#noncon mention

[just-antithings]

Antis on twitter managed to get a cancer patient account permanently banned from mass reporting because the account owner draw noncon fanarts as their only source of income because the cancer riddled them unable to work normal jobs

Link: https://twitter.com/purity_culture/status/1833067476008985000?t=-Eu02dqJFrzy_GAoxGmloQ&s=19

priorities!

[kairithemang0]

wait wait wait there's a hatchetfield smut week???

why do i kinda feel

idk gross?

no hate to the event or those participating other than the fact one of the prompts is noncon????

[crowdemoninkinkyboots]

“ciel can’t consent” actually it’s sebastian who can’t consent. ciel has complete control over him

[way2manyusernamez]

I've been noticing a lot of people in the radqueer community hiding behind vague harmful identities. Here is a short dictionary of what they really mean, with sources:

Xenosatanism

abolition of age of consent

pro bestiality

pro 'real cp'

believes in "non-consensual but harmless sexual interaction" and its legalization

also, this paragraph: "Destigmatization and desacralization to some extent of rape, molestation, sexual abuse (bcs of a priori and retrospective harm induced by internalized social norms. Tho, we don’t want harmful rape to be fully legal)"

Basedqueer

pro nonconsensual abuse

pro "cisharmfuls who arent seeking recovery / want to get worse"

pro real cults, harassment, self harm and eating disorder encouragement

pro contact

pro "minor made porn / minor sexual material"

Lacedqueer

pro rape and noncon abuse

meant to be a combination between basedqueer and LSDqueer

Noxiaqueer

pro bestiality

pro CP

pro xenosatanism and basedqueer

"neutral" and "flexible" about stalking, harassment, suicide baiting, cults, rape, and non consensual activities

LSDqueer

pro rape

pro CP

Alternatefreak

pro harassment, abuse, cults, and murder

see also: "Pro abuse terminology on Tumblr", and my screenshot of what "MSM/MMP" means (minor sexual material / minor made pornography) (edit: hyperlinks broke in this paragraph, edited to fix)

[vladdyissues]

Seriously, there are more than enough fanfics and rule34 art of Danny getting raped by Vlad till he's bleeding, but the second the reverse is suggested you clutch pearls.

You Peppers ship a 14 year old with and adult who wants to kill him, at least don't look down at me like you got a moral high ground. And just to not sound hypocritical, of course I ship them too.

Vlad can be the cruel, brawny, tall, big dicked man and Danny has to be the catamite, but an alternative can be great too, a bit divergence damn it,

"Enough of this thing exists already! I want everyone to stop making this thing they enjoy and instead make the thing that I want to see!"

Anon, you sound like a screaming, tyrannical toddler.

You're the one throwing a hissy fit about there not being enough Tall Strong Big-Dicked Danny content while the rest of us mind our own business. You're the one spamming our inboxes with asks—sometimes very graphic, distasteful, and definitely unwanted asks—about ship dynamics that we have repeatedly explained don't appeal to us. And yet you keep sending them.

This isn't even about shipping or dynamics, really. This is about you not respecting our boundaries and trying to force us to cater to your personal preferences.

Metaphorically, you're going to every ice cream parlor in town and having a tantrum because they're not serving cheeseburgers. "There's too much ice cream in here!" you scream—in a restaurant called We Love Ice Cream And Serve Nothing But Ice Cream. "I want a cheeseburger! Why don't you serve something other than ice cream!? You're all a bunch of pearl-clutching snobs who look down at me because I like cheeseburgers! Well, the ice cream you serve is gross, anyway!" (As if there's only one flavor of ice cream, and its the flavor of Pompep that you mentioned.)

You're being an ass, anon. This is not how you ingratiate yourself to your fellow fans or shipmates—especially not when you imply that some of us are shipping Vlad and Danny the """"wrong"""" way and your way is somehow better or more interesting.

How about the next time you feel like sending someone another ask about Big Tall Strong Danny wrecking Vlad's anus with his 16-inch monster cock, you instead pick up a pencil and learn to draw art and write fic of the things that you want to see? Because that's what the rest of us did.

Be the change you want to see in the world.

[glitch-after-dark]

Mer formers dratchet finding a sparked Rodimus who was abducted from his home and can’t go back because it was destroyed?

