“I can’t believe,” the whumper hisses, reaching down to grab the whumpee’s jaw with hard, cold fingers that dig into their skin, jerking their head back.
BACK AFTER GETTING IN, THANK U MOD RULER, COLLEGE DONE NOW TIME FOR LAW SCHOOL,,, also I made an imagines blog (kimetsu no yaiba, anyone?) while I was waiting for this to open, please check out this? Also, announcements later. Thankks! - Mod Avenger
Beowulf
He’s terrifying. He cages you behind him like some terrible beast guarding a princess in a tower. Of course you are; to him you are kind, your songs like nectar from a flower. He wants to be the only one listening to them, they’re all taking advantage of you that’s why–
You need to be safe. Absolutely. His intentions are pure, all he wants to do is keep you away from conniving servants, those mages who look at you like a lab specimen, your parents who look at you and no longer see their child but a battle-worn soldier, everyone.
Keeps you in line with threats. It’s just verbal at first. Then it escalates when he hits you one day. You look at him with so much hurtand while he hates it, Beowulf notices that it keeps you so much more in line. It helps him keep you in line.
Soon you’ve got a pavlovian condition where the slightest tensing of his arm makes you flinch, as you know what usually happens after that. If you were so docile, maybe we wouldn’t have to be ths way, he thinks. But now, you’re safe. Nobody can do anything to you now. N o on e.
Merlin
Merlin keeps his S/O in line by eternal sleep. That’s the last resort. Second is paranoia, just enough for them to only turn to him, and first, nightmares.
He gives his S/O nightmares of everything they fear. Maybe everyone leaving them for a better, stronger master. Maybe their family locked away by the Clock Tower, their lineage opened and examined. Maybe this time, the clock tower cuts you up and examines every vein and cell.
In those dreams, Merlin makes sure he is the one who saves you. All the time. The Cycle repeats until you can’t tell apart reality from dreams anymore. You’re erratic. Pushing everyone away. Mashu is concerned, but she doesn’t understand. Only Merlin does.
You sleep more and more with Merlin. He covers you up and makes you dream of a world where everything is soft, and whatever you want it to be. A Pokemon adventure? You become a Master with Merlin! Fantasy? Both of you travel! and your dreams turn into days and days turn into years and years turn into decades and decades into centuries but that’s okay! Merlin is with you so (WAKE UP)
“You don’t need to wake up, my little dove. Stay here f or re ver.”
Proto Cu
Okay, so Proto Cu is the younger version of Fate Cu. He has Emer. And Yet Emer can’t hold a candle to you, and neither does Fand, the fairy woman Emer was ever jealous of, who was able to charm Cu.
Cu is chill! That’s a fact. But he gets unnecessarily riled up when you’re involved in the conversation. When other eyes stray to you, be immediately slips between you and them, arm around you and smiling with thinly veiled malice.
He’s one of the more healthier yandere, tbh. Cu is confident in his abilities and looks, so he’s fairly lenient on his victimS/O. He just comes off as territorial, and somewhat aggressive when another takes interest in his S/O.
But when he snaps, say goodbye to the outside world for months at a time. He’s your only companion now. Keep your eyes and hands on him so Cu might forgive you and let you out again.
“You don’t need to look at anyone else, yeah? I’m here. I’ll give you everything to give. Oh, but I’m taking everything you are in exchange, of course. I love you so m u ch after all.”
author’s note: huge thank you to @absolute-flaming-trash for fueling this madness and being an amazing beta ♡
When the Donquixote family took over Dressrosa, you had two options: live and keep your job as a maid in the palace, or refuse and die. You chose the former. Honestly, not much had changed in your daily routine aside from the people you were catering to. They needed to be fed, their linen were to be cleaned then folded and the palace must be kept tidy.
Your coworkers didn’t adapt as easily as you. Two were slain in a fit of rage by the hands of a Donquixote family member over minor mistakes and the rest struggled with daily tasks due to anxiety and fear, which ultimately caused neglect towards important tasks. Tasks such as neatening the library of the palace, a duty that Trebol initially appointed with urgency.
A day after, when you realized your colleagues hadn’t gotten around to cleaning out the library yet, you headed to tackle the job yourself with various cleaning tools in hand. You were lucky Trebol hadn’t killed you and your workmates for not even starting the job yet and you certainly didn’t want to risk your life over it.
Bypassing the entrance of the main quarters where the Donquixote family always had their daily meetings, you continued walking down the left side of the hallway which lead you to the library door. The scent of old books already lingered in the air as your hand reached for the knob, turning it gently and stepping inside room. You leaned against the door with your eyes shut, mentally preparing yourself for the extra work when a voice cut you off.
“You’re late. This place was ordered to be cleaned yesterday.”
Your eyes shot open when you recognized the voice of Doflamingo, who sat in a chair on the far side of the room, nearest a window with the shades drawn just enough to provide light for him to read without straining his eyes in the dimmed lit room. On a table beside him, there was a bottle of wine along with an unfinished glass. Quite the relaxing set up.
Gesturing to a ladder on the opposite side of the room far away from him, you stammered, “Sorry, I’ll get to work over here.“
Doflamingo lifted his head from the book he was reading and looked in your direction, letting out a low hum to himself before demanding, “No, dust those off first.” He motioned toward the area in front of his direct view.
You bit your lip nervously as you hurried towards the bookshelf, cleaning tools rattling against the tin bucket so loudly it rung in your ears. Upon closer examination you realized that all of the books were dusty, albeit in pristine condition. You could feel his eyes on you as you moved. It felt like they were burning a hole in your back, and it made you shudder in fear. All common sense was out the window, you tried to ease the tension you felt by turning on your heels to ask, “Is there any in particular you’d like to read first?”
Doflamingo uncrossed his legs, scanning the shelves as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A low chuckle erupted from his throat, “Fetch the ladder. Top shelf,” he ordered confidently.
