#implied rape tw

[arcxnumvitae]

Part 4

Apparently, that man was his father. The very same one that his mother often spoke about? It didn't seem so. The man his mother talked of apparently smiled often and was jovial and good-natured. None of that seemed to fit his father.

There was father, his father's wife-- the "mistress"-- and their son, his brother. Or something like that. As his father had explained to him, he was something of an accident. No one had planned for him to exist.

"But I suppose I can find some usefulness even in accidents," he had chuckled quietly as if he'd told a particularly funny joke. It didn't feel very funny to Mhoirbheinn. As his father explained it, children where they lived, a place named "Unseelie", were rare. They were called fae, and fae had difficulty having children. Humans could conceive easier, which was how this "accident" had come about. It all made his head spin.

"I have only one heir, and my wife thus far has been unable to grant me another." The man's slender hand rose to remove the covering from his face, revealing cold and dignified features that sent a chill running through the boy. He already looked disappointed in him, like he'd measured Mhoirbheinn up and already found him lacking. The covering was set on the desk as the man rose and walked around it, towards him.

"If anything should happen to my son, that would be the end of our family line, and that cannot happen. So I suppose you can consider yourself a spare." Cold eyes stared down at him as the man came to halt right before him, another quirk of his lips lifting at another "joke" of his. "Should anything happen to my heir, I have another through you to keep this line of nobility in existence. You will be taught everything that you need to know should that unfortunate day ever come." The man's sentence trailed off into silence and he heaved an annoyed sigh. "Do you understand?"

Mhoirbheinn jumped, "Y-yes!"

"Good," his father waved a hand. "Your lessons will continue. You are not to enter the manor unless summoned, I would rather not have to reveal a child birthed by a human to the other nobility unless I absolutely must."

At this expectant silence, Mhoirbhein knew what to do. "Yes sir."

"Good." He turned away and strode back to his desk, picking up a small bell and ringing it. The door behind Mhoirbheinn opened and the servant from before stepped in and began to usher him out. Just as the door closed behind him once more, Mhoirbheinn glanced back to find his father back at his desk, mask affixed to his face, and working once more as if he'd already forgotten his second son's existence entirely.

#{Mhoirbheinn Drabble #yeah okay content warning tag incoming #implied rape tw #because of course with Mhoirbheinn's mom being a glamoured human servant and all... #feel free to ask to tag in any other way

[cycle-verse]

Tw: Overdose, implied rape

Nightmare slammed his books down, eyes wide, “Holy shit! Killer!”

Killer was nearby, and looked at Night, a little bewildered.

“I think I’ve figured it out!”

"You did?" Killer was obviously surprised, but fairly excited.

“I did! Oh god, this could be it! I just need to-“ and then Night’s face twisted in horror. “Nononono! Killer, I need you to tell him the truth and hurt him. If he hurts people, run, please!”

"No, n-no, please don't go!" Killer moved to hug Nightmare, wanting him to stay.

“I'm fighting I swear. Kills I love you so much… I promise I’ll come back, I won’t let him hurt you anymore, or Dust or Horror! I won’t!”

Killer nodded, "I l-love you too-"

“When he comes back-“ Night crumbled more and took deep breaths, “Kills, warn everyone you can!”

Killer nodded, "I-I will, I will Night-"

Night's hands shook and he stumbled away from Killer.

“I don’t want him to come back-“ he sobbed, sounding so defeated.

"I know- I know-" Killer wished he could comfort Night, but knew that it could lead to himself getting hurt, or worse.

“I love you,” Night whispered before his body went limp, head rolling back as his knees buckled underneath him

"I love you too-" Killer let out a sob before quickly going to find Horror and Dust.

Malevolence just lay on the ground. Night had certainly tired him out enough to give Killer time to get away.

Killer was more focused on finding and warning Horror and Dust that Malevolence had returned, so neither of them slipped up.

Horror and Dust were both upset but it only got worse when Malevolence finally got up.