Now they have a sparked distrusting & traumatized mer they are slowly falling in love with

oh yes

The way this idea just gripped ahold of me and I love this idea but got a little caught up in plot and it got pretty long.

I've got another related ask, too. It's probably a bit less horny than intended, but I'll do more in a bit. Happy mermay!

Rodimus grew up in the Nyon shoal and was very social and comfortable and happy. Their shoal was settled around an uninhabited island from which they took their name which spent most of the time submerged and has complex reef system around it. It was considered one of the most beautiful places on Cybertron with pink sands and fiery colors mers matching the reefs surrounding it. It was Preserved and people weren't supposed to travel there but that didn't stop an occasional wealthy mech from hiring someone to go there as they considered fees to be "entrance payments" more than punishment. While wary most of the people who came regular, marine biologists who studied them, were friendly and the shoal was a much more social and less aggressive one than most.

At least partially due to the fact the island used to be inhabited and they had a shared community until a disease that the mers were immune to wiped out the island population. They still passed down stories and remembered them. The "strange" rituals that the biologists studied are the ones passed down to honor their former friends. Rituals that look religious in nature because it was as their former neighbors worshipped Primus.

All this adds up to Rodimus seeing Tyrest, who was slightly obsessed with it since he recognized a long defunct religious gesture in one of the videos a Senator showed him of "visiting" the island and believe it to be a sign, and swimming right up to him. Rodimus sees him do the gesture and returns it enthusiastically, swimming much closer than he would normally and even perching up on the boat's edge which led to him getting snatched.

Rodimus suffers during his time with Tyrest, who treats him like a pretty toy, and punishes him when he "acts up". It only gets worse the more time passes and Tyrest gets handsy. Rodimus becomes incredibly hostile to all mechs and Rodimus starts to get drugged daily to keep him placid.

Then he has his first heat and Tyrest is eager to take advantage of it to arrange for artificial insemination. It required getting him out of the tank though. The drug burns out quicker than Tyrest realized and Rodimus begins to become more lucid and once Tyrest dismisses his guards and staff for the day, Rodimus rips out his throat. Tyrest kept Rodimus in his private island, letting him look out at the sea but never touching it.

Rodimus drags himself through the house and across the sand into the water. He's hurt and bleeding and exhausted but he's free even if he's somewhere new.

Rodimus is not a very sturdy breed of mer or one meant for long distance or deep ocean travel on top of still smelling like heat. He encounters a lot of dangers from predators and other mers, reacting with almost feral aggression not allowing anyone, even friendlies close. He follows old stories and constellations to eventually find Nyon, or where it was. There was an accident and a ship carrying oil wrecked and the leak destroyed Nyon. There are mechs working to try and clean it, but the reef and shoal are dead and the pink sands stained.

Rodimus now heavily pregnant and strained with grief wonders blindly, avoiding the large stretches of territory or inhabited areas he goes through, and finds an island that looks mostly untouched, no mechs or mer shoals obvious and just falls asleep exhausted in one of the underwater caves.

The reason it is untouched is it is neutral territory where the "sea witch" Ratchet and his mate Drift live. Who find Rodimus, so exhausted he doesn't even wake up when they touch him, clearly having starved himself, undersized and with poorly healed injuries. They take him back to their cave and Ratchet quickly cleans his long neglected wounds and treats them, while Drift helps him feed Rodimus via mouth-to-mouth until he has enough strength to respond and swallow when they put it in there. He sleeps for days with their tending, tense and curled up even in his sleep until on the fifth day he wakes up.

Rodimus is incredibly wary of the two other mers when he wakes up. He is hissing and bristling and ready to fight, though instinct has him pushing himself back into the back of the cave and curling around his swollen belly. He is full and healthier than he has been in ages, and everything is screaming to nest.

Drift and Ratchet are soft. They've never managed to carry more than duds despite their long courting. They suspect they are wither infertile or incompatible. They have more than enough to support a carrier, and both have gotten a little attached while carrying for him.

They give Rodimus space, leaving him food and not forcing themselves close. Slowly, warily, he creeps out. They both freeze when he does, letting him make the first moves. When he creeps out further, Drift trills at him hopefully, which startles him and sends him rushing back into hiding.

It's slow progress with Rodimus watching them warily from where they've tucked him into an inner cave, and their instincts are acreaming to take care of him more and barely sated by glimpses and food and occasional glimpses of him sleeping and smelling content. Both are patient though.