Metal scraped against the polished wooden floor as you struggled to lug the ladder across the room, the annoying noise only coming to a stop after you positioned it where you thought it should be. ‘Top shelf is so vague’, you thought to yourself, already dreading the idea of having to ask Doflamingo to elaborate exactly which books he wanted on the top shelf which spanned across the circumference of the entire room. Without question, the man would probably correct you if you chose wrong so you decided not to inquire.
You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as you climbed up the ladder with a duster in hand. The ladder wasn’t the original one designed specifically to accommodate the upper shelves of the library, which was was thrown out after breaking during the palace takeover. The top shelf surpassed double your height, you still struggled to reach the books and with the short skirt you were adorned in— you knew Doflamingo would see your panties if he looked in your direction. It was hard to tell what he was looking at behind those sunglasses he always wore but the thought of him catching a raunchy glimpse of you sent a chill up your spine, one that jolted your body violently enough to threaten tipping the ladder over.
Doflamingo steadied the ladders movement by bracing his foot on the first step, stopping the metal from rattling against the floor as it teetered shakily back and forth. Before you could thank him, he sighed in annoyance and stood up from his seat. The sound of his loafers tapping closer to you was short lived. It was mere seconds before he stood right beside you, looking up with a displeased look on his face.
“I’m sorry I—, I can’t reach and there’s no other staff here for the rest of the—,” you trembled with panic in your voice, watching his eyebrows furrow more with every word that spilled from your lips.
“Tch, quit your damn whining,” Doflamingo snarled, one of his hands effectively lifting you from behind by your ass, making you squeal. Thick fingers pressed against your clothed clit, further securing you in his hold. In a hurry, you dropped the duster out of your hand, letting it fall to the floor so you can scoop as many books as possible into your arms. Doflamingo let you down without a hitch and you immediately went straight to wiping down the several books you retrieved, trying to silence your mind from reminding you of how inappropriately he touched you.
The clock read 10:55 PM when you finally finished working on the books Doflamingo requested. You were exhausted, having worked your regular 12 hour shift beginning at 8 AM before even tending to the library. The books piled high in your arms, stacked from your hips to your chin as you sleepily ambled over to Doflamingo, who just set aside his nth glass of wine on the table beside him.
“Set them down and go, you‘ll continue after your shift tomorrow.”
You were in no position to object, simply nodding and leaning forward to place the books on the table beside him. One of them slipped out of the pile, knocking over Doflamingo’s glass of wine which spilled all over his unbuttoned white shirt. Quickly grabbing a rag from your apron, you attempted to clean the purple liquid from his garment. When you realized your efforts were for naught, you simply froze in terror, avoiding eye contact while you offered your apologies.
“Young master, I’m terribly sorry for my clumsiness. I’ll go wash it right away, sir.”
A devious laugh was Doflamingo’s response. One that shook the bottle of wine on the table and vibrated off the walls of the library. He grabbed your forearm tightly and pulled you closer to his face.
“I’m beginning to think you’re toying with me. Am I a joke to you?” The timbre of his voice was so vile that you felt any answer would be found offensive.
“Since you were kind enough to show me these, I’ll give you one chance to make it right.” he asserted irritably. His free, calloused hand then slipped up your skirt and tugged against your pink lace panties. When the fabric snapped against your skin, the feeling of utter dread sunk in.
“I’m sure you’re not that stupid, go on now.”
You hated what he so casually demanded from you while tugging you closer by your garter belt.
“And don’t disappoint me.” he lilted with firm persistence.
Doflamingo’s words echoed in your ears agonizingly slow along with the heavy sound of a lump settling in your throat. Your feet were bolted to the floor, unwilling to proceed closer to the blonde even though you feared your life would be in worse danger if you didn’t make a move.
“Atta girl,” he urged confidently as you stepped towards him. At the same time, he stood to his full height and looked down on you. You weren’t the slightest bit prepared.
Doflamingo’s cock twitched curiously as you unbuttoned his satin pants, releasing him from the confinement that previously served as a safety shield for you. You knew he’d be well endowed but you still grimaced over his sheer size. He didn’t grant you any mercy, slapping his length against your lips to pry them open. You hoped at any point your pleading eyes would halt him in his tracks. That poor, pathetic look across your face wasn’t enough to save you. Not from this man.
Your head was yanked back by your hair, forcing you to look up at the blonde who smoothly rolled a line of spit off his lips that fell into your mouth. With the quickness, he shoved his cock inside, leaving you no time to adjust. His bulbous tip bullied to the back of your throat, instantly triggering your gag reflex and you sputtered around his length, desperately gasping for air. The struggle didn’t disrupt his motions in the slightest. If anything, it stirred him on more.
The driving force of his thrusts were an awful punishment against your mouth. A stinging feeling grew on both corners of your lips, the soreness only being dulled by the amount of saliva that coated his cock. But after a short while, a heat pooled inside of you that only confirmed one thing: your body betrayed you by finding pleasure in this.
It felt blissfully wrong, swallowing his cock like it would be your last meal, never neglecting the rest of his length by stroking what didn’t fit inside of your throat. Doflamingo lamented in the show you put on for him. Staring up at the man with glassy eyes, you hoped the sight would help him finish sooner so you can be on your way. He didn’t hold back any groans during your ministrations, even going as far as degrading you for being such an eager slut.
Soon, it became hard to breathe. Doflamingo resorted to controlling the pace, swaying your mouth along his dick with a rapid force that shut out all of your senses. Your hands searched for solace near his hips, fingertips grazing the bone with wavering firmness. Apart from hearing his menacing laugh and feeling his balls slap against your chin in an erratic pattern— you were fading out. Face covered in a mixture of tears and saliva that flowed to the tip of your chin and began pooling onto the floor. From his view, your eyes rolled behind your head, vision going black. An exceptional time to make you regret being so weak.
You floated back into consciousness with a stifled, burning sensation in your throat; vision hazily coming back to full capacity at the same moment you realized your nose pressed flush against Doflamingo’s pelvis. He was impressed at the prominent bulge of his cock showing in your neck, though he knew his end was near. The walls of your throat constricted around him in a desperate attempt to search for oxygen, the pressure tightening around his length, pushing him on the cusp of an orgasm.