“I’m going out! We’ll continue our discussion from before once I’m back!”

"Where are you going?" Killer obviously wanted to make sure it wasn't to bother Ink and Error.

“I’ve been gone for what, a week? Two? I want to see how the little birdy is doing,”

"Why don't you just leave them alone for a bit-"

“Because I can! I can bother them and I will!”

Killer swallowed a bit, knowing that saying what he was about to *again* was a risk, "Even if I was pregnant? You'd rather fuck around with them?!"

“We’ll I can’t fuck around with you anymore! That little dog has made it obvious!”

"Then just fucking *stop* for a minute," At that point, Killer was getting more pissed than anything, which tended to be dangerous with how strong he could be normally.

“No. You have NO right to tell me what to do!” Malevolence lashed his tentacle out and it landed right beside Killer's head. It would have killed Killer if it had been any closer.

Killer barely flinched, still pissed as he watched Malevolence go.

“I’m leaving,” Malevolence opened a portal and stepped through

~~~~~

By the time Malevolence had come back, Killer had just decided to hide in his room, not wanting to look at Malevolence or anything with what he was doing.

Dust came running to him a while later.

“He took Error,” his voice cracked.

Killer sighed slightly from where he was curled up in bed, "Damn it-"

“Killer… he’s… he’s gonna really hurt him. He’s bragging downstairs… I don’t know what to do… it’s not just hitting him either, he’s gonna…”

Killer quickly stood up at that, "I'll see what I can do."

“Just umm… Errors old room isn’t soundproof… just a warning,” it was obvious Dust had heard something before he’d run to Killer.

Killer nodded, leaving his room to go confront Malevolence, even more pissed than earlier.

There was yelling the closer he’d get to Error’s room, alongside sobbing and threats.  Malevolence, luckily, hadn’t seemed to have done anything yet.

Killer didn't seem to care, slamming the door open and looking straight at Malevolence.

Malevolence turned from Error and sighed. “I should have known you’d try to weasel your way into making a mess,”

"You're the one that started the mess. Leave him alone," Killer decided a smart thing to do was to summon a gaster blaster behind Malevolence, hopefully above Error.

Malevolence snarled.

“I’m not afraid to hurt you Killer, or your brat-“ he tensed up and sighed. “Okay so threatening the soul I apparently can’t do, but I WILL do what I need to to keep you out of the way,”

"Then let him go."

“No chance,” Malevolence sighed and left Errors side, wrapping Killer up in tentacles, squeezing tight enough to warn him

At that point, Killer set off the blaster, not caring much if he hurt himself in the process.

Malevolence, who had picked up Killer fully by then, stumbled and dropped Killer before catching him by his arm.

“Pesky little shit,” he hissed and began to march back down the hall

Killer tried to get away once he was let go, even with a fall, but it was obviously to no avail, and he instead tried to struggle against Malevolence's hold.

Malevolence grinned and kissed his head before throwing Killer into his room.

“I’ll have one of the other pests bring you food,” he said before slamming Killer’s door shut and locking it.

Killer didn't bother moving for a minute once the door was locked but ended up curling up.

It was obvious Malevolence left again, he didn’t pay Killer another thought

After quite a while, Killer decided to get up and tend to whatever injuries Malevolence had caused.

Malevolence had definitely caused a few although he left Killer’s abdomen and stomach untouched

Killer was glad about that, and afterward, curled up again, still on the floor, but in a different spot.

A few hours later there was a knock on the door and then it unlocked and a plate was slid in before it was locked again.

“He’s not letting us go in… but I brought you a book too… something to do,” Dust whispered

Killer nodded slightly, which Dust obviously couldn't hear or see, before letting out a soft sob.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Dust asked

"P-Painkillers..."

“I can get those,” and Dust did, coming back with them a little while later.

"Th-Thank you..."

“Of course,”

Killer managed to get himself over to the little pile of stuff, working on eating the food first.

