#eye squick cw

[survivoirs]

The Corinthian's left eye closes its teeth on Dream's hand without warning, like a venus flytrap snapping shut.

[ look. if your hand goes near him that's just how it is.]

Lightly taking a hold of the Nightmare's jaw had seemingly been a less than stellar idea by how Dream's index finger of his right hand had been just a bit too close to The Corinthian's left eye. The bite wasn't enough to truly harm him but the pressure wasn't without pain and there would be some extensive teeth indentations. The Endless steeled their expression, showing no sign that their nightmare was hurting them at all even though he was.

Instead of fighting or yelping in pain. Instead of pulling away, Morpehus curled his index finger downwards and used it to tighten his grip around the Nightmare's jaw. With a firm tug, the Dreamlord pulled The Corinthian closer to him, tugging his jaw down to make the dream meet his gaze with his remaining ocular mouth.

"Is this how you treat the very hand that crafted those eyes for you?" He asked with a hum, free hand jutting to where the Nightmare kept his knife and gripped over the handle atop his layers of clothing so it was difficult to retrieve.

"Poor Little Dream. Finally has my complete attention and he does not know what to do with it."

[otherpeoplescreativity]

Using a game to make character portraits

I think I'm fixin' to start a side issue fight.

Sorry?

Anyway, below the ReadMore is going to be some carefully chosen screencaps of supersuit-type characters from City of Heroes: Homecoming. I'm establishing a Theme and then starting a constructive criticism of my own designs within that Theme.

If you want to instead decry my lack of artistry in using a video game's character designer, and perhaps compare to using Artbreeder, you are valid! and I probably won't change my ways no matter how impassioned your point.

In our ttrpg, Our Heroes have moved up very close to the point of the story where they are likely to face a mid-level Combat Challenge.

The "Theme" of the Supergroup is the kind of investigative superhero who may wear a trenchcoat. Their powers and approach tend toward the sneaky, the indirect, the contemplative. These are definitely not "FREEEEEM first and ask questions later" types.

They have spent six sessions facing People vs Puzzle challenges, either by having noncombat encounters with witnesses (and each other!) or by using their current knowledge to track down another Strange Device Probably Left Here By Unknown Supervillain. They have only just now gotten involved enough that Supervillain might notice something's up, and detail a few lower-level Minions to go tidy the edges.

The "Theme" of the coming mid-level Villain Minion Squad therefore cannot be combat heavies! The Minions should be dangerous, but solvable by the same indirect and sneaky and trenchcoat-wearing tactics.

All of the Minions for this group are expected to wear "crimson jumpsuits". Some have more pockets. Some have modified the sleeves. Some have underlayers.

All have superpowers.

I took some "crowd control" characters that I used to play in City of Villains, whose costumes I had saved before shutdown in 2012, and used them in Homecoming to pose for some character portraits. Here's what I have so far:

I don't know why Pichana's picture is uploading like this, all the way over to the left. Anyway this guy has already been captured by the Heroes. Part of what the rest of the Villain Minion Squad should do is to try to find out what happened to him. Not that they necessarily want him back!

I do not like the shiny red boots, they don't match the description I wrote out for the character. But nothing in the game DOES match. And I have absolutely no graphic arts skills to modify.

Anyway, I have established the basics of the Theme: no obvious electronics. Personal styling mostly happens in the accessories. The available resources for these "work uniforms" include decent quality fits, because this tall thin man does not have his pants riding up his calves or his sleeves "pushed up" to suggest the off-the-rack feel of something too short for his dimensions.

Not a lot of armor. For only the one guy, that might be happenstance. Maybe he was not expected to encounter heroes. Maybe his own team would rather he succumb if they have to practice aggressive attitude adjustment.

Here is one of the crowd control specialists. I have not settled on a name for her yet; let's call her "Verse" for the moment.

Verse is obviously going to have fire-related abilities. (That is what she WANTS you to think!)

She does not have much in the way of pockets or belt pouches on this crimson jumpsuit. I want to give careful thinkers the idea that maybe her manager does not trust her with gear.

Verse also has deep red scars that show up splendidly on her pale peach skin. If her power were not actively building up in preparation for use, one might also note that her eyes are white all over -- no visible iris coloration.

Again this person's clothing is not baggy or super snug. A clothing connoisseur will have a chance of noticing that every one of these Minions has their clothing tailored to suit their bodies, if not their preferences.

Verse does not have upper body protection at all. She does have those fingerless gloves to improve her grip or to protect her palms. She has some kind of shinguard in place on both legs, mostly protecting the upper two thirds of the shin, but her boots are flat-soled ankle boots.

Verse also has black leather straps wrapped around her upper thighs, attaching to the red leather waist belt at about the points of her pelvic bones. Does Verse sometimes go parachuting? Is she partway geared up to wear a rocketpack? That is a deliberate style choice that will hopefully get the Trenchcoat Brigade speculating.

This last fellow is going to need two images to show what I was doing with his design:

This one also needs a better name. Back in the Rogue Isles, the original Corrupter character was named "Grigaere". I do not think this version is going to suit the original gregarious Black Forest of Germany story, but I will refer to him as "Grigaere" for now anyway.

Grigaere has energy blast powers, but they look like beams of darkness. (Grigaere was a Dark Blast/Pain Dominator Corruptor, for those familiar with the City of Villains stuff.)

I am not delighted with how his full-length portrait turned out, because I could not get the camera close enough without cutting off part of him:

There is a lot about this costume that I think I could have done better, to the point that I am not sure which bit to tackle first. I picked the slightly looser fit of trousers and jacket sleeves because I do not want most of the characters to look like they have to be peeled out of their supersuits. I picked the motorcycle boots to give the character an impression of stolidity in combat: once Grigaere chooses his location, he anchors himself in place and starts doing ranged attacks.

His belt has several small pouches attacked all around it. He has something-or-other along as equipment, but it is exclusively items of palm size or smaller; there is no pocket where he could store a cellphone, for example, or a wrench and screwdriver. This may be a specialist but this is not a mechanic. He is not expected to do any manual tasks that could get messy, those sleeves would get stained and damaged, and maybe put his safety at risk.

Right now I have one "crowd control" type, and one "ranged attack" type. The entire Villain Minion Squad would be expected to notice enemies at a range of more than half a room away. They would be expected to hem those enemies into place, then do ranged damage to quickly knock all resistance into unconsciousness or compliance.

I really do need to convert three more members of the team, at least one of whom will be mostly team defense. But if I can't figure out what is wrong with Grigaere's outfit, how to make it look more aesthetically suitable to the Theme and also more believable as Minion What Does Sometimes Fight For Evil, I am stumped on how to move forward at all.

Can I keep the loose fit on Grigaere? Or does that need to go?

[cleolinda]

Content note: discussion of injury! Nothing gory, nothing broken, no blood.

Bless my nephew’s baby heart—he is six and also an MCU fan, so when my sister spent the last week prepping him for how gnarly my face looks, he thought “Aunt [Cleo] has a black eye” meant I had LOST AN EYE, Thor-style. Honestly, anything would be pretty chill compared to that.

We have small family dinners where my sister’s crew comes over on Sundays, so he hadn’t seen me in a week. And I fell down the deck steps last Monday (a week ago today). In the middle of dinner, long after we had discussed all of this, he turns to me and cheerfully says, “You look terrible, [Cleo]. I love you.” He has multiple special needs, including very hyper ADHD, but he is also the sweetest little super-empathetic boy. “I hope you feel better soon,” he told me when I hugged him goodbye.

I still look like roadkill. Most of the swelling on my face has gone down, but my cheekbone is a hard lumpy knot to the touch. My cheek is chartreuse; there’s some mulberry bruising around my eye—

—and most of the bruising, in the weird way of bruising, “drained” all the way down to my jaw. I didn’t do shit to my jaw but it looks the most horrible. Just, like, indigo. Still got a cut over my lip. And yet, I’d still sally out to LensCrafters for new glasses, except that my cheek is too swollen to try on frames. So, another week of blurry squinting. Yay.

I will not detail how fucked up my left leg is. Just believe that it is. The right leg looks bad but it doesn’t hurt. My right arm is a little gnarly but it’s coming along well. Arnica gel has helped the bruising disperse, although you can also use diluted vinegar to break it up.

I didn’t hit my nose per se (hashtag blessed), but my sense of smell is, let’s say, compromised, between the dregs of a head cold and the bruising. So I HAVE new perfume samples, but I’m not sure any impressions of them would be accurate right now.

I was looking over my old Dracula tweet threads, but it’s a bit hard with the squinting. Significant amounts of reading are right out until I get new glasses, which may be this weekend.

Typing isn’t too bad (as you see), particularly on my phone, which I can peer more closely at. Bottom line, this fucking sucks, but we persevere.