One day, when it's just Ratchet, Drift, having gone out to hunt and patrol to settle some of his "expecting babies" instincts, Rodimus finally creeps out. Ratchet's own instincts to prepare have led to him overprepping in medicine and gathering a bit. He's been trying to prepare for any eventuality. He doesn't freeze or react when he feels Rodimus moving behind him and forces himself to remain calm letting him approach and watch Ratchet curiously.

Rodimus, meanwhile, has gotten curious about his not-captors. He has become absolutely certain they don't want what most have wanted from him and don't appear to be a threat. Mostly, they seem to want to feed him. He's been listening to them interact and talk but still doesn't understand why. He doesn't feel safe, but he also doesn't feel actively in danger.

So he's decided to approach the safer looking one alone. Drift may be smaller, closer to Rodimus’s size, but he's all predator with prominent fangs and claws and spines. Ratchet, meanwhile, is bigger than him but has duller claws, practically just nails and grinding teeth as well as non-prominent fangs and eats kelp as much as any fish. Rodimus is pretty sure his main defense is his thick hide, size, sharp tongue, and Drift.

They talk, and while it is tense, it soothes things. Ratchet explains how they found him, what he is doing, and briefly a bit about himself and Drift. He also offers Rodimus safety in their home as long as he wants to stay. When asked why Ratchet nods to his swollen belly and says he can't just let a school less first timer go at it alone when he can help and that Rodimus will need suport and be unable to hunt for himself soon enough. Rodimus has bee filling more and more the instinct to den down and prepare but is still suspicious.

Rodimus demands what exactly Ratchet wants in return, and he says for Rodimus to let him treat his wounds and make sure he and any pups or healthy before Rodimus leaves. If he wants to leave, that is. He also confirms Drift feels the same way. Rodimus still doesn't trust it, but Ratchet hasn't lied so far and had plenty of time to take advantage.

Drift comes barrelling in, freezes, and gets excited, sending Rodimus back into hiding. Dratchet talks about taking things slow. Or at least that's what they think until the next day. Rodimus is nervous at first but gets comfortable very quickly, and by the end of the day, he is acting like he owns the place. Which is at least 65% bravado, but he is forcing himself to be comfortable in order to convey confidence. Drift, of course, is thrilled and very friendly and readily spoiling him, eager to show off their home and area, and Ratchet is very tolerant and fussing at him to eat or drink.

Rodimus is surprised how quickly it turns to genuine comfort with them. He swims with Drift acting as sentinel, but always gentle and cooing as he shows them small wonders and races and dances around him in warm shallows that look perfect for pup. He hangs around Ratchet on his tired days lounging and pestering him when Ratchet makes medicine, and Ratchet huffs but explains or tells stories about his travels, which are interesting and pretty wide. Other times, they go to gather medicinal things. It's further than Drift usually takes him but Rodimus stubbornly demands to come and inevitably ends up dozing on Ratchet's back being gently carried home between them

He realizes as his room (den) becomes filled with pretty rocks and decrotive plants and soft sponges for a bedding and fine sand perfect for burying eggs and carefully selected rocks that both have given him that they've been acting both as sire and community and he cries and realizes he may be rwally and truly safe.

He starts being more open with them and laughing and smiling, and things get warmer and affevtionate as all three start falling for each other. Now that Rodimus is safe and his body isn't stressed he enters a new stage of his carrying and finds himself curling up against Ratchet in the cave not wanting to leave and purring or dragging Drift to his berth to cuddly and clunsy try and wrap his tail around him. Both of them pick up on it and smell it, but after what Rodimus said, they are reluctant to force the issue. Finally, after he half tucks himself under Ratchet and just vibrates while chirping, they do, and Rodimus realizes he's been making moves and decides rather than be embarrassed to go fully in.

They start assisting him, and when they do, they can't stop. It's a near constant pausing what they are doing to push him down and gently fuck into him while he purrs and clings to them, long pretty tail wrapping around them and clinging as much as possible. Both becime reluctant to leave him and he is firnly in the den napping most days and rarely venturing far. They prepare in earnest not to leave for awhile and the last two weeks of his carrying is just slow fucking, cuddling and constantly rearranging things to be perfect.

By the time Rodimus lays the eggs, they are all thoroughly mated and pleasantly surprised to find they hatch a mix of Rodimus's broght colors and white and red patterns.