The air restriction he dealt resulted in a panicked fit. You clawed at his abdomen and desperately tried to push him away to inhale much needed air. Frantically attempting to jolt your head side to side was futile. Doflamingo positioned his hands on either side of your head, fingers lacing into your hair for an extra tight grip. While he drove his cock as far as it could go into your warm mouth, he caressed your cheeks with his thumbs manipulatively. You twitched, saliva bubbling out of your mouth while your face began to turn colors, the backs of your eyes feeling the intense pressure on your skull.
“Mmm, struggle on my fucking cock,” Doflamingo mocked, rigorously rolling his hips. It took less than a few more earnest pumps for his climax to course through him, shuddering as his cum shot down your throat. You muffled a sigh of relief, feeling disgusted by your arousal from this encounter.
To put it lightly, you were exhausted and way overworked. Your legs gave out the instant your lips weren’t wrapped around him anymore, causing you to sway backwards. Doflamingo contemplated letting you fall to the floor but he wasn’t done with you yet. He caught you by your shoulder, shoving you to the side where you landed face first against his chair. Before you could react, his hand was pressed against your back, forcing you into an arched position with your backside facing him. A sharp smack to your ass made your blood run cold and your body tense. He then hooked his finger under the band of your lace undies, sliding towards your cunt until the soaked fabric met his fingertip.
“Now,” he remarked in an insatiable tone, “Time to put this weeping cunt to good use.”
Summary:Killian Jones wakes up from a year-long coma into a world shaken by a plague that caused billions of casualties and turned the survivors into one of three types: Alphas, sexual predators, Betas, human beings as they were, and Omegas, sexual prey.
In his total misfortune, Killian has turned into an Omega and upon waking up he gets immediately sold as a sexual slave to Eloise Gardener, a sadistic Alpha who takes special interest in him.
But he’s soon to learn that even when he escapes the physical prison she keeps him in, his mind is still trapped…
Word count for Ch. 1: ~4.5k
~
Important Notes:
This fic will include: rape and graphic depictions of it, violence, human trafficking elements, forced alpha/omega bonding, forced pregnancy, mpreg, and in general a lot of messed-up stuff. Make sure you’re okay with all these mentioned before you continue reading, and if there’s something specific that may bother you but is not in this list, don’t hesitate to ask me.
I haven’t read a lot of fics in Omega Verse. I looked up some “rules”, and since I’m taking a lot of elements from it, I’m tagging it as Omega Verse, but all in all I’m making my own world here.
There won’t be any animalistic elements other than Omegas experiencing heat, which here basically translates to an intense desire to be with their Alpha.
For the most part there will also be no mention of body changes, but because Mpreg will play an important role here, I’m considering having a male Omega (guess who lol)… go through one certain change. However, it will only be relevant and detailed in one chapter I have planned, which can be skipped and I’ll warn you beforehand.
In general I’m more interested in exploring stuff like rape elements, forced bonding/claiming and forced mpreg, and how all that affects our hapless pirate (who is not a pirate here since it’s a Modern AU, but anyhow). I hope that gives you an idea for how the story will be like.
Again, for any further questions, even ones regarding tagging, don’t hesitate to drop an ask.
Giving my full thanks to this fic, as it was the first one I read in Omega Verse and it inspired me to create and eventually start writing this one.
~
Cold.
Blinding white light seeping through his closed eyelids.
Scent of… of human waste and disinfectant.
A hospital?
A door opening.
Two male voices above him.
“That’s him?”
“Mm-hm.”
“He’s missing a hand.”
“Well, only that.”
“You sure he’s an Omega?”
“Yup. Tested and certified.”
Papers rustling.
“Mm. He’s handsome, but he won’t be easy to sell with such a defect.”
“Shhh. Be careful with your words,” said in a whisper. “He can probably hear you by now.”
“So what’s the story?”
“He’s been in a coma since May 12th 2018. GSW to the head.”
“He was shot in the head? And he survived? What about brain damage?”
“Well, he was in a coma. But tests show he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Since May, 12th, you said? 2018? So, he doesn’t know about the outbreak?”
“Nope. Unless he had some hearing during the first days, you know, with how much people talked about it. Even the nurses taking care of him. But we had no indication of it.”
Killian finally managed to open his eyes. Two men were standing above him, looking at each other. One seemed like a nurse, the other was dressed in black.
“That’ll be quite a surprise for him. And he should wake up soon?”
“Brain activity has been- oh! Speak of the devil!”
The nurse turned to him, noticing that he was looking at them. He fished a penlight from a pocket and examined Killian’s eyes. “Follow my finger,” he said, and Killian did as he was told, still confused and disoriented. The nurse then straightened up, nodding to the other man.
The man in black leaned over him, looking all over his face.
“His beard is freshly trimmed,” the man said.
“Of course. We gotta make ‘em look good, right?”
With a gloved hand, the man in black grabbed Killian’s face and moved it right and left, looking around.
Killian realized he couldn’t move yet… not that he had full comprehension of what exactly was happening.
Noncon stories, Fantasy vs. Reality, and more. fucking. issues.
Recently, I’ve been hit with some drama as to why I’m a “bad person” by various, anonymous users in this fandom. I thought I’d try to address the claim, address my stance on fics that involve noncon, and what I think about the “Tumblr mentality” after everything I’ve seen of this place. I should also note that I’m going to use the specific words and phrases I’ve been forced to constantly repeat as explaining my stance has been very difficult for me, as I’m a person who’s apparently challenging to understand.
This is going to be a long post, with subjects that’s obviously going to trigger people so here’s a warning right now..
That being said, I’m going to dive into this with some shit I’ve definitely said before:
“Consensual Noncon” Kink
The Appeal of this Theme in Fanfiction:
I don’t think calling fics that involve noncon “rape fics” and those who enjoy it “getting off to rape” is a very good way to put it. Many engaging and well done media pieces often involve some very dark themes. Again, Monster by Meg and Dia is a song that features the main character sexually abusing a girl he met. You COULD call this a “rape song”, but acting as if the rape is the only thing that matters in this story would be pretty..naive. The story has to do with an emotionally, and physically neglected/abused boy, who grows up and becomes an attention/love starved monster who’s SO starving for validation, that he believes forcing himself upon a girl he knew would “prove” to himself that he’s capable of being touched and loved. Of course, the main character eventually realizes that rape is not love, that what he did was wrong, and later kills himself in his own bathtub with kerosene and a match.