At some point, Malevolence was heard in the hall but he never came too close to Killer's room

After eating, Killer pushed the plate more toward the door, taking the painkillers and the book to sit against the wall next to said door.

The hallway sounded busy, which mostly meant Horror and Dust were just walking around

Killer didn't mind them, their presence was just a little comforting, but he ended up opening the painkillers and dumping a few into his hand, which was too many for him.

No one outside knew that but they’d easily be alerted if he needed anything.

Killer decided to down what was in his hand, which wasn't a good idea, and closed the bottle before opening the book, hoping what he did would work how he wanted.

At some point Malevolence passed by the room, and by then, Killer could barely keep his eyes open, and Malevolence could sense that he wasn't holding up well after his overdose.

It caused Malevolence opened the door in a hurry

Killer was semi-responsive, though not as much as he should be. The souling was alright though, his body doing what it could to keep it alive.

Malevolence cursed and scooped Killer up, “Shit,”

The cause was easy to figure out, with the bottle of painKiller's on the floor next to him, and Killer couldn't really hold himself up in Malevolence's arms.

Malevolence stared at it and then at Killer, “Shit.”

He had no idea what to do

Of course, it was hard to know what to do, especially since Killer was the only person with enough medical knowledge to fix such a thing, and also the supplies...

Malevolence looked around for anything he might find to help solve this.

It wasn't hard to find a few notebooks, with a few different titles on the front, along with some medical supplies hidden in his nightstand. One of the notebooks was basically filled with all types of medications and what they did. The second page explained overdoses and how to fix them and gave a page number for what needed to be administered.

Malevolence flipped through all of that and then looked for what he needed to fix it.

Luckily, it wasn't hard to find. Everything was actually well labeled, and some syringes were in a little box for safekeeping.

Malevolence sighed in relief and moved to administer it to Killer.

It wasn't long after that Killer's breathing started to stabilize and get stronger, and he clenched his fists.

Malevolence sighed and hunched over.

“Damn it… stay down,” he hissed to himself.

Killer made a slight noise, starting to get more responsive.

Malevolence sat on the floor, holding his head

After a minute, Killer sat up... kind of. He wasn't exactly the most stable, with his magic now depleted, but he also didn't care.

Malevolence was arguing with himself, although it was actually with Night.

Killer ended up managing to dig through his nightstand, soon pulling out a bottle of magic boosters and squinting at the label.

“No…”

He looked at Nightmare/Malevolence, "Hmm...?"

“No… you can’t keep-“

“But I’m in control. You agreed to keep me in control if I let your three live their lives mostly fine. I let horror eat and dust sleep and you don’t fight me-“

“Hurting Error wasn’t part of the agreement-“ Night was breaking through with Malevolence.

Killer half listened, but went back to squinting at the label of the bottle he was holding, though slowly leaning to rest himself against the bed.

Eventually, Malevolence stood. “Are you better now, dear?”

Killer had started to shake a little, "I don't... r-remember... how many to t-take..."

He definitely needed the magic boosters, but he was struggling to see, or do anything other than lean against the bed.

“Let’s start with one while I read this okay? One to start and I’ll figure it out,”

Killer nodded, managing to open it and take one before offering Malevolence the bottle to look at.

Malevolence read it for how much and handed him whatever he still needed to take.

Killer took that too and let out a breath after.

Malevolence sighed.

“Don’t do that again or the dog will kill me,” he grumbled. “And not literally before you get fucking hopeful.”

"I w-won't... that fucking-" Killer suddenly gagged and moved to cover his mouth for a second. "S-Sucked..."

“Yea, that’s expected.”

Killer nodded before moving to lay on the ground, "J-Just gonna... stay here f-for a bit..."

“Sounds good dear,”

Killer nodded again, closing his eyes as he lay there.