[hold-him-down]

“Ah, ah, none of that.”

from this ask game

“Ah, ah, none of that,” Ivan says as Leo, barely even conscious, pulls away from his touch. “If you keep it up, we will have to strap you back down, and I know you do not want that,” he coos, tracing his finger along Leo’s jaw.

His boy is a furnace, going on three days of this, and even though he is sticky and too-warm and all of his spirit has been dissolved in sickness, Ivan wants to spend some quality time with him now because he is going to be an angry little lion when they put him in the cold water.

Mikhail, the doctor, said Ivan could try to make him take his medicine, but should not ‘terrorize him more than that’ until he is feeling better. Ivan had it in his head that he would fuck his boy til he bled just to spite that god damn doctor, but looking at him now, he is ashamed to admit he feels something like pity.

So he fills the little cup with the liquid and he does his best approximation of ‘tender’ as he pries Leo’s mouth open, and it shouldn’t surprise him, but the fucking boy immediately turns his head, gagging, and the liquid goes everywhere. Ivan backhands him on impulse, but feels a little bit of a sting of regret when Leo barely reacts.

Ivan takes a breath and tries again. This time, as soon as the medicine is in his mouth, he covers it, holding his head tightly in place as Leo fights to free himself with, frankly, the strength of a silkworm. Ivan has to plug his nose too, to get him to swallow it, which is frustrating as all hell after two months under his care, but it’s a little bit sweet, too.

He turns to show Mikhail his work and is met with barely concealed animosity. Ivan could not be fucked to care about the doctor’s opinion of him, so he shrugs and exits the room.

[xieliansbignaturals]

Fereal (a super cool TGCF fic author) just came up with a new idea, and someone shared it in one of my Discord servers: https://x.com/Fereael/status/1817313893078679850

Copied and pasted from the tweet, so you don't have to click through: "What if WuLian with amnesia Hua Cheng who gets it into his head that Hua Cheng must be mistreating Xie Lian because Hua Cheng is a supreme (like BWX was) and because Xie Lian is liming and has bruises on his wrists so Wuming decides to kidnap Xie Lian in order to save him"

My response:

*Saw trap voice* Hello, Xie Lian. Slinging you over his shoulder right now is a mentally regressed version of your beloved husband, at a time in his life when you feel you failed and hurt him very badly. He is convinced that you are being abused (by a person who is actually him) and need to be saved from your happy, consensual sex life. To convince him otherwise, you must explain that despite his image of you as the most chaste person ever, you have now learned that you love indulging in rough, kinky sex. Good luck.

[illithiddies]

i wanted to see what would happen if you talked to the drow twins as astarion, and needless to say im absolutely devastated over every single dialogue choice here

i cant remember how many of these options are standard and how many are unique but still. the level of concern in a bunch of the first set of options is just so especially heartbreaking with his context. god.

[just-antithings]

Rant incoming, 'cause there is one thing, even done by proshippers, that's pissing me off. (Rant is anonymous, 'cause I'm a baby).

I happen to be a person, who's incredibly into medicine. Not a doctor or such, just hobbyist. I always get excited as fuck about everything medical, disorders, illnesses, injuries, EVERYTHING. I also happen to have an amputation fetish.

Because of the above, I always go insane about characters, who have various, both physical and mental, health problems, the more severe, the better. If not canonical, then I can write them some. The latter is my favourite thing, I love doing research and incorporating all the medical knowledge into making my faves suffer. It gives me a lot of enjoyment. I also happen to like caretaking tropes, sometimes to an extreme level, so I always go ham on my fics.

I get called ableist for that.

And. Like. Why? It's all fiction. It's not real. Fictional character suffering from health problems is as real as fictional character being raped or murdered – not at all. So why is it treated differently? Why having an amputation fetish is treated differently, even in some proship spaces, from having a noncon fetish? I don't get it. I thought it's obvious I won't get all giddy about a real sick person the same way I get over a character.

I seriously don't get it.

.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Sometimes I see antis who are huge fans of certain characters and I want so desperately to just be like

"Your fave is a canon rapist and sex trafficker."

"Your fave is a canon serial killer who specifically targeted very young children."

"Your fave canonly destroys entire planets for fun."

[pyrepostings]

Thinking about a whumper who just loves making whumpee look at him while he does horrible things to him.