However, the assault aspect of this song is still a meaningful and alluring part because it talks about how emotional and physical abuse can warp someone’s perspective on reality, to the point where they think forcing someone to “stay” with them is how to create a healthy relationship. That’s the same energy I have for noncon fics, especially in the slasher fandom. Many slasher fics that contain noncon often have to do with the slasher preying on the reader because of their own fucked up mind. It’s intriguing because, let’s be honest, pretty much none of the slashers are in a pretty good mental space lmao. Thus, noncon actually falls more in line with how slashers would go about what they believe is a “good relationship” more often than quite a bit of fans here seem to believe. Again, Michael got boners, Jason chained someone up, Fredddy smooches people against their will, Billy Lenz is a sex offender, Chromeskull makes snuff, yada yada yada, you know the drill. That being said, it’s interesting to see noncon being expressed with these characters because it gives us a new perspective on how fucked up they’d likely be if the world of sex and relationships was introduced to these characters.
Now why would some people become sexually aroused by the events of the story? First of all, how does “Consensual Noncon” kink work?
u/Jumbledcode. (2015). ‘Can anyone comment on why people (someone like me) enjoy rape/non-con story lines?’. r/TwoXChromosomes.
“I’d suggest that there are several factors that make up the appeal of non-con fantasies.
Guilt/Self-image: For many people, their sexual/relationship desires don’t necessarily match their image of themselves, or alternatively they feel guilt over others’ perceptions of those desires. Rape fantasies allow them to mantain some illusion of denial over their desires while still indulging in the idea of them.
Responsibility/Laziness: The appeal of abdicating control isn’t limited to avoiding guilt; it’s very tempting to want a scenario where you have no responsibility for maintaining your lifestyle/happiness. Similarly to before, it’s the appeal of being given what you secretly want without even having to choose it.
Transgressiveness: A rape scenario has overtones of danger and taboo-breaking. These can easily be exciting and can therefore be a turn-on.
Desire: Being wanted is often a huge turn-on, and the idea of someone desiring you enough to break laws and disregard everything to have you plays into this feeling.
To me, it seems that most people who fantasize about being the subject of rape do so due to some mix of these motivations I’ve mentioned. Of course, there are also those who have experiences which have taught them to associate non-consent with their sexuality, but that’s a separate issue”.
What if the Fanfic Only Involves the Act though? Wouldn’t it Encourage Actual Rape?
Let’s differentiate fantasy and reality. Towards those with the noncon kink: it offers arousal because of the ideas listed above (the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). Rape is the use of sex to remove control over the victim’s mind and body. The readers DO have control over whether or not they get to “encounter” (the choice to even read) this fantasy, so right away consent is present in reality, and no actual rape is being done.
Now does this mean that the kinkers are getting off on the ideaof rape? Not really.
The thing with self-inserts is that it allows you to be connected to the story. That way, even if the story has you bruised up and begging for mercy, a part of you-you (if you’re a kinker) wants to keep reading it as you find it exciting. That way, as you and story-you are connected, what you really want in such a fantasyis for it to keep going despite the brutish, possessive, however yet desirednature of the character you’re dreaming about dealing with. (repeat: the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). That being said, it’s still entirely possible for kinkers to have their personal space and wishes crossed, and ultimately assaulted. Us enjoying the fantasy of such a reverie sexual encounter does not spell out to real life because (in reality) we’re not horny allthe time, we would stilllike our bodies to be respected when we find it necessary, and we still have feelings as we’re still human.
“Fantasy (including video games) leads to violence” fallacy.
It would be like assuming that shooters in games like GTA fantacise about murder, encourage it, and would do it in real life. Taking fabricated anger out on virtual bodies or NPCs is quite different from the weight of murder (the killing of another human being). One can play video games with lots of violence towards such fabricated characters, while discouraging violence towards human beings. The act of using a game controller to beat up Donkey Kong in Smash, to shoot Nazi zombies in a Black Ops game, or to kill a Geisha in Little Nightmares is incredibly, and immensely different from completely eradicating the life of a person on Earth, and to assume that everyone who plays violent video games would spill out to violence in reality would be to participate in a ridiculous fallacy. Yes, there are outliers who are feeble minded enough to let their fantasies influence their actions towards actual people, but I must repeat that there are also people who utilize these fantasies for their personal satisfaction, while understanding the weight of the real world around them (and choosing not to act so detrimentally). Therefore, it wouldn’t be fair as it would be unnecessary to blatantly say that all fantasies are horrible and should be entirely eradicated if there ARE many people who ARE aware enough to understand that some thoughts are better off staying in fiction.
Now is the time to address what’s been said:
…Firstly, I think it’s very disgusting that random users, on Tumblr of all places, are trying to manipuate random victims of sexual assault into hating something or someone just because these users FEEL like “it’s the right thing to do”.. People, victims of sexual assault aren’t your fucking dogs. They’re not carriage horses, they’re not your work mules, they’re not your guns and swords…they’re just people who normally wanna be left the fuck alone like everyone else. Plus, there ARE people who have experienced sexual assault who take joyin reading such dark storylines. What would these users have to say to them? That they’re not “real” victims? That what they’ve experienced “never happened”? That they’re “just like” their own perpetrators for using the consensual nonconsent to miraculously help them overcome their trauma? Should they really abandon their coping mechanism just because there are other victims who cope in different ways?
..If you seriouslybelieve that all people who have gone through a traumatic event are gonna cope in the exact same fucking way, you literally don’t even know enough aboutPTSD to even be making a bold statement about cope.
This is the part where I finally realized that people, and especially those on Tumblr, don’t actually care about rape victims as much as they may claim. Many users on here, on this platform and in this fandom, don’t truly give a flying monkey shit about rape victims as people, nor what theyhave to say about the subject. Rape victims..on this place..seem to be used mainly as a means of figurative weaponry for a group’s subjective morality.