Malevolence sighed. “If I let you wander, you can’t do shit or I will lock you up whenever I’m busy,”

Killer didn't respond, more tired than anything else after all that.

Malevolence scoffed and walked out of the room.

Killer didn't move for a few hours, which was probably a little concerning, but everything seemed alright with him otherwise.

Dust at some point has come to sit with him

For once, he was relatively peaceful, which was helped by his not quite being asleep, and didn't really notice Dust come in.

Dust just kinda sat at the foot of the bed.

After a while, Killer moved a bit, turning from his side to his back.

Dust stared at him and sighed, moving to help him onto the bed to be more comfortable

Killer quickly grabbed the front of his shirt to stop him, "Don't... d-don't..."

“Hey… hey what’s up?”

"I am n-not up... for being m-moved..."

“Okay. Do you wanna a pillow? Make you more comfortable?”

Killer nodded slightly.

Dust moved to pull down the pillow from his bed

Killer let him, lifting his head enough for the pillow to be tucked under.

Dust sighed and tucked it under before sitting next to him.

"Th-Thank you..."

“Of course…”

"I am... s-so tired... but I c-can't sleep..."

“That’s okay… I know…”

Killer nodded slightly, moving to rub at his face with his hands.

Dust just stayed beside him.

After a minute, he opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling, still a little dazed.

Dust watched him quietly

Killer didn't say or really do anything, seeming lost in thought.

Dust didn’t mind, he felt safer here than he did in the halls.

"Maybe I should... k-keep looking over m-mental illnesses..." In his spare time, Killer liked to learn anything medical, and his recent thing had been mental illnesses and such, and ways to help treat them.

“I don’t know you’re good to be studying right now,”

"I'll c-close my eyes if I'm n-not... just... let m-me try..."

“Okay,”

"Grab me a... a book, p-please...?"

Dust moved to do just that.

Killer waited patiently, taking it once Dust offered it to him.

Dust sat beside him again once he did.

Killer opened the book to quietly look through it, pulling out a notebook from nearby to take notes in.

Dust still sat nearby.

Killer didn't seem to mind, preferring the company as he quickly read and wrote.

Eventually, Killer closed the book and his eyes.

Dust didn’t mind

Killer sighed softly afterward, "Maybe I should try to sleep..."

“Sleep if you want, I’m here and you’re safe

Killer nodded slightly, "Thank you again..."

“Of course,”

Killer set his book and notebook aside as he lay there, and after a while, he seemed to be asleep.

Dust smiled and pulled a blanket over him

Killer didn't seem to mind, surprisingly sound while he slept.

Dust smiled and sunk back to sleep where he sat too, almost guarding Killer

At some point Horror had walked in and fallen asleep near the door.

Killer woke up again a couple of hours later and glanced around.

Both were still asleep, and Killer didn't mind, picking up his book and notebook again to get back to it.

The boys were both sleepy but the second there were footsteps outside, they woke themselves up.

Killer turned to look at the source of the footsteps.

Malevolence stood in the doorway.

“I’m here for medical equipment,” he hissed.

“Oh no! What did you do to poor Error,” Dust hissed

"That's a good question, so I know what equipment..." Killer moved to set his stuff aside and sit up.

“It’s nothing big, it’s more for me, he ripped off a tentacle and scratched my arms,”

“And well deserved.”

"Do you need stitches...?"

“No, but he might if he’s not fucking careful.”

Killer sighed and pointed to his closet, "Grab yourself some bandages..."

Malevolence nodded and sighed, “Oh, and I probably injured some part of Error, but he wouldn’t let me see-“

“Probably because of what you did! He just got married you asshole, you sent me to clean him up after the first time and all he wants is to be with his husband and kids,” Horror snapped

"All of you shut it..." Killer rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "He doesn't trust you with any of his injuries..."

“I know but you took too many fucking drugs to be of any help didn’t you?” He sighed.

"I can try, at least... I just don't know what kind of injury it is..."

“Well, neither do fucking I-“

“Maybe it's because you, I don’t know, force yourself on him you fucking dick!” Dust snarled.