"Oh, you can't bare to look at me? Well I have something to help us through this. Just a drop of this in your eyes and you won't have to see anything at all! Don't worry, it's not permanent. And in the meantime your pupils will constrict ever so nicely so I'm told. Keep those beautiful green eyes open for me, pet."

The rising heart rate as whumpee's vision fades out, the relief when it blurs back in.

Also thinking about the eyedrops being addictive. It has a nicotine like effect where the user feels calmer and more focused when blinded, but really they're just more anxious the rest of the time.

Thinking about whumpee searching for the eyedrops after they're rescued, because no amount of dark rooms and blindfolds make them as calm as when they are so totally blind in whumper's control.

[trafficblr-confessions]

TOXIC FLOWER HUSBANDS TRUTHERS PLEASE STOP HAVING SCOTT NON CON JIMMY IN YOUR FICS TO PUSH FORWARD ANOTHER SHIP AND THEN NOT TAG IT PROPERLY PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU SOMETIMES I JUST WANNA READ A GOOD OL FLOWER HUSBANDS OR RANCHERS FIC BUT NOPE! NON CON!

"anon filter it out!!!!" I do. I do filter it out. but sometimes they slip past the stupid FUCKING filters cause the author won't freaking use the right tags

can you tell this is targeted twirling my hair

.

[justplainwhump]

Over

Dany is captured by WRU.

A part of Angel's story.

Written for Whumpmas in July @whumpmasinjuly-archive , day 12, Caught.

Content / warnings: Abduction, betrayal, character death, whumper pov, thoughts about noncon, vibes of unhealthy relationship dynamics (m/f).

Had it been up to Frankie to choose the last day of this life, it defined wouldn't have been a Monday. The Hammonds' weekly security briefing was tedious and dull. Especially today. Especially when the sun was shining, especially when his flight to the Caribbean was -

"Frankie." Peter snapped his fingers. "Focus. Look at these photos. Anyone on these shows up near her, you get her away. The Chernovs are pissed because of the boss' latest move, and they won't hold back."

Especially when Frankie knew in detail what - no, who the biggest threat to Dany was today. He had to bite back a smirk.

"The Chernovs won't get to her," Frankie assured, peeking at the clock in the corner. "I'll keep her close."

Josie leaned back and chuckled. "Yeah. We all know just how close she keeps you."

Peter clicked his tongue. "We don't talk about the junior like that, Josie. She's an adult, she's a professional, and so is Francis. When he's listening."

"Yeah. I've got her," Frankie repeated and peeked at the clock on the wall. "And she's going to insufferable when I'm late to pick her up. So. Excuse me."

"Watch out for these guys."

"I will."

He'd been even more attentive than usual, lately, Frankie thought as he jogged towards her office. He knew WRU was scouting them, and he'd clocked some of their agents. Whom he he'd been truly on the lookout for, however, was the principal. The person behind it all. Who paid hundreds of thousands of dollars, to make Danielle Hammond his.

It scratched his professional honor that he couldn't tell. Sure, Stuart Hammond pissed off many powerful players, many of whom would go great length to take it out on his only daughter and designated successor. But none of them would use WRU as a middle man.

And Dany's own surroundings? She certainly came after her Dad, in both business sense and annoying attitude, but Frankie usually managed to keep up with a list of her enemies.

Nobody matched.

Frankie sighed, before he knocked at her door and entered right away.

"You're late," she said, not bothering to turn around from where she stood in front of her cabinet, changing from her elegant business suit into a white summer dress. Frankie was a pragmatic man, but he suspected there was some sort of poetry in that choice on a day like today. "Just in time to zip me up, though."

He stepped in behind her and carefully brushed her blond hair aside, before he reached down for the zipper.

She was gorgeous. Sun tanned, soft skin. The freckles over her shoulders. The fit body, with just the perfect mixture of curves and muscle. His hand rested on her ass just some moments, mapping her shape to keep her in his memories.

All of this would belong to someone else, soon.

"Frankie." She raised a brow at him through the mirror. "We're past this, remember? Focus."

His other hand searched for her hip, too, and he pulled her back against him. She didn't fight it. Fuck. She felt too good, her body pressed to his, just like the many times before. "Come on," he whispered into her hair. "One last time?"

Dany turned her head, and it made him shiver how close she was, how her soft breath caressed his skin. "You don't call the shots, babe," she whispered back, her hand on his cheek. "I do." She twisted her hip out of his grip. "Not today."

He wondered, how it would feel to just take her, right here, in her office. What would happen, if he just grabbed her, hand in that blond locks, tossed her over her own desk and fucked her. She was feisty, but he was stronger than her. Paid to be. He could easily overwhelm her. He'd thought about this, more than once. Never done it. Always let her call the shots. Always let her be in power. What a meek little power that was, though. All deduced, from family, from wealth.

And someone out there was about to do what Frankie couldn't. Strip that off her. That power. That name. That arrogance. All of it. And make her into a submissive little fucktoy.

Oh, he fucking hated them for getting what he longed for.

"Focus," Dany said sharply.

He took a deep breath and nodded. And he did focus. On the smell of her shampoo, on the way her hair tingled over his skin, on the curve of her ass under the zipper.

Focus.

Frankie would become a rich man today. Rich, satisfied, free. He'd just have to make it through this.

"Sorry, babe," he mumbled.

He wasn't.

~

"Why did you say that?" Dany asked, when they were going down in the elevator, looking at him through the huge mirror. "A last time? You usually don't give up that easily."

Frankie had to hide a flinch. "I... Did I really say that?"

She stared at him from honey eyes, eyebrow raised. Expectant. "Yeah."

He hated her. For being gorgeous, for that white dress, for being in charge, for looking right through him. Fifteen minutes. He just needed this to not blow up in his face for fifteen more minutes. Just needed her to trust him for fifteen more minutes. "I... I think we should end this," he said. Improvised. It felt hollow. It sounded real. "It's... It's sort of getting nowhere, right? And I... I think I deserve better."

She paused for a moment, searched his face, before she shrugged. "Okay. Yeah. I guess." She smirked. "It's really been a bit of a cliche, anyway."

The doors slid open towards the lobby, but he couldn't move.

"That's it?" Frankie asked in disbelief. "That's how simple you think this is?"

"Wasn't it always? Come on, Frankie. We fucked. It was fun, it was good, and not gonna lie-" She winked at him. "I did like spanking you. But I mean. It's just sex, right? When it's over, it's over. No hard feelings." She held out an arm to keep the elevator door open for them. "Now. Are we leaving or do you want Peter to cover your shift?"

He really considered it. For a second or two, Frankie imagined going home, having a beer, calling his parents, telling them he'd come back to work in their repair shop. Imagined a life without Dany Hammond.

No.

He'd close this chapter of his life in a much more rewarding way.

"I'm good." He gave her a sharp nod. "Yeah. No hard feelings."

He pushed past her into the lobby, took the room in with a sweeping glance. For a short moment, someone locked eyes with him.

Alex Nadler. That short, awkward WRU client satisfaction manager, dressed just like a businessperson passing by. They weren't awkward now. Their gaze felt like steel.

Frankie shivered.

Move, their lips formed as they tilted their head towards the street.

Focus, Frankie thought.

Focus.

He guided her to the door, just some steps after Alex.

By his side Dany, utterly unfazed by their past conversation, had pulled a stack of index cards from her white purse and skimmed through them, mumbling to herself. She was invited to give a speech at some charity's summer event, just two blocks south.

She wasn't scheduled to arrive.

He walked half a step behind her shoulder, as always, shielded her from behind and towards the street. And as always, his gaze constantly flicked from the surroundings to her. Her long legs, short white dress, perfectly curved ass, blond strands dancing in the wind. People made space for her on instinct, looked at her, jealous, admiring, greedy. And herself - she didn't even notice, deep into her notes, trusting the man behind her to keep her safe.

The man she'd let into her bed, but nowhere else. The man who'd been good enough to guard her, but not to be more than an affair out of dozens. The man she'd led him on, made feel special, and then proved over and over that to her, he was anything but.

A van closed in from behind them. In front, Alex slowed their steps to down to fall back to Dany's side.

Everything was in place.

Dany had no idea.

Frankie smiled grimly.

For someone as savvy as she was, she was pathetically naive.

Then, Alex raised their hand.

~

It happened in seconds. The van slowed by the curb, its door sliding open. Masks. Machine guns.

Dany's index cards silently drifting to the sidewalk. Her white dress still dancing around her thighs, while she stood frozen in shock.

Her first move was for him. A hand, reaching back, to where she knew her protector would be.

