he'll find other, more threatening ways to put you back into your place. forcing you to stand whilst he rapes your pretty body, his hot breath running down your spine, before you inevitably collapse to your knees and cry out from fear and pain. he won't stop there, he'll just continue humping your weak, limp, raw body until you're apologising and telling him that you love him, even if it isn't true.

he's a sadistic psychopath, he enjoys seeing others scream from pain when he's caused it — the reason for your pain. he may glide a knife along your thigh, holding your body down as he sticks the knife into your skin, carving out degrading words he calls you, or even marking you as his own. a permanent reminder of who you belong to.

he lives in a far away area, away from society, so he may drag you outside naked in the middle of fall or winter, a chain tugging on your neck as he drags you around. you'll be shaking, crawling and shivering, begging to go inside. he'll spank your cold, sore ass, even record your reactions to watch later before he allows you back inside, throwing a bucket of lukewarm water onto you and telling you to clean the water splashed on the dirty ground with your tongue, pushing your face into it if you don't obey. :(

[sundewhasaudhd]

Mega doodle dump (I was busy last week)

TW: physical abuse (hair pulling), religious trauma

A bunch of Aspen doodles (what can I say, I love my son)

Wilbur doodles

Redraw of the thumbnail of the Vampire music video (yknow, like the Miku song [I don’t know the producer])

“…Yes sir” (they got yelled at at church, again)

“WAYLON!!!”

Father son bonding

Doodle of @wigglyobsessedweirdo ‘s OC, Willow

Aspen and foxes views on their church throughout the years

Redraw of the thumbnail of the WILDCARD (by Kira) music video

Matryoshka frame redraw

My Nerdycule relationship headcanon chart (red mean romantic, blue means qpp, and green means just platonic)

Mikurin doodle

Gelphie doodle

Alright, I’ll be back with part two in a minute

IF YOU LIKE MY ART, PLEASE REBLOG :3

[itsabouttimex2]

Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-

How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —

Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -

Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-

There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.

Throwing Hands

Bullfam & Monkiefam

“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”

Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.

He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.

“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”

You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.

Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)

I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…

This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.

Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.

He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.

Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.

And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.

Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.

“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”

An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.

One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.

After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.

After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.

So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!

Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!

“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”

His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.

Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”

The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.

He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.

“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”

“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”

Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.

You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.

And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.

He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.

Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.

[magixfairyix]

Darcy Headcannons:

Because it’s been a while.

Also, some Driven (Darcy x Riven) because Riven decided that he wanted in on the headcannons.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

1. I feel like girl would have carpal tunnel or something like that. Icy is the one who stretches regularly, meanwhile Darcy’s back and hands are actively trying to kill her. Also her neck because tall people issues.

2. I feel like two books she’d like is The Witch of Colchis (Medea retelling), and Ariadne. Witchy Greek mythology people who ended up with horrible lives who found love in the end (eventually). Darcy cried while reading The Witch of Colchis though, especially when Medea showed her children her magic before her husband cheated on her; also when Medea killed her children. Riven found Darcy crying on the couch, book in hand, and then she proceeded to tell him about how much of a dick Jason was.

3. She loves plushies. She may be evil, but girl's inner child is fucked up from all the years she struggled with psychic magic, and then when Liliss fucked up her life. Giant moth/bug plushies specifically.

4. Darcy does have melatonin to help her sleep. She just doesn't take it. Firstly, because her overthinking makes her think that she will become addicted to it if she takes it/that it will make things worse. Secondly, because Liliss DOES NOT want Darcy to take it. Darcy tends to listen to Liliss because of the threats she's given.

5. Darcy needs reassurance from others because she will not believe her own horrible opinion on herself. She needs to know that she is not failing in life, a horrible person, etc. Riven knows that when she is in a mental health slump, that words are important to her.

6. She is a perfectionist and will crash out if she does not get perfect grades. Icy has a healthier academic mindset, where if she fails, she will use it as an opportunity to try harder and improve. Darcy when she gets a "failing grade" for her (below 80%) she will spend the afternoon questioning her life.

7. She will watch/read media with hurt/comfort because girlie is hurt, and needs a lot of comfort in her life. Darcy and Riven tried watching My Happy Marriage once, and believe it or not, Darcy relates to the protagonist because of: horrible self-confidence because of a family figure. Cough cough, Liliss.

8. Darcy runs from her mental health problems. Logically, she knows that nothing will change if she doesn't fix them. But especially during season one when Liliss is very THERE in her life, she finds such work hopeless.

9. Darcy's running from her mental health problems involve: her refusing to take melatonin/sometimes even refusing to take herbal teas to help with sleep, trying to get a sense of control over her life again by going to a bar or smth to flirt with a random guy/mess with his head a bit/possible one night stand, and refusing to talk about Liliss even with her sisters. Other things she may open up to Stormy and Icy on occasion, but Liliss? HA. No.

10. Darcy was actually scared as fuck during Magical Adventure when she had to come face to face with Liliss. This was when Icy (Stormy kinda knew) realized the extent Liliss must have fucked with Darcy, when Icy sees Darcy flinching and how on edge she is/her voice trembling/so close to crying if Liliss yells.

11. Darcy doesn't like touch due to the usual trust issues, but also because of Liliss. Either when summoning the Ancestor to give updates, or in nightmares, Liliss usually would scratch at Darcy's cheek/just rest a ghostly hand against it threateningly. And if Darcy moved... yeah Liliss would indeed strike her. What hurts Darcy the most is that, since a lot happens in nightmares, she doesn't have any scars/actual bruises from it. She feels as if, as a psychic witch, she should be able to handle it since it's "not real." Darcy hadn't even told Icy or Stormy about this. Only Riven knows about it.

12. Darcy, at the very beginning of her relationship with Riven, had trouble communicating things (like how she truly wants affection deep down). One night, the two were sleeping next to each other, with a little bit of distance. Darcy woke up in the middle of the night, half asleep, and little-spooned herself into Riven. Riven woke up before her and was like: Aw but also I don't want to move wtf do I do? Darcy woke up in Riven's arms and was like: Wtf did my sleepy-self do?

13. LITTLE FUCKING SPOON.

14. She will comfort Riven when he has nightmares. Darcy will look after the mental state of those she loves, but will not show herself the same sentiment.

15. I have a feeling that she just doesn't like mammals as pets. Dogs? They drool and if that stuff gets on her hands or clothes, she will rage. Also hair. Cats? Hair and hairballs. Ferrets? They stink. Bunnies? They have the devil in their eyes. But arachnids, bugs, insects, isopods, scorpions, and things like that? YES. I don't know how she'd feel about frogs and snakes though...

[lulurhythm]

This incredible piece was done by Nebi for the story “Why So Serious?” by Lulu_Rythmea & @huntressundone on AO3.

Guys. The DETAIL. I’m freaking out over here.