[ooops-i-arted]

The sun was in my eyes so I did NOT realize what this great horned owl's eyes looked like and was in for a big surprise when I went through my pictures later

At Niabi Zoo

[oculusxcaro]

That feel when I'm getting some replies banged out today but I also have a mad urge to draw the body horror. ✨

[quitecontrarytv]

undefined

nothing gets me like ramping up the tension right after getting lost in the vibes of solving a puzzle lol

catch me live on twitch // VODs on youtube // polychrome youtube

[ghostwriterofthemachine]

A Quick Guide to AO3 Ratings

This is floating around on a few discord servers I am in but my friend requested a tumblr post version of it so ask and ye shall receive, ect.

G: Movie rating G/PG. You could read this out loud to your mother and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Everything that happens could comfortably take place in a primetime sitcom or a Pixar movie.

T: Movie rating PG-13. A CW show. Might deal with more adult themes, but deals with them in a way that wouldn’t seem out of place in something like Teen Wolf or The Flash. Something with a decently described fist fight would probably be T. Something which includes a heavier topic in a non-explicit way, such as a character talking about/experiencing depression, or off-screen abuse, could be safely rated Teen. Implied sex, or sexual humor, probably also makes something rated Teen— again, think CW show. You could also rate something Teen for really, really excessive swearing I guess.

M: Rated R/some NC-17. Deals explicitly and extensively with with heavier topics, or deals with sexual themes without portraying explicit sex. Might engage with commonly sensitive subject matter like suicide, murder, rape, or abuse in a major way. On the flip side, something which focuses a lot on sexual themes but fades to black before the Deed is Done would be rated M. Would this be on an HBO or Stars show instead of on primetime TV? It’s M. Note: many fic-sharing forums/discords will allow general sharing of fics rated M for violence but not those rated M for sexual content, but always double check with mods.

E: Rated X. Has explicit sexual content, or violence and gore on the level of an exploitation horror movie. Said violence and gore are dealt with in detail and often intentionally disturbing. You can also toss many Dead Dove tag fic here; a lot of people will rate more known-squick content (graphic cannibalism, for instance) as E so people can be prepared for it/avoid it as they wish.

[siren-sashimi]

NSFW Alphabet with Jonathan Crane Headcanon list; [Nolanverse!Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow x reader]

Contents and warnings: Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow is a villainous character with a not so nice personality, so please keep in mind that the content ahead can get dark and uncomfortable. The reader is mostly gender neutral, ocassional afab specific sex practices, Anal sex, Unhealthy relationship, psychological powerplay, emotional dominance, dubcon/noncon, degradation, pregnancy scare, slight sexist language, stalking, threesome fantasy, brief mention of lactation kink, intrusion of privacy, drugs, undermining of autonomy, role play If you’re sensitive to, squicked out, or triggered by any of those contents, these contents generally being unsuitable for your emotional well-being and/or age, please do not read any further! You have been warned!

➸ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) If you're a hookup, Jonathan is a deluxe jerk. Rolls off, showers, is surprised why you're still here. Get out, he has work tomorrow (or terrorizing Gotham in the next half hour, if he has the energy left).Even if he's smitten by you/at the beginning of a relationship with him, the best you can hope for is an post-coital smoke. And then he pushes you off the bed.

In an established relationship, Jonathan can and will do better. While still needing to learn thinking of anyone but himself, he will quickly wash up, the let you cuddle. After care will be more a clinical routine but when he notices how shaken you are after especially rough sessions, his voice will get lower and cooing, kissing your temple.

➸B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Bullying left Jonathan still a bit uneasy with his body. He does engage so much with intellectual activities, mostly engages in fitness mainly because because that's the medically correct thing for a healthy mind. But he prefers thinking more of a neat appearance rather than his body per se. By times he thinks he needs to gain some mass, or is extra picky with his suits, wanting to look more proportionate. He guesses he likes that his face turned out handsome. At least quiet a lot people who flirt with him compliment him for it. His hair isn't too bad either, at least a cut can give it a good shape.

For Jonathan's partner: Their eyes and neck. So much can be read fromthe eyes, the gate to the soul. Excitement, judgement, happiness, interest, calm, sleepiness, unease... fright, or adoration. Neck because he can grip it during sex or put on some cute collars or necklaces as gifts for you.

➸ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) As we spoke of necklaces, Jonathan likes you wearing pearl necklaces~ When he cums on you, you still licking up the rest of the cum, that makes you look like the perfect little sub always eager to get all of their dom they can. His cum tasted a bit metallic, it can run thin when his workload gets too much. Prepare some fruits for him as daily snacks, it will automatically improve the taste and consistency.

Likewise he loves, loves licking you clean when you came. You're his, all his, so he can keep your taste a bit more on his tongue.

CW for mindgames during sex, prenancy scare, unprotected sex, dubcon Whereas not really into the idea of becoming a father, Jonathan loves to sometimes threat-play that he's going to knock you up, speaking out fantasies of the milk he would lick off from your titts, how daddy will make you a pretty mommy. He only does that when he didn't put on a condom because the uncertainty of any accident makes you nervous. Only actually cums in you when you're on your period, birth control, or when doing anal.

Doesn't mind you cumming on him, prefers cum on his thigh if you, desperate for his attention, rubbed yourself on him. Cumming on his chest is good as well.

➸ D = Dirty secret Fantasizes about many taboo scenarios with you: You if you were his college student begging to not fail classes. Non-consensual scenarios if you were strangers (especially with Jonathan as a superior abusing his power). You too drugged to disagree. You falling in love with the Scarecrow whereas you're clueless about his secret identity and you'd fall in love with both. Hey, why not fantasize about you in the middle of Jonathan and the Scarecrow? Oh, what about him taking you against your will in the Scarecrow outfit, without you knowing that it's him? Many ideas he can safely channel into role plays, making it all a little exciting.

Also loves the idea to have you in full sub lifestyle. Actually doesn't follow through because Jonathan wants more from a relationship than sex. Some one he can have intellectual debates with, engage in common activities. But the idea of putting you in skimpy clothing in your home, ready and needy whenever he feels like dominating...

At some point he coherces/subtly directs you to buy clothing and lingerie he likes to see you wearing.

➸ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Moderate to advanced. Probably Jonathan wasn't exactly everyone's favourite guy in college either but away from bullies, away from a repressive, strictly religious childhood home, out of his ugly little duckling transformation, it was the time to experiment. Well, how wouldn't the guy on top of the class, slight arrogant attitude with that face, and these eyes getting his fair share? Since his arrogance and inconsideration cause either freeze or fight in another person, Jonathan is more used to little reissistance by his partner. Whereas he does love submissive partners in bed, in a relationship he needs to get told about as well as used to his partner's demands. Also needs the intellectual stimulant to deal with disagreement, and the normalcy of domestic life.

➸ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) (Anything where you're helplessly bondaged.) Doggy style is nice because he can go deep, maybe pull his partner upright in his lap for them to do the work. Legs bent above his partner's head to reach even deeper. As counterintuitive as it sounds, Jonathan enjoys going down on their partner, mostly them laying half upright, relaxing under his tongue. Another thing he's proud about being good at. By times likes when his partner does anal on him. Likes to be taken from behind , the rest is a bit irrelevant.

➸ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Jonathan doesn't have a single humorous bone in his entire body, even less so during sex. You getting cheeky it is just the perfect opportunity to discipline you later.

➸ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) At most Jonathan shaves is his balls, a little bit of the area around his genitals for better blowjobs. Sine he grooms himself according to his high social status, he does the same to his nether regions. The hair down there is more curly but due to the grooming perfectly soft. Some hairs are auburn between the dark brown ones.

➸ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Took a bit of work to get there although love making isn't too rare with Jon. After all, he went through a terrible childhood deprived of affection, kindness and safety. A romantic relationship is a compensation for Jonathan. Someone he can get hugged by, pampered a bit, give affection to and receive affection from, a place, a person who will mean comfort and a structured life. When he means to earnestly cultivate a relationship with his partner he really wants them and himself to commit to a shared intimacy none else can get from the other. Even during rougher sessions, Jonathan likes to keep eye contact, for checking, observing, examining how his partner reacts. Even kisses your temple, liking to assure you that he knows best how to take care of you. In a long term relationships, cuddling after sex can get sweet without being saccharine. Jonathan will then cradle you, running his fingers through your hair, and likes to exchange some sweet little nothings. Likes when you massage his scalp. Even such a clever, ever curious brain needs some relaxation.

➸ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Not kidding, jacks off when celebrating something important in his life. Got his PhD title? Indulgent jack-off sesssion. Scored a date with someone he really desires? Indulgent jack-off session. Payraise? Jacking off. On casual weeks, when not in a relationship he does it maybe once or twice, mostly out of habit.

In a relationship, when he either feels like it or wakes up with a boner, Jonathan just grabs you. Why do it himself if you're right there? When you're out of town or reach for a while, he will repress the urge but get you to do phone sex as soon as possible. To have some extra backup for his jerk off session.

➸ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) This man is so, so, so kinky. The list of his kinks is non exhaustive. ✧Choking. Quiet controlled since he had to take some anatomy classes for his pharmaceutical qualification. Knows exactly how far he can go. ✧Definitely dominant, if not sadistic by time. Will cultivate your submissive streak into full bloom so he can entirely dominate your sessions. When you get to fuck into Jonathan, Jonathan still powerbottoms and directs you in your actions. ✧Degradation, of course. This man has an ego big enough for an appartement complex. ✧Dirty talk. While a bit awkward at first, you have to get used to Jonathan's habit of using cultured, academic vocabulary. Don't be duped through, Jonathan can conjure scenarios of the smuttiest filth possible, capable of talking very crudely. Likes to hear himself talk, talking about himself - by g-d he's so creative and dirty, sometimes you almost cum by the images Jonathan conjures alone. ✧Free use: For you that means that really have to be avaible whenever Jonathan has untamable urges. Maybe makes exception when you have to cook or do some manual labour which requires attention, are on deadlines but if you can take breaks inbetween... why not use your breaks for him? For Jonathan free use means that he will happily receive a blowjob anytime, or will have you beg for him touching or you dry humoing him for attention. ✧ A big fan of role play. Honestly, the man has an entire mental catalogue of taboo or risqué fantasy scenarios (him a priest, you a chaste num, you a college grad begging for a better grade you'll need to really work for, you a patient who's boundaries he violates, him as a judge who gets corrupted by the desperate defendant...). Gets you into acting these out. CNC are often an element of them. ✧Intoxication. No need for hard drugs although he has had sex on an LSD-induced trip during college. Sometimes, when the mood is right being a bit tipsy together makes the warmth of the other more blissful. Lighter drugs are ok too, Jonathan's convinced he has mastered the dosage. Likes to slip in aphrodisiacs too when both of you have no appointments coming up on the next day. Once used, with your consent, sleeping pills to try out somnophilia and dubcon kinks. Jonathan does dabble with the idea of trying out his anxiety inducing toxins but the idea of him terrifying you raises resistance in him. After all, he adores you, wants to share a home he didn't have as a child. ✧Toys. (See T for toys.) ➸ L = Location (favorite places to do the do) For someone with control freak tendencies, Jonathan enjoys the thrill of maybe getting caught. Mostly he does check the surroundings well enough to know what to do in order to not get caught. At home, bed, couch, shower, bathtub, sofa, armchair, maybe table top, all stable surfaces are game. But his office, or the car is also an option. And if the weather and Jonathan's mood align, on a day of heavy rain he will pull in an abandoned alleyway or tunnel to give you head or take you from behind.

➸ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Jonathan is a lapsed catholic, it's not too complicated to wake his arousal. While more a fan of doing it with a stable partner, people showing some kind of submissiveness wake his interest. (It doesn't matter how they behave in public, as long as he can sense that they're probably sexually submissive...) In private, when you admit that you're sexually needy, he lets stew a bit, he already knows what's happening in the next 10 minutes. Oh yeah, and because Jonathan is an egocentric prick, he does fall for people he finds attractive and give him (scientifically informed) compliments for his work.

➸ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Whereas experimental, Jonathan won't do anything inflicting physical or psychologically impactful or even long lasting/permanent damage. Will also only ever use methods or toys he knows how to use. Bodily fluids are limited to saliva, tears, breastmilk, and cum. Stops when you use your safeword or begin panicking/hyperventilate. After the session he does ask you if you'd like to try it again. If you decidedly tell him that you would not want to do that ever again, he will drop it.

Jonathan enjoys compliments about his intellectual accomplishments but remains a bit squirmy when anything physical but his eyes gets complimented.

➸ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) For such an egocentric man, it's a bit of a surprise but he likes to dish out as much as he likes to be served. A pretty 50-50-situation in terms of giving and receiving. If not giving a bit more than receiving.For one, Jonathan genuinely likes giving oral. Likes to hear how good he is. Has to be said that he earned his praise for what he does with lips, tongue and fingers.

Eats a balances diet (studied a lot about the human body for his pharmacological direction) so his penis and cum taste good.

➸ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) While loving the game-aspect of fore- or roleplay, making it all sensual, Jonathan is normally a bit more rough and dominating. Wants you to remember who touched you. Yet, doing things slowly, in an erotic manner isn't rare for him either. Takes his time to kiss and exploring his partner's body.

➸ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Barely does or likes it. Jonathan likes to take his time, enjoys the attention directed towards him, making his partner quiver and whimper. Might grab you when he's agitated but even then sessions go for longer.

➸ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) From an outsider's perspective Jonathan's experimental, from his own perspective, he's acting within a natural, well controlled environment. Kinks are natrual parts of sexuality, they just need to be in snych with a partner's liking. Fancies himself knowledgeable enough about the human mind and body to explore the things he wishes to explore. Also thinks that he knows how to master and organize a room/environment so that even more public spaces are safe for sexual encounters. Jonathan has lot of confidence in his use of drugs, surroundings, toys, etc. whereas in actuality, reality might be more shrouded...

➸ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Pretty good. Can go for about 3 rounds a day. If you were separated for longer, Jonathan can gor for 4 rounds in a row. On some free days you probably had more sex than meals.(Not in a sex god way but more in a very horny, lazy sunday way.)

➸ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Has dictated which ones he allows you to use, also likes to see how you tease yourself with them while he watches you and is seemingly unfazed. For himself, Jonathan also uses some toys like a little vibrating egg, or anal beads. If you're in need for one, he got a strap on for you to use on him.

➸ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) This is the king of foreplay. Can make you cum only by foreplay if he wants to. Remember, Jonathan likes his dearest somewhat at his whim, and if they're needy, they're more eager to please to make sure he will give them what they want from him. So he might speak in innuendos or say something shockingly raunchy in a mater-of-fact tone that makes your libido spike from 0 to 110%. When you approach him with your horniness, Jonathan is cruel enough to make you wait until he reacts to your advances.

➸ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Can control his volume, but usually quiet vocal. Grunts lowly and breathes heavily while in public/semi-public spaces and puts a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. Might whisper some absolute filth into your ear though. In private, Jonathan moans, sighs, talks dirty, even growls while cumming. Likes to hear how loud he can make you moan...

➸W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) The cross necklace stays on during sex. Ironically has a pretty healthy relationship towards sex. To elaborate: The actual unsavoury aspect about a relationship with him is the emotional aspect of him needing to some extent dominate, and control his partner. But when it comes to sexuality, Jonathan in knowledgable enough about psychology and sexuality that he's not judgemental about kinks, preferences, and sexual diversity. (Diversity win, the mad scientist is chill about sexuality....)

➸ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) A pretty cock. A bit above average, a bit wider gridth than usual, has a rose pink tip, and sleek surface. Simply lovely to look at. Feels very good in your mouth.

➸ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He grew up Catholic. After he moved out of his grandmothers, all free to do as he pleased, Jonathan lives out all his repressed sexual guilt and teenage horniness. Jonathan does like to think of himself as refined enough, enjoys seduction, and creativity in the bed, and thinks a bit too clincally about kinks and sexual needs to act like a horny teenager but... boy, once he gets his hands on someone, Jonathan will try out everything they're both willing to do. You pick him up from work? Let's explore the thrill of getting caught in the office. Dinner on boring charity- or pharma-company meetings? Let's try not getting caught while he fingers you under the table. You just came back from work and want to shower? Jonathan will be the sweet boyfriend who helps you wash - just to get you dirty all over again.

➸ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Depends on the time of day. in the morning or if he needs to finish some work at home, Jonathan cuddles for a bit, then gets back up to work. If you've sex in the late evening, waits until you fall asleep first or are sleepy enough to not likely get up again. Likes to sleep with you together.

[deluxewhump]

Guilt Rituals II

Cam asks Zee about their history

CW: past abuse, discussion of past dubcon, cam/zee stuff. Zee is largely forgiving/sees it more like Cam does than Alex does if that squicks you!

I think I avoided this conversation in depth because I think Cam would definitely avoid it for a long time, but it would happen eventually. Alex’s house timeline

*

Cam let himself into Zee’s room one night after work, discarding his work shirt in the laundry hamper. It was wet with warm rain from the short walk from his car to the apartment. The summer storm continued to drive against the windows. He pulled one of Zee’s tee shirts out of a drawer and sat on his bed.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?”

Zee looked up, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. “Sure.”

Cam told himself anyone who was asked a question like that felt slight discomfort. It wasn’t because it was coming from him. He pulled the clean shirt over his head.

“When did you start to like it?”

It was out of the blue, but it had to be. He didn’t know how else to bring it up. He dreaded the answer he might get, but it would feel better than the speculation he’d been suffering in lately.

“When did I start to like what?”

“You know what,” he said quietly. Seriously. “With me.”

“Oh.” Zee thought for a moment, looking back and forth between Cam’s eyes. There was a pit of unease in Cam’s stomach that gnawed all day and only grew stronger at night. He felt it now. It made his heart beat faster.

“When I knew what you were doing,” Zee answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Well at first…” he switched off his tablet and repositioned on his bed so he was facing Cam more directly, his legs crossed beneath him. “Look, I wasn’t opposed to it. I never was. I just didn’t know how far you’d take things. I didn’t know if you’d try to hurt me with it. Like, is this sex or is it going to turn into something else?”

Cam nodded. That was more than fair. He’d thought Zee might say it was all a part of the hurting. That it was just more violence in a different form. His own thoughts paced in circles telling himself it wasn’t, it was, it wasn’t.

“If you’d asked,” Zee added, “really asked, I would’ve said yes.”

I’m sorry was on Cam’s tongue, but it felt vile. He said nothing.

“And it wasn’t something else,” Zee said gently, trying to reassure him. Reassure him. It was absurd. “You never hurt me with that, Cam. It was fucked up. I see that. Back then I was… not myself, a lot of the time. What was I gonna do, turn you down? But I’m not mad at you. I was just a little afraid of you still.”

“I’m sorry.”

He could say it for that part, for some reason. He was sorry he ever made Zee afraid of him when they were alone. He still couldn’t say it for the other thing.

“I know,” said Zee. “I can’t tell you it’s okay, but… you and me are okay.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m glad about that.”

“Did Alex bring it up again or something?”

“No,” Cam answered, pressing his fingers over his eyes. He had barely seen Alex this last week. Their schedules were fairly different. Now even Zee was working, albeit from home. He kept saying it was nothing much, that it was just an hourly gig, but Cam overheard Alex telling him it wasn’t “nothing much,” it was a leaps-and-bounds accomplishment considering the damage they’d done to his reading, and how hard he’d worked to regain it. Most importantly, it gave Zee some money of his own that wasn’t a gift from a former keeper, and a daily sense of purpose.

“I’m just stuck in the past right now, I think,” said Cam, just to say something.

“You’ve kind of made a lot up to me, you know.”

He winced. “How can I ever really make it up to you, though? How can I make it up to myself?”

Make it up wasn’t even the right words. He wanted to pay for it. There was no way to pay for it.

“I’ve wondered that, too,” Zee told him. “I’ve done more than one stupid thing in my life that I’m reminded of every single day.”

“Stupid isn’t the same as mean.”

Zee stared at his dresser in the corner before deciding whether or not to ask him something. “Why were you so mean? I remember trying really hard to be whatever you asked me to be. I get why the other stuff happened between us. I really do. I was there. But I still don’t get that part.”

Cam shook his head. “I dunno. I resented you. Not for who you are, I didn’t know you yet. Just for… being. Once you got there I kind of couldn’t stand to look at you. I think because I knew it wasn’t right. The conditioned responses and stuff kind of freaked me out. And, I think I wanted you to myself, and in order to be okay with the arrangement, I went with the part of me that resented you.”

Zee was looking at him calmly, indulgently. “I guess. I do wish it could’ve been a little different. I had Alex and Dom. They kept a lot on the rails for me. Kept me from, I don’t know, totally despairing, I guess? You guys made a frat house feel like a prisoner of war camp sometimes. It would’ve been awesome to have you, too.”

The gnawing grew stronger, spread outward and felt like missing a step on the stairs and nearly falling. Gutted, was the word he was looking for.

“I wish I could go back,” he said. He was pretty sure he meant it. That if he could press a button and have to relive all the bad parts of that year and a half over again, he wouldn’t hesitate. “I’d do it differently. I mean, I wouldn’t buy a boxie in the first place…”

“Don’t say that,” Zee said, widening his eyes for effect. “You guys were still a better deal than I might’ve gotten a lot of other places.”

“Okay, well, day one then. I’d… do it different. But I can’t.”

“That’s what regret is. It means you would if you could. But you can’t.”

“And what do I do about that?” he asked flatly, to no one in particular.

“I don’t know.” Zee laid back against his pillows and put his legs across Cam’s lap. “But if you figure it out, let me know, would you?”

[mordredisacoolname]

How the daredevil characters would top a gn reader? (Or at least the ones you think would top anyway)

Thank you for requesting! I really hope you enjoy

DAREDEVIL CHARACTERS (MEN) TOPING YOU

GN READER

Characters: Matt Foggy Frank Wesley Dex Ray

CW: N/SFW, smut

MATT- I think Matt will be a soft top. He likes sitting on a couch with you on top of him. Will touch every inch of your body, kissing and biting. Guiding you and talking you through it. Further into the relationship he'll be willing to be more dominant and aggressive, nothing too much as he doesn't want to hurt you, but not so soft either. I can also see him as a sub top, only if you want it, after long days. He just wants to lose control and be taken care of. Will probably cum before you as he's super sensitive but will not stop until you're satisfied.

FOGGY- very goofy, cracks jokes all the time. But is also very intense and intimate. Kisses you pationetely, holding your face in his arms and feeling you up. Starts with slow but hard thrusts and becomes quicker. Will not cum before you.

FRANK- honestly, he's a very romantic man. If you're in a relationship he'll be super careful with you and will spend at least half an hour before entering you, Kissing and feeling you all over. If you're just a one night stand or if you ask him and he's in the mood he'll be aggressive and fuck you till you can't walk. Will not do anything too risky tho, nothing that can harm you. Always cums after you, unless you're giving him a blowjob. Hard and deep thrusts, a lot of grunts and "fuck"s.

WESLEY- oh he's a sub top alright. Likes when you ride him, watching you bouns on him, making pleasant noises and faces. When he's close he'll flip you around and pound into you until you both cum. Likes dirty talk A LOT. Aggressive, likes when you RIDE him, making the bed squick.

DEX- he's either a very submissive top or a very dominant top. I can honestly see him as a bottom but when he's topping there's no in between. Really depends on his mood. If he's doming he'll have no mercy on you, you'll have to agree on a safe word so he known when to stop. Slaps, hair pulling, bites, choking. He's extreme. Honestly can see him being kinda selfish and if he's not in the mood he'll not continue after he finishes and will leave you unsatisfied. If he's being a sub he will want you to ride him senseless, grabbing his shoulders and making a lot of noises.

RAY- he's such a tease. Will literally edge you for hours and laugh about it. But will not cum until you do, he want to pleasure you and puts you before himself. Definition of heart eyes. He thinks you're so beautiful. Seeing you is such a vulnerable position, and so high on pleasure turns him on so much. Wants to look at your face while fucking you to see the good job he's doing. Kind of praise words, calling you good __ (whatever you prefer), telling you how good you're doing.

[whumped-by-glitter]

Day 5: Scream / Captivity / “NO!” Bonus Alt Prompt: Mouth Stitched shut

⚠️ CW: Needles, Piercings, Non-Con Body Mods, Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Nudity (non sexual), Drugging, Mild-Moderate Gore/Horror, Mouth Whump.

Day 4 Here < > Day 6 Here

This is an especially TW heavy entry, feel free to skip it, I will provide a summary of the plot important parts next time we catch up with Whumpee! some of these themes even squick me out!

Story Under The Cut

Days had passed since the horrific photoshoot. Whumper was true to their word and had provided them with a little food and copious amount of water, as much as they wanted after the session.

Whumpee sat ruminating, sitting against the wall they were once again chained to. A dim spotlight above them was their only source of light. They shifted uncomfortably, trying not put pressure on any of the still healing cuts and bruises that decorated their skin.

They winced at the word ‘decorated’, now they were sounding like Whumper apparently. They had no other word for it though, Whumper had carved an intentional pattern of shallow stabs and deep slashes across their entire body, front, back sides everywhere.

They plunked their head lightly against the wall, the sound echoing through the torture chamber hidden in the darkness ahead of them.

Their stomach rumbled loudly; they had not been fed again since that day. Whumper said it was to ‘keep them pretty for the masterpiece.’ Whumpee shivered at the thought, the person who held them captive was deranged.  They desperately hoped the team would find them before it was too late. Their wounds weren’t healing right, likely due to the stress and lack of food. Many weren’t scabbing over and were oozing a clear watery liquid. If Whumper didn’t do something to kill them first, infection was likely to finish the job, they thought in despair.

All at once there was an echoing thunk-click and the room flooded with harsh light, blinding whumpee.