Frankie grabbed her waist, a move so familiar he could almost laugh. "I've got you, babe" he mumbled. He could swear that he felt her relax the tiniest bit.

Then he hefted her into the van, right between the armed men.

He jumped in, Alex followed, and the van accelerated, sped off, before Dany had even said a word.

She didn't, still, even when one of the captors took her purse and passed it on to toss it out. Even when another pulled back her wrists and fixed them with zip ties. Even when they forced her to her knees and bound her ankles as well.

Even with a stranger's hand in her hair, a gun to her head, she stayed silent, attentive, aware. Her gaze was on Frankie alone.

And oh. He could drown in those eyes.

When someone touched his wrist, disturbed the image, he angrily flinched. "Sit," a masked man next to him said. "It's getting bumpy."

"I'm -" Frankie grabbed for a hold on the side, just before the van sped around a corner.

"An asshole," Dany said flatly. "I should've known."

Somebody chuckled. But apart from that, nobody spoke.

She didn't say anything more either. Smart girl, he thought. Just as him and the security guys had talked through with her dozens of times. Don't give them anything. Stay calm. Stay alert. Don't fight. Could even have helped, had this been what she probably assumed it to be.

A kidnapping for ransom, for information, for leverage. A kidnapping that matched her worldview. Matched her self image of being the centre of the world.

He idly wondered, what they'd do with that cute white dress. Trash it, probably. Too bad. He'd have liked to fuck her in it.

The van hit a speedbump, another one, and Dany let out a short gasp when the man behind her yanked at her hair trying to keep his footing. The outside noises changed, grew dull, and the van drove into a long, spiraled curve. Parking garage, Frankie thought.

The door slid open, and without spoken commands, their captors emerged into the dark, boots echoing on concrete.

They were alone.

Frankie and Dany, his charge, his lover, his boss. He'd have given his life for her, a long time. Now, he'd sold hers.

She tried to push herself off the ground, get onto her knees again. Under the dim inside light of the van, her dress seemed to emit light. He saw her eyes skim over the inside of the car, the door, back at him, assessing the situation. It was hopeless.

She knew.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why, Frankie?"

"Money," Frankie said with a shrug and crouched down in front of her. "A new life. Seeing you on your knees. Actually, mostly the latter." He reached out and gently traced her cheek. She did flinch now. Cute. "Because you're a bitch, Dany." He grabbed her chin harder. "Because I get paid to see you destroyed."

She stared at him. He wondered if her lip was trembling, or if it was just the light. "It... You know it doesn't make sense, right?" she said.

Frankie pulled back from the kiss he'd just wanted to press on her lips, irritated. "What?"

"That story. You're a loose end. No mobster in their right mind would just let you walk. You betrayed me, you sold me out to be destroyed, but they'll kill you first." She let out a low chuckle. "Oh Frankie. You've always been a fucking idiot."

Fucking bitch tried to belittle him, even at her lowest.

"Oh no, babe." He shook his head. "You have no idea. They're not the mob. They're something else. They just planned to make it look like-"

Dany raised an eyebrow.

Fuck.

Something cold pressed into the back of his neck.

Frankie froze.

"She's right," Alex said behind him, their voice even. "We're professionals. At WRU, we don't leave loose ends."

Dany's gorgeous, brown eyes widened with sudden understanding, her mask of smug confidence finally shattered. "No," she breathed. "No, no, not WRU, not that, not -"

Dany Hammond looked lovely, he thought, when she fell apart.

He held on to that image, as he took his last breath.

---

[Next]

- --

Angel tag list (ask to be added or removed): @whumplr-reader @there-will-always-be-blood @whimpers-and-whumpers @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @risk606

[danieyells]

I find it funny that out of the teachers Dante, who looks like he doesn't give five inches of a fuck, is the most likely to believe one of his students molested the reader. Hyde looks the other way when you tell him about his dorms or brother, dismissing it with a 'I'll have a chat with them later, don't worry' but it is never brought to their ears; Moby feels it for you but him doing anything about it would mean either telling the chancellor and possibly getting his salary reduced or going to hotarubi or obscuary to chew them out but we all know how he refuses to go there; Nicholas, as freaked out as he might feel, excuses his ghoul's behavior saying that they spend a lot of time together and might forget normal boundaries so he will tell them that stripping the patient down bc they were taking a while isn't alright, accidentally gaslights them like, Yuri is only focused on his research and Jiro hardly even cares about staying alive and well!

Dante on the other hand believes fully anything about vagastorm, with how badly he already thinks of them, Leo took a photo while you changed? Believable enough. Sho groped you? Pervert like his brother. Alan cornered you and he had a hard on? He will talk with him. His punishments if it was Leo or sho or even an npc would be a lockdown of RdR for everyone on the dorm. But if it was Alan he might face him and tell him to not waste the chance Darkwick gave him commiting another crime.

He probably doesn't think much better of Frostheim either. Jin and Tohma are trying to 'train' you in Jin's room? Of course they are, one's a spoiled brat and the other is a delinquent. Kaito or Lucas harassed you? Kaito is a pathetic, desperate lost cause and Luca is a foreigner British prone to being inconsiderate by his own admission--no real surprise if they bother you either. The general students are harassing you? They're a bunch of entitled rich kids. Dante 1000% believes anytime someone molests you because he didn't trust them in the first place. Really, he wants better for them but he's never surprised if anyone in his houses prove his judgement right.

Also "pervert like his brother" implies so much that he knows about Hyde like. Do you wanna talk about it, Dante? You just got here yourself what have you seen what have you heard--

But yeah Dante will punish everyone collectively until the situation improves. They will hear from him, one way or another. He doesn't want to go as far as threatening to 78 them but he will if word gets to him that they're going too far.

(You end up feeling an awful lot like Dante is the only person you can trust here some days. He doesn't mind you hanging around the staff room as long as you're working either, so if someone needs you for something that's actually important they can come and ask while he is there. You try and do Dante any favors to show your appreciation and he refuses. He is doing his job. You do yours. There's no need for either of you to get too friendly with one another. The way he keeps you at arm's length reminds you a bit of Alan and the way he doesn't want people involved with him. . .but with the way some of the ghouls mess with you it's kind of refreshing, the professionalism. You never learn anything in particular about Dante--but you still like being around him. As long as you do your job, he doesn't mind being around you, either.)

Nicolas' excuse for not believing that Yuri harassed you is that Yuri acts like a deer in headlights if he so much as thinks too hard about exposed shoulders, so there's no way he sexually harassed you. If he was touching you it was probably for some research related reason. Jiro is Jiro, he doesn't know what he's doing--he doesn't think anything of nudity or certain kinds of physical contact if they can have medical purposes, he surely doesn't even realize he's doing something uncomfortable. Have you tried asking him to stop?

[hold-him-down]

10) At which points are you most scared of your whumper? For leo!

25) Which punishment method do you hate the most? For derek!

from this ask game

At which points are you most scared of your whumper(s)?

"That's a loaded question," Leo says, shrugging. He closes the book that sits on his lap and considers it. "I think Ivan was probably the 'scariest' of my past buyers, because he genuinely did not care if he killed me, or any of the other workers on his roster. It was really hard to nail down what to expect with him, and as soon as he worked out anything of value to me, he would capitalize on it. Simultaneously, he had an unlimited budget for medical support, so even though he brought me to very edge of death several times, and even though he made me wish it would end, there was this innate knowledge that he would be able to pull me back and start over with me. It was horrifying."

He takes a sip of water and stares out the window for a moment, before continuing. "With Parker, he was his scariest when he was stone sober and clearly disappointed in me. Second to that was any time he said he had invited friends over. With Kylie, any time she brought me into her basement, but even then, I don't think Kylie was too bad, especially taking the others into consideration. With West, it was after he brought Will into the home, because there was this underlying worry that we both had, that one of us would upset him and he would use the other to teach some kind of lesson. Any time his son was around was horrifying."

He shrugs again, offering a tight-lipped smile. "With the handlers, everything was uniformly terrifying."

Which punishment method do you hate the most?

"The inmates themselves usually doled out punishment to the other inmates, and so it could get really, really bad if you were on someone's bad side, which I usually was. There was this kind of make-shift cell in the middle of the courtyard, and sometimes they would leave me in it for days. In the storms, in the heat of summer, whenever... feeding me when they remembered, beating me or... assaulting me, when they were bored, no clean clothes, no showers, nothing. Eventually the warden would intervene, and a couple inmates or guards would come drag me back inside and throw me in a cold shower... Those are among my worst memories."