I find the similarity close to radical feminism.Radicalfeminists often believe that women, from near and far, have to do everything in their power to “destroy” the patriarchy. This would mean disobeying the societal expectation of women, even if there are some women who take joyment in engaging in some societal standards for their personal liking. An example would be sex work. Radical feminists acknowledge the flaws in performing sex work, but believe that NO woman should EVER partake even if the woman wants to do it out of her own free will. In demonizing and ostracizing any woman who doesn’t fall into the radical feminist agenda, radical feminists actually contradict their purpose to “let women be free”. At this point, you realize that radical feminists often don’t actually give a fuck about what any woman wants for herself. Instead, radical feminists want to utilize any woman they can find just to flip off men as a group.
In Tumblr users trying to “stand up” for rape victims for their personal “holier-than-thou” ego, they fail to care enough about the very people they defend to understand the dynamics of some of their coping mechanisms, thus begin to bully some members of the group they claim to protect because of the very narcissism, misunderstanding, and controlling nature going on behind their own “activism”. So now that some users have found something to hate, in this case being noncon stories, they attempt to manipulate victims of rape into ostraciszing and demonizing fantasies and othervictims of rape just because the “activists” themsleves don’t like it. Even trying to argue that rape victims have a “duty” to agree with everything these “activists” try to do for them.
Soundsawfullyfamiliar to the attitude democrats have towards any minority when it’s time to vote. “I care about you…but you have to agree with everythingI say and believe because Iwant what Ithink is best for you. If you disagree with me, you’re ungrateful and a traitor”.
Now…a little about myself.
I’m not sure of everyone else who’s into the noncon type of story, but I use it to get away from my past. In noncon stories, I wantto read what happens in the chapters. I wantto imagine them for morbid curiosity and arousal I feel at the time being. In reality, my attackers didn’t care when I wasn’t in the mood, and never gave me a choice. In noncon stories, I get to choose the character I wantto encounter in the fantasy and NOT have it picked FOR me. In real life, I didn’t get to choose who did some things to me. In noncon stories, I get to stop reading them and do something else whenever I’m not feeling it anymore. In reality? My attackers kept going because, in the situation, it was no longer up to me. After noncon stories, my body doesn’t walk away with bruises, bite marks, and physical reminders every time I take my clothes off or try to masturbate. In real life…that shit can mark you, disease you, and then traumatize you. With the stories, I get to delete my search history, join another fandom, and act like nothing ever happened. For reality? Your own body is a reminder of what happened because it was real. In reality, I’m NEVER gonna fucking forget what happened. I’ll be lucky if my own mind and body doesn’t haunt me for at least one day..
So seeing that someone, and probably multiple people not only tried to use victims of sexual assault for their own “go get em” dogs, but to try and phrase me as someone who lovesandencouragessuch an assault on human beings? After the things I felt? After the things I tasted? After pathetically searching for the support of relatives, just to get shut down with “you’re lying”?..
…All the times I’ve been held down..threatened..clothes getting snagged off..parts being opened and touched after I’ve fought to just get the fuck away from certain people…
According to this anon…“she likes rape”.
…I guess I just fucking LOVED EVERYTHING THEN.
You know…all my life I’ve been misunderstood by many people. It’s honestly really disappointing that even now when I’m better at explaining myself than ever, I’m STILL being phrased as a “psychopath” by random people who haven’t even taken the time to even knowme. Not even from a minute-long conversation through a damn computer screen. And you wanna know the funny thing? I’m probably being laughed at as this is being read. Some of these users, these internet stalkers, are probably giggling, smiling, and saying “Haha YES we GOT the bitch!! Cry you piece of shit SLUT!!”. So maybe explaining my past experiences to help everyone understand why some people may use noncon stories to their fantasy advantage is gonna land me messages going: “You haven’t been raped you lying bitch”, “Maybe you should get raped again”, “You definitely enjoyed it”, and the overused, yet strong “Kill yourself”.
So how am I gonna end this message? With me saying that many of you, who THINK you’re doing the right thing by justifying harassment and trying to manipulate others into joining your little crusade to bully people away from the fandom (over extremely mundane fucking things)…aren’t really good people. At best, in this case…you’re fucking stupid. You will nevertruly speak for any of the marginalized groups you claim to know like the back of your hand. Simply, you will never. be. a hero.
If by chance, by an astrological chance..that any random user wants to come up and apologize out of the blue for talking such shit and for saying such things..I don’t even wanna hear it…just get the fuck out of my face..
REQUEST:@deerangerHow about Cordell Walker and some powerplay of some sort?? Hell, maybe the handsome ranger runs into a certain supe called Soldier Boy and gets more than he bargained for? Cue smutty smut?? Eh? Ehh??? It can be dark (please?), or plain pwp, or angsty or fluffy or whatever floats your boat… Honestly, I just wanna read about Cordi getting railed.
Characters: Cordell Walker x Soldier Boy
Warnings:NONCON,Dark!Fic, Angst, Violence, Gun Violence, Blood, Multiple Injuries, Soldier Boy is a Bad. Guy., Use of Restraints, Dirty Talk/Language, Smut (GRAPHIC NONCON, Unprotected Sex, Blood, Anal Creampie, Forced Orgasm), Shaming/Degradation
WC: 1541
A/N: It’s a work of fiction. Don’t judge me, I do pretty well with that on my own, thanks. : ) Anywho, you wanted dark…so I give you dark! HEED THE WARNINGS!
Okay oh my god that was dark… Just like the show!! That was very well written, Cordell being desperate as his pain turn into pleasure, betraying him… and how Soldier Boy was outraged Walker didn’t know who he was… well now, Walker certainly does know who he is!!
I’ve discussed modern incel virgin Xiao with a high-promiscuity darling like camgirl but please consider… modern incel virgin Kazuha
//major slutshaming/overall sexist, mentions of depression/mental health, choking
———————————-
Kazuha would be the epitome of the nice boy. Not the “nice guy” that’s not actually nice and is super demanding… he’s genuinely sweet, he doesn’t do things with expectations of getting pussy for it. Maybe hopes, but not expectations. He’s not going to get sour and upset when he doesn’t get it (after all, it’s never worked before), he hides his disappointment with a smile. But… while he’s not gruff and sort of abrasive like other sexually frustrated young men might be, he’s still not the absolute most socially apt person in the world. How else is he supposed to get it? His plan seems like the best possible plan. If you’re nice enough to someone, they will like you, and want to help you back, right? He’s not like those hateful people that blame their problems on others… especially not girls! Girls are so good and sweet, he thinks… he’s one of those guys that pedestalizes them, thinks you can do no wrong (and will that much more disappointed when that illusion is shattered).
The thing is, his sweetness attracts toxicity. You know someone you can step on and take advantage of when you see it, and you lock your target pretty quickly after meeting him. He’s basically the boy that gets “friend zoned,” and you very much intentionally string him along knowing he will never do anything in retaliation. He’s the epitome of a non-threatening guy. You can see the way he stutters and twitches when he speaks to you, the nervousness in his body language. It’s like he’s asking to be used.
Kazuha doesn’t expect anything in return for how nice he is to you. He’s not going to get mad that you didn’t suck his dick for holding the door for you or whatever meme-tier reaction you’d joke about from the nice guy trope. In fact, he does a lot for you, just because he wants to. Your car breaks down and he drives you everywhere you need to go until it’s fixed (or he volunteers to drive you everywhere if he finds out you don’t have one), wakes up early just to come pick you up and take you to your classes or work. He takes you out sometimes and pays for your food and convinces himself the relationship is going somewhere. He sends you homework answers if you’re in school, sometimes just does it for you. You text him saying you’re in a “situation” and need $100 without providing an explanation and he just sends it. He sends you good morning and good night texts, keeps a little heart emoji next to your contact name.
You practically gut his heart out like a fish when you have him pick you up from a house at 3 in the morning… A “friend” (that you went to visit for some reason at midnight), you tell him, and he chooses to believe it because he desperately wants to. You can go to whatever venue of your choice, be it lively nightclubs or house parties with friends (he understands not being invited, he doesn’t know any of them), get blackout drunk and when you call him, he will come get you. Can’t have you driving, so of course he’ll get you.
And because he is so so so so nice, he won’t… do anything. He will take you home as promised. And since you passed out in his passenger seat, he’ll fish your keys out of your bag, pick you up and take you inside, lay you on your bed, check your forehead to make sure you don’t have alcohol poisoning, and then leave.
No, no, not leave, in fact, he will stay there all night, he decides, just to make sure you’re okay. Make you breakfast, since you probably have a hangover. Stay for a while after you wake up making sure you’re okay until your grumbling and glaring makes it clear you want your alone time (and he understands that! No worries, he’s not offended!). Then he can leave. He already emailed his professor or boss to inform them he had something that was a priority to take care of and would be coming in late, so it’s all good.
After all, it’s the least he can do for you, considering how much you do for him. You… Text him sometimes. Maybe one word or so, he just laughs it off, you’re just a short texter is all. You also… Say thanks for all the favors he does for you. Text him a “ty” when he drops everything on the spot to send you the answers to a document you needed for work or school, and mumble some thanks when you get out of the car, but it’s understandable that you say it quietly, since you usually call your friends when you’re in the car with him and don’t actually talk to him. But, ah… you do a lot for him overall. Really.
It’s… quite pathetic, really. So much so that people who know and watch you both pity him, it’s so obvious he’s head over heels and that you could care less. He’s the type of boy to desperately be like “haha we really look like a couple here!” to a photo of you standing next to each other, to tag you and post pictures of you on every social media outlet available to him while your accounts seem to indicate you don’t know he exists.
And sure, yeah, every time he’s taken to the internet to ask forums of strangers for relationship advice he gets relentlessly bullied, called a simp and a cuck, endless disheartening replies like ‘omg she’s not gonna fuck you dude’ and‘she’s using you bro’ and similar things… but they don’t know you. They automatically assume you’re a bad person, he knows that’s not true. If you were, then perhaps that conclusion would be correct, but they’re jumping to conclusions because they don’t know you’re not like that. He helps you because he loves you, and you really do appreciate it, and you like him too, you wouldn’t spend so much time with him if you didn’t…
Besides, helping you rids him off all the guilt he has from what he sees as such grave offenses against you. He’s a thief, after all… he really did intend to return the panties he stole, but he just hasn’t had an opportunity, you started locking your windows and now he can’t get back inside. Now he’s overcome with shame and guilt every single night after he’s cum on them again, he feels so guilty he has to wait a whole half an hour before he can get hard again (as opposed to the usual wait of a mere few minutes). Besides, even worse, now the smell is fading and he can’t go swap it out for another pair. He’s left to just miserably rut into his pillows longing for that same smell again, the poor thing. Wishing you were with him. Thinking about how you’re just busy, otherwise you would be, because you do like him.
He can only maintain it all for so long. Lying to himself and pretending you care. He knows deep down how disposable he is to you.
So at first, when he inevitably forces himself to face the obvious fact that you date and sleep around with a bunch of people who aren’t him… well, that’s okay. They probably knew you first. You’re not overlooking him, it’s just first come first serve… and you’re so pretty and kind, of course you know a ton of people.
…Or they might have pressured you into it. Yes, he likes that thought better – ah, rather, he thinks that’s more likely. He hates people who do things like that. Not because their aggression and initiative is robbing him of something that should rightfully be his – no, not that, he’s not… entitled like that… nor because it shatters his delusion of having his perfectly pureanduntouched love – no, that’s a horrible attitude to have, that way of thinking is outdated and unrealistic, he tells himself… it’s just that he hates to think you’re being made to do something you don’t want to do… especially for, you know, someone who’s not him.
And you go to nightclubs and things like that, but you’re just having fun with your girl friends, you don’t go to get laid or anything like that… maybe that just happens sometimes, you don’t seek it out though… and you probably don’t want to do it with those guys either, they’re just manipulative and pressure you, and you’re just so sweet you can’t say no. How horrible.
But still, you’re at the age where it’s normal, you’re not ready to settle down yet, right? That’s what he keeps telling himself, it would be wrong to be jealous. It’s… the current year, of course you have your freedoms and it’s socially accepted and that’s good, he keeps reminding himself that that’s good… you can sleep around as much as you want… it doesn’t bother him one bit. He doesn’t lay awake at night trying to push the mental images of you moaning and naked for other guys out of his head. He’s a very open-minded person who would never have such an archaic way of viewing things, as to be be upset over it. Never.
And when you mention starting up onlyfans or something… he just kinda smiles, swallows, his hands’ grip on the steering wheel tightens until his knuckles go white. It’s… not that he’s against such a thing conceptually, no, he thinks it’s a great idea! He’s not bothered by the idea of you being naked for thousands of guys to see with permanent records on the internet. B-but… that can go badly you know? Jobs and doxxing and stuff… better to just avoid it, he says. He uses everything his mind can think of to scare you out of the idea. What about crazy stalkers? Someone using images for revenge? You need to be more careful and not follow through with such crazy ideas! It’s for yoursake that he thinks it’s a bad idea, that’s all. Thankfully, he seems to talk you out of it.
That leaves him uneasy for weeks, but what really ends up pushing him over the edge is a rare, rare occurrence in which heneeds something. He got locked out of his own place, and since he lives alone, only you can help him, since he knows you have a spare key (he told you you could come visit at any time, but you’ve just been too busy to do so yet, he assumes). He texts you, but… you don’t answer. He calls you but you let the phone ring. He texts and texts and tries everything he can, but he gets no response from you until hours later, when you finally call him back, audibly intoxicated and not very concerned for his well-being, you sound more annoyed than anything.
You promise to get a ride or pay for an app to ride there, finally show up a grand total of six hours after he was stuck outside… he’s just been waiting all this time. But… he was the one who inconvenienced you, right? So he can’t be mad, he thinks. He smiles and thanks you for your help. And likewise, when you’re so tired you ask if you can crash there, he doesn’t mind at all. Sure. He’ll let you sleep in his bed, he says, and you assume that means he’s taking the couch.
It’s not until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you sleep that he starts to let his mind wander to some darker thoughts… but he’s startled out of it when your phone vibrates. A contact with a seemingly male name, but the message on the lock screen cuts off way to soon for him to make sense of the first few words.
It’s not snooping, it’s just making sure the message isn’t too important. That’s why he uses your thumb to open your phone. You’re really passed out, don’t even twitch as he does so. He’s just checking. Just going to look for a second and make sure that it’s not a family emergency or your boss. Just for a second.
Two. Three. Four. Five seconds. It wasn’t your family. Just someone asking if you wanted to come over tonight… ‘again.’He finds his thumb scrolling on its own. Just skimming through, since there’s a lot of messages. You have a lot more friends than he realized. Friends. They have to be friends… it’s not like you’re the type of person to be sleeping around with more than one guy, even though these are all male names and all left with their last messages to you being anything from hearts to explicitly detailed comments to suggestive reminders and questions about next time. But you’re not the type of person to have casual sex on your own volition, even. Maybe you have out of pressure, but you’d never seek it out. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! He’s a totally open-minded guy, he doesn’t think badly of that sort of thing, it’s your body and your freedom and all but… but… he just… doesn’t think you’d do that. Hopes you didn’t. Knows you wouldn’t.
But the proof otherwise is right in front of his eyes. It makes him feel nauseous. His brain struggles to rationalize.
But rationalize he does. He understands. So stupid of him, he’s been a terrible friend to have not noticed!
You’redepressed.Or, in some other way, just not in a good state of mind.Yes, you must be having a bad time of things recently and not been feeling good. That explains everything, why you’re engaging in behaviors that are so… out of character… out of the character he knows you really have. You’re depressed about something, or perhaps in general, and are seeking out chemical highs and physical pleasures and cheap validation to make yourself feel better. To fill the void in her heart, such are the words that come to his mind, how poetic.
He blames himself for this. He should have noticed something was wrong with you earlier. He should have helped. He feels guilty. This isn’t like you, no, he may not have known you for very long or ever really spent time with you outside of helping you, but he knows this isn’t the kind of person you are! Not that it’s bad, no, he reminds himself he’s not one of those awful people that frowns upon such things, it’s just… not in character for you. You want love, but you can’t obtain it, or have a mental block keeping you from seeking it out. You want to be in a loving relationship, that’s what everyone wants, right? But instead, you feel guilty for pursuing that or something, so you just seek out a cheap imitation of love instead… yes, yes, that all makes perfect sense.
You do care. It’s not that you don’t like him, it’s not that you’re using him, it’s just… you can be a little inconsiderate at times. Selfish. That’s all. But you’re not trying to be selfish, it’s just that thinking of others doesn’t cross your mind because you’re too depressed about something to think about things like that, you’re too consumed by your thoughts. Too lonely. He can’t allow you to be suffering like that on your own!
And now he sees how many signs you’ve been showing, all those little cries for help. He was so stupid to have been waiting on you to make a move, it’s obvious you were trying to prompt him to do so. Yes, all those times you asked to sleep at his place, all those times you were just pretending to be passed out in his car, those were all… invitations, he just was too dense to understand. Sigh. He could beat himself up for missing that opportunity. You’re uncomfortable asking him outright, so you do so subtly. It makes sense now.
But he swallows, he scratches at his throat, he clenches his jaw and fists. He can’t swallow down that seed of negative emotion in his gut. Anger. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. He tells himself over and over. But part of him can’t help but feel mad.But it’s not your fault! You’re probably emotionally damaged, and that’s why you’ve never tried to pursue a relationship outright. Too hurt from all the bad people in your life.
And that’s okay. He can help give you a little push. Make that step for you. He’ll have to make that step for you because you just can’t fucking do it yourself, huh. He’s not good enough for you, is that it? After everything he did?