Whumpee knew this meant Whumper had finished the planning for their ‘masterpiece’. Whumpee cowered as best as they could in the chains, trying to make themselves small, trying to protect themselves from the inevitable pain that they knew was coming.

A knot formed in Whumpee’s stomach when they saw a bag of supplies. The knot grew tighter and tighter as Whumpee watched Whumper unpack the bag. NEEDLES! SO MANY NEEDLES!!! Whumpee started to hyperventilate. They were terrified of needles and there was a table full of the me being unpacked.

“NO! NO! NONONONONO!” whumpee wailed, visibly trembling. Fear was threatening to drown them.

“Oh, come now, sweetheart, we haven’t even started yet,” Whumper chuckled. He finished setting up some paints and strode over to their prisoner. Whumper stroked Whumpee’s face, running his thumb under Whumpee’s eye, across their cheekbone. “before any of that, you need some color,” Whumper said softly, almost lovingly, a tone that made Whumpee feel physically sick.

Whumper proceeded to unchain Whumpee from the wall, not even bothering to handcuff them, they were too weak to fight in any meaningful way. He led them to a St. Andrew’s cross in the corner. Once Whumpee’s hands and feet were secured, they could hear Whumper skipping across the room for a moment before, skipping back to them, humming.

Whumpee craned their neck but before they could look…

Crack!

The noise split their ears seconds before their brain registered the searing pain. Whumpee cried, jerking in their bonds.

More and more lashes came.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The noise, the fear from the needles, the pain, it all got too much for Whumpee. They soon passed out.

When Whumpee came too, they felt a strange coolness being smeared on their back. It wasn’t unpleasant at first. It soon started to register that It was burning in the fresh whip wounds. Then the smell hit them, paint.

Whumpee tried to weakly struggle, to no avail.

“shhh, shhh,” Whumper crooned, “I’m almost done laying the background, blue looks gorgeous on you sweetheart.” Whumper wiped the access paint off, leaving the pigment just in the wounds, “now baby, its time for the real art.”

Whumpee started to feel panic welling up as they thought of the needles. Their breath quickened as they heard the table be drug closer to the cross. When Whumper unwrapped a needle and brought it to their back, Whumpee lost it.

Everything went black, their body burned, the burning soon became a feeling of being enveloped by white and it traveled up their body, centering at their throat. Whumpee gave a scream, an unnatural scream that shook the room.

Whumper crumpled in pain for a moment, trying to shake the ringing from his ears.

It took what felt like a lifetime to Whumpee for time to move again. ‘what had just happened?’

“My information said you didn’t have any powers!” Whumper growled angerly, storming to the table, grabbing a syringe. “No matter, you won’t be doing that again.” Before Whumpee could react, they felt a stab in their neck and a cool liquid flow into them. It only took a few minutes before they basically collapsed in the restraints.

To Whumpee’s horror, they realized they couldn’t move, at all, they couldn’t talk, they couldn’t even move their head. They started to completely lose their mind; fear coursed through them like a tidal wave. Every cell of their lizard brain was telling them to run, urging them to run, but they couldn’t move. Their tear ducts worked and that’s about it. They wanted to scream again but couldn’t. for the first time in their life Whumpee felt true Terror.

Whumpee felt themselves be detached from the cross and lifted. They were laid across the bench, the same one Whumper had drawn on them with a knife with. Whumpee would have winced if they could, the leather material touching their freshly wounded back stung.

“Now let’s fix that mouth of yours before the drugs wear off,” Wumper almost gleemed. “I wasn’t planning on this, but now the thought is there, this is going to add so much extra dimension!” Whumper was positively giddy. He disappeared for a moment but soon returned, standing over them.

Whumpee expected a gag, or tape, or….. they didn’t exactly know what they expected, but nothing could compare to the horror of what they saw…..

WHUMPER WAS STANDING OVER THEM WITH A NEEDLE AND FUCKING THREAD!!!!

“hold still,” Whumper gave a deranged smile.

The tears flowed freely from Whumpee’s eyes, as they tried to mentally brace them self for what was coming. They could do nothing but watch as Whumper threaded the thick purple thread onto the needle, inches from their face.

Whumper pinched Whumpee’s lips together and in one smooth motion pierced through both their top and bottom lip. Whumpee’s mind was screaming in terror, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be real. Maybe this was just one of those sleep paralysis episodes they read about. they tried desperately to think about something else, of Caretaker. Trying to picture every detail of their face, of leader, of everyone.

Pain continued to prick across their lips, the thread burning as it was pulled through. The pulling sensation was causing waves of nausea and despair to wash over them.

They again tried to distract them self. ‘what was youngest doing right now?’ They wondered to them self. It was no use though; the fear gripped their chest hard. Darkness edged their vision then, mercifully took over.

When Whumpee came to again they were on their stomach, they were immediately hit by sharp piercing pains. ‘the needles’ they realized in horror. They felt the skin on their shoulder blades be pinched then pierced through, again and again. Each time it pulled and agitated their lashes. They tried to move but still couldn’t.

“Almost done, my beautiful fallen angel,” Whumper sung. This lunatic was singing!

Whumpee felt more and more needles go into their shoulder blades, being pressed under the skin and out the other side. They started crying again, their lips were throbbing, their back was burning, stinging, and throbbing. ‘this can’t be real.’ They thought weakly, as the prolonged panic was beginning to shift to mental and physical exhaustion.

Whumpee felt themselves be lifted once again. This time they were being carried up the stairs, to their surprise and dread. What was going to happen to them now?

On the way up Whumpee’s head lulled and they were horrified to see rough, distressed feathers sticking out of their back like wings. They began shedding fresh tears anew. They were terrified the team would never find them and that they would just die here with Whumper.

Whumper carried Whumpee through what appeared to be a twisted art museum. He brough them to a huge glass case in the middle of the room. There were cables with hooks hanging from the ceiling, ‘sharp hooks’ Whumpee observed fearfully.

Whumper stripped them of the rest of their clothes then placed their limp, still paralyzed body on the floor in the center of the glass chamber. Whumpee looked on in helpless horror as Whumper lowered the hooks with a button.

The panic whumpee felt as the first hook pierced through the upper right part of their skin was indescribable. The pain was horrible but the fear, the horror, being unable to do anything but watch, that was so much worse.

A second matching hook went in and out of their skin. They could feel blood trickle across their bare skin. Then whumper got another deranged grin.

“we should get the difficult ones; the succinylcholine will be wearing off soon doll.” Whumper was still humming that sickening tune.

He brought two hooks to his face and put the first one through the skin on their cheek bone, just inches below their eye. Whumpee’s fight or flight instincts once again started to uselessly kick in, serving only to heighten their terror. They could hear the gross sound of the skin being pierced.

“so gorgeous,” Whumper whispered softly, stroking Whumpee’s hair before placing the next hook in the same place on the other side of their face.

This processed over and over again, two through their chest, two more on either side of their lower stomach. The final 2 went through the skin just above their knees.

If Whumpee had had anything in their stomach they would have vomited.

“Now the final touch!” Whumper exclaimed exuberantly.

Again, terror flew through Whumpee as Whumper pressed a button and they felt themselves lifted by the hooks.

Again, merciful darkness overtook Whumpee, it was all too much.

Event Prompt

My Event Masterlist

@whumperofworlds, @pigeonwhumps, @whumpsandbumps

[mywitchcultblr]

🚨 A harasser calling the Police on a trans artist over Warhammer 40k BDSM porn art and genshin impact 🚨

The harasser seems to be on Tumblr as well so be careful. Situation is very new and currently still ongoing and people is talking about this

TW and CW for the contents below:

Okay so someone on Twitter is harassing, stalking and doxxing, making false bigotry accusations and calling the cops on an artist over Warhammer 40k art and stuff about genshin impact that person seems to be very upset that the artist is drawing bdsm porn gore Warhammer 40k and they don't like art about Childe x Xiao?...

And they don't like art about Childe getting fucked by the tentacle monster or tortured or shipped with "the wrong person and not their fave"

This is the harasser Twitter account and Tumblr sock puppet account btw. I have no idea if the harasser might have a main Tumblr blog but could be hence why I'm posting this here because the harasser can be anywhere on Tumblr especially on Genshin

Edit: *sighing roll my eyes. Of course it's the people like this always. I had to update the tag now to include pro vs antis stuff... lord...*

As you can see the harasser is making these unhinged accusations about the artist and calling them racist slave owner Nazi (yeah probably the harasser is one of those people who believes that if you like Warhammer 40k then you are a Nazi)

I haven't seen any evidence of the artist doxxing a poc so far while the harasser literally calling the cops on other people over shipping and fan art

MissingOldRose has been harassing the artist for MONTHS both on Tumblr and Twitter, made concerning and threatening comments about the artist pets and also countless false accusations.

Also you noticed that the harasser is HARASSING THE ARTIST SIMPLY BECAUSE THEY ACTUALLY FELL SQUICK?! WHY DID YOU SWAT/CALLING COPS ON SOMEONE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELL SQUICKENED OVER FREAKING GENSHIN IMPACT AND WARHAMMER 40K FAN ART?!

Also accused an SA survivor (the artist) as a rapist over personal vent and fan art. I can't do it anymore with modern fandom. Especially with the fact that cops was called to arrest a TRANS PERSON over fan art. LGBTQA+ people are often the target of police brutality and unfair treatment both from the legal system and that's happening in the western world that supposed to be progressive countries.

In my country LGBT people have no protection

Another important detail

Yeah fyi for some people who wanting to call the cops or swatting other people over ship/art/ stupid ass shipping discourse, as quoted:

"Anyone has free artistic expression and they (the cops) don't find anything wrong at all with my art"

If you possessing and distributing CSEM yeah you can go to jail. BUT YOU ACTUALLY CAN'T REPORT SOMEONE OVER THE ART OF CHILDE GETTING HIS ASS RAMMED BY TENTACLES OR 40k ART.

Thats a false report and you won't go to jail over Genshin Impact shipping and art.

The situation today still ongoing

Remember the harasser is on Tumblr, last time i check the soc account is still exists and they MIGHT have main blog on Tumblr as well especially on Tumblr Genshin (but who knows just careful)

If you know MissingOldRose on Tumblr and Twitter or you know if they have main Tumblr account please be careful. @abusiveartistsfuckoff account as listed above is used for harassing and stalking on people Tumblr. Even if this situation doesn't impact you directly. What if that person (especially if you are on Genshin Impact fandom) doesn't like your ship or you art then threaten to do the same to you?

Also have some compassion for the artist please

Sorry for tagging this with genshin, doesn't mean to polluted the fandom but it's just an awareness since the harasser is on Tumblr and also a part of the Genshin community. It's really sucks because the game itself is really fun but by god some people in the Genshin fandom often went too far...

[dairy-farmer]

hi, pregnancy tag anon here!

mentions of pregnancy is fine, it's when pregnancy is like, the focus, or the pregnancy has advanced to creating an actual child that bothers me.

like, the post ends with tim getting pregnant, that's fine, hot even, but then if the post continues on with tim giving birth or having to get an ultrasound or something, it hits the squick button.

thank youuu

answered out of order:

got it 👍👍!! thanks for clearing that up i can definitely do that and will keep an eye out and remember to add the cw and tag when it happens ❤️

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives: Arc 3

Here begins the third arc! In a world with vampires and a government agency that hunts and studies them, a cure has been found. Ex-vampire Matthew wakes up as a human and finds Simon by his side - but their reunion doesn’t go as expected.

Once again, this arc is a shade darker than the previous two. Watch out for doctor whumpers, forced institutionalization, conservatorships, explicit onscreen noncon, and suicide (SEE THIS SPOILERY NOTE if suicide is a trigger/squick for you).

Let me know if you want on/off the taglist!

Sunless Lives Part 21: I Will Get Better

~2310 words

CW: description of underweight person, forced institutionalization, medical setting, emotional whump

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

A hand in his.

Hold it. Grab at it.

I need it.

“I’m here, Matthew.”

A voice. That voice.

His limbs were leaden. He needed air. He sucked it in and his lungs felt like they were fully inflating for the first time. They ached; his whole body ached. He cracked his eyes open and they were stung by the bright lights above him.

“Hey there, I’m here.”

Matthew Beck turned his head towards the voice, his neck protesting. The person next to him was blurry, but familiar.

“You’ve been in and out for a while, are you really awake this time?” He sounded hopeful. Excited. He reached out a hand and stroked Matthew’s face.

Matthew blinked, and his bedside attendant slowly came into focus.

He recoiled.

Simon McKenna looked awful. His cheeks and eyes were sunken into his face, nested in dark shadows. His hands, one clutching Matthew’s and the other hovering uncertainly outstretched, were near skeletal. His previously warm light brown skin now looked cold, gray and lifeless. His hair hung in dull curls. He wore a tight black turtleneck that accentuated his bony shoulders and arms. Even his eyebrows looked thinner than they used to as they pinched with worry at Matthew’s reaction.

“Matthew?” He dropped his hand onto Matthew’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?

Matthew could only stare at Simon as the memories came flooding back. The capture. The trade. The sacrifice. Matthew had turned himself into a vampire to save Simon, he’d gotten him all the way home, he’d been safe, he was with Gina and Isles, and then -

And then -

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Matthew whispered.

His words froze Simon in place.

“Huh?” was the only sound Simon could make.

“You… You stayed with me?” It came out as a croak. Matthew’s lungs heaved as he breathed too fast too soon. A blue tag rose and fell on his chest. The walls of the clinic room felt tight and oppressive. “You chose to stay with a vampire?”

“I - I told you, I couldn’t go back to the VIU, back - back to the basement,” Simon stammered, “and I helped you, you needed help, you wouldn’t have known what to do without me,” he gripped Matthew’s hand with renewed vigor, “And I kept you from hurting anyone, you never drank from or killed a human, you never hurt anyone, so -”

“I hurt you!” Matthew raised his voice, as best as he was able, “You let me hurt you!”

“No,” Simon shook his head sharply, “No, that’s different, I knew what I was doing -”

“You promised!” Matthew’s voice was beginning to fill out, and he forced himself upright and knocked Simon’s hands away from him. “You promised you wouldn’t let me hurt you!”

“This was different,” Simon’s voice grew in volume too, and he hugged his arms around himself. “I needed to keep you from hurting innocent people, I couldn’t let you -”

“I did hurt an innocent person!” Matthew yelled, “I hurt you, you fucking idiot!”

“I knew what I was doing!” Simon insisted, his voice wavering, “And I had just lost you, Matthew, I thought you had just died!”

“So you fucked my dead body?!” Matthew bellowed.

His words petrified Simon once more. He sat there for a moment, his chest heaving and his eyes brimming with tears.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think it mattered anymore, I thought…”

“If you thought I was killing myself for you,” Matthew spat, “The least you could do was stay with Isles where it was safe.”

Simon shook his head, suddenly angry.

“I didn’t ask you to rescue me!”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to rescue me!”

“That was different, that was for the team -”

“Oh, everything’s ‘different’ there’s always something -”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Simon shouted, jumping to his feet, “I’m not fucking stupid! I know what I’m doing! Every decision I made was one I thought was for the best! I was trying! Matthew, I was trying so fucking hard -” His words broke down into sobs and he pressed his hands to his face.

Seeing Simon cry did something terrible to Matthew’s insides. Anger fell away from him in sheets and was replaced by crippling guilt that sank its claws deep into his stomach.

“Simon, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean it, please stop crying!” The desperation in his voice caught them both off guard.

Simon’s hands slid down his face, revealing his eyes, red and wet. They bored into Matthew for a moment before he spun on his heel and went to the little counter on the corner, where he snatched up a tissue from a tissue box. He blotted his eyes and blew his nose, keeping his back to Matthew.

“Simon, I’m just..” Matthew searched for the right words, but all he could settle on was his initial pain. “You let me hurt you. I hate that I hurt you.”

Simon gradually turned around, fidgeting with the tissue in his hands, not looking up.

“It wasn’t really you, Matthew,” he said, taking shuddering breaths.

“I know, but,” Matthew choked on his words, “I remember it.”

Simon looked at him sharply.

“You remember everything?”

Matthew nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.

“Everything I told you?” Simon whispered. He looked scared, suddenly.

“Yeah,” Matthew managed to choke out, “Everything.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair, looking away, his mouth twisted. Matthew hated his hair long like that - it looked wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said eventually, “You shouldn’t have to carry all of that.”

“Neither should you.”

Simon grabbed the whole tissue box and returned to the chair. He offered the box to Matthew, who gratefully took a tissue and pressed it to his own eyes.

“I still love you,” Simon said gently.

“I love you too, Simon, I really do.” The words poured out before Matthew could stop them.

The doctor said the preybonding has lasting effects. What if…

I can’t say that to Simon. Not now.

Simon’s shoulders sagged with relief and he laid his head down on the bed. Matthew reclined back on the pillows, settling a hand on Simon’s curls. As soon as he did so he was assaulted with memories of grabbing Simon’s hair, pulling it, dragging him around. His hand flinched back and came to rest on his chest, fiddling with the blue tag there. If Simon thought the brief touch was odd, he didn’t react.

“What happens now?” Matthew asked.

“They’ll examine you, then transfer you to rehab.”

“No, I mean with us.”

Simon lifted his head to look at him, his eyes big.

“I won’t be able to see you for a while. I asked, they don’t allow visitors where you’re going.”

Matthew felt sick at the thought.

“Do they know how long this rehabilitation will take yet?”

“No.”

“But what about you, don’t you need… help?”

Simon waved the question away, forcing on a smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

There was a light tap at the door. They exchanged a glance, and a nod, then Simon called out.

“Come in!”

Isles entered the room first. Simon cried out with joy, leaping up to hug the captain. Jealousy flared in Matthew’s chest, but he tamped it down.

Preybonding, it’s just the preybonding.

Isles was closely followed by Amber, who Simon hugged in turn. The Captain and Amber both wore blue tags around their necks. Isles leaned over Matthew, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Back from beyond!” he laughed, a bit forced, “How’re you feeling?”

“Pretty shit,” Matthew admitted, and the Captain chuckled a little more easily this time.

“Where’s Gina, and Devon? Matthew’s dad?” Simon asked eagerly.

“I’m sorry, kid, they couldn’t make it,” Isles said, taking a seat in one of the chairs, “It was all we could do to get ourselves here in time.”

Simon returned to the other chair, eyebrows pinched.

“But this is their only chance to see him, we don’t know how long Matthew will be gone.”

“They’ll be right there when he gets out,” Isles said reassuringly, “I promise.”

Simon didn’t look satisfied, but Isles moved on.

“I actually need to talk to Matthew about how all of that’s going to work, and Simon, Amber needs to talk to you as well. Do you want to go out in the hall?” It didn’t sound like a suggestion.

Simon looked at Amber, then to Matthew, his brows still drawn. It took Matthew a second to realize he was waiting for his permission.

“It’s okay,” he reached out to touch Simon’s emaciated shoulder, “You can go.”

“Okay.” Simon stood, giving Matthew’s hand a quick squeeze goodbye. He and Amber filed out into the hall. Matthew watched them go. It felt terrible to have just a door between them, he couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be separated for weeks - maybe months. He shook his head - he couldn’t believe how possessive he was being. Simon needed to get away from him. He couldn’t even have a conversation with a friend without Matthew’s say-so.

“I really fucked him up, didn’t I?” he murmured, tears welling up in his eyes again.

“Yeah, you did,” Isles said grimly.

Matthew turned his head to look at the captain.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’ll be well looked after, I promise. And so will you. I’m making sure you’re going to one of the best facilities the VIU has.”

Matthew frowned.

“Really? Why?”

“Because you’re one of my best agents!” Isles scoffed. “What, you think I don’t like you or something?”

“Yeah.”

“For what?”

The tears returned and overflowed.

“Cap, I ruined him,” Matthew whispered.

“No,” Isles pressed a hand to Matthew’s shoulder, “No, Matthew, he was already -”

“Matthew!” The door was flung open, and Simon rushed to Matthew’s side. “Matthew, they want to send me to a psych ward, I don’t want to go, Matthew, tell them -”

“Slow down,” Matthew said, and Simon was immediately silenced. “What’s happening?” He sat up, holding Simon’s hand, his own tears forgotten. Whatever was wrong, he had to fix it.

“We want Simon to recover safely, at the best psychiatric care facility we could find,” Amber said, “He’ll have the best, but it is inpatient.”

“No,” Simon shook his head vigorously, “I’ll see a doctor, whatever you want, but I don’t want to be locked up again.”

“Simon,” Isles stood up, his voice firm, “Many of the vampires on your list are still out there. We’ve taken down some of them, now that we have the cure, but it will be a while before you can safely live alone. Fort Summerwhite is literally a fortress, you’ll be completely safe -”

“I don’t care! I’m not living in a prison again!”

“Simon, please -” Amber started.

Matthew had heard enough. He pulled Simon down to sit on the bed behind him, and slammed his feet down on the linoleum floor, standing up and putting himself between Simon and Amber.

“I think Simon has made himself clear, don’t you?” he snapped, the volume of his voice surprising even himself. Amber’s hand flew to the back of her belt, and Matthew realized she was reaching for her gun. So did Simon, and he stood and grabbed at Matthew’s arm.

“Matthew, stop, please don’t, I’ll go, it’s okay!” he pleaded.

Matthew was suddenly hit with another wave of memories, of Simon begging him to stop, to calm down, to get off of him. Nausea bubbled up in his stomach and he clapped a hand over his mouth.

“It’s settled then,” Isles said quickly, not letting the moment go to waste. “Simon, you’ll go to Summerwhite. There’s a car out front, ready to take you.”

“Right now?” Simon looked between Amber and Isles, clinging to Matthew’s arm tightly.

“Right now,” Isles confirmed, “Wynn will walk you out.”

“Can we at least have a minute to say goodbye?” Matthew demanded, as his nausea abated.

Isles nodded.

“Wynn and I will wait in the hall.” He ushered Amber out. She didn’t look so sure, her hand moving away from her gun very reluctantly as they walked out.

Once they were alone Matthew turned around and pressed his forehead against Simon’s. His possessiveness had gotten the better of him, but he knew what needed to be done.

“You have to go,” he said softly, “They’re right, I can’t keep you safe from other vampires anymore. And… I want you to get better. Simon, you can’t see yourself right now. It’s bad, you need help.”

Simon sniffled.

“You’re right, I know you’re always right, I just don’t want to be locked up again.”

“You heard what Isles said, they’re actually taking down some of those vampires they couldn’t before.” Matthew knew many of their names now, and what they had done - he suppressed a shudder. “You can do this, it’ll only be for a little while,” he encouraged. He had to be strong, for Simon.

“Only a little while,” Simon echoed.

“Yeah,” Matthew said, and against his better judgment, he tilted his head and kissed Simon. Simon kissed back desperately, lapping at Matthew's lips and cupping his face. Matthew felt his hands sliding over Simon’s hips, and he broke away. He couldn’t let himself go any further, not with Isles and Amber waiting just outside. Simon seemed to understand this, and stroked a thumb across Matthew’s cheek, gazing up at him.

“I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

“And I’ll come get you if I get out first,” Matthew replied. “It’ll be okay.”

“Promise?” Simon searched his eyes.

“Promise.”

Simon gave him a quick peck on the lips, scooped up his coat, and darted to the door, as if he left too slowly he wouldn’t be able to. He glanced back once, then slipped out. Matthew watched the door close behind him, sinking back onto the bed. A part of him already regretted letting Simon leave his sight. It was a hungry, gnawing part of him that wanted to run out into the hallway, grab Simon tightly and… do something. Not feed. Not fuck. But something.

It scared him.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

[shywhumpauthor]

YOU!! Can u do a whumper-to-whumpee prompt where they’re rlly vulnerable? Pls and tank ya.

ME!! I can!!

Just a heads up, this is a lot darker than what I usually write. Playing with my comfort zone a bit, testing the waters of my squicks and stuff.

For the sake of keeping things from being confusing, I’ll state this beforehand. “Whumper” is ex Whumper turned Whumpee. “Whumpee” is ex Whumpee turned Whumper. The names are the same for the roles BEFORE the dynamic shift

Cw: gore, hand whump, mentioned murder, dark themes, refusal to eat, starvation, thoughts about death/wanting to die (not really in a suicidal way, more so a “put out of misery” way, amputation, gore, blood, torture, restraints, sadistic whumper, mentioned eye/mouth whump, a little bit of pet whump towards the end, rough wound care, abuse

Everything in Whumper’s body hurt.

Their ribs seemed to crack with each breath, bruised sides screaming with every shallow inhale, lungs burning as they carefully exhaled. Their sternum was on fire, a cold flame crackling in the pit of their chest, searing anything and everything within proximity. Their stomach cramped with the pain of hunger, which at first they had found to be the most unbearable of it all, but as the days in captivity stretched to weeks, with only a few scattered, intermittent meals to sustain them, they had grown used to that ache. Any food Whumpee seemed to spare them was never enough, not to even begin to tame the hunger. Each bite only ever left them feeling more empty than before, to the point where it had once driven them to stop eating entirely. It wasn’t like they could manage to keep much down anyways. Whumpee had put a quick end to that, however, if Whumper wasn’t going to eat by themself, they’d have to settle for having the food shoved down their throat.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” was what they had said, their voice more a snarl than words. “You try anything like that again, I swear to hell and back I won’t be as kind as now.”

At one point, Whumper would have scoffed. They would have come up with some snarky response about how their little bitch had grown to be so rude and demanding, which certainly would have earned them another slap but they would just laugh. Make some comment on how weak Whumpee was, even after all that time. Still pathetic, just as always. They would have delighted at how red Whumpee’s face got, how mad those few little words made them. That even though Whumper was now the one in chains, it was clear who still had control.

That Whumper had died a thousand times. They had been tortured, torn apart piece by piece until nothing remained but a broken, shivering shell of what they once were.

Whumper had long since given up on the hope of death. That was one mercy Whumper had always extended, whether it be intentional or not. The concept of life had always been so easy to slip from their grasp, out of their control. It was inevitable, in most cases. Sometimes they would try to delay it, drag it out until they found themself content and finally allowed their subject to release into the glassy-eyes void. A look Whumper had grown to adore, the way their lips would slowly turn blue, the way the colors faded from their features until they were nothing but cold, dead husks. They would also grant life, if their toy would so wish. If by the time they were finished, they were still managing to drag in ragged breath after breath. Once Whumper released them, they were free. If they could make it to civilization, to the nearest town from the cabin Whumper spent their life within, they would no longer be pursued. It was pathetic, and yet, every time. The way their eyes would flicker with the first sparks of hope they had seen in months—at least for those still left with eyes. The way they would stumble, or in most cases crawl across the porch Whumper dumped them on, dragging themselves with a sudden energy.

It never lasted long. As far as Whumper knew, none of them had ever made it further than a mile.

Whumpee wasn’t like that, though. Oh god, if Whumper had known, they would have killed them that first night in the alley. They did not give that kind of pity. No. From the very first day, Whumpee had made it clear. Death would not be an escape, and Whumpee would guarantee that.

The torture was agonizing and slow, drawn out across days, weeks. Whumpee would always be sure to clean the wounds afterwards, whether that mean hosing Whumper down with the frigid water in the back yard, or dripping some alcohol directly into the gashes. Even the smallest wounds for bandaged, but Whumpee never seemed to spare the expense for traditional gauze or wraps. Duct tape wrapped over the lacerations, which would only rip open the scabs when Whumpee deemed it was time for the dressings to be changed. Whenever Whumper began to think that maybe, just maybe, they were lightening up, Whumpee would walk in the next day with some horrible new tool, worse than anything Whumper had ever used.

Whumper shuddered from where they lay, every part of their body aching worst than the last. Their entire body went rigid as they heard the terrible click, the one they had grown to absolutely dread.

They couldn’t bring themself to do anything more than crack open their eyes, well, at least one of them. The other was nearly swollen shut, nearly the entire half of their face swallowed with an ugly bruise. They could only watch as the heavy pair of boots descended down the steps to the basement.

“Rise and shine, buttercup!” Whumpee’s voice was light and bubbly, in the poor filtered light that streamed through the grimy windows, Whumper could just see the smile on their face. They held something in their hands, but from the height which they stood. Whumper couldn’t make out quite what it was. “I’ve got a surprise for you, come on, sit up.”

Whumper let out a shaky breath, their gaze falling to the concrete ground just inches away, eyes beginning to burn as tears quickly welled. Usually they were good with not crying—they knew it only made Whumpee mad. They didn’t deserve to cry, not after everything they’ve done.

But god, they were just so tired. Yesterday had been brutal in a thousand different ways, they were sure they wouldn’t have been able to sit up if they tried. The shackles wound tightly around their wrists, only a few inches of chain between the loop drilled into the floor didn’t allow for much room to move, either.

“Did you not hear me?” Whumpee’s boots stopped less than a foot from their face. So close Whumper could see the old splatters of blood that covered the dark leather. They could practically feel it slamming against their face, like it had countless times before. Crushing their nose and loosening a few teeth as the sole caught them square in the jaw, knocking them so hard they would see stars. “I said sit up.”

Whumper let their eyes slip closed as a rough cough seized their chest, pain like a thousand searing knives tearing through all the abused muscles in their sides. Something hot and sticky dripped from the corner of their mouth, painting their lips with a coppery taste.

From above them, Whumpee sighed, just barely audible as Whumper finally slumped back, cheek pressing to the cold ground.

Whumpee crouched down, setting what they held down next to them. A strong scent invaded Whumper’s senses, for a moment all they could comprehend was the overwhelming presence of food. Not the oatmeal rice mush they were used to having shoved down their throat, but actual food. Chicken and cut potatoes and some vegetable that Whumper couldn’t quite make out through their distorted sight. For a moment, they felt like they were going to be sick at just the sight, the tug of hunger in their gut nearly making them gag. They slowly raised their gaze to Whumpee’s face, searching for the signs of a trick. They were taunting them, of course. This was a cruel game, a joke. Putting food just in front of them, but never allowing them to eat it. It wasn’t the first time Whumpee had done something like that.

“Caretaker says I ought’a go easier on you,” Whumpee muttered, rocking back on their heels as they pulled something small from their back pocket. “They’re worried you’re gonna keel over if I don’t start takin’ better care of you, said if I didn’t start doin’ nothing, they would. And we can’t have that now, nope. Believe me, I don’t like it either.”

Caretaker. The name rung faintly in Whumper’s mind, but there was nothing that came up besides a distant feel of familiarity. A terrible cold jolted up their arms as Whumpee twisted the metal between their fingers, picking up Whumper’s wrists and fitting the small rusted key into the lock. A moment later, the shackles fell with a small clatter to the ground, and Whumpee let go of Whumper’s wrist, letting it drop to the ground. They didn’t make any effort to move, but their breath hitched slightly, letting Whumpee know they were at least a little aware of what was happening.

“Shit, you stink,” Whumpee moved back slightly, their face scrunching as they wrinkled their nose. “Guess you’re due for a bath. Whatever, now just eat.”

A moment later Whumpee straightened up, looking down at their past abuser with an expression somewhere between a scowl and disgusted pity. They bit the inside of their cheek, watching as Whumper’s fingers twitched, the remaining ones. Their left hand with only three, the right with four. The marred areas still fresh and pink.

A pinprick of emotion splintered through Whumpee’s mind as they looked down at their own hands. A few scars, a few burns, all long healed, but nothing like Whumper’s.

“I’m not done with you,” They muttered, shoving their hands into their jacket’s pocket. They weren’t sure if Whumper could comprehend what they were saying. “So don’t go thinking that, alright? This’s just for a little bit.”

Whumpee stepped back, twisting the key between their fingers as they made their way over to the stairs.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have a pet, ‘specially after everything you’ve taught me. We’ll see how much I can really break you then.”

[parameciam]

i'm so tired of fandom police and people that demands that i justify why i like the things i like / ship the things i ship -.-

CW: mentions of SA, CSA, ableism + long rant incoming about my own experience in fandom as an autistic person

this morning i stumbled on a post (not here) about my fav ship, saying that we should talk about a certain scene (dubcon) and that their shippers never talks about it.

i read the whole thing and ended up so fkn annoyed and spent all day thinking about why i was so mad.

it's not because someone doesn't like my fav ship, btw, i couldn't care less about other people ship preferences. i only care about my own and wish everyone else did the same so i can enjoy my "problematic" things in peace, thank u very much.

it wasn't about the dubcon part either, i know it's triggering, it's complicated, and many people won't ever ship them because of that. no one is required to ship them, or like them at all, btw. (addendum: it's a canon side ship, not fanon) and of course i'm not going to question other people's squicks and triggers, esp since i was sexually abused as a child.

and then it dawned on me that that i was mad because the post wasn't really an invitation for us shippers to share our views on them. it was an invitation for other people to be scandalized with them about shiping something like that, and since they directly mentioned the ship and the characters, i stumbled upon it.

for a moment i contemplated the possibility of actually replying and going meta over my blorbos, but decided against it because i don't have the emotional capacity to participate on discourse without fear of ending up having a meltdown.

but i kept thinking of how this kind of thing has happened all my life: the things i like, the ships i ship, the characters i love, the media i consume, and the ways i enjoy them have always been questioned (for different reasons across time). being autistic equals being perceived as wrong, broken, too much, too little, too weird (long list of misc etc) and people outright tells you that or shows it anyway, even if they think they don't lol so I'm like, extra tired of feeling excluded and/or constantly being made to feel wrong and immoral.

it's not like i don't know that some of the thinks i like/write/read etc are dark, morally wrong, unsafe irl, etc. it's just that i enjoy all that in fiction, i think it's a safe place to explore delicate issues and themes, and esp enjoy finding the nuances that the narrative wants to explore. i love imperfect victims, i love good people making wrong choices, i love the realism of gray characterization.

i don't anyone to tell me shit i already know, i have eyes, i read/watched the same novel/manga/whatever. maybe we have different interpretations, but that's it. i don't think i'm morally superior, nor do i want to be. what i do want are discussions in good faith.

maybe that's why no one mentions that scene either, because we already know how that's going to go (and it's already a small side of fandom, so why bother).

sorry for the looong ramble, i needed to get this out of my system. i don't want to tag the ship/fandom because this was mainly about my own feelings and don't want to bring hate or initiate discourse about them.

in fact, most of my thoughts and feelings about them are going to take the form of a fic relatively soon: i don't feel qualified to write meta about them 😅 but i want to explore so many things about them, and disability, and ableism, autonomy, agency, etc etc etc.