"What did I just say...?" Killer sighed.

“Sorry Kills it’s just… I hate this.”

Killer looked back at Malevolence, "Do you want me to try and do an examination...?"

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

Killer nodded, using the bed to help himself stand up, though he was a little wobbly.

They would have quietly watched him, Dust moving to help him if needed

Killer did need help, likely to fall otherwise, but managed to get to the room Error was in with said assistance.

Error was curled in the corner of his room, dressed, fortunately, although very shabby. “Killer?”

"Hey... you hurt...?"

“Killer he… he…” he started to sob and started to drag himself towards Killer, not really moving his legs

"I know, I know..." Killer quickly moved to kneel next to Error so Error didn't have to move. "Where are you hurt...?"

Error looked up and then looked down. He didn’t want to say where. “It hurts…”

“No! Nonononono!”

"I can't help if I don't know..." Killer offered a comforting hand.

Error started to cry.

“No… no you can’t… you can’t see it,” he whispered. “Just take me out of here, please.”

"I want to... I really do... I'm so sorry..."

“I need to get home… I have a toddler, Pic… please…” he was shaking and there was a fracture visible on his leg but it was likely that wasn’t his only injury.

"I know- I know, but he'd probably kill all of us- including you..."

Ink suddenly opened the door and yelled, “Ruru!”

Error looked up, “Inky?”

“Gotcha!” Ink was suddenly grabbed by Malevolence.

#ink #ink sans #ink!sans #undertale au #cycleverse #error sans #error!sans #nightmare #nightmare!sans #killer sans #killer #cycle!killer #cycle!nightmare #cycle!dust #cycle!horror #cycle!ink #cycle!error #overdose #overdose tw #implied rape tw #implied rape

[spicywhumper]

whumpee thinks they're broken and dirty and disgusting after everything whumper has done to them. then caretaker comes around and shows them that they're not. they're loved and beautiful and amazing. and intimacy doesn't have to hurt, it's healing and lovely.

#whump #whump community #whump blog #whumpblr #romantic whumpee x caretaker #implied rape tw #about some of my whumpees: she's just traumatized please a beautiful lady help her relearning what sex actually is

[mahvaladara]

Yosef punched him repeatedly on the face, enough times for Arlo to be dazzed off as he worked on ripping open his shirt and pants.

Yosef: You’d actually be pretty, if you weren’t so disgusting.

Arlo felt blood mixed with warm tears as he struggled under Yosef, his thoughts clouded and dazed, paralyzed by fear. What was happening to him? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Why was he doing this to him?!

Arlo: Let me go! Let me go! I’m sorry! It was just a joke! 

Yosef: Oh no. I’ll just be punishing a racist, homophobic, basic rotten bitch.

Arlo: Yosef! No! Stop! Yosef! This isn’t funny! I’m not Apollo!

Yosef: Shut the fuck up!

Yosef slams Arlo into the floor. Pain exploded in the back of his head and his senses were assaulted by the smell of rot. He could feel Yosef’s hands on his and it was as if they were burning into his flesh, going down into parts no one touched, parts that hurt and bled.

Arlo: I’m not Apollo! I’m not Apollo! I’M NOT APOLLO! 

Arlo was crying. He didn’t want this, this hurt. He didn’t want this.

Arlo: HELP! ISAIAH! HELP! HELP ME!

#sims #sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #ts4 #ts4 story #the sims 4 story #ts4 gameplay #the sims 4 gameplay #the imortal #gen 1 #arlo #yosef #abuse tw #bullying tw #implied harrassment tw #implied rape tw

[thegreatstrongbow]

Ask under a read more because it’s trigger warning everything and also long

@cuilpantielthesleepyscribe​ said: (Canon x Good Lady AU, random horror/gore idea I sincerely have no idea where half of it came from, other than the inspiration of this being anon ask Hostia threatening to come back again and rip the last of Beleg and Pan's kids out of her)

In his dream, Beleg walks up to a strangely familiar rural manor house, well-kept and recently renovated. It's dark; no one seems to be home.

The doors open at a touch. Beleg walks inside. It is eerily silent, eerily well-kept. Its inhabitants might have left a moment ago, or disappeared; candles still burn along a single, obvious path.

