#tw; past rape/non-con | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gauloiseblue · 1 year ago

Text

[TW: rape, non-con, dark]

There's something about stray dog's behavior that speaks König to me.

He'd been kicked around, ridiculed, and left on the cold pavement alone. He had no real house, and had to beg even for a scrap of food. Those were the factors that forced him to grow teeth way earlier—and sharper—than he's supposed to.

He'd held the bitterness in his heart, causing him to despise the weak, the poor who couldn't stand up for themselves. The perfect replica of his past self.

He hated seeing them, he'd even go as far as 'taking care' of them. Letting them know that no one would help them, no one would come to the rescue. Just like what people did to him back then.

He recognizes his contribution to the vicious circle, yet he finds himself helpless as he's unable to break free from it.

Perhaps that's when God decided to punish him for it.

There's a mission that required him to work together with the other team, and met with the reprisal for his bad deed, in the form of a medic.

He didn't spare a glance at her, didn't acknowledge her existence, until she defended her patients in front of him.

One of the missions went wrong, causing the soldiers to be injured by gunshots and a grenade. It was theirs to blame, because they didn't pay attention enough, but she shouted at him, telling him if he'd given them a deserved break, it would've been avoided.

He, of course, was angry at her.

He told her she didn't know anything, that she's hindering the mission. But she didn't flinch, even when he growled at her.

It frustrated him, because even his glare would send his soldiers running. Yet it didn't work on her. The people who's not afraid of him are usually those in power, but she isn't one of them. She's just a mere medic.

He tried to kick her out of the team, but the higher ups told him that there's no one available for her replacement. He also tried to make her quit, but what he did came back around to him, as he received a penalty.

It stresses him out, to the point that he'd overwork himself to distract him from his thoughts.

One day, a bullet passes through his heart and lungs, causing him to collapse on the spot.

In daze, when his consciousness slips in and out, he thinks how he could've easily avoided it. But his body wasn't listening to him, delaying his feet to move back.

In what feels like months, he opens his eyes for the first time after the incident.

What he sees, is a pale light on the ceiling, and a blurry figure by the bed.

And there she stands, just like the angel of mercy.

She doesn't say much, except for telling him to rest, and that he's lucky he survived.

She tells him the same thing for days, before he can muster two words out of his mouth.

Shut up.

And strangely, she smiles.

"Seems like you've recovered well." She responded, "Welcome back."

She continues to nurse him, despite his snarky remarks that she easily deflects. She takes care of him with patience that should've withered away from the moment she joined the army.

It shouldn't have bloomed in front of him.

For the first time in his life, he feels the weight of his guilt on his chest. He could've been kinder, could've been softer, and he would've broken the cycle just like she did. But he chose to nurture his anger—just like his father, and his father's father.

Then again, she could've gotten it easy from the start. Though in his heart, he knew it's just an excuse for his behavior.

The day he's permitted to work again, he left without saying thank you.

At night, he wonders if she'd come to hate him as well. No one would blame her if she does, but deep in his heart, he hopes she doesn't.

Since that day, he has followed her like a lost dog. But he would turn his head away whenever she looked at him.

Sometimes he scoffs at himself for thinking about injuring himself, just so he could receive her care. Yet he couldn't help but panting at her feet, lapping up every little conversation they made. He wants to surrender himself to her, letting her put a collar around him and call him hers.

And it's all because she showed just a little kindness to him.

On lonely missions, or lonely nights, he often imagines what they could be. Living in the suburbs, white fences, and kids. The picture perfect of the marriage.

Until it all shatters on the ground.

It's not his intention to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but lean in when he hears her voice. She sounds happier, as she shows her friend the ring on her finger.

So he bares his teeth,

And bites.

(One time, his uncle had to put down their dog

Because he bit his children for no reason—

Other than jealousy

He heard the dog whined

on the cold table,

alone, and scared

As the vet slowly pushed the poison

Into his bloodstream

And God, how cruel is it

To put a heart inside of a beast

When all his life

He only knew

How to bite?)

He pants as he presses himself into her, causing her to whimper, as her voice is long gone from screaming and crying.

She must've had no idea of what's coming to her when he called her to his office. The scratches and bruises on his body were enough proof of her gullibility, that she came to him, unassumingly, and trusting.

He had her bent over his desk, smothering her easily with his body as he forced himself into her. She was a fighter, but not strong enough to defeat him.

He had lost his inhibitions, as his back arched for the eighth time, spilling his seeds into her.

And she's lost as well, as her eyes were unfocused, and all her energy had been zapped from her body.

"Leave him." He said, as he drove himself into her once again.

She lets out a high-pitched moan when his cock stretches her open again, filling the room with sticky sounds.

"Leave him and love me instead." He said for the second time, and she cried in pain when he buried himself too deep.

"Love me," He sobbed as he pulled the ring out of her finger, knowing fully well he couldn't replace it without twisting her arm. "Please love me."

Her tears flood her cheeks as she watches him discard the ring from her, before latching his mouth onto her shoulder. Marking her with another bite, drawing yet another blood with his teeth.

He knew she had closed her heart the moment he slammed her on the table. He knew she wouldn't come to love him. But if he's not loved by her, then no one should.

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #i don't know why i wrote this #tw noncon #konig x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #stray dog behavior as a metaphor of monstrous love #könig x reader #könig cod #i feel like konig is so angst coded that I can't think of happy fics whenever I think of him #or yandere coded #whatever #you get the point

964 notes · View notes

call-me-medusa · 2 months ago

Text

rangerdanger's 9-1-1 fic masterlist (one year of writing for 9-1-1!!!!)

Enter Buck | G | 3.5k | link

Five times Eddie let his crew peek behind the curtain of his life and one time he had to slam the door open for them. Or, Hen & Chim don't know that Eddie's wife and his best friend Buck are the same person.

Guilty As Sin? | T | 7k | link

Eddie figures out his own sexuality and tries to work though his feelings about that, along with help from his best friend.

Press Conference | G | 2.6k | link

The fallout from the Friends to Fiancés trope.

Attitude of Gratitude | M | 10.5k | link

Five times Buck and TK helped each other through their addiction over the phone, and one time they celebrated.

TW: Addiction, Past Drug Use

Left Your Mark On Me, A (Strawberry) Tattoo | G | 2k | link

Eddie gifts Buck something a little sentimental for their engagement.

as you wish | G | 4.3k | link

The five times Eddie told Buck 'As you wish' and the one time Buck understood him.

we aren't then we are | G | 3.7k | link

Eddie and Buck know about their feelings for each other, but they aren't in any rush to get into a relationship. No one gets it but them.

til you're building a weapon | M | 5.5k | link

Eddie sees Buck's self-harm scars and they talk about it.

TW: Depression, Self-Injury, Implied/Referenced Suicide

The Word Wheel | T | 11.7 | link

Eddie learns how to use his words.

penance. | T | 16.5k | link

Eddie figures he can pay penance for being gay and the fallout that's happened because of it. Over a 24-hour shift, Bobby and Buck try to show him he's allowed to want the things he wants, and the universe doesn't care what he thinks he deserves.

the dreams you left neglected | T | 5.4k | link

Eddie gets a chance to talk to his younger self after Christopher left.

the second that never ends | T | 5.3k | link

Buck and Eddie share something during Chimney's bachelor party. They talk about it and have to make some hard choices about their relationships.

bed chem | E | 6.6k | link

The three times Buck and Eddie talked about sex before they (+1) had sex for the first time.

yeah! | E | 6.6k | link

Eddie and Buck didn't meet at the fire station. They met in WeHo, a few months after Eddie moved to LA.

i need to want something more | T | 9.8k | link

Christopher is gone, Eddie's in therapy, and Gerrard's in charge. It's a whirlwind, but at the end someone comes out, someone gets hurt, and things end up better than they was before.

(i needed saving) and a good mistake needed making | T | 6.3k | link

Buck and Eddie fall together at the most inopportune time. It doesn't help Eddie feel any better about himself.

ain't no saints here, baby | T | 5.6k | link

Buck and Eddie fall together at the most inopportune time. Eddie's just glad to have Buck- it's the only time he feels right.

your many sorceries | T | 9.8k | link

Buck gets struck by lightning. Eddie wants Buck to wake up from a coma so he can say the things he never said. Maddie thinks Eddie can do more to help Buck than he realizes.

eddie diaz and the amazing, awesome, very good day | M | 5.4k | link

Buck's doing nice things for Eddie and he doesn't understand why.

But it's not real | G | 2.2k | link

Buck drops Eddie off after their first date, and it might just make Eddie's heart explode.

when | M | 4.7k | link

Buck has depression, and Eddie knows. Him knowing doesn't help Buck ask for help at all.

TW: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Injury, Implied/Referenced Suicide

Was I even on your way? | M | 3k | link

Or, Buck gets reminded of something that happened he'd rather forget.

TW: Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery

you'll find you again | E | 4.6k | link

Or, Eddie's learning how to want joy for himself

Drunk words, sober thoughts | T | 5.6k | link

Or, Eddie says some things he never thought he'd say. Hen wants to solve his problems, and Buck just wants a clue on what's going on.

eddie diaz's gay awakening(s) | G | 3.3k | link

Or, Buck wasn’t Eddie’s gay awakening. He actually had about five gay awakenings, now that he thinks about it.

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fic #my 9-1-1 fic #rangerdanger ao3 #my 911 posts #911 fox #ao3 #buddie ao3 #my ao3

64 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 5 months ago

Text

Fic Finder

Jan 17th

~*~

1. Hello! For the Fic Finder, this is a bit of a spoiler for the ending of a fic. Reincarnation AU request, I just finished reading "All Old Things are New Again" which involves if you meet someone you knew or had a strong connection in a prior life you'll start ugly crying and sobbing without knowing why. I remember reading a fic that ended that way, the premise that the reincarnation cycle began again. It is not "Life Cycle of the Frog and the Fish" though. Thank you!

~*~

2. Hello! I'm looking for a fic, I already finish reading it last year and I really really really wanna read it again. It's a wangxian (of course) that wwx was sacrificial summon by a woman/girl that somehow lives in a brothel then wwx burning the brothel down to the ground and running for his life with a little brother and sister with him, pass forward in the last parts the little brother telling wwx that he knows that wwx is "not his sister" and still thanking him. Advance thank you!

FOUND? incantations and blood by orphan_account (T, 38k, WangXian, LingYi, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Rituals, Self-Sacrifice, wwx gets a body early, non-con tag is for og characters back story, Reincarnation, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, Doctor WWX, OP WWX, Genius WWX, No Smut, Child Abuse, PTSD, NHS & WWX Friendship, Scheming NHS, Scheming WWX, Medical Inaccuracies, Canon Divergence, fast burn, Smart WWX, Mr Queen inspired, TW: rape/non con, Exchanging Letters)

~*~

3. Trying to find this fic where LWJ drinks tea like it's shots/alcohol? That's all I can remember. WWX knows when LWJ is annoyed/overwhelmed because he just starts drinking cup after cup of tea lol

FOUND? Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 336k, wangxian, XuanLi, SongXiao, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death)

~*~

4. Hi again, I've got a fic finder this time!

I just got reminded of this while reading Even If It Breaks Time, but there's another fic I remember reading where someone (probably WWX if I'm remembering correctly) also throws a cup at JGS, knocking him tf out. I want to find it and laugh at JGS again.

Thank you Mods and community for the good work and have a wonderful day <3 @nyankokoko

FOUND! Wei Wuxian, Who's That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels) is "Wei Wuxian, Who's That?" by bumbledees, I think, part of the series "The Amazing Adventures of Jiang Xiaolian and Family"

~*~

5. I am trying to find a series that was AO3. All the main characters are there, and they are immortals. The one I remember the most, I think the first one in the series, has WWX and LWJ visiting someplace that is very Disney like. Apparently, they are not happy with a movie that is being made that features the five nations, in other words, the five great sects from the story, telling the story of Hanguang Jun and the Yiling Patriarch. However, in the Disney like version, one of them is made into a princess. It’s actually quite hilarious. And then there are multiple stories afterwards dealing with all the main characters living their lives and the current world. I would love it if somebody could direct me to that. @linkzgal

FOUND? part 2 of the series ridiculous future bullshit by sami (M, 150k, WangXian, WQ/JC/LXC, WWX & LSZ, LSZ/Other, JYL/OMC, Future Fic, in theory it follows on from an au specifically, The Same Moon Shines Series, the rewriting of history, if the past was different the future is different, But still ridiculous, Humour, the evolution of fashion, immortals through history, LWJ visits other cultures and judges them, Modern AU, a centuries-long game of telephone, best boy LSZ, Pride Parades, Cats, the legend of WQ, Academia, Border Crossings, biosecurity, Paperwork, Family, Parents and Children, Uncles and nephews, the mortifying ordeal of your family seeing how you really live, Social Media, Chaos Gremlin WWX, University, outsider pov, Movie Stars, Fluff, Weddings, Adventures)

~*~

6. Hio, nvr done this before and not sure doing it right. I've been trying to find a fic for my friend but all I can remember for certain is Lan wangji also dies, and somehow comes back when Wei wuxian does, but he is the donkey Little Apple. Is filled with wei wuxain being oblivious and not realizing the donkey isn't just a donkey. It might have a brief part in the beginning that both of them are in another realm somehow connected with baoshe sanren(I forgot how to spell her name but his mom's teacher/grandmaster) to heal. @ly-puzzle

FOUND? Absolutely Ridiculous by gaotamao (G, 58k, WangXian, Soul Abyss, Burial Mounds, Mo Manor, Dafan Mountain, Crack Treated Seriously, Carp Tower | Koi Tower, Lotus Pier, Cloud Recesses, LWJ is a donkey, LQR tries really hard to stay calm, WWX's secrets confuses everybody, there are not enough rules to help the Lans deal with WWX) Lan Zhan didn't die. He succeeded to meet Wei Ying in a nightmarish realm. When Wei Ying got resurrected, Lan Zhan was pulled with him but into Little Apple's body. Wei Ying eventually figures out Lan Zhan posseses the donkey and his solution involves Jiang Cheng. It was so hilarious that I immediately recalled this fic.

~*~

7. Looking for a modern au fic in which jc notices wwx is eating differently then gets worried and tells the family then thay all get really worried then it turns out it was a big misunderstanding and wwx changed the way he eats for his secret boyfriend lwj because of a reason I cannot remember and they clear the misunderstanding and there's a happy ending

Please, I've been looking for it for about three days I'm desperate

Thank you in advance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~*~

8. Hey friends! So I've been getting back into MDZS and have been losing my mind trying to find this fic. I only remember little flashes but not specific words or scenes or anything and it's not helping when I try to search. I know it was complete but kind of left off on a cliffhanger? When it was published the author said maybe someday they'll write more but not now. It started with WWX waking up in the Mo shed and was focused on WWX, JC, and JL with lots of family moments and bonding and stuff. There was queer gender themes for WWX and a granny OC. WWX was going to be disguised as that granny's relative and was implied trans or nonbinary. Also WWX was sick (something about his resurrection or cultivation?) and that's why they needed to meet Lan Xichen which is why they needed the disguise identity. Thanks for all you do and for trying with this!