He has to pause, take a deep breath, collect himself. Remind himself not to be mad at you, no matter how much he wants to be, no matter how strong the twisting, tight feeling in his chest is becoming. He can’t be mad. You deserve empathy and compassion.
And forgiveness. Because what you did was wrong. Ignoring him. Tossing him aside. Sleeping with other men when you were clearly in a relationship with him, even in your own head, and quite obviously to everyone around you. It was wrong. A transgression. He’ll forgive you, but it was still wrong. And you should be sorry.
And you will be sorry.
He knows that people in bad states of mental health tend to say things they don’t mean. That’s why the tape is there on your mouth, to prevent you from saying anything to him you might regret and feel bad about later. He doesn’t want to contribute to whatever complex of self-loathing you might have going on. He tells you so, when your groggy eyes finally open, when you panic at the sight of him straddling your body, looming over you on the bed, you tug against the restraints tying your wrists to the headboard.
He knows you might overreact there too, see. You’re in this… spiral of self-destructive behaviors, and if he calls you out on it, you might feel embarrassed, get defensive, try and hit him. That’s all. But he made it as comfortable as he could, using tape there as well, and not metal. He makes sure to ask if it’s pinching your skin though. Just nod or shake your head.
He apologizes to you first. Says he understands now. He should have noticed before. There were so many red flags! After all, you were… so mean to him lately, ignoring him more, backhanded insults, looks of disgust, not returning as many texts as you used to. If only he’d known that it was just a defense mechanism! It would have saved him a lot of hurt feelings too, but more importantly, he could have helped you sooner.
And he knows you’ll be resistant, people in need of intervention usually are, they lash out against the very people trying to help them. He knows you think you want to go to school or work or wherever your daily routine takes you, but he won’t allow that. Clearly, that has been a source of unneeded stress – and undoubtedly, that’s where you’ve been meeting these guys that take advantage of your poor decision making and manipulate you into sex. He knows. He read them all. You’re so naive, to not see how they’re using you! Sure, you can claim it’s “consensual,” but can it really be called that? You’re so lacking in self awareness that you don’t even realize the real reason you’re doing it! You want someone who will really love you. You want him. He knows you just don’t get it, you think that the multitudes of casual hookups is what you want, but it’s not. You’ll see. You’ll be so much happier with this. They were taking advantage of you. He knows you would never, ever consent to something like that if you were in your right state of mind… which is why you definitely aren’t. So just trust him. He’ll make you happy. He’ll take care of your every need. You don’t have to do a thing. See, even those people that dare call themselves “doctors” wouldn’t give you what you really need… only he can do that.
But he’s still so, so, so sweet about it. Kissing your mouth through the tape and saying it will be okay. Just let him have this. You’ll feel so good. You’re trembling so badly. But you’re certainly not afraid of this since you decided to go out and be a fucking whore – ah… what he meant to say was, since you’ve had experience… even though that’s not your fault.It’swrong, but not your fault. So really, what this means just confirms his suspicions… you could only be trembling out of fear, and what you’re really afraid of is intimacy,vulnerability. You’re scared of this with someone you really love, someone who cares about you… it’ll all be okay. He’ll keep kissing your face and holding you so close throughout.
You’re still so tight. It feels so good. Hah, see, all those guys on the internet that told him it would feel loose were wrong, it’s so good. So good he forgets to keep rambling about helping you. So good he loses himself in the feeling, so good he forgets he intended to be super slow and gentle. Well, whatever, passionate gets the message across better anyway, doesn’t it? So it’s okay that he just lets loose, digs his fingers into your hips to pull you closer with each slam of his hips. It’s okay that he gives in to those darker urges, the ones he’s always felt ashamed of and tried to keep at bay, lurking beneath his gentle demeanor and laid-back smile and soft-spoken voice. Wrapping a hand around your throat. Somehow, his face looks like the same soft, sweet boy as always, the only trace of the sadism beneath is the faintest glimmer in his eye. Likewise, the way he speaks seems so soft, and yet his words – you’re so pretty like this – seem so wrong as he’s gripping his hand hard, watching your eyes go wide and your body writhe with the deprivation. So beautiful. Breathtaking. He was afraid to come out to you about liking this (he imagined the scenario in his head many times, planning out how to go about it once you were dating), though you’d find it weird or creepy, but the way you clench down on him when he tightens his grip (ignoring the unrelated other muscle spasms throughout your entire body) tells him you enjoy it. Just like all those girls in the porn he watched, the ones he sought out specifically because they looked like you.
Yes, you do enjoy it all. The way your little cries and moans underneath the tape made him shudder, the way you clench down, the way you finally, finally spams and convulse underneath him, milking him dry at the same time. He’s glad. He tells you you have to keep the tape on a while longer, but reassures you that there’s nothing wrong and that he’s so glad this all worked out for you two. He tells you you did so good. You made him so happy.
And he will make you happy, too. You just need to give it time.
Summary: With no other way to get to practice after Tsukishima’s car breaks down, Kyoutani is forced to take the train every day. And the girl with the garter belt tattoo caught his eye. Pairing:Kentarou Kyoutani x f!Reader TW: public sex, non-consensual touching, pussy job, thigh fucking, angry businessman, it’s not milk. Word Count: 2.1k
a/n: Part 3/3 of the Incubus!Futakuchi mini-series, This one contains dark content. If you prefer not to read dc, then 2/3 was the happy ending :)
wc: 5k
Tags/tw: noncon/dubcon (coercion), sacrilege, cockwarming, spit, aphrodisiacs, overstim, implied somnophilia, cucking, asphyxiation, demon/human sex, rough sex, unprotected sex + creampie, implied pregnancy risk, mild angst towards the end
“Fuck’m gonna miss you.” Kenji mumbled, gazing up at you with half lidded eyes. His lips found the swell of your breast, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there.
“It’s just a few days.” You sigh, shifting in his lap. You felt him twitch inside you, and repress a moan. “I can’t exactly bring my parents here, so I have to go to them.”
No you could not bring your die hard catholic parents to your apartment where you lived with your hell-born incubus boyfriend. You’re dead certain they would spontaneously combust from the sheer notion of such a blasphemous union.