He follows the path. Soon signs of a struggle become obvious; streaks of blood and broken furniture. Someone - multiple someones - at least one of them extraordinarily strong and motivated, fought here. Here someone crashed into a chair; there someone was thrown hard enough to break the doorframe.

He goes deeper into the manor. The first trail of blood, the first path, leads to what is obviously a nursery. A cradle and a small child's bed stand ominously empty, large bloodstains in the centres of the mattresses. Upturned furniture and bloody footsteps - those of a grown man or ellon wearing boots, and what seems like the footsteps of a baby but for the distance between each step - show signs of further struggle, as they go from doorway to wall, from wall to bed to table, and then finally to cradle.

Finally there are only one set of footsteps; the tiny footsteps have disappeared, turned into dragging streaks leading out of the room.

It leads to what seems to be the master bedroom, and the streaks end in the middle of the floor. A small, dark-haired Mannish woman is sprawled bonelessly there, her sightless gaze turned to the bed, her long hair half-fallen from its pins and spread around her. She looks eerily like a certain scribe Beleg knows. Her stomach is still swollen under the stiff bodice of her blue gown, but her sleeves and skirts are shredded, and between her spread legs is nothing but a bloody ruin, red liquid soaking her and her gown from knees to waist, a pool of it around her; too much for any human to survive. Now the source of the streaks, the earlier tiny footprints becomes obvious: her feet are unnaturally tiny, her once-fine silk shoes soaked in blood. There's odd blotches of blood, short streaks here and there; the backs of the heels had obviously been dragged across this section of floor, leaving further bloody streaks only a few inches long, as though she had struggled and been jerked along the floor while already lying down.

The booted footsteps pause between her legs, back up and disappear briefly, before resuming and leading to an armchair in the room. Sprawled in the armchair is a tall, heavyset Man, dirty blond, the former strength of a prolific hunter and soldier gone to seed evident in him. His face had once been handsome, but time has given him wrinkles and dragged his cheeks into jowls, and some unknown injury gives his gaze a strange disconnection, as if not entirely cognizant of the world around him. The malice in his expression remains clear, however.

In his left hand is an unidentifiable, gory mass, flashes of tiny white bones and a fleshy cord the only hint of what it might have once been. In his right is a silver dagger.

"I warned you that I would return."

(Is dream!Pan alive but in shock? Did Hostia finally discover the point of no return for exsanguination in vampires? Does it have to make sense? No one knows)

It is familiar and it is not. The silence sank into his skin. Even before his feet led him up the stairs, he knew something was wrong. The smell of blood was acid sharp. It reminded him of a hunt, of a butchered animal. But he did not need to see anything to know that what he feared was true; this was not animal blood.

Instinctively, as he entered the nursery, he reached for his sword. Anglachel felt heavy in his hand. Wait. Was that sword not lost? He did not remember having it with him - but he drew it, the black blade seeming to hum. Bloodthirsty. His mouth felt dry.

The sight of the cradle made his stomach churn; if his feet had obeyed him, he would have burst into the bedroom in that moment, and slain whatever beast lay in wait. But he found he could only move slowly, like trudging through thick snow. Nausea rises up in his throat. He crushes the feeling down. He must know. He must. He didn't want to. But he had to.

The woman is so familiar he almost burst into tears right there. But no; the ears, the dress, the feet - it's not her, but it is her, he's not sure he's even him now. His eyes take in the scene. Anglachel murmurs for blood. A struggle. A child. No more - she had been pregnant? And yet there was more blood here than he had ever seen a person lose. It could not all be hers. Could it?

Gradually, his eyes followed the path of the boots. He did not know what he expected to see. Surely, a man could not have done this. Surely it was some monster with the feet of a man.