NOT FOUND! By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

FOUND! crushed ceramic by doyeorem (pomellogranate) (T, 10k, JC & JL & WWX, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, Family Feels, Genderqueer WWX, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, i think, Misunderstandings, re: lxc, Disguise, Crossdressing, Whump, but it’s more mentioned/implied then detailed, Sibling Bonding, uncle bonding) It's inspired by BAON so there's similarities in the Jiang family feels and the gender stuff, but crushed ceramic specifically has a relevant grandma oc who pretends Wei Wuxian is her niece I think? Whereas BAON is more like a canon divergent what-if so it's basically entirely canon characters and Wei Wuxian's fake identity is as Jiang Cheng's friend who is mistaken to be a fiance.

~*~

9. Hi, thank you for finding the fic. I didn't think I'd be sending another ask so soon but , here we are. I'm searching for 2 fics:

A) One where WWX is summoned by someone from a minor sect whose family died in the battle WWX died. His wish is for WWX to suffer or be miserable. He goes to LWJ who is recovering from 33 lashes.

B) The other one, LSZ doesn't like MXY! WWX getting close to LWJ, cuz he spent 13 years being loyal to and mourning for WWX and all of a sudden he's moving on. I think nk it might be abo but I'm not sure. @shylurker111

9A)

FOUND? A Storm of Laughter in the Stillness of the Jingshi by OnlyMeAndMyBones, 2nd in series (T, 74k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Recovery, Pain, Mental Illness, Depression, PTSD, Rehabilitation, slow burn but significantly less so than canon, miscommunication is still a thing tho, Empathy, Guilt, Forgiveness, it's not THAT dark actually, there's a lot of humor in this as well, wwx IS a gremlin after all, oooh and how does lwj need this gremlin in his life, a-yuan is the best kid ever, lxc doesn't like wwx but what's he gonna do, slightly OOC, or rather canon divergent character development, oh oops it turned out THAT dark after all, but only temporarily I SWEAR, Suicidal Thoughts, no actual suicide attempts and no graphic thoughts or plans tho)

9B)

NOT FOUND! things we're all too young to know by someitems (T, 11k, wangxian, misunderstandings, junior shenanigans, mistaken identity, found family) might be "things we're all too young to know" by someitems although LSZ doesn't exactly dislike the resurrected WWX, he's just not sure it's going to work out

FOUND! With a smile on your face, heartache. by Marzennya (T, 10k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, LWJ/MXY, A/B/O Dynamics, traditional A/B/O dynamics for plot relevant reasons, Period-Typical Sexism, Period Typical Attitudes, heavily implied omegaphobia, LSZ is a MXY hater on this one, Weird Biology, POV Outsider on WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Alpha LSZ, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Crack Treated Seriously, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comedy of Errors)

~*~

10. guys i need yalls help in finding this AO3 fanfic i read. the plot is that lan zhan and wuxian are living together because i think the apartment is close to his school/job (forgot which but they are akready adults and working too i think maybe) and the first day of them moving in tg, wuxian remarks how thankful he is because lan zhan has already started unpacking the same day and he thinks how meticulous he is. anways so, i think that they went down to the apartment lobby to try and meet their new neighboords. one of which happens to be su she, and the neighboords are asking them question to get to know them and ask about their relationship. and su she was acting creepy towards wuxian, so lan zhan says they are dating to protect them. and i think that su she said to prove that they are in a relationship and to kiss, so lan kisses wuxian. and afterwards, whenever they saw su she, they made a point to make out. except for when they didnt ofc, and started making out even when he wasnt there. meanwhile they still lived their domestic life together, buying groccies and kissing as soon as they reach the apartment, and once they get inside, lan zhan immidently leans wuxian agaisnt the door and keeps making out with him, the groccieris being long forgotten on the floor. and they even have bj in the couch. and once, they decide to have a "date" and go out to a fancy resturant, and wuxian wishes it was real. anyhow, they decide to throw a house warming party from suggestion of both of their brothers. once the party actually starts, wuxian is frustrated from all the making out because he wanted to be lan zhan and he was conflicted on what to do. and both of their brothers obvi notice something is up between them, until it all blows up in the party when they confess their feelings towards each other by yellling or sum. and immidetly everyone leaves and its just them two alone to be delt w their inevitable feelings towars each other @eighty122

FOUND? we don't need to talk about it by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 48k, WangXian, Modern, Fake Dating, the slimmest of premises, there was only one bedroom, There Was Only One Bed, kissing to prove you're dating, being idiots to prove you're dating, they're idiots your honor, Pining while fucking)

~*~

11. Hi! I can't find a specific fanfic: Lan Zhan has his dead mother's cell phone number, he always texts her even if there's no answer, it comforts him. However, one day a stranger texts him, he says he can keep texting if it makes him feel good, some time later they introduce themselves and the stranger turns out to be Wei Ying, who he later falls in love with.

It's a short and self-contained ending (I think it's a one shot). The author took a Twitter thread from his own account to clean it up. I look forward to what you can find, THANKS!!! @ppninonom

FOUND?🔒I'm falling for your eyes but they don't know me yet by gusulanzhan (T, 3k, WangXian, Gay WWX, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, not internalised though, Not Beta Read, originally a threadfic, Gay LWJ, Identity Porn, I think?, And then they were roommates, Misunderstandings, Bridezilla lxc, Parents Are Dead, Modern AU)

~*~

12. Hello i hope everyone is doing well!!

I have a fic that I can’t find if you don’t mind. I can only remember one scene:

Everyone was gathered for a sect conference at the Cloud Recesses. I think Wei WuXian had planed it all out and after everyone had arrived, he started to get tired. LQR, still unaware that Wei WuXian does not have a core, is wondering why everyone is so concerned when he starts to fall asleep where he is sitting. Then LQR offers to escort Wei WuXian back to their Jingshi. At first, Lan WangJi was hesitant to trust his uncle but he eventually let him. I think after that they tell LQR why Wei WuXian won’t go back to the sword path. @jikcf

~*~

13. Hi!! Can u please help me find this fic where lan zhan sealed his spiritual power after lxc told lz that wwx died at the siege?then lz died after that and i think it was a time travel fic. Thank youuu @heyseokjinie

FOUND? Get it right (mdzs time travel) Series by AmiraAlzilu (M, 85k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Canonical Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Fluff, Not JC Friendly, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator WWX, Getting Together, Time Travel Fix-It, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Jiāng Family Bashing, Character Death Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grieving LXC, Grieving LQR, LQR Is So Done, Dead LWJ, Dead WWX)

~*~

14. looking for a NSFW fic where wwx becomes linked to a sex toy. i remember that he overheard some men planning to use the object on a girl (whoever's blood?? i think gets on it becomes linked to the toy). so obviously he jumped in to confiscate the item. at some point lwj confiscates it and unknowingly uses the toy without knowing it's linked to wwx

FOUND? 🔒 The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones (E, 77k, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Aged-Up Character(s), WWX POV, WWX is a gremlin, Internally Screaming LWJ, No Sunshot Campaign, First Times, Accidental Sex, Masturbation, PWP, Porn with Feelings, WWX experimenting with things he shouldn’t like always, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot) Ok, I went on a little search for 14 and it may be this? Found this Suggestion on a similar reddit post 4 years ago

~*~

15. Hiiii!! I've come to you begging on my knees, I've been looking for this fic for sooooo long and I can't find it anywhere, I don't have the full context because I read it a long time ago, but I do have the most important aspects and details.

I hope you can help me, I love your work!!!!! and thx!!!

Its a mordernAU. Wei Wuxian is an international student from China. He is a music student and flutist for his choir where Lan Wangji is a main pianist. They also share a course.

It literally starts when WWX wakes after a night of party to find there's a baby (4-5 ish) in his apartment. He also spots a bag with all basic baby essentials left in his apartment and a note explaining he (the dad) is leaving the kid (A-Yuan) here for sometime. The baby was very calm indicating it was a common occurence. He phones around and sometime later learns from his sister that the kid's dad is a good for nothing person. In the meantime he decides, he is going to look after the kid.

It's a bit of a slice of life kind fanfic. Where WWX buy toys and things needed for a kid. For the first day, he even takes him to college class and the whole class is enamoured by the kid. Somehow, LWJ also ends up taking care of the kid, and when WWX wants to adopt A-yuan, The only solution (according to the logic that LWJ gave him) is that they should get married, since WWX has a student visa. In a super friendly way of course, just Bros being Bros and all that while they become parents of a little A-yuan

FOUND? The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer) but I think Lan Zhan plays violin rather than piano.

FOUND?🔒so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it’s about the yearning, slowburn, [Podfic of] so take my hand (take my whole life too) by exmanhater)

~*~

16. Hello, I'm searching for a Modern AU fanfic. In this story, the clan families are interconnected. Wei Wuxian unexpectedly becomes pregnant with Lan Zhan's child, but their wedding is disrupted due to a conflict(argument). afterwards, Wei Wuxian is forced to marry Lan Xichen, who abuse him. All these events leads to Wei Wuxian's being depressed,alone and withdrawal throughout the story. Ultimately he dies. Later, a character who strongly resembles Wei Wuxian is introduced into

~*~

17. I'm struggling to find a time travel fic. I've scanned through all my tags and the 3 rec lists here and don't see it. Wwx definitely goes back and doesn't tell anyone (idk if he travels post siege or later; I think lwj has travelled too but wwx doesn't know). lqr or lxc give him a flute after he expressed a desire to learn musical cultivation and pretends he can't play well. But him getting a flute happens in so many fics, help!!! (Also he plays wangxian but doesn't know what it is?) Thanks!

~*~

18. Thank you for this public service! I'm looking for a fic where all I remember is that Wei Wuxian makes Fairy float to 'point out' the bad guys. And Jin Ling is very indignant at the suggestion that she is not a magical dog. I think WWX is hiding so people don't know it's him making the dog float? Sorry I don't have more details! @forceofconviction

FOUND! You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, Dogs, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels)

~*~

19. Bless you all and your hard work ahead of time: If you are amenable, I am looking for a fic that I read once months ago and foolishly did not bookmark that had the following characteristics:

Yu Ziyuan survived past the Lotus Pier massacre (I cannot recall if Jiang Fengmian did either)

Wei Wuxian returned to Lotus Pier after the Sun Shot Campaign, still having cultivated the ghost path

There is a notable scene about chapter 6-10 (if I remember right) where Wei Wuxian is punished with Zidian by Madame Yu in Lotus Pier after the Sun Shot Campaign, which either Jiang Cheng or Lan Wangji as a witness, and in which Wei Wuxian nearly dies because of his lack of golden core. This scene also had relatively non-graphic art (I think) embedded near the end of the chapter in the text, but was possibly in the footnotes. I for sure remember there being art in that chapter though of Wei Wuxian.

I don't quite remember any specific tags attached, nor do I remember if there was any time travel involved, but obviously it's some kind of canon divergence I just can't for the life of me remember what. I think there was also another pic or two in other chapters, and I believe it was unfinished at the time (and thus probably still unfinished), but it might not be! I hope this isn't too broad. I've been scouring the "Hurt Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian" and "Torture" and "Abuse" tags, making sure that Yu Ziyuan is included in the search, but I've obviously had no luck.

Thank you again for all your help and hard work, and if you can't find it, that's fair, I wasn't that detailed in ways that would actually help to find it using AO3 tags. :) @mamahersh

My deepest apologies, but I wanted to let you know I found the fic I was looking for in my previous ask! (not syncing my bookmarks is a double edged sword). On the off chance you do decide to publicize my previous ask, Other people can find the fic at "Here With Me" by "iamwish" on AO3. :) Thank you again for all you do, and have a great rest of your week!

FOUND! Here With Me ‘verse Series by iamwish (T/G, 80k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, wwx turns this into a no war!au, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator, Character Death, Blood and Gore, BAMF WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, there’s some elements of, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, POV JYL, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death)

~*~

20. Hello, I am looking for a Wangxian fic that has the Lan and Jiang sect working together for a night hunt. The city doesnt like cultivators. Wei Ying gets hurt with maybe falling down the stairs, I am not sure. I know the inn keeper of where they are staying is the yao they were hunting. Before that no one seems to believe him about how he got hurt except Lan Zhan. It was on A03.

Hello, I was #20 on the Jan 17th fic finder. I come with more info. The fic is mainly focused around Wei Wuxian . They received a letter of help from a small village being attacked by a Yao. This Yao in particular is wearing human skin and taken an interest in Wei Wuxian. The Yao starts tormenting Wei Wuxian though no one ever seems to catch the moments happening, so everyone thinks that Wei Wuxian is losing it. He throws the yao down tower and LWJ comes and helps him.

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

97 notes · View notes

floralcavern · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/critics-of-the-helluvaverse/post/782804402529583104/tw-for-assault-i-think?source=share

I just found all this out, and I am beyond furious. Everything makes disgusting sense now. The way Vivziepop refuses to acknowledge the abuse dynamic in Stolitz, the way she rushes to defend Valentino a literal rapist and how she brushed off a fan who related to Blitzø’s trauma? That’s not ignorance. That’s not bad writing. That’s someone who’s into this kind of shit. Stop sugarcoating it

She was drawing sexualized art of her underaged OC Addison back in her Zoophobia days, who was paired with an adult. Let that sink in. And the absolute worst—she deliberately brought someone with a known rape fetish to storyboard for a sexual assault survivor like Angel Dust. The playlists are non-con. This isn’t “dark storytelling.” It’s fetish fuel and it’s bleeding into the show, and people are still defending her? This should absolutely be part of the conversation when talking about Stolitz and "ValAngel"

Why the fuck isn’t this talked about more? Why is this not common knowledge? Survivors have spoken out saying Angel Dust’s portrayal makes them uncomfortable—and what does Viv do? Nothing. No accountability. No listening. Just more bullshit dressed up as “representation”

I’m sick of seeing her get away with this under the guise of “queer art” or “edgy humor.” Vivziepop has a massive platform, and she’s using it to normalize abuse dynamics and sexual violence through stylized animation—and her fans are still defending her like she’s some misunderstood creator

This should be everywhere. These screenshots, these receipts, this truth—it all needs to be shoved into the spotlight. She loves arguing with fans online? Great. Throw this in her face. Expose it. Stop letting her hide behind a fandom that worships the "aesthetic" and ignores the rot underneath

I am done. Done watching survivors be dismissed. Done watching people call this “deep” or “meaningful” when it’s just thinly veiled fetish content. Vivziepop is not a victim of “cancel culture.” She is a woman who’s shown us who she really is and it’s past time we believe her and act accordingly

link:

I’m guessing you checked the videos in those photos? For context for those not know what they meant by ‘dark storytelling’, I asked for context for those videos. If they were noncon videos, or dark short films. I’m guessing anon actually looked into it. And.. ya. It definitely explains a lot. People have been speculating that she has a rape fetish for a LONG time now. The way she actively follows people who make ValAngel art, the way she defends Raph to the grave. If you want more context as to how Viv clearly doesn’t give a shit about SA, look at these posts

If I had the equipment, I would make a full length YouTube video going into this. This is disgusting. Share this around.

53 notes · View notes

allthesmutl0vers · 9 months ago

Text

The Weight of Blood: Tom/Theo/Draco/Regulus/Fem!Reader (A/N--TW--Prologue)

NSFW,MDNI,18+,Triggering Content Masterlist Pairing: Tom Riddle/Theo Nott/Draco Malfoy/Regulus Black/Fem!Reader Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated. Summary: When students return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their final year, their biggest obstacle is passing their final exams. At least, that’s how it should be. But life has never been that easy for y/n. Between juggling the rocky, and some would say, an abusive relationship she has with one quidditch star, Cormac McLaggen, and cramming for her exams, she never finds the time to enjoy the things she loves. Ice skating, reading by the fire, riding a broom, or taking a walk through the forbidden forest to look for animals to capture with her camera. Little does she know, a storm is brewing. A storm that could rip away everything she holds dear, upending her life, even threatening to end it once and for all. A storm that is caused by the perceived weight her blood holds against those who hold the title weight, pure-blood. Being driven straight into the walls of the castle by four very handsome, very dangerous Slytherin boys. But will her being caught in the eyes of these boys be enough to change the direction of the wind? Or will they leave her to fight for herself in the eye of the storm? Only time will tell. If there is enough of it, at least. “I wouldn’t call it love. I’d call it an obsession.” - Tom Riddle IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a DARK ROMANCE, please take a look at the trigger warnings, and make sure you are comfortable reading this story before you start it. This story may not be for everyone. This is a multi-part story. I will be updating it as well as 'Managing Mischief' (Weasley Twins/Fem!Reader) throughout the week. You can click below to read more. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Author’s Note

This story is a fan-fiction. I do not own any of the characters, places, or situations within this story besides those that I create.

Please do not print, bind, or sell this work, as it would be an illegal act. Keep our writers and stories safe, legal, and free for all to enjoy.

This is a dark romance. Some situations/actions may be triggering/unsuitable for some.

With all of that being said, please read the Content and trigger Warnings.

Your Mental Health Matters.

Domestic Violence Hotline: (Call) 800-799-723 (Text-BEGIN) to 88788

Suicide Prevention Hotline: (Text/Call) 988

Self-Harm Hotline: (Call) 1-800-366-8288 (Text-CONNECT) to741741

Sexual-Assult Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

You are not alone.

It is not your fault.

The world is better with you in it.

My DMs are open if you need someone to talk to. Or simply someone to listen.

Content and Trigger Warnings

Abusive Relationship: Slapping, Non-Con Touching (mentioned only), Rape (mentioned only), Degradation (and not the kind we like), Humiliation, One On-Page Punch (past ones implied), Victim Blaming, Revenge Porn.

Violence: Fist Fights, Magical Cursing, Blood, Attempted Drowning, Knife To Throat Threats

Character Death

Depression

Attempted Suicide

Self-Harm

HEAVY Smut: One-On-One, Three, Four, and Fivesome scenes.

Heavy BDSM: Bondage, Magical Restraints, Spanking, Choking, Dom/Sub Relationships, Ownership Kink, Shared Ownership Kink, Sir Kink, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Semi-Public Sex, Primal Play, Knife Play, Blood Play, Marking/Branding Kinks, Orgasm Denial/Control, Edging, Overstimulation, Double Penetration, Anal Sex, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Breeding Kink.

Found Family

Betrayal

Discrimination: Based on blood-status.

Bullying

This story is Multi-POV, but primarily told from the Reader’s point of view.

Dedication

For all of us who have dreamed of being rescued, only to realize we had the power all along.

Prologue

Tom

Blood status amongst wizards and witches is the most powerful, most prominent, and most valuable thing we possess. Without it, how would we know who is worthy of our time? Or, more importantly, our loyalty.

Or so I’ve always been taught.

Even in the summer, the manor is dark, casting shadows along the cold corridors as we all gather for the first official meeting. Inside the grand dining room of Malfoy Manor, the parents are anxious, wondering if it’s a trap. Not that I blame them for keeping their children close to them. But those I have grown to think of as friends can handle their own. As they’ve proved not just their abilities, but their loyalty a hundred times over.

My parents died long ago, not that I care. Why should I? I never met them. My father was a filthy muggle, and my mother a blood-traitor who died for love of all things. Not that anyone knows that. They couldn’t, and they never will.

The door opens, and in walks our leader. The head of the charge against mud-bloods, is here to lead us into putting them in their rightful place, beneath our feet. Wirely and unruly black hair that hangs to her waist and long black robes that hang loosely around her frame, she steps up to the head of the table.

“You may be seated,” she says calmly, but her tone is also commanding. Everyone sits down around the table, myself included. Not daring to speak, not daring to ask the first question. She takes a long sip of her wine before leaning on the table, propping herself on her elbows as her fingers interlock.

“Firstly, I would like to thank you all for joining me here this evening. As I’m sure you are well aware, we are under attack,” she says stiffly. “Mud-bloods have never been more common than they are now. Threatening to throw everything we hold most dear out of order,” she looks around. “But no longer will we stand for it. No longer will we be seated at a table with those who don’t deserve to sit.”

“Hear, hear,” Mr. Nott says cheerfully, raising his now fourth glass of wine.

Bellatrix smiles and nods once. “Our biggest issue, as of now, is getting more people to come on board. These progressionistic,” she seethes. “People in the ministry and confirmed blood-traitors, are most unlikely to accept the eradication of muggle-born individuals. So, how do we combat this?” She asks openly.

Lucius clears his throat. “May I suggest, instead of death, exile instead?”

Stupid suggestion.

Bellatrix sits back in her seat as if pondering the ridiculous idea. “To allow them to continue mating and breeding on their own accord?” She says with a tone dripping in disappointment. “Free of any repercussions?” Lucius opens his mouth to speak again when she stops him, raising her hand. “Any other ideas?”

“My lady,” Mrs. Nott speaks up, setting down her glass of wine. “Perhaps we re-visit the ideals and ideas of Grindelwald?” Bellatrix nods for her to continue. “It seems it would be much easier to control the mud-bloods, should we have the muggles fighting alongside us,” Almost everyone snickers at the idea. “As mundane and contradictory as it may seem, there are more muggles than us. Should we find some way to control them and will them to fight for us, we could overthrow the ministry. Implement our laws and ideals, then control everyone.”

Bit ambitious and a far stretch, but the idea is there.

“Where is Grindelwald right now, Mrs. Nott?” Bellatrix asks simply.

“Pardon?” Mrs. Nott asks with a confused expression.

“Theodore,” Bellatrix turns to her son instead. “Remind your dear mother where Grindelwald is at present.”

Theo clears his throat, sitting up straighter. “Azkaban, Ms. Lestrange,” he answers cooly.

“Azkaban. That is correct,” she nods at Theo with a smile before turning to the rest of us. “I would like to remind everyone that muggles are not our concern. They are less than a speck of dirt. What we need to focus on is reestablishing pure-blood family lines. Now, how do we gain control without killing? Use your heads.”

“Capture,” I answer calmly.

“And then?” Bellatrix asks me with a smile.

“Put them in their rightful place, of course. Serving us. Our every whim and desire,” I answer, taking a sip of my bourbon.

Bellatrix smiles and nods. “Yes, yes. Make them fight for us, serve us,” she ponders. “Very good, Mr. Riddle. I wish the others at this table shared your common sense.”

My chest swells with pride, but I keep my face collected.

“Now, let’s talk strategy,” Bellatrix says cheerfully.

Part One

#harry potter smut #tom riddle #theodore nott #draco malfoy smut #regulus black #dark romance

85 notes · View notes

revkian-ruins · 18 days ago

Text

hold him down - masterpost

TW: threatened gang rape with a fade to black, threatened branding, fantasy racism, non con touching, references to past pogroms, de"humanizing" language/objectification., misogynistic language.

Introducing Itarata (formerly free elf, defiant and unaging whumpee) and what he's been up to. (Namely, not having a good time.) Itarata POV.

Itarata promises himself that the humans that have him bound will not hear him scream.

They are nothing but children to him. He was here in this world before their grandparents’ grandparents were born, and he will be here when they are nothing but dust in the ground. There will come a time where he is the only living being to remember any of their names, or there would be that time if he intended on learning any of them.

The rage at the indignity of being bound in this way, with a collar of iron heavy around his throat connected by chains to the cuffs around his wrists behind his back with barely enough slack for him to lean forward or twist his head without choking himself and the cuffs around his ankles that keep threatening to trip him, burns so bright that he leaves no time for fear. Not to mention the chain that dangles loose from the collar, down in front of him, like a leash.

He is not the child he was when Mírwen was cut down, her first life ended before either of them had even reached adulthood. He is not the young adult that had to step up to lead his people when his parents faltered, so lost to their grief that they might have, through their inability to serve the roles they’d been appointed when what would become the Orontdrim had set out in their exile from Minyas, allowed their tribe to be destroyed before it had even begun. He is the nér that endured the Dark Days and built a haven with his sword and hammer alike.

He repeats these truths to himself with every step even as he hears the humans mocking him to each other. They mostly speak Revkian, some with thicker and more noticeable accents than others. He doesn’t allow himself to react to any of the taunts. Even if he acknowledged them as meaningful, he’d rather not let on that he knows their language.

He’s never traveled through a portal before, and the trip which is mundane for the Revkians leaves him dizzy and disoriented. It doesn’t help that one of them shoves him through it. He stumbles, instinctively going to put his hands forward, but he can’t with the chains. He grunts, narrowly managing to avoid being forced to his knees in the clearing. There’s a difference in altitude, between where he was and where he is now.

He doesn’t know how far a distance he’s traveled, but it can’t be that far. The scout-mage comes through the portal she’d opened last, sweating like it’s the height of summer rather than a crisp autumn day, but capable of standing on her own power. The clouds above them are different, having moved by at minimum, around a hundred miles, but it’s clearly the same weather system. They’ve gone from an enemy camp less than a day’s ride from Fendetaras, from the safe valley behind it that has been his home for all those years, to somewhere else, much higher in the Great Mountains.

He finds himself standing in front of a different mountain fortress, one that might be impressive to a human farm worker who’d never before traveled outside their family’s grounds, but to Itarata seems at best pedestrian. Ramshackle, even, with barely the occasional gesture to decoration. A stonemason and architect of the Orontdrim whose ages haven’t even reached triple digits could single-handedly build circles around this construction. It’s serviceable, but utterly boring.  Somewhere the others will find him. His people will not abandon him. He has no doubts about this. It’s only a question of how long it will take and how merciful Itarata will be feeling when they do.

One of the soldiers on this side of the portal, one who must not have been at the attack, whistles at the sight of Itarata. Itarata snaps his head to face him, letting every iota of rage show in his gaze without caring about the strain it causes with the chains. The soldier almost takes a step back under the intensity of it. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Itarata, though, just breaks the eye contact. He sizes up Itarata’s body instead.

“Pretty thing, isn’t it?” one of the men who most definitely had been there says with a laugh as he steps out from the portal. Itarata had been unable to miss his name— Ivanov. He’d likely been the one to push Itarata, if Itarata has to guess. That Itarata is the “it” in question does not go over his head. “Move it, whore, you’re getting in the way.”

Whore is one of those words that doesn’t translate to Quenya particularly well. There is a word for someone who makes their skill at sex a trade, in the same way someone might be a smith or a weaver or a musician, but it lacks the derogatory connotations that humans apply to it. It’s not a word one would throw at a captured enemy. There is, he supposes, a word for one who cheats on their spouse.

He thinks nothing of the implication, his mind full with thoughts of vengeance.

Itarata refuses the order. They have dragged him this far, and they will have to drag him the rest of the way, regardless of how outnumbered he may be. Regardless of how many days, weeks, away his rescue may be.

“Are you stupid?” Ivanov says. “I said, move it.”

Despite his harsh words, he too withers under Itarata’s gaze, only able to bear the intensity of it for a moment. He can’t be older than twenty five.

Ivanov kicks him this time, square in the back. Itarata keeps quiet even as he stumbles forward, managing to stay standing even fettered as he is. Even as the pain in his chest from the bruised ribs burns.

“You’ll die for this,” Itarata tells him simply, letting his head go back to center and setting his focus to a point in the distance. He tells all of them. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. His rage is as cold as ice. Earlier in the day, before the chains, he’d attempted to offer mercy. He’d told them that if they’d release him, he would spare them. That offer had expired the moment they collared him, held him down against the dirt and chained him like a dog. “If you release me now, I will make it quick.”

Admittedly. That had been only in Quenya. Just as this is. That doesn’t mean that most of the soldiers don’t feel the weight of the thing that isn’t a threat but a promise.

Most of them. Not all of them.

Itarata hears the portal behind him shut as the scout-mage and the last of the soldiers step through into the clearing outside the borders of the fort. Though, he supposes, it’s less of a noise and more of a sudden absence of the noise from the other side. The birds are cut off mid song, leaving only the ones on this side.

His rage doesn’t leave him as he realizes his escape’s been cut off, and it’s not hopelessness that threatens to rise up in his chest. He already knew he was surrounded, that these chains would keep his escape from being that simple. But there’s something to the gap between the two places being opened and closed so casually that reminds him, although he is old, these people are heirs to

“Not quite as much of a coward as the old captain’s bitchboy, huh?” one of the men says, turning to look at a friend. Looking away only slightly lessens Itarata’s presence.

“Kind of freaky,” his friend says. “Seeing a dog like that acting like a person.”

The humiliation, Itarata tells himself, is on them. Any debasement he may suffer reflects only on the heads of those that would lessen themselves to commit it.

“Bet you Nikolai can fix him right up something good, though,” another one cuts in, then scowls. “Wish we coulda grabbed the bitchboy too. I would’ve loved to bend him over in front of Mikhail, finally take the wool from his eyes about how much of a slut that bastard really was. What do you think he was doing there?”

“Probably looking for its master. Poor puppy dog, lost without someone holding its leash. I bet the feral ones eat him alive.”

Itarata keeps his expression level. He’d caught glimpses of what he’d thought might’ve been a foreign elf in the fighting, tall as he’d been for a stranger. He’d almost convinced himself the nér had been a hallucination, a trick of his mind in the middle of a fight he hadn’t been ready for despite all his years. After all, the stranger nearly looked like Mírwen.

At least, he can only assume they’re talking about an elf. It’s the same language they’ve started using for him. Cruel, objectifying. Threatening all sorts of horrors that Itarata once hoped were gone from his life for good, only this time he won't be able to escape it. He clutches his fists tight enough that his knuckles turn white. Esteldur will take care of him...

That’s only one of the conversations happening around him— about him. He catches all of them, and he lets them fuel his rage instead of trying to ignore them. His trembles are of fury, not of terror. He will not let them see him hurt.

“Arrogant son of a bitch. I hope he was fucking worth it.” That soldier, Donavan, spits at him. Itarata doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I can’t wait to hear him begging.”

“Elf bitch thinks he’s too good for us.”

“Pretty mouth on that one, even nicer than Morwë’s. You think Nikolai will let us put him through the paces?”

“Please, it looks like it’ll bite your cock off.”

Morwë. That’s the name of the nér that was at the battle. A Mólado, based on the way they’re talking about him. Itarata’s more familiar than most Orontdrim with the system that the Revkians inherited and managed to make even more brutal. He itches to reach for the sword that’s been taken from him, with a hand that’s bound.

Patience, he reminds himself. He surrendered rather than allowing the fighting to continue for a reason. For several reasons— the faces of his fallen people burn in his mind. Recent losses. A pain he’s used to being a dull ache ignites fresh, and he buries it with fury.

He’s made compromises to keep his people safe before. He’s kept the true horrors of the Móladar from his people. It’s not a secret, exactly, as any of the Orontdrim is perfectly capable of venturing into the human world on their own or asking questions of those who have walked the Iron Path. But it’s a tactic assumption between all of them to not volunteer the information. After all, the ones who returned here are the ones who have given up on trying to free their cousins.

He knows it haunts Angiel. Not only what she saw but also that she was unable to dissuade people from following in her stead. So many of them have failed to return, and there are nights where he wonders if they’ve fallen to the blades of humans, been captured and turned into a part of the very system they’d set out to destroy, or if they’re still out there. Seeing the world, seeing its horrors and deciding they can do something about it, that they don’t have any choice.

The threats — promises — from these men wash over Itarata’s back. He forces them to drag him, or at the very least, he forces Ivanov to grab the chains and try to drag him. His strength is much more profound than that of the soldier, and his digging his heels in.

“Come on, you idiot. You’re the one that surrendered. Do you want us to open that portal and go back? Kill some more of your men?” Ivanov demands. Itarata hides his reaction to that. They can’t— a force of this size, mostly reservists who, if the talk of Mikhail is to be believed, was already split into multiple factions? There’s no way there’s any other mage-scouts here. They’ll have to at least wait until the morning. He adopts a posture of faux confusion, unwilling to reveal he’s fluent in their language. “Drag more of them here?”

“The poor thing doesn’t know what you’re saying, Ivanov,” one of his friends says, mockery clear in his tone, before looking around. “Any of you lot speak elf drivvle?”

Nobody nods.

“Mikhail might…” someone offers. “If the bitch taught him any.”

“Pft, Mikhail might be down bad for that slut, but he’s not gone that native,” another one retorts. “Besides, you really trust him to translate? Just beat the idiot into submission. Drag its unconscious body down to Nikolai, if it refuses to come with. Don’t need to worry about breaking it like we did with the skinny bitch, this one’s got some fight in it and some meat on its bones.”

He mentally retracts the second offer of mercy, the one for a quick death. He doesn’t consider himself particularly brutal, but the way they’re speaking of Morwë, of an elf he’s never even met, is enough to make him want to skin the lot of them, with the same practiced hand that he’s used on thousands, hundreds of thousands, of prey animals over the centuries. Except for these bastards, he wouldn’t give time the privilege of dying first.

He thinks nothing of himself. Of the fate that awaits him. He can’t acknowledge it. Not by the hand of humans. He is older than this empire, older than the Revkian tribes that founded it.

“You sure about that? It’s barely been reacting to what’s happened so far. Morwë must’ve been a defective model, that little shit would fold at a raised voice.”

“Fucker’s creepy. Maybe this was a shit idea,” the one who’d already suggested their attack had been a mistake chimes in.

“Should kill him and sell the body instead, save ourselves the hassle,” someone on the other side of the crowd adds. Itarata starts to parse the sheer number of them, and something resembling dread starts to build in his chest despite himself. Most of the attacking force has already returned to the castle with their loot in tow, but that still leaves dozens of them out here, surrounding him like a swarm. A few people start nodding along with that idea.

The one that’d said they couldn’t wait to hear him beg— a day that will never happen, in Itarata’s mind — steps forward, closer. “You’re letting him get in your heads. Fucker might be immortal, but he’ll still bleed.”

He steps so close, and Itarata can see he’s strong. There’s a difference in his uniform— an officer— but their internal hierarchy doesn’t mean much to Itarata. The only thing that means is that, unlike Ivanov, he’s actually well fed. He sizes up Itarata and he almost manages to hold his gaze. When he can’t, he grows angry instead of hesitating.

“You two,” he orders, pointing at two of the bigger and burlier men in the crowd. “Hold him up.” They each grab one of his shoulders. Itarata feels his heart try to jump into his chest, for the first time his shield of anger cracking. Itarata would try to muscle his way out of their grip, and in another place, he might’ve been able to. But he can’t position his feet effectively, with the cuffs. The officer slams his fist into Itarata’s gut— hard.

They’d stripped his armor from him already, leaving only his sheer silk shirt to protect him from the assault. If Itarata was standing under his own power, this blow would be enough to knock him into the dirt. Instead, the grip that contains him, traps him, keeps him standing. It hurts, especially with his injuries from earlier in the day, and he bites down on a scream. He will not give them the satisfaction. He breathes in as steadily as he can, with the wind knocked out of him.

He’s taken hits worse than this in the past month, in training with his people. If this is what they think will break him, they’ve got bad news coming their way.

“Kramar. Go tell Nikolai we’ve got a present for him soon.” The man that moves to follow the order looks at Itarata with something resembling pity, before running off. Once he’s satisfied that Kramar has in fact left, the officer leans forward. Itarata wonders if the officer had chosen this in order to allow him to look down at him. The man’s barely six feet, if that. Itarata’s got near two and a half feet on him, when unencumbered. “Hey. Elf boy. I know you’re pretending not to understand us.”

“What?” Itarata gets out, in a Revkian that’s only half a century or so dated, as he regains control over his breathing. It’s usually easier, but the hands on his back and on the chains binding them, let alone the officer’s breath on his face, are doing a number to his internal equilibrium. “How did you know?“

The officer smiles and several of the gathered soldiers break into laughter.

“It was a guess, before you’d just confirmed it for me,” the officer says. His voice seems almost sing songy, soft but cruel. He reaches a hand out to trace Itarata’s chin, and Itarata pulls back as far as he can, avoiding the touch, but one of the men holding him pushes his head forward, into the officer’s hand. Itarata feels like a fool. A beginner’s trick, one any child not even triple digits of age, could see through. And he’d fallen for it.

“Now. You’re already at our mercy. You will be going to see Nikolai. But whether that’ll be right now, willingly, or after everyone here, everyone that risked their lives and some who’d lost friends in the process, to get you have had their way with you right here and now, not even inside our walls… well, that’s up to you.”

He reaches forward with the hand that’s not holding his jaw tight, groping at the space between Itarata’s legs before finding his flaccid cock and giving it a tight squeeze before letting go, like the meaning of his words wasn’t already down there.

Itarata doesn’t try to pull back this time, uncertain if that would count as an answer. It’s not out of surrender— he looks at the officer with the same resentment as ever. He has no intention of making this easier for the bastard. However, he’s an adult. He can face the fact that getting so thoroughly injured before they’ve even dragged him through the door won’t exactly be conducive to his escape plans.

The crowd titters, some of them drawing closer. He can see their faces, hungry, and for whatever reason, he remembers the pile of bodies he found Esteldur in, after the first pogrom, all those centuries ago. Buried underneath his father’s body, unable to even scream for fear of drawing attention to the humans that had cut so many of them down that it had necessitated a mass grave. They’d just been kids then. So young, only starting to conceive of the brutality of the world they loved so much.

“It depends,” Itarata says, his voice smooth as though he’s talking which type of tea he’d prefer. The response from the crowd is mixed. Some laugh, amused by his insistence on acting as he had any control here. Some seem to grow angry, scowling. He hears more than a few of them mutter about arrogance, which he thinks is rather rich coming from a bunch of upstarts that would barely qualify as prepubescent to him. It’s only arrogance if the pride is unearned.

“On?” someone from the crowd calls out, and Itarata doesn’t answer, looking pointedly at the officer instead.

“You heard the question, boy,” the officer says, and the absurdity of a human man calling him that makes rage rise in Itarata’s throat, sharp and acidic.

“On who this Nikolai is,” Itarata says, stating the obvious. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not exactly from around here.”

The snickers are subdued, but still present.

“Oh, that’s easy,” the officer says. “He’s the one that’ll be branding you.”

It’s like the world goes cold. Or maybe that’s just his blood turning to ice. Itarata replays the sentence in his mind, over and over again, searching for another interpretation. Replaying everything the soldiers had said. He’d expected the harassment— hell, his diplomatic meetings with the Revkians prior to this had been laced with similar threats barely masked as jokes, not that he'd let anyone know. He hadn’t ruled out the possibility that one or two of them might actually try it.

“No,” he says, the first hint of any emotion entering other than a sense of superiority and rage entering his voice.

Not despair. Not yet. But horror, definitely.

He thinks of all the words they’d used to describe the broken Moládrin nér. What they’d said they’d wanted to do to him.

“He’s going to need you still for the procedure,” the officer continues, a sharp smile covering his face. “So one way or another, we’ll be breaking you in. Could just carry you up to his quarters, hold you down when we get there and take advantage of you after, but I think we all want to see what you can do when there’s still some fight in you.”

Itarata could’ve tolerated this if it was just the threatened gang rape. Beyond that, even if they’d tried to sell him into slavery, he would endure. He would outlive them, and one day, he would think no more of them. Just like he endured the Dark Days, like he’s moved past them.

But a brand— that’s forever. Decades in the futures. Centuries. Millennia. For as old as he feels now, Itarata knows that the future is incalculably vast. Even past the end of this lifespan, if he’s slain in combat or brought down by some natural disaster, he will return with his memories of his current life locked behind a shroud of pain and his loyalties bound to whomever the brander wills it. If he’s lucky, that owner will be a mortal man and in a century, he’ll be able to walk mostly free. But what’s the point of binding an immortal slave to only one generation?

“No,” he says again, his composure cracking. He thinks of this Morwë, his appearance in the battle like a ghost.

“No isn’t exactly an option here, elf boy,” the officer says, tapping his finger against Itarata’s jaw impatiently.

“My name,” he says through a rage and building dread that he can no longer conceal. “Is Itarata.”

The officer pulls back his invasive touch, only to hit him. Backhanded. There’s nothing Itarata can do to defend himself, so he just takes it, face burning.

“Your name is whatever we decide it is, brat. Do you understand?”

Itarata laughs. Just a single “hah.” These men, insignificant, are used to dealing with the fallen Rethyar, beaten down by centuries of abuse. Depending on how old Morwë is, it’s entirely possible he’d never known Mithyas as it was in its glory days. But Itarata has known freedom, has known glory, in a way these men never will.

They will not make a thrall out of Itarata like they did him.

“You will die by my hand,” Itarata says, and this time, he knows they can understand him.

“C’mon, Cap,” one of the soldiers chipped in, clearly uncomfortable. Itarata would face him, if he wasn’t sure that the officer would drag his face back, and he doesn’t want to give up the staring contest. “How long are you gonna let him run that mouth before we’re allowed to shove something in it? The unlucky son of a bitch has made his choice.”

The officer doesn’t look away from Itarata, just grabbing the loose chain that dangles from the collar at his neck.

“Let’s bring him inside first. There’s better places to attach this to, and besides, I’m sure plenty of the others will want a turn. The whole base has been missing having Morwë around.” The officer pauses. “Make sure people know to expect a fight, though. We all learned a lesson today, that not all elves are as much of a pushover as he was.”

Elves? Pushovers? They really must only be familiar with the Móladar.

“Lotta good men died for that,” someone in the crowd scowls. “This bastard better make us some good money.”

“He’ll pay for himself several times over,” the officer replies, still intently focused on Itarata, the words clearly more meant for him than the critic. “I assure you.”

Itarata doesn’t listen to his words, instead returning to his promise to himself. It doesn’t matter if they’re planning on branding him or not— he will not break for them. They will not get a single scream from his lips. He’ll assure it.

#whumpblr #whump writing #whump #whump oc #elf whump #homecoming (the long way around)#homecoming!morwë #defiant whumpee #whumpee #itarata #unbroken whumpee #group whump

20 notes · View notes

disguting-girl-reads · 10 months ago

Text

MY FAVORITE (LONG) FICS - Wincest Edition

I will not be placing them in any specific order. Also, a long-fic in my definition is anything above 50k words.

Pine Sweat by Goshen (applecrumbledore)

Sam watched Dean hack up firewood with his hatchet. The magically-induced heat wave had his shirt soaked with sweat.

“Did you ever have a, uh… experimental phase?” Sam smacked his lips, trying to think of a diplomatic way to phrase it. “That kid—by which I mean you—has been staring. At me. Kind of a lot.”

(Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.)

This one is so sweet and funny and the plot is so good!! I usually don't go for time-travel stories, but that's a comfort one for me, I really love teenage Dean and Sam in this one.

10 chapters (105,324k words)

TW: Canon-Typical Violence, Animal Death (brief), Mild Gore (not many TW, that's a mostly wholesome one)

To Sound The Depths by Pendragony

Dean has always set aside his needs, repressing his instincts for the sake of Sam. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t even know how to be an Omega any more. When the brothers pose as a couple to investigate a spate of drowned Alphas, Dean starts to get back in touch with his Omega self. But when the heat is on, will Dean still be able to protect Sam?

a fake dating ABO AU that I love so much. Fake dating for a case is one of my favorite plots in Wincest fics.

15 chapters (66,460k words)

TW: Slight Dub-Con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Attempted Sexual Assault

Suave & Complicated by OldToadWoman

Sam and Dean discover a useful, little, magical artifact. No one is forcing them to do anything. No one is going to die if they don't. They don't even feel a strange compulsion. But… it would be really helpful if they powered up the magical stone… and… all they have to do is kiss.

This one is so damm funny. It seens almost like a crack-fic, but the plot is good, and the smut is still hot. Dean is so oblivious in this one, poor dumb thing lol

11 chapters (56,923k words)

TW: Canon-Typical Violence (it's just a really wholesome one)

The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst

Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

Another fake dating for a case. Also, that was the first wincest fic I've read!

13 chapters (62,264k words)

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence (only TW's is what usually already happens on the show, soooo)

Kill The Lights by silver9mm

Less than a minute had passed since Sam had killed the guard and then five more people. This man’s speech had lasted maybe twenty seconds, but Sam had been separated from Dean for three hundred and sixteen days and nine hours, which made the total time of his life without Dean nearly five complete years, and the thought of listening to this fucker talk for one more second instead of getting his brother and getting the fuck out was unendurable.

I think that's the darkest wincest fic I have read so far. This one wins the most-fucked-up-fic-award in this post. It's really hot, though, and I really enjoyed this one.

35 chapters (143k words)

TW: Extremely Dubious Consent,Rape/Non-con, Bad BDSM Etiquette (really bad guys, lol), Unhappy Ending, Implied Bestiality (really only implied, there's no graphic scenes)

#wincest #sam x dean #samdean #wincest fic #mina's fic recs

77 notes · View notes

lucifertheanalyzer · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/critics-of-the-helluvaverse/post/782804402529583104/tw-for-assault-i-think?source=share

I reblogged that post and had it in my queue, guess I have to post it now. 🤷🏾 The playlist has normal videos in like memes, early YouTube videos, and clips from tv shows. It is not all "non-con". The top three videos do not feature those women getting rape. She even liked Onision and Shane Dawson videos back when they were popular, this is how damn old this playlist is.

I am not going comment on the rest stuff mentioned in your ask because those are topics I am saving for a very long blog post or a YouTube video. I am just over this playlist that 16-18 Viv made being bought up, lets focus on the 32-year-old Viv and her recent comments and behaviors.

#ask #tw sex assault #vivziepop critical #vivziepop critique #vivziepop criticism

21 notes · View notes

gauloiseblue · 1 year ago

Text

I'm Only Flesh and Blood

(König × Reader)

[Dead dove: do not eat | MDNI]

TW: rape, non-con, imprisonment, death, violence, overall dark theme

(I don't know why, but this song just resonates with the story, not because of the lyrics, but the way he sings it.)

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You didn't realize there was a war on the horizon, before it all fell down upon the city.

Between the rumbles and the upstanding pillar, you coughed as the dust surrounded you.

You screamed for help, as the shattered walls trapped you in, leaving no space for you to move. You did it over and over again, until your throat scratched. Yet no one came to rescue, no one heard you scream.

When the night fell, you curled up your body, trying to find warmth in the harsh structures. There's no light that could reach your place, you only knew if it's daylight when the temperature rose up slightly, although it soon blurred as you lost track of time.

You were starving, your lips were cracked and split open. You thought you'd die like this, until you heard a heavy stomp of a boot.

There was a sound of a man shouting above you, and a heavy thud soon followed. You didn't have the energy to speak, as you watched a little light come through the rubbles. One by one, the wreckages were lifted, and you winced at the glaring light upon you.

There's a shout, and more shouts followed after in a language you didn't understand. You covered your eyes to see a soldier stretched his hand to you. Just like a fool, you reached up to him.

The event that unfolded between the rescue and the medical help was fuzzy in your memory. What you knew was, you woke up in a cold room, with men in uniform by your bed.

They asked you your name, and basic questions that you weakly answered. After they wrote it all down, you heard them mumble the word 'foreigner'.

"Where am I?" You asked them with a hoarse voice.

"Hospital." One of them said, before they both left the room.

Your brows furrowed, as you sensed something's off, but can't pinpoint what it was.

When the doctor declared you've made a full recovery, you were immediately brought to a different building. The man took you to an office, where a hunched figure in a mask sat at the desk.

He shooed your escort with a wave, and he left the room without a sound. Leaving you with the big man.

"What's your name?" He asked with a strange accent.

"(Name)." You responded.

"They said you're not from here." He stood up, and you witnessed the full glory of his height, "Visiting?"

You slowly nodded, nothing to add.

He shot you a sneer, as he walked closer to you, "You didn't know there was a conflict?"

"No," You lowered your head, "I thought it was safe."

You saw his polished boots as he stood in front of you, before he lifted up your chin so you'd face him.

"You're lucky you're inside the ruin, you know." He began to speak with malice slowly dripped out of his mouth, "Your kin were mostly dead or imprisoned. The women were raped, and the men were skinned alive. But you're still alive. You must be lucky."

The grip on your jaw became harder, and you whimpered, both from fear and the pain.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

He let go of your face, and you immediately took a step back with your legs trembling. Your gaze was down, and you couldn't see the smile on his face. He walked past you, and you heard the door open, before a soldier took your hand and led you through the hallway.

In the other room, you met several girls with the same expression as yours—scared, confused, unsettled. You stood beside one of them, and watched as the soldier left.

The girl turned to you, asking your name.

"It's (Name)."

"Oh." She responded, "Where were you from?"

You told her the name of your hometown. "You?"

"I lived in the neighboring country." She smiled, "I'm Nina by the way, nice to meet you."

You returned the gesture.

"Do you know why we're here?" You asked.

"I'm not sure." She said as she rubbed her neck, "But I overheard the soldiers referring to us as flowers, I'm not sure what that means."

"Flowers?"

"Pretty flowers, in fact." She clarified, "One of them even said exotic ones. I just hoped it's not what I think it is."

You opened your mouth to reply, but the conversation was interrupted by the opening door.

There's a man striding from the door, and stopping on his track to see the people in the room. He scanned them one by one, before he turned to the soldier on his side.

"Which one is the Colonel's girl?"

The soldier looked at you, before leaning in to whisper.

"Hmm," He let out a displeased grunt, "Well, take her away then. There's no point in choosing her when she's off the list."

The soldier said something to him, but he dismissed him.

"I don't care, take her away."

He pressed his lips together before he nodded.

"Come." He said to you, and Nina immediately grabbed your hand.

"Don't go." Her eyes were wide as she told you, and you were alerted by the fear in her face. But you didn't have the time to process it, as the man ripped you away from her, dragging you out of the room.

"No—" You tried to protest, "Let me go."

He stayed silent, while his hand was planted on your arm.

"Where are you taking me?"

"None of your business."

"It's my business to know."

"Shut up."

The two of you arrived outside, where he quickly called a car to the lobby. As the car parked, he opened the rear door and shoved you inside.

The door was already closed by the time you shouted at him.

The whole ride was silent, as you bit your nail, trying to make sense of the situation. You tried to look out the window, figuring out where the driver's taking you. Though you found nothing, not a single clue.

It took perhaps 15 minutes before the car parked in front of a house—a big house, in fact. At the front door, you met another man in military uniform. He didn't say much as he let you in, before locking the door behind.

It took a minute for you to process what happened, before you knocked on the door, asking why you're here. Again, you received no answer.

Deciding it's not worth the time, you began to roam around to find a way out.

It's a two-story house, with a big dining hall and equally big kitchen. It has a study room, and a meeting room right beside it, the two rooms were connected by a door. They looked like they've been used recently.

Upstairs, you found the bedrooms, as well as the bathrooms. There's a door leading to a balcony, but it was locked.

When you came back to the first floor, you tried your luck in the study room. It was full of papers, and you skimmed over it. But it's all written in a language you didn't understand, so you decided to move to the drawers. But as you bent down to reach the handle, you heard an unmistakable voice coming from the door.

"Don't touch that."

You lifted your head to see the same man you met in the office. He was leaning on the frame with his arms folded, watching you intently behind the mask.

"Curious, aren't you?"

You looked down to avoid his stare, "I'm sorry."

He took the time to examine your face, before he spoke, "I was planning to take you home with me, but it seems like my lieutenant sent you away without my permission."

"What do you want?" You asked him through gritted teeth, "You're not planning to send me back home, aren't you?"

He smirked, "Clever thing." He said, "Do you really wish to know that?"

You kept your glare at him as he explained.

"You see, you're still officially missing, and it's not our job to report every single person we found." He walked toward the bookshelves with his hands on his back and his chin up, "So if we found someone, it's our right to keep them."

He pulled a file from the shelves, and threw it onto the table.

"It's yours." He told you, "Go on and read it."

You looked at him with disdain, before you flipped the file open. There, you found all of your private information—the copy of your and your parents' IDs, your bank accounts, and detailed information about your background. Although it's written in German, you knew it from the written dates and a few familiar names.

"Do you understand now?" He spoke in a low tone, "You have no choice."

He left the room as you froze on the spot, unable to bring yourself together. The soldier by the front door took you to a bedroom and locked the door behind as ordered. Leaving you alone, at a loss.

You stared blankly at the window, and took notice how it's screwed shut. Even if you were to break the glass, it's already lined with railing. The same applied to the small window above the toilet, and you saw no possible way out in the bathroom too.

Maybe you could open it with something, something that resembles a screwdriver.

When the sun had set, you heard the lock turned, before the soldier entered with a tray and a jug of water. He set them down on the nightstand, before leaving without a word once again.

You looked at the food, and you had no appetite despite your stomach growl. You didn't touch the plate, but filled up the glass with water. That was it, that's your dinner for that day

At night, you couldn't sleep. You could hear the clock ticking, reminding you that you're still here. Pretty much alive.

20 minutes past midnight—you knew it from the toll of the grandfather clock outside—you caught the sound of the door opening, then closing. It came from the room beside you, the master bedroom.

That night, he spared you from the dreadful ordeal of sleeping together. But your luck was running thin after the third day of your stay.

You were laying on your bed with your thoughts, before the door of your bedroom opened. Your blood ran cold, as you heard a heavy step entering the room, and went towards your place.

The blanket rustled, as the man slipped inside. He settled into the bed, before pulling you into his chest.

Your heart beat hard against your chest, and you began to feel yourself sweating. You knew Fortuna frowned at you when he slid his hand under your neck, pressing his fingers on your pulse.

"You're still awake, aren't you?"

You bit your lower lip, and slowed down your breathing. All was an useless attempt to calm you down.

"Don't worry, I won't touch you tonight."

You took a sharp breath as you caught the meaning of it. It made him chuckle, as he buried his face into your nape.

"But if you try something funny, I can't guarantee that to you."

Your body turned cold when the words left his mouth, to the point that you stayed still, petrified by the threat.

He did keep his promise, as he fell asleep right by your side. Perhaps if you're a bit braver, you could lift his hand and escape that night, but his words hung on your head, as if it's a guillotine that'd fall on you if you moved an inch.

You didn't sleep that night. Drowsiness only came to you after hearing the birds singing, signaling the first arrival of the sunray. And you were too tired to notice the way he stirred, as it went closer to his waking hour.

In the afternoon, you found yourself alone in bed, with the door locked, and the breakfast on the table.

You survived that night, but it didn't mean you'd make it on the other days.

Unfortunately, it came sooner than you prayed.

It was your fault, you were careless. You thought he wouldn't pay any mind to a missing cutlery, but he did.

At the dinner, he asked you to accompany him at the dining table, and you sat there, blissfully unaware of the impending torture.

As you chewed the tender steak, he announced his concern about the lack of butter knife in the dishwasher.

You stopped at your track, as your body tensed up. The meat stayed in your mouth, as your throat tightened up, closing your chance to swallow.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He asked with a cold glare, "Did you think I'm stupid?"

You kept your gaze to the plate, as the alarm blared in your head.

"Answer me!" He slammed his fist on the table, and you flinched away in fear. The reaction caused you to choke, forcing you to cough out the meat into the napkin.

"I'm sorry." You whimpered, while gripping your hand so it would stop shaking. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, you thought the time had stopped for you. Until you heard the chair moved, and he stood by the table.

"Hands on the table." He retorted, and your body obeyed him without delay.

You jumped when he threw away your plate, sending it and the cutleries to the floor as it shattered upon the contact. You began to feel unsteady, as the panic was rising from your chest.

He stood behind you, and you trembled as you heard the sound of a zipper.

That was the day you found that he'd use sex as a punishment.

He made sure that it hurts, and left you bleeding, he'd render your legs useless by bruising your hip and insides, as he rammed his cock against your core. You screamed at him, begging him to stop, but he kept going until he ripped the orgasm out of you. By the time he finished, you're entirely spent, as you curled up on the floor.

In daze, you felt yourself being picked up, before laid down on the mattress. Leaving you wondering about it in the morning.

He was cruel, but he took you to the bedroom instead of leaving you. He was merciless, but he bothered to put a few medicines on your tray.

You didn't understand him, and you didn't like it one bit. You had a hunch that it couldn't be that simple—that he felt guilty, or he felt the need to take care of you.

To your disdain, he continued to do it for weeks. He helped you up, and gave you the medicines every morning. He kept it as a routine, until you could stand on your feet again.

While your body's recovered, the phantom pain still throbbed between your legs. Reminding you of the consequences for your misbehavior.

The memory of it kept you in line, as you unconsciously complied with his demands.

That was, until his demand became more outrageous.

It seemed that he was testing you—putting you through unnecessary trials of whether you would obey him or not. He'd put a choker on you. He'd ask you to get on your knees, and put your head on his lap. He'd tell you to sing, while his finger slipped inside your panties. He'd place you on his desk, and told you to spread your legs while he watched you pleasure yourself. He'd force you to watch an erotica without your pants on, so you'd leave a stain on your chair. He didn't ask for sex, but what he requested was way more improper, to the point that you felt dirtier after doing it.

And he seemed to be pleased by it, he delighted in your humiliation.

He also got off on your fear.

He'd play a cat and mouse game with you, and he'd scream threats that'd set you running. He knew you're scared of him, and he used it to his advantage. And when he caught you, you'd be forced on your knees as he shoved his cock into your mouth.

You're aware that there'd be an escalation from the moment he declared he'd take care of you, but you weren't prepared for the level of depravity he possessed.

The way he'd threaten you with sex, and soothe you with aftercare, it was too much.

One day, you sobbed as you begged him to end it all, with your tears running down your face. But he just sneered as he rubbed his member against your clit, forcing you to watch as your body trembled when you came for the fifth time.

There were times when it's all quiet, when he was wrapped up in his work. Those were the times where you could gather your thoughts, and planned for a possible escape.

You knew about his gun collections in the study room, you just needed the bullet. You couldn't really escape through the front door, except when it's night. So you began to devise a plan.

In the back of your mind, your rationality told you it's impossible; that even if you killed him, his affiliates would catch you so easily. You have nowhere to go. But you shoved it back into the water, as your feeling thrashed inside your chest. You need to go. You need to get away from him.

Fortunately—and unfortunately—you found out the answer to your plan.

He hosted a house party with all of the soldiers. Some of them were recruits, and some of them looked like they're on the same level as him, judging by the presence of a pretty partner on their side.

You were given the role of a quiet escort, and you were allowed to leave his side only when he told you so. You wrapped your hand around his arm, as he greeted his guests.

The last friend of his came a little later, and your eyes were widened as you saw a familiar face. It was Nina.

She looked thinner compared to the last time you saw her. Her eyes were hollow, and her face was pale, with the exclusion of the red mark on her cheek.

You had the chance to talk to her when they all sat at the dining table. While the men were talking over brunch, you made your way to her and stood beside her.

She was quiet, and you doubted that she heard you, but it only lasted for a moment before she muttered out I'm fine.

"He slapped me this morning because I forgot to brew his coffee." Her lips trembled as she spoke, "But he told me to prepare everything for the party last night, of course I'd forget it."

Your brows furrowed with sympathy, as she continued her snivel, "I should've felt grateful that he only slapped me. The other girls—the other girls got it worse. But I—everything I did was wrong in his eyes. I don't—I'm so sick of it."

She quietly sobbed, and you took the initiative to pull her aside, guiding her to the restroom.

In there, you got the full length of her story.

The man who took him treated her as a housemaid, but never addressed her as such. He'd shout at her constantly, and he'd shove her face against the counter, forcing her to look at the little dust spot she missed. At night, he'd force himself upon her, with little to no preparation. And when she tried to escape one time, he brought home the head of her mother. The only family she had left.

You didn't know what to feel, but you could see that she got it worse than anyone.

You tried to soothe her, but you knew the wound was larger than you could stitch. It could never be healed.

As you both returned to the dining room, you found the table empty, as the men had already moved to his study room.

And your heart triumphed when you saw the key in his hand, as he opened the locked drawer to fetch something vital for your escape.

The bullets.

You watched him as he slipped them one by one into the old revolver. You burned the image of it in your head—the silver, big barreled revolver.

He then invited everyone in the room to walk with him, with the intent of showing a demonstration.

"This thing is a beauty, a wild horse," He remarked as he exhibited the firearm, "You need to learn to tame it before you ride it, or she'll kick you off the mount."

The men laughed, as some of them added an equally filthy joke. He chuckled before turning his body and stretching his arm to aim at the target.

There was an apple on the fence, on the far side of the garden. And the red fruit stood still, before it exploded as his gun went off with a bang.

The men cheered, applauding the magnificent show that you couldn't understand. Why did they praise it? Wasn't a gun supposed to do that?

You didn't have the time to ruminate, as you heard your friend whisper under her breath.

"He loves you."

The chatter from the men almost drowned her voice entirely, that you had to double-check your hearing.

"What?" You asked her.

She turned her face towards you, and a tear rolled down on her cheek. The sight of her stunned you, as she reached to touch your cheek.

"He never took his eyes off you." She muttered as she leaned closer to you. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, you thought you felt her lips brush against yours, as she pulled you into a kiss. And you almost taste the wine in her tongue, until a sharp shrill flew past you with an incredible speed. Before you knew it, you were on the ground, with her body slumped against you.

You sat there, watching the open side of her head as it dripped dark fluid into your dress. It was warm, and slowly seeped through the fabric, spilling over your thighs.

You didn't know who was screaming.

You couldn't remember how long exactly before they removed her body from you. The party must be over since the men took you to your room, leaving you alone as you sank into your chair. Your hands couldn't stop shaking, as you saw them stained with red.

What happened to your dress? It was supposed to be white, wasn't it?

You stared at your knees, as the image of her head was still fresh in your mind. You felt your vision narrowed, as if you watched yourself through the third eye. You weren't there, you were still on the ground, with your friend's head on your lap.

The door was opened, but you didn't notice it. You didn't notice any presence, before a hand softly landed on your shoulder.

You jumped out from your chair, almost shouted for the second time, if not for his embrace.

It caught you off guard, and you began to sob against his chest. You couldn't help it, it was the only comfort you had, even though you knew that he had removed every other hand just so you'd choose him.

"Don't be sorry." He gently lulled you, "She brought it upon herself."

He removed the bloodied dress from you, before turning away to fetch a wet towel. You didn't have the energy to fight him, moreover to lift your finger. So you let him clean the blood off your face, and off your body.

You didn't resist when he put the fresh clothes on you, and he guided you to the bed, letting your head fall onto the pillow. He didn't do much and left the room without a word.

On the bed, you let your mind wander to your friend—her hollow stare, the gaping wound in her heart, you should've known it. There's a quiet anger in you, as well as a deep sense of loss. She used you as a means to end her pain, but she had no other choice. She had nothing left.

For days, you asked yourself if it's the only way for her, or if you could help her, reach out to her just a little further. But what came back was an echo, since she was already an empty shell long before you could help her.

You were angry at yourself, angry at him, angry at the man who took her. Yet you couldn't do anything about it, you were powerless.

He was smart enough not to bother you, since you'd erupt at any given moment. But he'd snap at you if you crossed the line, and you'd end up with tears, as you bit your lips shut.

You don't know what to do with this anger, you still don't know the answer to this day.

While you have the plan ready, you haven't chosen the execution date. You need to be close enough to him to take the key, but you're still repulsed by him.

A week has passed by, and you find the courage to close the distance between you and him. You begin to join him for dinner, and keep him company in his study room.

That's when you start to see the crack.

There's a time gap where you can carry out the plan, at least the first plan. When he comes home, he usually leaves his things unattended at dinner time. You would have the freedom to roam, and you could sneak into his room for a short time. You once made sure which pocket that had the key in, and did a double-take a few days later. When you're certain of it, you move to the gun collections. You had memorized the revolver, so it didn't take long before you found it.

With that in mind, you're ready at any time.

You maintain a good facade in front of him, as you wait for the moment to strike.

The chance comes to you one night, when he decides to postpone the dinner. He has to talk with someone outside, and leaves his things on the dining table.

The window of time will be short, since the time it takes for him to finish will be uncertain. But you take it nevertheless.

You don't waste any time as you pull the key from his vest's pocket, and march toward the study room.

Adrenaline rushes through your body, and you're shaking as you take the revolver off the padded wall. You then turn your heel as you approach the desk, sliding the key with difficulties, before unlocking the drawer.

Alas, you run out of time.

You hear the front door close, and a heavy step echoes through the house. You hold your breath as you slide the cylinder release, and take a few bullets in your hand.

"Mäuse?" Your panic rises as you hear his call, with trembling hands, you try to push the bullets into the cylinder. Alas, one of them falls to the floor.

The noise must've alerted him, as the sound of his step turns into a heavy bolt.

You only manage to put two bullets in, before slapping the cylinder shut and aim at the door, right at the same time as his arrival.

He stops in his tracks when he sees you inside, with the gun in your hands.

"Don't come any closer!" You shouted a warning at him, though you couldn't hide the quiver in your voice.

He stands by the door, with his face unreadable, as it hides behind the mask. You pull the hammer, while your finger rests on the trigger. You're ready to shoot, he knows it from your stance.

He sighs, shaking his head in disapproval, "I gave you time, and this is how you repay me?"

"Don't—don't move." You tried to warn him once again, "I'll shoot if you move."

"Can you even shoot me with those hands?" He leered at you, taunting you with his words, "You won't hit any target if you keep shaking."

He catches you off guard as he storms the room, forcing you to pull the trigger.

The bullet hit his shoulder, and he shouts in pain. The shot you released enrages him, as he pulls a sledgehammer from his side.

You don't have the time to aim as you shoot the second bullet, and it flies past him, leaving him unharmed.

A high-pitched scream escapes your mouth as the hammer slams onto the desk, causing the wood to crack upon impact.

The revolver quickly dropped as you fled to the connecting door, escaping the place through the next room.

You run towards the front door, trying to push the handle, but it won't budge. You hear him coming, and jump to the side, narrowly escaping his hammer of rage as it punches through the door, sending the broken pieces everywhere.

"YOU COME BACK HERE!" His voice boomed through the house, and you could almost feel the floor shaking.

You dash to upstairs, and push your bedroom door open, before locking it just in time.

Still, it can't protect you from him.

You watch in horror as the door shakes and fills the room with the cracking sounds, before it flies open by force.

And there he is, standing at your door like a nightmare.

You can't do anything except running away from him, running to the corner where you'll certainly meet your demise.

And you lift your arms and brace for the impact. You can see the hammer coming to you from the corner of your eye, and you cry out when it strikes.

It's all silence, before a quiet sob falls from your mouth.

His hammer crashed on the wall, just an inch away from your head, showering you with dust and smashed fragments.

Your body slides down to the floor, as your legs give up. You continue to weep, while he lifts up the hammer, and tosses it to the ground.

"Are you done?" He retorted harshly, and you shrunk away from him.

He yanks your hand away, and throws you to the floor. You yelp when he sits on top of you, pushing your face down to the ground.

"Should I treat you badly so you'd learn to appreciate what I did for you?"

"You took my freedom away." You hissed through your tears, "You kept me in here so you could play me like a toy."

"But I took care of you, didn't I?" He growled, "I never asked you to clean the house, you didn't even have to cook for yourself. What more could you ask for?"

You flinch at his tone. You've seen him angry a few times, but never this angry.

"Do you want a toy of your own?" He asked, voice dripping with bitterness. Your eyes snap open, as the phantom pain throbs in your hip. "I can certainly give you one."

"No…" Your lips quivered as he slipped his fingers under your clothes, "No, no! Stop!"

You tried to kick him away, do anything to get away from this monstrous man.

"Get away from me!" You screamed at him, but he ignored you as he ripped your clothes off. "Please! I'm sorry—"

"It's too late for that, don't you think?" He laughed when you tried to crawl away, while he undid his belt.

You cry out when you feel the head of his cock poking against your core, before he slowly pushes it inside.

It was excruciating, as he stretched you open with a force. He groans as your walls clamp around his member, as if repelling him from entering.

He snakes his arm around your shoulders, as he pulls you close until his chest is flush against your back. A bitter tang of iron hits your nose, reminding you of your own mistake. He hisses when you grab him on the place near the wound.

"Don't think you can escape me, (Name)." He snaps his hip against you, and you throw your head back, eyes tightly shut. "Not even in your death."

You scream when he buries himself completely, stuffing himself to the hilt, until you feel yourself full.

The pain comes back to you, as you feel your core burning. He makes it worse by feeding it frictions, as he begins to pump himself in and out. He tosses his mask aside, before he marks you with his bites. He sinks his teeth onto your neck and shoulder, before he lifts you by your chin, and crashes his lips against yours.

It was bitter, full of teeth. His kiss tasted like rage, and the jealousy he held since your friend stole it from him.

You cough from the lack of air, and fall down on the floor. The mixed saliva in your mouth drips down to your chin, and he runs his thumb to wipe it off.

He bends down to kiss you once again, and you whimper when you find yourself growing wetter against your will. The resistance from your walls becomes lesser, and he can easily slide his member in.

"You know, Mäuse," He mused as his hips moved like a piston, "I'm only flesh and blood, but I can be a good father."

He keeps his arm around your body, as you struggle against him.

"I can buy you a big house, taking care of our little ones." He covers your mouth when you begin to voice your protests, "As long as you're with me."

Your hand starts to flail around, trying to hit his wound, but it's out of your reach.

"I'll make you my wife, and we'll live together as a couple." He said with a smile, but through your eyes, it was a madman's grin. "You just have to be good, and I'll treat you as such."

His cock brushes against the spot that made your moan, and he keeps hitting it until your back arches, as you turn limp in his arms.

He soon follows after you, as his cum spills into your womb, filling you up to the brim. You gasp when his arms tighten around you, as his cock twitches inside your core. A sense of dread hits you as you feel his cock doesn't get any softer.

"I think you'll make a great mother." You heard him murmur, before he pressed his lips against your temple.

#I have “writing dark fic is my coping mechanism” syndrome 👍#tw noncon #please read the warnings #dead dove do not eat #könig x reader #konig x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #konig cod #he might be a bit OOC but I do believe that he'd turn cocky when he's the person in the high rank #like what's social anxiety? I'm the captain here #*the colonel #whatever

337 notes · View notes

dragomfry · 6 months ago

Text

Discussion on Doumeki’s Current Treatment of Yashiro

(And what it means for the story’s mature themes + Tangent on Romance and BL as genres and how I interpret Saezuru)

This continues the conversation from @nanayashi-agenda’s reply. Thank you for replying, you’ve given me lots to think about. It seems my views on Doumeki’s treatment of Yashiro are similar to yours. Speaking to all: I’m always open to hearing the diverse opinions of others and broadening my own views, so please, keep giving your honest thoughts on the story and what it means to you. I think it’s wonderful that we can interpret this story in a multitude of ways; it’s what makes the story so compelling to me.

Disclaimer: I’m going to be very harsh on Doumeki in this post. In no way am I trying to take away from anyone’s enjoyment of the story, and if you interpret it differently than me, that’s cool! I’m just giving my opinions in this post, and we can agree or disagree. Please, if you’re sensitive to a harsh look at Doumeki’s actions or your reading of the story is more idealistic, I kindly suggest you move past this post. But if you’re open to a critical reading of Doumeki’s actions, this post has a ton of thoughts that I hope are interesting.

Just to be clear, I believe he’s a very well-written character, and I still like him. But he is very flawed, just like other characters. Even though I understand his actions, I don’t believe they are the most moral. Basically, this post analyzes and aims to understand the complicated why and how of Doumeki’s actions, and I give my opinions on them while being as understanding as possible.

TW for themes of sexual violence and abuse

Full disclosure: I am of the opinion that the first time they *made love was non-consensual and almost every sexual act Doumeki has made on Yashiro after the timeskip has been dub-con at best… and rape at worst.

I mentioned this before, but I think Yoneda-sensei is the only writer that can make me acknowledge the apparent toxicity of the relationship yet still have me actively wanting the characters to get married. Never before have I encountered a romance that is hindered by such realistic, unavoidable barriers and misunderstandings that it makes complete sense for both partners to act and feel in the controversial ways they do; therefore, the drama never feels unnecessary or gratuitous for the sake of the audience. Based on my interpretation, the slow burn and controversial drama exists because anything else to advance their relationship would be antithetical to their characters. And all while we understand the complex reasons for their actions, it seems Yoneda-sensei never attempts to romanticize the toxic behaviors, either. If there are any other stories or authors that do this, I wouldn’t mind some recommendations…

Sorry for the slightly related tangent in the next 4 paragraphs within the lines. You can just skip those if you want to jump right away into the topic of discussion. My thoughts overwhelm me a lot, too…

———————————————————————————

Ig there is quite a bit of context as to why I asked for your thoughts on this topic in the first place. This tangent is related to my general views about how I interpret Saezuru as a whole and what that means for this topic.

Let’s just say I was not all that interested in romance as a genre. I have nothing against romance (and I should probably read more of it to get a better idea on the genre as a whole), it’s just that I’ve always associated it with contemporary issues, not much conflict, and a predictable structure that typically ends happily with a stereotypically heterosexual couple getting together, which doesn’t interest me too much. Why read a romance when you already know how it ends? Rhetorical question, it’s the journey, but I like many of my journeys to have substantial bumps in it and at least some food for thought, yknow? Anyways, I didn’t think BL would interest me at all for a similar reason. Furthermore, I’ve heard many negative traits about the genre. That it romanticizes abuse, depicts gay people unrealistically, and is just gay porn with no substance. Also I heard rape was such a common backstory trope that it became banal… which is just awful to me, especially with how it mostly isn’t given the same sensitive treatment as I believe it is in Saezuru. Rape should never just be something to add to a story for worthless drama. With all this, it’s almost like BL would be anathema to me… until I found one that surprised me with its themes (which I’ll write a review for), and then found Saezuru. Saezuru is just different from the others (I sounded like Doumeki there, huh), and I believe it’s an anomaly in terms of the romance department and storytelling generally. I could quite literally talk about this series for hours and not get bored. Apologies, my blog is basically all those random thoughts… tl;dr: Saezuru seems to defy its genre conventions, critique them, or give a nuanced perspective on them, where others have failed to do so, which makes the story infinitely more interesting to me.

In terms of “ships,” I personally cannot ship anything unless there is substantial evidence in the canon to suggest the couple can exist realistically. Also, I try to look at characters as objectively as possible. I try to understand the characters for what they’re written as, not as my own interpretation or to reduce them to just a ship. This is why it’s so hard for me to read fan fiction. I can’t read or mentally accept stories of the characters when they don’t act like themselves.

So anyways, these views are why I can’t help but be critical of Doumeki’s actions and words towards Yashiro. I feel, in being able to view Doumeki as a sex offender and Yashiro as a victim, I can derive a more meaningful interpretation of Saezuru’s story and not have rose-tinted glasses when I pair the two together. I suppose we’ll have to see what Yoneda-sensei has in store for the ending to see if she really aligns with my interpretation of the story’s themes, but judging by how she’s managed to so delicately handle many of the controversial themes she presents (and how she clearly cares about her characters, how she handles rape, and how she wants to deliver a satisfying end to the story), I have reason to believe she could pull it off. I am cautiously optimistic.

Jeez I went overboard

———————————————————————————

After having binged all of Saezuru from chapters 1-58 in like a week, my thoughts were going haywire. The main thought on my mind though, was this: Why was Doumeki treating Yashiro so callously when he loves him and treated him so gently beforehand? Turns out, this is quite the loaded question, so I broke it down into 3 parts below.

I stumbled upon this old interview and was even more confused when I considered this quote from Yoneda-sensei:

When I was thinking about whom I should pair Yashiro with, this is the kind of character that turned out.

Doumeki is a character originating from Yashiro.

It's like he started functioning because Yashiro existed.

…So the two are literally made for each other, but now Doumeki is sexually abusing Yashiro? How can that be his ideal partner? Why can’t he just let the poor guy sleep??

Well, I reason that it’s because of the super complicated tangle of emotions and effects of the upbringings of Doumeki and Yashiro that this is their situation in the story. I also think Yoneda-sensei is giving some concrete commentary on rape culture.

I believe that Doumeki’s actions are based on a large mix of what you said.

Here are the questions I’m tackling:

Why does Doumeki treat Yashiro that way?

Why won’t Doumeki abide by Yashiro’s requests to not have sex?

Why hasn’t Doumeki questioned the morality of his actions?

1.) Why does Doumeki treat Yashiro that way?

The conversation with Nanahara and Doumeki’s takeaways are still very mysterious, but it’s undeniable that it influenced his views and behaviors towards Yashiro now. Sidenote: did we get to see Doumeki’s reply to Nanahara at the end of the extra yet?

I agree with your statement here:

he thinks that "kind" and gentle treatment is what made yashiro leave. doumeki's main concern now is not letting him "run away" again. […] and by that logic, cruelty and sex are the best tool

Adding on, I think there are 2 main reasons in Doumeki’s head that he uses to justify the cruelty and sex: 1.) Doumeki does not want to hurt Yashiro again by treating him gently because Yashiro perceived that as rape (which is a belief I will tackle later), and 2.) he still believes Yashiro hasn’t changed because of Yashiro’s words and his sleeping with Inami/other men. The second reason in itself, oh my, is another entire post on how the misunderstandings in Saezuru are actually realistic and compelling and not stupid for the sake of relationship drama, but I digress.

Ch. 43 (top) and ch. 46

Because “Yashiro hasn’t changed,” he still thinks Yashiro doesn’t like serious relationships. He still thinks Yashiro will only have sex with men who are rough and don’t care about him (Inami, Kido) because that’s Yashiro’s coping mechanism. So, to not hurt Yashiro with gentleness, to prevent other men from hurting him, to be as close as possible to him, to keep him from running away, and to appeal to his coping mechanism, he uses cruelty and sex.

It’s very backwards. Hurting to prevent hurt... Similarly, being hurt to prevent hurt…

Doumeki and Yashiro’s fortes. These two are the best worst match, truly.

I didn’t even mention the slut-shaming, but I believe that lies in his jealousy, possessiveness, and hurt from being tossed away mostly.

2.) Why won’t Doumeki abide by Yashiro’s requests to not have sex?

doumeki assumes with confidence what yashiro wants and needs, and then acts on those assumptions.

Agree. It doesn’t matter what Yashiro says he wants Doumeki to do or not to do, Doumeki will act the way he does so he “helps” Yashiro realize what he “actually wants and needs” because he thinks Yashiro isn’t capable of that.

To Doumeki, he thinks Yashiro wants what he says he doesn’t want. I believe this is what he realized on the rooftop with Nana.

It always puzzled me why Doumeki didn’t take into consideration that time Yashiro told him he got raped by his stepfather in his realization of… something… after Nana told him this. In ch. 4 we are aware that Doumeki knows about how Yashiro’s stepfather raped him (“This man went through the same things as my sister”), so surely he should have considered that part of his past’s effect on his twisted perception of sex??

But now, I think my interpretation—that Doumeki is acting deliberately against what Yashiro says he doesn’t want because, on the rooftop, Doumeki concluded that that’s what Yashiro actually wants—makes sense as to why that scene isn’t considered here, when it really should have been.

Upon this false realization, he is willing to ignore Yashiro’s protests for the purpose of getting him to realize what it is he desires. He’s forcing him to admit his feelings for him, so that he can accept love. He isn’t wrong that Yashiro is in love with him and has trouble accepting Doumeki’s love and realizing his own feelings of love, but that doesn’t mean he can choose when Yashiro should accept these feelings. That is Yashiro’s choice to make.

My thoughts are the same as yours here:

there's the well-meaning read on this of course, about how doumeki simply wants to protect yashiro from "other men", make sure he doesn't seek them out by satisfying his, as always assumed, needs. and sure, i won't deny that protectiveness is part of it. i don't think it amounts to much, though. this isn't how you help someone you love. nanahara compared yashiro having sex with men to smoking, and he's right. here's the thing: forcibly taking away someone's cigarettes (or "cigarettes", you know), disregarding their personal autonomy, shaming them for their habit and making them feel like shit without addressing the underlying issues doesn't really accomplish much. yashiro starts smoking immediately after doumeki leaves in ch 57, and seeks out inami and kido "despite" his needs supposedly being satisfied for a reason after all

I also read his actions as him partly trying to protect Yashiro from other men by satisfying his sexual desires, but I don’t condone this at all. You can’t sexually abuse someone you love because you think others will. And yes it is very telling how even though Doumeki is there to take away his “cigarettes,” Yashiro still “smokes.” Even though Yashiro’s body seems to enjoy all their sexual encounters, his mind knows there’s something wrong. He knows he doesn’t want sex with Doumeki in these instances, and Doumeki should have respected that.

It’s important to point out how rape victims can still have their bodies “enjoy” the sex, but they really don’t.

We saw this theme at the very start of the story in volume 2… It’s when Yashiro gets raped by his stepfather. His body enjoyed it, but we clearly know it is NOT what he wanted. There was both blood and cum depicted in those panels for a reason… And these contradictory feelings—the crux of Yashiro’s character—cause rape victims to feel worthless and guilty when it was NEVER their fault. This is EXACTLY what Yashiro was feeling at the end of ch. 57. Doumeki needs to realize this…

What makes his actions so messy and you can argue morally gray is that there has been progress, in terms of getting Yashiro to realize things about himself. But I don’t condone his actions and argue Yashiro could definitely have realized these things without the sex. I’m sure that even if Doumeki didn’t make love with Yashiro the first time, Yashiro could still realize and eventually accept that he wanted gentle affection through non-sexual acts. In fact, he was starting to, with liking and eventually loving Doumeki when he was impotent in the first place. Yashiro is perfectly capable of realizing his true wants and needs. To think that he isn’t, is a huge flaw. To think that rape victims can’t figure out what they really want by themselves makes you infantilize them, ignore their voice, and grossly disregard their autonomy. But because Doumeki escalated to sex that first time, and now his discovery of Yashiro’s impotence with others proves to him that he did something that changed Yashiro, he keeps using this same method… believing it will cause him to change again.

This could also explain why he asks about when Yashiro became impotent in ch. 56. He wants to see if Yashiro’s impotence with other men was his doing, so he can prove that he means something to Yashiro and that his current method of using sex has caused Yashiro to change, so that his actions weren’t worthless and he can absolve his own guilt.

most of his actions after the time skip revolve not around trying to understand yashiro, but rather trying to get him to say or admit what doumeki has already assumed

Again, I agree. It’s as you said, Doumeki is self-centered and thinks he knows best, and I’ll address this flaw in my answer to the last and imo most important question.

3.) Why hasn’t Doumeki questioned the morality of his actions?

Surely his actions should remind him of his father in some fucked up way? And surely this would mean that he should realize that and stop treating Yashiro so horribly?

I believe his persistence with the way he currently treats Yashiro stems from, besides the reasons said above, this false belief that he has yet to properly confront: that it wasn’t his fault for Yashiro to consider the time they made love as rape, it was Yashiro’s fault because of his trauma. What he fails to understand is that he actually did rape Yashiro, and it was his fault.

This false belief stems from how he wants to absolve himself of guilt.

he struggles to understand other people's feelings, and sometimes doesn't seem to even consider them in the first place

Yes, it seems this character flaw has been evident ever since we first saw it with Aoi. Because he is self-centered, he can’t understand the feelings of others nor consider them, and he feels guilty when that lack of understanding results in those he loves getting hurt. He then blames himself. It’s an uncomfortably realistic flaw… It’s too hard for him to accept being the one at fault. What’s most important is how he tries to deflect this guilt from himself. With Aoi, he couldn’t understand her crush on him and ignored her, and when he found out what his father was doing, he blamed himself for ignoring her all those years and became impotent. As a result, he vowed to never be like his father to absolve his guilt. This way of absolving his guilt plays directly into how he views and treats Yashiro now.

With Yashiro, he wanted to express his love to him by having sex, but Yashiro never consented to it and was traumatized by both the non consensual aspect and the realization that he never liked cruel treatment to begin with. It broke Yashiro, and Doumeki felt horribly guilty for that. But Doumeki only considers the latter aspect and not the first. The first is too hard to accept for him. It would mean he is like his father, that all his efforts to prevent becoming like his father were for naught, that he is trash who’s barely worth living. But…

…after ch 25, after the damage is already done, but there is still hope for the answer to "am i like my father?" to be "no" (i hope i don't need to say what that question actually stands for, what doumeki actually asks in ch 32, and why it matters that yashiro takes note of it but doesn't answer one way or another).

You refer to this part of ch. 32?

I see what you mean, with not wanting to point out the question. Yes, what Doumeki implicitly asks here is the uncomfortable question, the question both of them already know the answer to. It’s the ugly truth.

“Did I rape you?”

“Yes.”

But Yashiro didn’t answer.

Both of them are willingly denying something here, and these are both of the things I believe they must accept in the end. They must accept these facts in order to truly heal and, if Yashiro wishes, develop a stable romantic relationship between them. Doumeki must come to terms with the fact that he is like his father in that way, and Yashiro must come to terms with the fact that he is a victim.

Even after these dark realizations that they can’t yet accept, this scene occurs…

They just can’t help but want the other.

God. They’re so fucked up…

———————————————————————————

In the end, I reallyyyyyy hope we see this side of Doumeki again. I really want him to wholeheartedly apologize in the end and make up for the wrong things he did. I really want him to forgive himself enough to start properly loving Yashiro. And when Doumeki accepts this, I want Yashiro to slap the shit out of him.

*When I refer to the time they made love, I mean chapter 24/25. I use this term rather than “have sex” because it was emotionally deeper than the more clinical approach Doumeki is taking now. This article explains why I chose the term “make love” and makes the distinction between making love and having sex, while also acknowledging the two terms’ changing connotations. I used the phrase “make love” to simplify the term “emotionally connected sex” and apply the positive connotation, without disregarding the non consensual aspect of the moment.

33 notes · View notes

call-me-medusa · 5 months ago

Text

fic: Was I even on your way? [911, buddie]

3K | M | ao3

A soft knock starts on the door. “Buck?” It’s Eddie. Of course it’s Eddie. “Are you feeling okay?” Buck feels like he’s going to throw up. “No.” “Can I come in?” Buck closes his eyes. He tries to take another deep breath, trying to remind himself he’s in Eddie’s bathroom, in Eddie’s house, probably the safest place he’s ever been in L.A, and that he’s not in an office trying to talk about a kid’s death. He scoots closer to the toilet, resting his back on the edge of the tub, “Yeah.”

Or, Buck gets reminded of something that happened he'd rather forget.

Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, (Buck talking about what happened with Dr. Wells years later), POV Evan "Buck" Buckley, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Diaz Loves Evan "Buck" Buckley, Worried Eddie Diaz, Not Beta Read

TW: Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fic #my 9-1-1 fic #rangerdanger ao3 #my 911 posts #my ao3 #sa tw

31 notes · View notes

dixonsdarkelf · 9 months ago

Text

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter One

Main masterlist Series masterlist AO3 link Wattpad link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted SA, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, dixonsdarkelf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--blood, violence, amputation, swearing

“Lydia Rae Vector, Board-Certified in Trauma Surgery!”

The grin that spread across my face caused my cheeks to ache. I looked out and saw my parents and brothers, who fought like hell for their front-row seats to witness their only daughter and sister receive her certification. This was the moment I had worked my entire life for.

My residency was complete. And my boards had been passed. I was officially a surgeon.

The “waterproof” mascara I had spent my last $20 on ran and flaked into my eye, causing it to water more. I take my certificate from the officiator, shake his hand, and look out to the audience once again.

And I see him. Every single time, I see him.

A man stumbling down the center aisle, appearing drunk and disorderly, but he’s covered in blood, and his skin is bluish-grey. Decomposition has clearly already started. That was evident by both the open wounds on his body and the putrid stench that accompanied him. And the rest always happens the exact same way.

The crowd notices him, and slowly, the entire auditorium falls silent. Security starts to come around from the emergency exits, but before they can get to him, the man has made his way to the front row.

And he attacks my mother.

Her screams, the screams of my father and brothers, the screams of the audience and the screams coming from my own throat haunt me. He rips her vocal cords out with one swift bite, and her screams cease as quickly as they began.

And this is always where my nightmare ends.

I wake up in a cold sweat, nothing unusual there. I throw myself upwards, letting out a small yelp and feeling all over myself with my hands, checking for wounds and blood. My mornings went exactly the same way.

Every. single. time.

The small shed I had spent the night in looked even dustier during the day. I used my hands to prop myself up off of the floor and and pulled my backpack, which was my pillow every night, out from behind me. Scooting slightly to my left to get out of the blinding sun coming in through the window, I unzipped it and went through the checklist that I always do, making sure every weapon I had was still in its place.

“Axe, knife, guns, spear,” I said out loud, pulling one of the small guns and the collapsible spear out and setting them on the ground next to me. Checking that the safety was still on for both guns, I checked for my other items. Nothing had ever been stolen from me in the night, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“Journal, water bottle, clothes, food, tools, gauze, lighter, bandages, disinfectant, sewing kit, pills, and my most unique weapon.” Once everything was accounted for, I took the blanket I had been using and folded it as best as I could, stuffing it in on top of everything. I slipped my water bottle out and took the smallest sip, just enough to get rid of my cotton mouth and dry throat. I slipped the gun I left on the floor into the strap on my leg and extended my spear, getting up off of the ground and dusting myself off.

I paused for a moment and listened to the birds chirping outside. I wonder what they were saying to each other, I thought to myself. They seem happy. Of course they did. They don’t have to live through the end of the world in the same way humans do.

My reveling in listening to bird calls was quickly interrupted by the sound of a scream. A human scream. And Walker groans.

I swung my backpack onto my shoulders and jumped to the corner next to the door. I lifted my head slowly, just enough for my eyes to enter the window frame.

There was a man, probably around my age, on the ground, and three Walkers surrounding him. I could see that he had lost his knife in the scuffle, and I imagine he was hesitant to use a gun because he didn’t want to attract more of the reanimated corpses. I readied my spear, took a deep breath, and kicked the door open in one fell swoop.

“Aye motherfuckers!” I yelled, drawing the attention of all three Walkers towards me. I skipped backwards, away from the man, putting a little more distance between myself & the undead. I swung my spear and stabbed the closest one right between the eyes, pulling it out and watching the heap fall to the ground. The other two went down similarly. I paused for a moment, perking up my ears and listening to make sure no others were coming.

Once it was clear, I ran to the man. He was still on the ground, groaning in pain. That’s when I saw the bite on his ankle. My heart sank. But I knew what I needed to do. I ran and kneeled down next to him.

“Hey, what’s your name man?” I said to him, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. I saw a small glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“A-A-Aaron,” he said, gritting his teeth through the pain.

“Alright Aaron, my name is Vector. I’m a doctor, and I can save you, but we gotta get you inside that shed right there. Can you sit up?” He nodded and used his arms to pull himself into a sitting position. I got up on my feet and put an arm around his back, under his arms.

“Alright Aaron, let’s get you on your feet,” I told him, and I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. He put his body weight onto his right foot & onto me, and we slowly stood up together. Thankfully, the shed was right by us. I got him through the door and helped him back down onto the floor. Once he was on his back, I moved like lightning to get out my small axe, disinfectant, lighter, bandages, gauze, and two of my shirts, one with long sleeves and a small one.

“Aaron, you probably know where this is going, but I’m going to have to cut your foot off. And then I’m going to cauterize your wound so it hopefully won’t get infected,” I said between inhales, taking the my smaller shirt and tying it into a knot to form a gag. We couldn’t have him attracting any more Walkers. “I need you to take this and bite down as hard as you can. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes…” Aaron said. I saw a couple of tears leave his eyes. He put the knotted shirt into his mouth, laying his head back onto the dirty floor. I poured a small amount of disinfectant onto my axe and onto his leg, just above the bite mark. Some of the disinfectant ran into the wound, and he writhed in pain.

“Alright.” I looked over at him, meeting his eyes, “I need you to stay completely still. Bite down as hard as you possibly can. You got this my man.” He squeezed his eyes shut. I raised the axe up, lining it up with where I was going to make my mark.

“I’m so sorry Aaron,” I whispered, swinging the axe down as hard as I could. Thankfully, his foot and ankle came off with one hit. His blood sprayed across the shed, getting onto the walls and all over both of us.

Despite the muffling of the shirt, his screaming was loud. The tears were flowing. And so was the blood. I grabbed my lighter with my right hand and grabbed Aaron’s hand with my left one, squeezing it to remind him he wasn’t alone.

“I’m going to cauterize it next. This pain is probably going to be worse, but I know you can do this. Just keep breathing through your nose and squeeze my hand when you need to,” I told him. He didn’t nod or acknowledge what I said in any way, but I had to keep moving to stop the bleeding. I flicked on my lighter and held it to his open wound, gliding it back and forth across the whole area. I did this for a couple of minutes to ensure the whole area had been cauterized. For Aaron, I’m sure it felt like hours. He squeezed my hand so hard that I was sure he was going to break it. His muffled screams were the only sound I heard.

“You’re doing great bud,” I spoke softly, “I have padding and gauze that I’m going to put onto it next, then I’m going to wrap it in one of my shirts. Keep biting onto that one for as long as you need.” This time, he opened his eyes, which were bright red from crying, and nodded. I took a couple of pads and pressed them to his leg, holding them in place while I started the gauze wrapping.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an ice pack or anything to help with the burning,” I said. He spat my shirt onto the ground and let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry? You just saved my life.” I took my long-sleeved plaid button-up and wrapped his leg in it, using the sleeves to tie it around his calf. He was still hyperventilating a little.

“Just rest for right now,” I instructed, “once you’re doing a little better, I’ll help you get back to your home base.” He tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, but I lightly pressed on his shoulders to let him know to lay back down, “Stay like that. Just focus on your breathing. I have some water, and I have food if you’re hungry.”

“What did you say your name was?” he asked me. I pulled my water bottle, which was about half-full, out of my bag.

“Vector,” I repeated. I scooted over to him and helped him lift his head enough to sip some water without choking on it. I took my knotted shirt and unknotted it, giving to him to wipe the tears and water off of his face. He rotated his head and looked up at me.

“Vector, why did you help me?” he asked, “you could’ve just killed me, saved your resources. Or taken my stuff and ran.” I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I took an oath,” I explained, “I’m a doctor. This is what I do.”

“How can I—“ a cough stopped him mid-sentence, “repay you? I can get you food, water, supplies. I have a community. Just say the word and whatever you want is yours.” I leaned back and grabbed my spear, which I had dropped on the way in, and collapsed it fully, rolling back and forth on the floor between my hands.

“Honestly, I could just use directions to a certain place, I must be close to it by now. I’m looking for a safe zone, it’s called—“

“Alexandria.”

I cocked my head at him, my words catching in my mouth and my facial expression displaying my shock. “How did you know that?”

“It’s the only one around here. We’re only a couple miles out” he laughed. Despite my protests earlier, he used his upper body to pull himself up into a sitting position, leaning back against some boxes, “I’m actually from there. I’m a recruiter. I go out with my partner Eric, and we search for survivors, like yourself, and see who would make useful additions to our community. And hell, we could definitely use you.”

I couldn’t believe my luck.

“I’ve been looking for Alexandria for months.”

34 notes · View notes

the-delta-42 · 1 month ago

Text

The Walking Dead Game What Ifs Master List

Reunions - What if Marlon & Brody survived and Clementine & AJ went back to Richmond? - 3 Parts - Complete

Between Reunions - the Ten Years between the start of Gabe and Clementine's relationship and Gabe's death - In progress

Jesse - What If Clementine had an Older Brother? - 4 Parts - WIP

Long Road Ahead - What if the whole Motel Group survived to the Final Season? - 4 Parts - In Progress

In the Pines - What if the whole Cabin Group survived to the Final Season? - 3 Parts - Planned

Big Brother - What if Luke was part of the Motel Group? - 3 Parts - Complete

Garcia - What if the Garcia's survived to the Final Season? - 2 Parts - Planned

Kids - What if all the Kids Survived to the Final Season? - 4 Parts - Planned

Everetts - What if Lee and Carley survived to The Final Season - 4 Parts - Planned

Sister - What if Sarah Survived to the Final Season? - 3 Parts - Planned

Duck - What if Duck Survived to the Final Season? - 4 Parts - Planned

Survivor - What if Lee survived to the Final Season? - 4 Parts - Planned

Rebecca - What if Rebecca survived to the Final Season? - 3 Parts - Planned

Bobby - What if Lee had a son? - 4 Parts - Planned

Kenny - What if Kenny survived to the Final Season - 2 Parts - Planned

Revenge - What if AJ died in The Final Season?

Kindness - What if Carver was a good guy?

Road Trip - What if the Motel group left the Motor Inn earlier? Prompt Submitted by @thecrusadercomrade on AO3

My Sunshine - What if AJ got bit instead of Clementine?

Take Us Back - What if Clementine died at the end of The Final Season?

Taken - What if all of the Ericson’s survivors were captured? TW: Implied/Referenced Torture and Rape/Non-Con.

Bruised - What if Carver attacked Clementine at the cabin?

Found - What if Kenny was leading Delta?

Hurt - What if Troy assaulted Clementine in the Comic Book Store? (TW: Implied/Refenced Rape/Non-Con)

Provisions - What if The Stranger joined the Motel Group?

Restoration - What if the Communities re-founded the USA?

Settle the Score - What if the New Frontier stole from the Saviors?

Captured - What if the Bandits captured the Motel group? Prompt submitted by BetterThanBrainiac on AO3 (TW: Rape/Non-Con, somewhat Graphic Violence and homophobic language)

Truth - What if Jane didn’t lie to Kenny and Clementine about AJ?

Protector - What if Kenny was Bitten instead of Duck? Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Paradise - What if Kenny, Clementine and AJ ended up in Alexandria? Submitted by Soundwavefan113

School - What if Lilly was the leader of the Boarding School? Submitted by Mr_Giancarlo on AO3

Bitten - What if Clementine got bit in the shed?

A Second Opinion - What if Carver had another doctor?

Ericson - What if the Cabin group found Ericson’s instead of the Ski Lodge? Prompt Submitted by Worker72 on AO3

Redemption - What if AJ wasn’t at McCarroll Ranch? Prompt Submitted by TheKnowitAll2008 on AO3

Outed - What if Lee’s past was exposed to everyone by Larry? Prompt Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Nurture - What if Katjaa got bit instead of Duck? Prompt Submitted by Spectacular Webhead 11 on FF.net

We lucky few - What if Lee, Lilly, Duck, and Clem were the only survivors of the St Johns? Prompt Submitted by BetterThanBrainiac on AO3

Child - What if Clementine found out AJ was at McCarroll Ranch before she met Javi? Prompt Submitted by Worker72 on AO3

Karma - What if Howes fell before Carver returned from the ski lodge? Prompt Submitted by Worker72 on AO3

Surviving Parent - What if Clementine’s Mother survived? Prompt Submitted by Worker72 on AO3

Nightmare - What if Clementine decided to kill all the Cabin Group members? Prompt Submitted by BetterThanBrainiac on AO3

Survive - What if Carver shot Clementine instead of Walter at the lodge? Prompt Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Trigger - What if Nick shot Clementine? Prompt Submitted by Guest on FF.net

Switch - What if Clementine died instead of Sarah? Prompt Submitted by SaltyStar_28 on AO3

Losses - What if St Johns succeeded in capturing and eating the Motel survivors? Prompt Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Negan - What if Clementine & AJ joined the Saviors instead of the New Frontier? Prompt Submitted by Spectacular Webhead 11 on FF.net

Carry On - What if the Motel Group went to Ericson's? Prompt Submitted by CRed1988 on FF.Net

Regret - What if Clementine left with Bonnie, Mike and Arvo? Submitted by @kiquedelic on Tumblr

Plot Twist - What if Molly was the Stranger? Prompt Submitted by BetterThanBrainiac on AO3

Parents - What if Clementine’s Parents were at home? Prompt submitted by Cred1988 on FF .net

Forged in Fire - What if Ben survived getting impaled? Prompt Submitted by TicciTomboy0 on AO3

Bit - What if Duck was bitten at the Pharmacy? Prompt Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Warning - What if Ben warned the Group about the bandits? Prompt Submitted by Darkwubs on AO3

Terminus - What if the Cabin group found Terminus? Prompt Submitted FilipBalogh on AO3 Author’s Note: The submitter has added the stipulation that Terminus didn’t resort to cannibalism.

Safe and Sound - What if the Motel and the Cabin Groups survived to TFS?

Compassion - What if Clementine saved Lilly and Minerva? Prompt issued by @buffboybucko and @rain-arrow09 on Tumblr

Boys - What if Louis and Aasim were traded instead of the twins?

Divided - What if Carver stopped the Cabin group’s second escape plan?

Savior - What if Negan was part of the Motel Group?

Ironic - What if Clementine and Kenny found the prison?

Witness - What if Brody survived?

What Price a Friend? - What if Javi died in ANF?

Military - What if the army settled at the Motel with the Motel Group?

Confrontation - What if Lee’s Ex-Wife was at the Pharmacy?

Split Second Decision - What if Clementine shot Nick?

Stay - What if Clementine wasn’t kicked out of the New Frontier?

Mafia - What if Lee was a Mobster instead of a Murderer?

Shock - What if Clementine’s parents were at Ericson’s? Inspired by TheCrusaderKing/@thecrusadercomrade on AO3 TW: Mentions of past rape/non-con

#the walking dead game #twdg #TWDG What Ifs #Master List #twdg clementine #twdg luke #lee everett #javier garcia #javi garcia #twdg alvin jr #twdg aj #twdg kenny #clementine

13 notes · View notes