The older man in the chair was not familiar. But the hatred in his face was and Beleg felt reflected back in him, as he raised Anglachel, urged forward by the sword. Or was it his own rage that powered him now, rage and grief that threatened to tear him apart from the inside. He did not know who this man was, or why he had done this.

But he knew he had to die.

#please heed the tags #blood tw #violence tw #miscarriage tw #gore tw #child death tw #answered #good lady au #cuilpantielthesleepyscribe #beleg and pan cinematic universe: horror editon #heavy gore tw #i think i got them all #death tw #implied rape tw

[koteocannibal]

Vent

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Do not repost anything.

#vent post #dark blog #abuse tw #dark content #emotional abuse #dark art #vent blog #cw vent #toxic characters #venting #Implied rape tw #toxic relationship #proshipper dni #anti proshitter #proshitters dni #fuck proshitters #My trauma is not your kink #I shouldn't have to worry about you sick fucks jacking off to my trauma

[lathal]

You know, I really wish the Haarlep stuff was handled differently. While the player knows that the bathtub will heal the characters and restore their spell slots, I don't think the characters themselves would? All they know is that this fight with Raphael is going to be really hard, and that a fight with Haarlep beforehand could weaken them. The consent is dubious. It'd be nice if one of your companions approached you after you did it and asked how you felt about it, and then you had different options along the lines of "I feel really violated" or "I feel great, I had a good time". Then if you say you feel violated, they'd try to console you somehow or something. As it is, everyone just ignores it except for sometimes Astarion, who may bring it up days later.

#implied rape tw #ooc;; #just throwing shit out there

[nerdpoe]

Part three in Coffee, Honey, and Sometimes Hazelnuts.

In Gotham, after Dick learned of Tim's transition from Alpha to Omega in a very badly worded way, how was he handling it before Jason confirmed that Tim was fine? Well, the short answer is he wasn't.

#implied rape tw #referenced rape tw #blood and violence #dick is perhaps just a little murderhappy #omegaverse #platonic omegaverse #i don't understand DC timelines and i've decided I don't care #Coffee honey and sometimes hazelnuts #fanfic

[whumpinwriting]

April 25

(I think. I think I lost track of a few days somewhere…)

today she told me she’s pregnant. It’s mine. I’m the one she chose, after all. It’s all according to plan. I should feel honored, she says. To be selected as the superior specimen for her eugenics program.

I don’t know how to feel. I want to hate the baby—it’s the product of violence, of slavery. But I can’t deny the way my heart leapt inside me—

Maybe I’m too far gone

No…it’s an innocent child. It has nothing to do with this. no guilt. Tainted by association with her? Perhaps. If she gets to raise it, she’ll turn it into a monster, like her. That’s why—I can’t let her keep it

But what can I do? Trapped here… can’t even defend myself, much less defend a small child. Will she let me help raise it? Will we be a bizarre family… she’ll draw me closer to her. make me complicit in my slavery. Make me enjoy it…. As she already has.

But even worse would be if she denied me any contact with the child. I already feel a draw toward him or her. I want to see them. Hold them.

God, help me.

#Non-con #male rape #pregnancy #implied rape tw #slavery #eugenics

[protectthevulnerable]

@storyofwhoiam​

          Jodie's eyes widened at the suggestion, something about it distressing her. Her face and posture fell, eyes dropping away as a heavy frown brought down her lips. She shrugged. Maybe it would help and Marie would let Jodie see her friends. Part of Jodie didn't even want to go back to Marie, let alone have her encroach on her own friends. But if it would help...

          Tears welled in the girl's single, uninjured eye, but pawed at both of them. Why was she so upset? Marie cared about her and she'd get to see that Franky and Bridget were nice. Despite her clearly upset reaction, she nodded, knowing that it logically sounded like a good idea.

#storyofwhoiam. #replies. #muse: jodie s. #character: bridget w. #character: franky d. #verse: tbd #implied abuse tw #implied rape tw

[deadsetobsessions]

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU