#possible noncon

[yanderemommabean]

Andy going into rut though. Reader is just trying to get him to calm down after being so aggressive to the other staff and he just corners you into the stall, chuffing and snarling, demanding that you remove everything you have on you, because none of it smells like him and he hates that anything else has it's scent on you. You're bent over the hay, breathless, leaking, begging to be given a break and the hybrid simply yanks your hair and tells you "You can take it. You're a big farmer, aren't you?" and just makes you take every inch he has to give again and again and again.

You think that afterwards maybe he'd get it out of his system, but no, you're curled around and brought to his stall, where he rubs his face against you and growls when you try to pull away, scenting you aggressively while debating on filling you up one more time, you know, "for good luck"

-Mommabean

#yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere exophilia #my ocs #mommabean #Andy my oc #Andy the bullman #yandere hybrid #yandere dubcon #possible noncon #idk id let andy hit it #yandere lemons #yandere smut

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Deliciously Dark! Aemond x Oc (Snow falls) Chapter one: Untamed Winters.

CONCEPT: You are Willa WyldeWoods, daughter of the second biggest house in the North. Your father has guests begging him for his support. Aegon and Aemond are here to find allies, with Aemond taking a interest in you because the books didn't mention you at all.

WARNINGS: Beheadings, dark, dub-con, forced marriage, spoils of war, non-con, dark! Aemond, also kinda hatred to Valyrian people which can be considered, in a way, as discrimination.

You have always been a daughter of the North. You were born during the deadliest winter and during the heaviest snowstorm, the North had ever seen.

You came into this world like you were already gone. You had a faint heartbeat and kept your eyes closed. You didn't cry. You were silent like the grave.

Your mother and father's masters tried everything. They ran out of options very fast. Until you suddenly cried out, and your heart started to beat louder. It hasn't stopped beating ever since.

But no one knows what or who saved you. Until now.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Years later....

You are enjoying a cup of warm tea. Your maids just arranged your wardrobe for the new season, selected the old dresses that you became too tall for and threw them out. There is a big pile of silk, linen and other dresses piling up by your door.

Your mother never would even come into your rooms. 'Mother? Is everything alright?'

'Put on your newest dress. The one with the pretty flowers. We have guests coming soon, and you need to be dressed appropriately.' She eyes your maids before heading off.

Your handmaid goes to work and dresses you in a light green silk dress with pretty flowers. You don't have much jewellery but you do take out your pretty necklace with a golden locket and your favourite pair of earrings.

Downstairs is a mess.

Servants run across the halls and try their best to fix everything up before the visitors come. Tables are decked, plates and silver are polished and dinner is being served for starved guests. It looks like it will be a King's meal.

Your father smiles at you.

'My dearest and only daughter. Willa.' He says and takes your hands into his own. He smiles at you and you hug him.

Your oldest brother Brand returns from scouting. 'They'll be here soon.' He announces. He laughs when he sees you. It's a pleasant laugh. 'My dearest sister has become a woman.' He says surprised and you hit him on his arm playfully.

You hold your breath as the doors open. You expect House Stark. You are met with someone else. A Man, with tired eyes and a green with a black coat. He nods his head to you. 'House WyldeWoods. May I present; His royal majesty: King Aegon II? And his brother, Prince Aemond Targaryen?' Your father smiles when the two follow them.

One is dressed in green. One is dressed in black. One is dressed for parties. One is dressed for combat.

The green-dressed man keeps a crown on his head. You understand he must be the king. His eyes are tired. Sick maybe even. His silver hair makes his skin even paler. He scans the crowd, eying your lady maids like they are some delicious snack he can't wait to taste.

Your father stands up and slowly but carefully makes his way to the prince. 'You are far from home.' He says, his voice deadly and sharp. He sounds displeased.

The Prince keeps quiet when his king speaks. 'We are. We heard there is trouble brewing in the North. We came to see for ourselves.' You aren't sure what to make of it only that you find it incredibly stupid. This could very well be a trap and they'd be dead.

Your father laughs a bit like he is educating two little boys. 'There is not just trouble brewing in the North. There is trouble everywhere now.' He looks at Aegon with blame and hatred.

The older man interrupts and takes over the negotiations.

'We came here to ask the support of House WyldeWoods. Can we count on you? You are the second biggest house in the North. We can use an Ally against the Starks.'

Against the Starks? Your family always fought beside them. Not against them.

Your father smiles, looking at the king. 'I'm sorry, my Prince. But you know I can't. I swore an oath to serve your sister.'

'She is a whore.' The king simply says like that explains his motives and why he would be a better ruler.

The snake smiles. 'Surely we can convince you somehow?' He asks sweetly. When he and your father monologue you feel the prince eye you. A lot. You feel his gaze go over your dress. You never had that kind of attention before.

Your father notices very easily and looks irritated. The prince doesn't seem to notice that he has been caught.

Your father groans. 'Is the view to your liking?' He spits out. You feel a bit embarrassed that your father berates the prince like this. He is dangerous. So is the king.

The prince nods. 'She is interesting. I didn't find any traces of her when studying your family, Lord WyldeWoods. She wasn't even mentioned. We never got an invitation to her name day Ball either.' You know why exactly.

A name day Ball is the perfect opportunity for a proposal. And your father wants to keep your lineage and his lineage pure. No Valyrian blood will mess with it. It's why he didn't send the invitation.

But if the Hightowers and the Targaryens gave a damn about the North, which they don't: they would have noticed much sooner and not years later.

Your father lies very smoothly. 'My little Willa is not fond of big parties. She wanted a small gathering with her family.' It makes you sound like some sort of lonely castle-kept girl. Like you don't have any friends.

The prince nods. 'Of course.'

The snake laughs and it doesn't reach his eyes. It is a calculated creepy laugh.'Your daughter is of marriage age?' Your mother gently and subtly grabs your hand and squeezes it nearly breaking your bones. You know just like her what's next.

A proposal.

Your father is aware too. 'She is. What about that?' He asks, suspicious and his eyes narrow.

The hand nearly jumps up and down. 'Excellent. We can become allies. Aemond here is unwed. So is Willa. He will take her as his wife and in return, you will support us with banners and men.' He makes it sound so simple. Except it isn't. You are sworn to Rhaenyra due to your father's oath.

Your father seems to have trouble understanding the new match. 'Willa? My Willa? With a Targaryen? A Valyrian?' He stutters out. You don't like that idea either. 'Piss off! Get out of here. You are not even fucking my goat and certainly not my only precious daughter!' He even grabs his sword to make his point.

The Prince takes out his sword as well and levels it at your father. You quickly intervene. 'Father, put the sword away. It was just a suggestion. Please? Let us remain civil.' You beg.

Your father obeys. 'You won't marry any WyldeWoods. You will go home without her. You sure won't touch her. If your funny Targaryen Incest-loving cock comes near my daughter, I'll chop it off.'

Aemond is enraged by that but keeps civil. 'We will remain here for tonight's feast. We may not be allies but we don't need to become enemies now, do we?'

Your mother nods.

'Help yourselves. There is plenty of food for all of us.'

The next morning you are awakend by the sunlight. Very unusual. When you leave your chambers still wearing your robe you find a deliciously big Banana cake waiting for you. You gasp and jump up and down in delight. Banana cake.

You are delighted.

Banana cake with chocolate dripping. Just like when you were a little girl. You smell the heavenly smell.

You decide it won't hurt to try a piece. 'I heard it is your favourite.' A voice suddenly rings out behind you. You tremble and slowly turn around still licking off your fingers dipped in chocolate.

The prince. How did he get in here? Where is your guard? It feels very wrong. Especially since your hair is a mess and you still are in your nightgown.

'It is. How did you get it here so fast?' You ask and can't help but a little impressed. The cake tastes so good as well. Whoever did it is an amazing Baker.

Part of you is insulted. Did he really think you would marry him because of a cake? Another part of you finds it so sad. He is used to buying his friends.

You also know what will happen if you accept it. He will feel entitled to you and will maybe even force you. 'It's a lovely gift. But I don't think father will appreciate it.' You say gently picking the words. You don't want to insult him. You are alone with him and he carries multiple weapons.

The prince sighs but gives you a small smile. 'It's not for him. It's for you. I know you like banana chocolate cakes.' This is not about the damn cakes anymore. You want to run away and don't feel comfortable that no one is with you either.

Your father will never agree to this match. 'You don't eye me as a bad man. But daddy doesn't like...' You swallow a bit. 'Uhm none northern men?'

There is a small mocking smirk on his lips. 'You can say Valyrians it's fine.' It doesn't feel fine. It feels unfair.

'Fine. He doesn't like Valyrians. He despises Targaryens especially. I wish I could show him that not all Valyrians are rapers and thieves who burn down our cities but-'

'Well with your ancestor being celebrated everywhere it is kind of hard to forget.' You finish your sentence dryly.

'I should go see my Septa. She is probably worrying about where I am.' You get up.

He mirrors you also getting up. 'She is fine. I assure you. Sit down and drink with me.' He points to a bottle of wine just waiting to be served.You flush. 'I don't want to bother you...' You don't care about bothering him. You don't feel comfortable drinking with him.

Your feet take off and you rush to the door leading to the hall.

The door is locked.

You hear a soft chuckle in your ear. 'I didn't say you could leave just yet. But if you want to; I will not stop you. I think you will regret leaving this room. I think you will wish you never did it. But if you must: I put the key on the table. It's your choice.'

There is a faint smell of iron in the air. You follow it curious. Until you come out by the kitchen. A guard in familiar targaryen uniform is busy arranging orders. 'Please. Let us check in on her lady..' A familiar voice begs the guard. You see it's the Bertha. Who always cared for you when your mother couldn't.

'Prince Aemond is handling her. She is spoiled. No need to worry about her. Now get back to work. These skulls won't impale themselves.' The guard casually presents her with a freshly beheaded head and a big kitchen knife. You back away and bump into the prince.

He grabs you gently and takes you with him to the kitchen. Making sure you see everything. There are some girls half undressed sitting on the ground clutching at each other. One girl is held down when two guards take turns. 'Let them stop,' you Growl at Aemond.

He sees it differently than you. He is fine with it. Or pretends to be. 'It's punishment and part of sacking a castle. It's unpleasant, but they can cut her tongue out if her moans irritate you.' He suggests but he already knows you won't be that cruel.

You go the two men.

'I am lady Willa of House WyldeWoods and that is my servant girl. Get off of her-'

One of them grins at you.

'What if I won't, little lady? Will you beg your prince to make him stop me? Maybe you'll end up getting your cunt fucked as punishment too.' He looks over at Aemond with a grin. 'Is she fucked yet? I would know if I were you. There is some space over in the hallways. Take that little lady bitch and make her scream.'

You hear Aemond's chuckle.

Something snaps. 'Get off of her. Last time I ask.' You say very calmly and collected. He gets off the girl and before he has even processed what happened you have kicked him so hard between his legs that you are sure he won't touch a woman in weeks.

You find a knife, on the table near you. So you use it.

You drive it through his throat, repeatedly stabbing him. It sticks out a bit before you pull it through entirely, making the man bleed out on the spot.

The other soldier turns on you enraged. You try to get the knife back but it's too late for that. You can only back away. He is suddenly knocked on his head with a rolling pin before he collapses to the ground. You rip the knife lose and quickly stab him in the heart. There is a thin line of blood coming out. Bertha looks at you, rolling pin still in hand. You rush over to her and have the awful feeling you forgot something.

Until you hear a soft cry and look at the girl that was hurt by the two guards. Aemond is with her now, a dagger against her throat. His only good eye is fixated on you, there is anger and aggression in it. You carefully lower your knife and shake your head.

He grins at that like an animal.

'I don't like you hurting my good soldiers.' Aemond says his voice distant and enraged. You don't have time to beg before they drag her away from you.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #Aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #Dark Aemond Targaryen smut #Aemond one eye fanfiction #SnowFallsAtWyldeCrest #dark! #head the warnings #dubcon #possible triggering content #She/her reader #AFAB Reader #DarkFantasy #Possible noncon #Possible gore #Old work

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

TW: Yandere; Implied Kidnapping; Forced Breeding Kink.

You know how in the punishments scenes, the yandere always goes "For each spank you fail to count, that's 10 more."

Now imagine a yandere with a massive breeding kink who warns you with a huge grin on his face that for each established rule of his that you break, it adds up one more baby to your tab.

You think he's all bark, no bite. That he's bluffing with you, scare you into submission.

But by the end of your first year with him, the yandere casually reminds you during dinner that you owe him 7 babies.

6 babies actually, he corrects himself.

Baby no. 1 is already on the way.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #tw: kidnap mention #tw: forced breeding #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: implied noncon #and the tab keeps getting bigger #every year he adds more 3/4 #you're can't possibly give him many kids #he knows that #but it's fun to mess with you

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee shivers and shakes on Whumper's lap as they cling onto them. They have tears of pain in their eyes and the grip helps. Whumper shushes them and runs one hand through their hair. It's weaker than the normal pets because most of their attention is on the knife carving a name/initials/symbol into Whumpee's back.

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump prompt #whump tropes #creepy whumper #conditioned whumpee #intimate whumper #creepy/intimate whumper #abused whumpee #sadistic whumper #noncon body modification #pet whump #possible pet whumpee?

[leakyweep]

Doflamingo x Reader - Walk Home - NSFW

Warnings: dark content, dub con, possible non con based on readers perception, gendered nicknames (princess, darling), doffy getting reader intoxicated with the intention to manipulate, penetration, cream pie, coercion, manipulation, doffy manhandling, doffy in general

MINORS, DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

It had been a long night at the bar; from the way you had danced like your life depended on it to get you through your tough breakup, the blonde, tall man who'd approached you with such a grin you thought he'd eat you whole, the drinks he had you guzzle...

Now, you were sitting prettily in Doflamingo's lap, shrouded in shadows at the back of the bar. His lips engulfed yours in a fiery, passionate kiss, his hands running across your skin in a rough snare that was enough to entrap you in his charm. His words were as sweet as honey while he promised you all the things you could want in the world if you'd just let him have you, to keep you for only himself.

"I know it sounds selfish..." His lips danced across the skin of your neck, breaths hot against your ear, "I just can't help myself... and think of all that's in it for you, princess. Anything you could ask for, it's yours." The curl in his lip, the gleam in his eye, it made your stomach churn... deep in your chest you felt dread, as if this man would bring you trouble.

"I... um..." You were flattered, truly. However, you had just met the man! You couldn't just be whisked away by him, no matter how much you wanted to. You had a life, a job; you couldn't just go missing... or could you? "I just need some time to think."

You couldn't cogitate clearly right now, neither with him sitting so handsomely under you nor with the alcohol coursing through your veins, brain dizzy and vision a bit hazy.

The way his smile fell, the way that shine in his glass-covered gaze blinked out, the way his fingers gripped the skin of your hips as if he were angry at you declining... it made your guts churn, heart beating faster.

Almost as fast as the grin was gone, it was back, as if it had never disappeared. He nodded towards the bar while taking your dainty hand. "Then why don't we have another drink, and I’ll make sure you get home safe? You seem to be quite inebriated, and I'd hate for such a princess as yourself to be taken in the night."

If you weren't so damn drunk you'd decline him again, but you couldn't argue with his logic. You were in no state to trust a walk home by yourself. Besides, it was only a five minute walk back to your apartment.

Doffy held your waist steady to stumble over to the bar, order you another drink, and watch your lips wrap around the straw. His mind was swimming with dirty fantasies, his mind made up on what he'd do with you once he got you to say yes to him. Or not; it didn't matter to him. You'd submit to him somehow, this was just the easiest way to a non-violent outcome.

The way his gaze bore through you, as if he were gazing upon a fresh meal, ready to devour any second, it made a fire light in your core. You tried to swallow the feeling, push it deep down because you don't know what this dangerous man would do to you.

Your clothes were forgotten, thanks to Doffy, who had laid you down in your bed before leaving. He insisted he stay for a few minutes to make sure you'd be okay...

"Your body is so beautiful, darling... gonna use it, gonna make it feel so good..." his tone was opposite from his sweet words, low and sultry and preditorial. Your eyebrows knitted together, legs closing against his touch, your nerves on fire. You couldn't say much. Words slurred into one another, eliciting a small chuckle from the tall man as he peeled your panties off.

"Puh-please- I-" you were cut off by a hand around your mouth, fingers gripping against your hair. The sensation was enough to pull a moan from the back of your throat, nerves on high alert from the intoxication.

"Please, what? Use your words. You want me to keep going, right? Want me to make you feel good?"

His words were drowned out by the vodka clouding your thoughts, your eyes, your sense of good judgement. Hands were getting closer to your wet heat.

You couldn't help the buck of your hips, the mewls leaving your lips as he continued to cover them. His laugh reverberated against you. You had no choice but to submit, pinned under his weight and convinced by the alcohol that you wanted this.

You nodded furiously against his palm, your mind and body completely consumed by him now.

His movements were firm, unyielding to your squirming and whining to line his thick, veiny cock up to your pussy, his tip collecting some of the wet that had pooled at the bottom of your slit, drooling onto your bedsheets. His thick swollen head was enough to make you mewl, his length even more impressive. It lulled you to drawl out his name, and he grunted as his hips pressed yours against the bed, affixing your body there.

With a strong grip, he held your biceps down to the bed, as if he could never let you escape his grip, lest he lose you forever. When he pulled his cock out to the tip, he paused for a moment to leave a bite around your nipple and make you grunt his name. He then slammed his hips back down, a loud slap reverberating around the room, accompanied by a pitiful symphony of moans and sobs.

"Doesn't that feel so good?" After waiting a moment for your answer and being met with slurred syllables, he grabbed your chin with rough hands and began to pound into your weeping cunt at a merciless pace. He was like an animal in heat, needing anything to satisfy his hunger. "Hey- I asked you a question, princess. Does. it. feel. good?" Each word was punctuated with a sharp snap of his cock.

Your pussy was on fire. He was drilling into you furiously, like you were the last thing on earth he’d ever fuck in his life. His palm landed a loud smack! against your thigh, which was followed by a moan bitten back by his bony fingers in your mouth.

Your mind and body were at war with each other; on the one hand, the fire in your core was growing stronger with each thrust, each filthy, dirty word uttered from behind that shit-eating grin; on the other hand, your brain was telling you to stop, that this was wrong, that he coerced you into this.

The feeling of his head poking your pulsing walls was heavenly, his face carved in the moonlight like a marble statue. He was a handsome man- a handsome man who would take what he wants, when he wants it. And he was doing exactly that.

“D-D-“ Each time you tried to utter his name, you were met with a hard thrust. Your pussy clamped around his dick, pulsing walls beginning to give in to orgasm. You heard him chuckle, removing his fingers from your mouth to pull your hair downward, forcing you to look at him while your climax hit you. “Cumming-Fuck-“

Your body racked with twitching, his cock slammed deep inside as he spurted your insides with his creamy cum. A whine escaped your sore throat weakly, tears brimming your eyes and a thick ring of your cream wrapped around the base of the King’s length. Your vision was white around the edges, pupils dilated as you looked into his lusty eyes, brows furrowed and muscles spent.

“See, princess? Felt so good, right?”

#dub con #dubcon #dub-con #tw dubcon #tw dub con #tw dub-con #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader smut #one piece #op #doffy #liv writes #dark content #possible noncon based on reader’s perception #cw dub con #cw dubcon #cw dub-con

[spacebubblehomebase]

Helllo i Love your art more than i love donuts and thats ALLOT.but my boy lucifer can have babys,like i dont even know how that works!make it make sense! I just wanna say thank you again for curing are boredom👍🏻

You are SO right that is high praise indeed! I'm honored! =D So here. Have a donut! 🍩🍩🍩 As for Luci, let us turn to the world's favorite 700k+ words old man fanfiction that is The Bible (tm) as according to their lore, it's been canonically stated that angels are genderless for they are beings made of the Pure Holy Spirit and- Holy SHIT! What do you know??? Our dear depressed duck dad was an angel himself and in some depictions Lilith is infertile as was her punishment for her freedom! The more you know! -Bubbly💙

(LMAO. My guy's been traumatized. Once is enough XD)

#In some beliefs it's also said that angels are asexual until they become fallen and mate with humans #spacebubblearts #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #TAGS FOR THE CATHOLIC FANFICTION INCLUDE: #major character death #accidental baby acquisition #surprise pregnancy #author's first language isn't english sorry =P #anime logic #qustionable magic system #slow burn #TW: period typical racism #TW: depiction of sexism #TW: slavery #open ending #no beta we die like Jesus Name Amen #graphic depictions of death #resurrection AU #TW: mass genocide #mythical creatures generator #possible noncon romance #age difference #cursed #blessed #hurt/ comfort(?) #Top 10 anime betrayals #700k+ word count #First written: B.C. and Last Update: A.D.

[vvienne]

I literally woke up in the middle of the night like God will dark rise is so fucking screwed. The line that’s like. “Everyone wanted to kill the Dark King.” What’s the part where he looks at Violet helplessly, haunted, almost pleading for mercy? But of course he reveals nothing of substance to anyone. Elizabeth is too young to understand but the reader knows what “Her relationship with that boy was…unnatural” can mean. Tying him to bedposts? Failing to strangle him? What else? Never not even once seeing beyond a mythological identity Will himself didn’t know he had? What did he think was the reason? That he was just intrinsically hateful? Of course he says nothing. Of course Violet can’t trust him- he’s given her nothing as painfully real as what she’s given him. So he gives her the sword hoping at least he can die at the hands of someone he loved, but even that doesn’t work out - she gives the sword to a Visander still furious at SARCEAN. The pattern continues; no one looks at Will, who vomits when he realizes what’s happened to James, Will who is much of a liar and killer and sneak as Elizabeth accuses but nonetheless wants to be different. Even when he doesn’t remember his own past. There’s no way out for him that doesn’t hurt. Hope this obsession passes soon given the one and a half years of waiting required for book 3

#dark rise series #dark heir #rarely does a cliffhanger pain me so much #bc rarely am I ever THAT invested in a plot I am sad to say #nona the ninth was so cathartic in of itself I’m content marinating before alecto #BUT PACAT ONLY EVER GIVES EMOTIONAL CRUMBS #have any of these bitches ever known peace fr #maybe this is what reading princes gambit and not immediately having the follow up might’ve been like #honestly it’s possibly damen and Lauren just generally had less problems tho #more than his relationship even with James. will/Violet is perhaps the genuine source of like. I WISH HED GIVEN HER A REASON. #the narration that describes Violet as Will’s star in the night…….. like fuck fine #will can’t reach any level of genuine intimacy with James bc the mess of fraught noncon dynamics is this massive unspoken horrible thing #wills identity is personal w James in a way it is with no one else but James is so fucking oblivious of undercurrents it comes unbalanced #and will knows it. but (as far as we know) violet isn’t reborn has no history with sarcean the dark king she’s literallt just Some Guy #and that almost makes it worse???????? that they are so loyal to each other even as he’s keeping a massive secret? #they weren’t dated or destined to entangle the way will is w characters like James and Katherine #and I think that makes his rship with Violet possibly the realest and truest experience of trust and love will has ever had #like it’s nothing bro. truly she knows nothing about him other than his lies of omission and her faith in him goodness which may or may not #beiltimately justified. but that was probably as honest and close will ever got to anyone. and him to her.

[threadsun]

Alan going into rut every July-August. He gets more aggressive, more possessive, more obsessive. He's almost feral with the need to breed, to mate. He's just so desperate to keep his Doe Eyes with him, to lay claim to them, to knock them up. He goes on and on about how they'll have babies in the spring while he uses them like a chew toy, making sure they're marked up so everyone knows they belong to him. He's so insatiable that they spend his whole rut too exhausted to do anything but let him use them. And when it's over, he coddles them even more than usual and insists that they need to take it easy for the next nine months.

#my dear hatchet man #mdhm #Alan Orion #18+ only #sunshine #idk if this is what I'll keep my hatchet man tagging system as but I figured I needed Something #shockingly this is my first ever proper hatchet man post??? #also the noncon/dubcon possibilities of this are Very Enticing... hmm...

[doggobrie]

Sketching and thinking about season 6. Castiel bringing Sam back from hell but realizing too late that she brought Sam back without a soul. Specifically after sleeping with soulless sam kind of too late.

#spn #sastiel #sam winchester #castiel #tw noncon #tw dubcon #I know this scenario would be kinda noncon but THE DRAMA #also possible reasoning for Cas ghosting Sam for like a year #sorry if this is rough I’m kinda sleepy #sastiel yuri

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Dark! Aemondx reader

Five elements part 2♡

Warnings: Not so feministic Aemond, abuse on the half blinded (Aemond) smut and kinks definitely some praise kink mc, they all need therapy, spankings and implied martial abuse. Non con kissing and willingly for other things. Incest as Aemond is sorttaa related to baratheon (is he? *music stops*) and incest and also dirty daydreaming and fantasying .

Taglist: @iiamthehybrid @winxschester

Concept: Aemond comes wife hopping at Storm's end and you and your sisters are first getting tasted before he makes his choice. Very sub mc and dom aemond but also aemond with her sister's and mc watching.

Robert: I hate all Targaryens

Aemond:

Robert; he's cool tho

There is a brief moment before panic erupts under all of you. Your mother comes over as well, horror written across her face. 'Prince Aemond, I must insist that you behave yourself under our roof. These are my daughters, and your future wife is among them. You will not taste them, and you will most certainly not question their innocence.' Your mother wants to do even more like smack his head against a wall and yell at the prince, but your father calls her back, horrified and embarrassed. 

You realize your mother is about to be punished. He has not done that in years. The last time was during a supper. He grabbed and dragged her away to their bedchamber. You heard about what husbands do with their wives when they are disobedient. 'Elenda, get here.' He does not even yell. Your mother freezes up at his strict voice.

Aemond's lips smack, in amusement and cruel sadism. He is like a little boy who gets told by his father that he is right to bully his siblings. 'Seems like you got yourself into some trouble, my lady.' He mocks her openly. 'Do not worry about your girls. They are in good hands. ' He says with a cold smirk. Your father drags your mother away.

The prince walks over to the throne not long before sitting down on it. One of the guards, you know him as Edan Stone, is brave enough to confront him. ‘My prince, that seat is not yours.’

The only sound the Targaryen prince makes is a soft chuckle. ‘You must not be aware of how politics work. Well, what do I expect from a mere soldier? You never had a proper education. You would not dare even question my motives if you did.’’ His voice is much sharper and becomes louder with every passing word. Ellyn reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly when softly muttering that she would like to go to her rooms again. You agree. Everything is better than enduring this. 'now leave us all.' The guards leave the room.

The prince cocks his head at her, noticing her tears and her trembling hands. He has the smile of a wolf who sees a deliciously easy lamb to rip apart. ‘You, get here.’ He is not just calling her over, he is commanding her. Maris shakes her head at Ellyn but Ellyn does not have her courage. She slowly makes her way to Aemond.

You can see the jealousy in Floris’s eyes grow, just as her smirk as she thinks of a clever little plot. You and Maris share a glance and seem to think the same. ‘Princess Rhaenyra was allowed to sit in that chair, when she had her suitors come over. I am sure that father would not mind sharing his seat with his future son in law.’ Floris speaks, quickly interrupting Aemond and trying to steal away the attention from her sister. Aemond sinks back in the chair, resting his arms on the armrests. He forces his head against the back of the chair and gestures for Ellyn to come closer.

She hesitates. He chuckles before getting up. ‘I do not think I have ever been denied before by any woman.’ He ignores Floris and by his smirk you can tell its on purpose. He grabs Ellyn by her waist, ignoring her protests and whimpers when he is a bit too rough. He forces her head closer to his own and kisses her on her lips. She tries to break free desperately as if she is a bird in the mouth of a cat. You watch, frozen when your sisters are fed up with Aemond. Ellyn catches her breath and he uses that opportunity to force his tongue in her mouth. He grabs her chin and holds her during the kiss, so she has no chance of escaping.

Once he is finished, he drops her as if she is nothing, moving on to his next target. It is quite amusing watching him count you and your sister and realizing that one is missing. It is even more amusing when he realizes someone has snuck behind him, and you are laughing when Maris smacks him across his arrogant face, leaving a good red mark.

Ellyn uses this to escape and rushes to your side across the room, before crying out in your arms. She probably imagined her first kiss differently.

Cass takes the pitcher from the servant and fills her cup before raising it to Maris. Floris looks horrified and tries to earn his love by rushing to his side and offering her help and support. You are the only one staying far away. ‘Get off of me, wench.’ He groans at Floris as she touches his face. She obeys him, shocked that she is for once not the thing everyone wants.

‘You,’ he sounds even more hateful than before. Maris makes a curtsy and lowers her eyes but they are twinkling with mischief. You release a laugh. The prince’s head briefly snaps towards you before glaring at you. You stop laughing. Cass stops drinking and watches the exchange between the two of them, worried. 

Maris and your sisters enjoy this victory and his shame and humiliation of being beaten by a girl for a brief moment. Then, you all regret it. He grabs Maris by her throat, squeezing it so harshly you can see his fingerprints on it. He grins, laughing as if he has gone insane. ‘Apparently you are a bit jealous. Do not worry, you are next.’ He groans in her face, dragging her to the throne. 

‘You are an insolent stupid, ignorant, dumb little-’ He scolds when sitting down and taking her on his lap. You never saw anything like that before and have trouble looking away. You watch as his hands go over her neck, to her back, and to her behind...

Ellyn clutches to Cass’s side. ‘What will he do with her? We need to get father. He will stop this madness.’ You doubt it. 

You hear Maris cry out and realise that Aemond has hit her. 'You can't hit a lady!' Your sister Cass roars angry. 'You are a despicable little beast.'

The prince scoffs unbothered and even smiles when Maris whimpers terrified of him. 'But I can spank her. This is nothing unusual for a wife and her husband.' You know what that word means from a few books Cassandra reads sometimes and watch as your sister lies over his legs getting punished by the prince. She keeps quiet mostly and he hates it. He does everything in his power to make her scream, cry or to even beg him.

The way he hits her looks so painful. You can almost feel his hands on your flesh hitting you. You see her ashamed cheeks turn red and watch as she tries to fight but eventually accepts her punishment. Aemond has not stripped her, as he is not her lord husband yet. He has no right, yet.

When Maris is properly tamed and done for She is lifted. He grabs her by her throat as a warning and feels her breasts with his hands. You watch fascinated and worried as he smashes his lips on her own kissing her. Maris moans and feels his knees where she was laying moments earlier. You feel a strange thirst. You feel yourself become breathless.

The prince sends her away.

'Anyone else who needs to be taught a lesson?' He eyes you and your sisters, eager to punish whoever might defy.

You bite your lip and raise your chin; making direct eye contact with the prince. He grins and raises a brow at you before patting his knee, inviting you over. You quickly blush and back away, hiding from him. He chuckles.

You quickly glance back at your feet. That was poor timing on your behalf. You scold yourself in your head. Your other sister, meanwhile, sits the throne. Floris slowly takes off her dress, revealing her breasts. Aemond seems interested and comes over. He grabs her and forces her to stand. She kisses him desperate like lovers do.

Floris subtly drops her gown a bit, showing more of her breasts. Aemond grins before touching her nippels and biting her neck as if he is an animal. You watch as the two of them kiss each other passionately. Aemond slams her against the throne and spreads her legs...

Your mouth turns dry as his hands vanish under her skirts touching her. She lets out cries of pleasure. You wonder how he is touching her. How is making her feel that good. If he can make you, feel that good.

Someone squeezes you, and you are startled. Cass glares at you. 'Bentha,' She whispers furiously. 'You are watching.'

Your voice cracks and you are in need of a drink.

'I never saw any man-' you try to defend yourself.

Cass sighs. 'I will get you a man, but not him. He will destroy you.' You hear a voice whisper that no man will do that with you what he does.

Floris cries out, and you watch her closely studying her. 'What is happening to her?' Ellyn asks, worried for Floris's safety.

'She has just finished.' Maris responds drly. Ellyn blinks.

Ellyn blushes, hoping she midunderstands it all. 'With what exactly?' You all groan.

The prince sighs and grins as Floris puts her dress back on. He walks back to you all. You watch as he dryly wipes off his fingers on a towel. 'You girls are tameable, it seems.' He makes you all sound like disobedient women.

He counts you all again shoving some of you aside. 'I already kissed you, you and now you...'

You and Cass remain.

'Leaving you two.' He says joyfully. Cassandra sighs before accepting that she is next. She grabs his face gently and kisses his lips before he can even understand what is happening. She also uses her tongue like he did on Ellyn. She grins when he is absolutely shocked and wordless by her bold display.

'That was everyone.' She joyfully says. 'You did it.' She is saving you from him.

Aemond seems that confused that he does not realise that mistake.

'No; Bentha remains.' Floris suddenly rings out joining you.

You feel yourself shake. You gulp.

The prince grabs you by your hips dragging you closer to him. You feel his hot breath on your lips and feel yourself fall. 'You're mine, little stag.'

You gulp. 'Let her be, Aemond. She is the youngest. She has no interest in you.' Maris tries to intervene. It's useless.

Floris growls. 'It's a kiss.' Aemond brings you back to the throne.

You are pushed on his lap, forced to sit. You feel his warmth and sweat unintended. You never were so close to any man.

'I am not sure that is entirely true.' He says once you are sitting. You feel him touch your legs gently. You think of him parting them and feeling you like he did with Floris. What is wrong with you? He hurt your servants.

'Shall we kiss?'

'I want to have a chat with you first.' He saw you. He saw you watch. You blush. 'Yes, I saw you peek when I finished your little sister off. When she came on my lap. I also saw you gawk when I spanked your sister and forced my tongue in your other sister's throat.' He describes it.

'I was worried for their safety-' he laughs.

'I gave all your siblings a little lesson. Ellyn learned how to kiss, Maris learned the value of spankings, Floris learned how to come, and Cassandra learned how to seduce. What do you hope I teach you, little stag?' You are surprised that he even knows your names and who is who. Some servants take years.

He kisses your neck, and you gasp.

'They didn't like their lessons.' You say nervously.

'You are different. I bet you'd be the most wonderful student. So obedient to please your teacher.' Your body reacts so unpleasantly. You are wet.

'I need-' you need to get away from him. Now.

He grins. 'No, little stag. I am not quite finished.'

'Please-' you beg getting up.

'No, I said.' He says strictly and gives you a light smack on your behind. It is not enough force but it turns you on so quickly. You moan even. You blush mortified and ashamed. You definitely liked that. Wether you knew it prior or not. You whimper. You hear him chuckle. 'I will teach you.'

'I will teach you what it means to be a woman.' You watch in horror as he shoves a small silver ring around your finger before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder. 'Tell Lord Borros I claimed his youngest.' He tells the other girls before carrying you off. 'O, and don't come knocking any time soon.'

/a/n

IF THE DRAGON IS ROCKING DONT COME KNOCKING.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #dark aemond targaryen x reader #dark! #head the warnings #dubcon #possible triggering content #She/her reader #AFAB Reader #DarkFantasy #Possible noncon #Possible gore #Old work

[dmitriyuriev]

#fgo #fate grand order #Ashiya Douman #Katou Danzou #Caster of Limbo #suggestive #noncon/ #ask to tag #was trying to decide if i should just poipiku this but ehh there's nothing happening *yet* so #creepy obsessions and dolls are two of my favorite things so these two were so targeted for me #i will make as much LimDan as possible all myself if i have to aaaa i love them #Danzou probably half a second away from biting off his thumb lol #love both their shimousa and post-shimousa dynamics so much #from blind obedience to (rightful) hostility towards him its great

[whumble-beeee]

A New Enemy Has Entered The Arena

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 6

Content: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, (brief) dissociation, noncon partial undressing, noncon touch, attempted noncon

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters Dr. Vaughn Verhulst

["Make them fear the wrath of god, then remind them the only god they should fear is you."]

* * * * * * * *

“So, this is the capture, huh?” The new voice drawled. Despite the exhaustion and the agony lacing throughout every part of his body, Stan's managed a look up at the new situation. Directly into a pair of steel blue eyes that made his breath stutter. “Not much to look at, huh?”

Stan scooted backward, but Deeby seemed to beat him to the same idea, stepping in front of the man and completely blocking him from view.

“There's no way you're the one doing the pickup. What are you doing here?”

The new man tried to side-step Deeby. “Don't worry, I'm not trying to interrupt your smooch-fest, just wanna make sure you aren't breaking our new toy–”

Deeby stepped in front of the man again, the man barely stopping short of crashing directly into him, just long enough for Stan to gather his scattered bearings and realize there was a new person here and all the distinct possibilities of what that meant for him.

And suddenly he felt lightheaded again.

“Dude…”

“What.” Deeby insisted slowly. “Are you doing here?”

This new guy… honestly, not much to look at himself, from what Stan saw. He couldn't have been too much older than Stan, fluffy light brown hair, an accent he couldn't quite place, but… probably European? He also wasn't wearing any sort of mask or anything to hide his face, which was only vaguely concerning, Stan decided to believe. Not to mention, this new guy had been wearing a knit sweater vest? It looked soft. Stan almost had to remind himself that the guy must be a threat, just like Deeby, or why would he even be here?

He just looked so corporate.

“I told you, checking on the capture, getting some intel. Making sure you didn't crap up the very simple plan, or kill him. It’s a real concern with you, I'm sure you understand.”

The man tried to side-step Deeby once again, and once again the mercenary blocked him. Stan started to scoot back away from the two, his ankle chain softly clanking as it dragged across the floor. Whatever was going on between them, he wanted no part of it.

“He's secure. And alive. Not fatally wounded, and will continue to stay that way.” Deeby stated. “You can leave now.”

Sweater-vest ventured an exaggerated glance over Deeby's shoulder, just barely giving Stan another view of his steel-colored eyes. Something about them made his heart skip a beat.

“You sure about that, big man? Kid doesn't seem to be doing so hot.

“Yup.” Deeby didn't even entertain a glance back. “Buh-bye now.”

Stan could practically hear the eye-roll that accompanied the groan that Sweater-vest let out. “Well excuse me for not trusting you as far as I can throw you. Look, I'm not just here to mess with you, I'm here on Lana's orders. She wants you to call her.”

Stan stopped scooting dead, an icy coldness surging through his chest, a sudden darkness swirling around his head. Lana. That sounded like a real name. Why was this man using real names? Deeby didn't use a real name, he was very dead set on that! Why was this new man using real names?! Real names were bad why was he using real names–?!

Deeby also stiffened at the name. He hand clenched for just a fraction of a second. Then he shook his head and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Why didn't she just call me instead of sending your sorry ass to deliver the message?” Deeby finally seemed to settle on.

Sweater-vest's eyes flicked over Deeby, up and down, before an unnerving grin spread across his face. “I know something you don't know~” he sang slowly, like some sort of horror movie villain.

“You planning on telling me? Or you just gonna stand there like a skin-walker.” Deeby look just about ready to blow.

“Soon as I verify the little super lives up to our wildest hopes and dreams.”

“Y’know, technically we’re supposed to be on the same side.”

The man sidestepped Deeby one last time, and this time, the mercenary just let him pass by. Stan shrank back as the piercing gaze of Sweater-vest appraised him, looking him up and down as he slowly walked closer.

“A bit worse for wear, no?” Sweater-vest noted, almost to himself.

“Yeah, little shit tried to escape. Got pretty far too, he's stronger than I thought. Got me right–” Then he noticed Stan had backed up halfway across the room instead of stayingin place on the floor right behind him. And sighed. “Kinda a wuss though…”

“Die.” Stan growled, scowling at the mercenary even as he clutched his knees to his chest.

“Oooooh” Sweater-vest cooed, and Stan nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized how close the man had gotten to him. “Feisty little guy, huh?”

Stan kicked out at him and skittered back, only to realize he was almost out of room to skitter. So he reluctantly stood his ground. Well, sat his ground. “Get away from me!”

“He's mostly talk,” Deeby called again. “Mostly…”

Stan barely even registered what Deeby said. His vision completely tunneled on Sweater-vest as he slowly advanced on Stan, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Dang, Dick Biscuits, you really got a handle of him, don’t you?” Sweater-vest's eyes never once left Stan's. “Leashed and collared, like a little puppy dog… “

Stans cheeks turned a bright red. He glared at the man as hard as he could, jaw clenched so hard it could have broken, because honestly, how dare he?!

Deeby sighed, like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was now. Stan could relate.

“Yeah… It's necessary.”

“Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

The man crouched directly in front of the trembling Stan. “Hi,” he said softly, disarmingly, giving Stan just the slightest tilt of the head. “My name's Vaughn, its–”

“Christ man, would you cut it out with the names!” Deeby yelled, causing the both of the smaller men to jump as he marched over. Stan reflexively curled up into a little ball, gut swirling with a new and terrifying form of dread and suddenly very aware of his restraints once more, while Sweater-vest–... Vaughn… sprung up to face down Deeby.

As much as Stan was absolutely terrified of Deeby, he had to admit he agreed with the bounty hunter on this one. The way Sweater-vest threw out names like that felt… Dangerous. On a visceral level. He hugged his legs closer to his chest.

“Why?” Sweater-vest taunted. “It's not like he's gonna live to tell anyone.”

“Nothing's ever 100% with these things,” he growled. “Unless you want to get fifty to life here as well. You'd be doing me a huge favor, honestly, and bring Lana down with you while you’re at it. But leave me out of it.”

Sweater-vest hummed, considering. Glanced Deeby up and down. Then scoffed. “Don't you have an important phone call to get to, Deeby? I’d hate to have to tell Lana that her least favorite ex disobeyed her direct orders and needs to be dealt with.”

The mercenary stared down Sweater-vest. The intensity of it almost entranced Stan, it seemed to go on for an eternity. Then, finally, Deeby let out a small grunt, and took a slow, deep breath.

“Stan!” he yelled. Stan nearly yelped. “If he tries anything, kill him, he deserves it. And you.” he turned his attention right back to Sweater-vest before Stan could stutter out some sort of question or affirmation. “Don't fuck with him.”

“Aw, so protective, falling in love already?”

“I'll be back in a few, don't try anything!” He yelled as he made his way toward the door. Then, only slightly under his breath, “Pinche pendejo.”

The smile on Sweater-vest's face immediately dropped and he whirled around.

“Krijg de tering, vuile teringleier!”

The door slammed shut, the crack of metal against metal deafening in the sudden silence. And they were alone. Together.

Stan stared at the floor and clenched his fists, trying to calm his racing nerves. Did his best to keep his breathing even. Be still, not show weakness while also not challenging the man he was now alone with. He never thought he would ever actually miss Deeby's presence. But here they were.

“Brute.” Sweater-vest seethed under his breath as he sauntered back over to Stan. “Should've just put him out of his misery years ago, swear to God.”

Then his demeanor completely shifted once more as he stood over Stan. More professional, more cold, more demanding.

“Anyway, stand up, let me get a look at you.”

“Are you ‘The Guy?’” Stan blurted out before he had time to even realize he was doing it. Anything to break the sudden unbearable tension.

Sweater-vest tilted his head with a raised eyebrow and a small laugh. “The Guy?”

“Yeah…” Wow, suddenly he wished he never said anything. “The uh, the guy. You know the guy…” Stan's voice wavered as the man scrunch his nose at him. As if Stan was speaking an entirely different language. “Like. Like the guy. The guy who, uh, who…”

He took a deep breath, and blurted out “The boss guy who had me kidnapped!”

A brief pause. The man stared at him.

“No,” he snorted. “No, I'm not ‘the guy’, as you so eloquently put it. And your ‘guy’ is actually a lady, the lovely Ms. Lana who I mentioned earlier. And I'm Dr. Vaughn Verhulst, you can call me Vaughn. Pleasure to meet you.”

Stan shrank into himself slightly. “Oh…”

Again with the names. They made his skin crawl, like tiny ants crawling up and down his arms. The full name this time too, Dr. Verhulst. And Lana. Where had he heard that name before? Lana...

Stan didn't have time to ponder the question, though, as the man surged forward and reached down toward Stan's vulnerable neck, and Stan screeched and jolted back trying to get away.

But the man was surprisingly fast for a guy who could be mistaken for an office drone.

“Alright now, stand up.”

Then suddenly Stan was choking as the two fingers looped under his collar and dragged him upward, squeezing Stan's windpipe fully shut with Stan gasping and clutching at the collar trying to free himself and allow his body the sweet air it so desperately begged for the whole short distance up. And when he was finally standing and the collar loosened just slightly, Stan coughed and wheezed and tried to double over on himself to lessen the pain, if only the man wasn't still holding him straight up by the collar. He finally managed to get his own fingers under the collar just enough to pull it away from flush against his throat, his body shifting from world-shaking coughs and gasps for air to shuddering wheezes and shivers, and only then did he realize that Vaughn’s other hand wasn't just sitting idly by. No, instead it settled on his arms and ribcage, pressing into the tender bruised flesh that marred his entire body.

He felt a sudden sharp pain at his side and twitched away from it, only for a steadying hand to fall on straight onto another bruise on his waist and press in, clutch at it, holding him in place and sending jolts throughout his entire body that made him dizzy. All the breath left his body. He froze.

“What– What're you–?... Stop, let go…” It felt almost taboo to break the sudden stillness. He tried to pull away, but the grip on his collar just tightened, knuckles pressing harder into his neck as Sweater-vest continued to press into his side.

“Shhhhhh, dropje. Just let me do my work.”

“Your work?...” The hand pressed into his broken rib, and Stan yelped out and shoved the offending hand away from the tender area.

“STOP! Stop touching me! Stop!” Stan cried. This was too much. What was even happening here?

Vaughn's dark gaze fixed on the place that had made Stan cry out, calculating, jaw set. Stan withdrew into himself sightly before he remembered himself, and stared defiantly right back. Then the gaze drifted slightly lower, softening with an almost mischievous smile and a low hum before he finally, finally, looked Stan square in the eyes.

“Take your shirt off.”

Stan's heart turned to ice.

“WHAT?! No! You’re insane!”

Stan managed to rip free of his grip and launch backwards, only for his back to slam directly into the wall. Damn it. He saw stars, and the world rocked around him.

He pressed into it regardless, held his cuffed hands up in front of his torso as some sort of measly defense. “Get– Get away from me! I'm not taking my shirt off! You're crazy, get away!”

He scowled, then reached into his pocket with a deep sigh. A glint of steel gleamed in the light as Vaughn pull out a pair of very sharp-looking scissors and waved them lazily at Stan's chest.

“You are.” Sweater-vest stated simply. “I'm a doctor, dropje, I have to take a look at your body, make sure that ass didn't leave any lasting damage. You worry too much.”

Sweater-vest suddenly went to reach around his arms and get at the top button of his shirt, and Stan slapped them away, earning himself a glare from the man as he stepped closer once more and boxed him in completely.

“Stan… Schatje…” he spoke lowly, voice sickeningly sweet. The scissors drifted so close to his throat. “I'm going to make this so simple for you, yeah? I'm cutting your shirt off now. If you make things difficult, then your shirt won't be the only thing cut, got it?”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to become so small. Small enough that the threat wouldn't see him anymore and he could run away and never have to deal with it again. This was insane. This was insane, right? This guy was insane!

“No, no, no, no, no, don't, get away from me, get away from me.” He tried to inject as much hissing venom as possible into the words, but they still didn't come out much above a squeaking, shaky whisper.

Vaughn reached for his top button, and though Stan pressed into the wall as much as he could, arms up and ready to strike at any moment, this time his fingers weren't stopped from undoing the top button. Then continuing down from there. Then he gently grabbed Stan's wrists and moved them downward and continued unfastening, all the way down until the front of his shirt was completely open, the cool air giving Stan goosebumps.

“Oh.” Vaughn said, almost to himself, running his finger over the strap of Stan's chest binder. “I didn't realize you were transgender, Stan.”

The swirling mass of thoughts in Stan’s head finally meet the one overwhelming his gut and crashing down upon him, breaking the fragile spell keeping him paralyzed.

“DEEBY! HELP!!” Stan cried out, loud as he possibly could. As if Deeby would ever help him. As if he would save him. All Stan knew was that in that very moment, he would prefer the physically abusive mercenary a hundred times over this guy, the guy who looked at him like a lion at an antelope, the man who feigned kindness, whose smile seemed just a bit too perfect, who made weird cryptic comments and who threw names around as if it didn't matter whether or not Stan knew them. As if Stan would never live to escape. As if the horrors Stan would endure were cursed to echo the walls in which they occurred, never to be heard by another soul.

“Oh calm down, Stanny, he's not going to come save you.” Vaughn dismissed, quickly pulling down the sleeve of his shirt and cutting it open down the seam, the quick repetitive snip snip snip of the scissors filling the room completely. Stan's weak attempts to slap away the scissors or otherwise stop his disrobing were all but brushed off by the ‘doctor.’ A quick but very intentional blade to the neck was all he needed to freeze Stan up and allow him to continue.

Very soon, Vaughn had the shredded fabric that used to make up Stan's shirt sprawled across the floor at their feet. Stan didn't even feel the coolness of the room goosebumping his skin anymore, not with the burning red in his cheeks and the again wandering hands of Sweater-vest to keep him unbearably warm.

He could scarcely breathe. His brain started to feel farther and farther away from his body. His hair was standing on end, shivers running throughout his entire body making him twitch. And he wondered if he should even put in the effort to ground himself. Maybe it would be easier if he was far, far away for all of this anyway.

“It's not like I care, Stan. It doesn't matter to me. I'll even let you keep your chest binder thing on, if that’d make you more comfortable... Hey.”

He snapped a few times in front of Stan's eyes, and Stan despairingly snapped back to reality. So close too. Just for Sweater-vest to smile his weird creepy smile at him. There was no way to misconstrue the malicious gleam in his eyes, the one that made Stan's own eyes go wide and his breath halt entirely as he stared into them. His other hand was on Stan's back now. He was practically holding Stan in a facsimile of a hug. Pressing in his lower back. Lower. Just a bit too low for comfort.

“I'm serious, I can work with that,” he reassured, hand now dipping under Stan's waistband, and before Stan could react, he pulled the captive in close to him, pressing his pelvis securely into Stan's lower stomach while brushing to closed blades of the scissors along Stan's jawline and up his cheek. “It's not what I was expecting, but it doesn't change what I'm going to do to you.”

And that's when Stan pulled back and punched him square in the jaw.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #attempted noncon #this editing brought to you by #the doctors office waiting room while i was waiting to get a blood test #then i passed out twice #what an experience! #also! #a warm welcome to vaughn! #hope yall like him #hes a fkn menace #dont worry though he gets worse #so excited for this turning point #bc guess whos gonna geta little taste of caretaker deeby soon! #stan! #thats who! #bc apparently it is possible for deeby to feel bad for stan :)

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Day 12 - Self Harm

Hehehe a little bit of a twist on the prompt, but Mariano is indeed harming himself, along with like 95% of the other people in this building :)

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain

TWs: blink-and-you-miss-it reference to the threat of noncon, blood, self-harm, hand whump, dislocated fingers, captivity (the moment of escape), death, murder, burns, starvation mention, self-sacrifice, Dimitri being himself about pain

Mariano stood steadfast as alarms blared, the only one of the war mages who'd managed to slip his restraints. Laredo watched as he trembled, knees threatening to give out as more and more people continued to try to take him down. Mariano's magic gathered at his teeth, broken wards no longer keeping the plasma contained. It sparked at his fingers and palms, spitting and hissing in fury and exhaustion.

Laredo didn't remember Mariano fighting like this when he was younger. He was always efficient, and terrifying to see. Luis had picked him for a reason--Mariano could wipe a town off the face of the earth with no hesitation or change in his posture. He'd seen him do it; mechanically tackling every structure, killing every living person inside before he did so that they weren't trapped and waiting for an even worse death. That Mariano was a lot.

But this Mariano put that one to shame.

This Mariano, with scars and eyes that burned with more than just fear, moved like a predator. Laredo realized that it was almost too easy to think that he was some fragile little waif when they usually saw him next to his seven-foot-tall dragon, curled up on the couch to cuddle, or standing as one of the smaller members of their group. This Mariano burned holes through guards' heads without blinking, without missing a shot. This Mariano loomed and leaped, hands wreathed in blinding magic. He pinned the lead guard with little more than just his weight.

They'd seen how that guy had been looking at Manuel, at Mariano. Had heard whispers about what he wanted to do. Laredo glanced at Manuel, and saw the same fury and joy and catharsis in his eyes.

Mariano wrapped his fingers around the lead guards' throat. Mariano didn't let go until the man stopped screaming. He wasn't dead. Mariano didn't seem to care that much.

He didn't seem to care when his magic flickered, either. It shorted out, suddenly dimming before cutting off completley. Laredo's heart dropped. There were still more men to deal with--but they'd been held here for weeks, and hadn't even gotten to free Bastian yet. The starvation seemed like it had taken too heavy of a toll on the youngest war mage.

"Mariano!" Laredo called. Mariano didn't look at him, never looking away from the hallway that the threats had been pouring into. "Cut us free! Let us take over!"

Mariano didn't even seem to hear him.

More men appeared at the end of the hallway. They raised their guns. Suddenly, the hallway was lit by that same brilliant sunlight. For a moment, Laredo thought one of the others had broken free. Mariano's silhouette stood alone, though.

The men fell. They kept appearing. They kept falling.

Mariano was still casting. Laredo saw how horribly his palms were burned. They hung at his sides, loose and swaying as Mariano lurched forward, firing more magic from his teeth.

"Laredo." Dimitri said, drawing Laredo's attention away from Mariano. "Help me out. I'm almost free. I'm not as flexible as I used to be." Dimitri met his eyes, some grim determination filling his expression. His hands were almost free from the cuffs. He just needed a little help to dislocate his thumb. "His nose is already bleeding."

Laredo's stomach dropped. Mariano had already pushed himself too far. Mariano intended to keep going.

Laredo realized how horribly they were outnumbered. This whole place was meant to hold them for as long as necessary. Every single person here had a vested interest in keeping them under control. Many of them would be willing to die for it.

Laredo hooked his shoe up under the chain keeping Dimitri's cuffs linked. "I won't count you down." He saw how the metal bit into Dimitri's hands, into his skin, how it threatened to draw blood.

"Good. You know I like surprises." Dimitri shot him a grin as he leaned forward to give Laredo the straightest shot possible. He didn't scream when Laredo yanked his foot towards himself.

"Mm," Dimitri groaned, and Laredo couldn't quite tell how Dimitri felt about his newly dislocated thumbs. "Yes, I see why he didn't come unlock us after doing that to himself."

Dimitri staggered to his feet, grimacing as he sparked his magic and started slicing through the metal keeping Laredo bound. One cuff fell, and then the other. Laredo's skin smarted from how hot they'd gotten during the removal process.

Mariano was still casting, and people were still coming. His magic started to flicker and short out again. "Rookie, stand down!" Laredo tried as he began slicing through Manuel's restraints.

"He's not able to hear us right now." Manuel muttered, shaking his hands as he and Izan were freed next.

Just as Mariano managed to get his magic back at his teeth, Laredo grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him off of his feet. The cast fizzled and he stumbled, only avoiding dropping to the floor because of Laredo's arms around his waist.

Mariano blinked hard as Laredo pulled him away from the opening of the hallway, letting Izan, Manuel, and Dimitri take over the attack. "Laredo...?" Confusion was clear on his face.

"Yeah, it's me." He lowered them both to the floor, supporting Mariano's weight on the way down. "Dimitri dislocated his thumbs like a weirdo and slipped his cuffs. You don't have to hurt yourself anymore. We have you."

Mariano rested his cheek against Laredo's shoulder and nodded. "I...okay." He settled on, closing his eyes. His hands rested on his lap, skin burned and bleeding. "Okay." Laredo reached up to smooth some of Mariano's hair back and wipe some of the blood from his face.

Laredo held Mariano there against the wall until Dimitri's triumphant call heralded their victory.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #Ailesswhumptoberday12 #Day 12 #Whump #Self harm #self sacrifice #Blood #magical exhaustion #Noncon mention #But so briefly and it never actually happened #It was just a possibility and the guy dies painfully #dislocation #Hand whump #Finger whump #Murder #Death #Fire #Yk usual war mage stuff #Escape #Mage of violence #Dragon of diamond #Laredo #Izan #Manuel #Dimitri #Starvation ment

[terrence-silver]

What would Terry’s reaction be to finding Beloved with another man?…

---

Of course his first instinct was to kill. Maim.

Avenge. Mainly himself.

Settle scores.

Achieve prime control by digging his fingers into your neck until your ligaments snapped in half and then deal with the lowlife punk schmuck you were shacked up with at The Montrose, downtown West Hollywood. Destroy their mediocre little life, one bit at a time until they begged for release he wouldn't give them. Margaret, by extension of his private investigators told him exactly where to find you. The location to where you were tracked. Followed, when you thought you were being clever, unseen, outsmarting everyone, never realizing his many eyes were always on you.

He takes the Rolls Royce there.

Has his chauffeur driving him out. The aesthetic choice was deliberate. He'd go down there calmly, in high style, a man of the world, well dressed, poised, like he was doing no more and no less than attending some high stakes business meeting. A conference. And he was, in a sense. Revenge was business and his business was revenge, today of all days, as he calmly strides of the stairs on the third floor, polished leather shoes against the floorboards, adjusting his golden cufflinks, the puzzled front desk receptionist at the dingy hotel eyeing him like he just saw the fucking Pope enter the venue premises. Yeah, it is simple as knocking on the door marked AB19 and you open, thinking he's room service undoubtedly, find yourself in a state of partial undress, wrapped in a bathrobe, looking pale. Terry was convinced it was a far greater fright to come face to face with him than being caught cheating. But he's cool, simply grabbing the door's frame from the top, using his height to his advantage once you try to close it shut in front of him and he strides past you with ease, looking for a chair to sit down on, inviting himself inside, never asking for permission, pulling a monogrammed silken handkerchief under himself as he does, sprawling it out, as not to get sullied, the keys to your room promptly tossed on a nearby end table with a metallic, resounding clamor that shook the foyer.

There's a creature on the bed, just like Terry knew there would be, rolled in post-coital bedsheets, looking even more befuddled than you were; an emotion clearly replaced by fear once the door shuts behind his stride and two realize you were just caught. What? Did he interrupt something? Terry crosses his legs, nonchalant. He would deal with this punk later. It would be a pleasure.

-"C'mon! Don't stop on my account."- He fishes a golden cigar box out of his inside pocket, ensuring that the suit he wore was the picture of flattery on him, looking for a cutter and a lighter, pushing the tobacco between his lips, nonplussed. He already broke half of the furniture back at the mansion earlier today when his detective handed him the photographs of you with this...thing, staring at him from the mattress, shaken. He got ahold of himself by the time he arrived here, hot waves of wrath rolling off of him until there was nothing left but stony determination. Now was the time to play his frosty disposition and play it masterfully. -"I wanna watch."- Terry utters that line like it was nothing at all, and it wasn't anything at all. He's watched people fuck before. People watched him fuck before too. He's just never watched someone that was his fuck someone else before, was all. That's why all his discipline is employed, never to show an emotion. Never show mercy. Not now.

-"Terry, I, how..."- You stutter uncomfortably, finally able to muster a word or two, still processing he was here at all. Least of all, that he was asking what he was asking.

-"I said, I wanna watch."-

He repeats, matter-of-factly, feeling himself grow icy cold at the idea his explicit order was being questioned at all, letting the smoke bellow out of his nostrils in floating circles, pointing a ring finger vaguely at the nobody fucktard you choose to do him in with. How your standards have fallen. You wanted to learn a thing or two about humiliation? Fair enough. Terry Silver was here to do the teaching. This would be one of many demonstrated lessons. The first one. The prologue. Round one in the ringer.

-"So? Put on a good live performance."-

He twirls his hand in the air for emphasis, relishing in your embarrassment, so thick he could practically cut it with a knife and eat it for breakfast with an entrée followed by the main course in the form of your bleeding heart, feeling his jaw tighten to the point he could imagine himself capable of biting through the concrete walls of the room filled with cold anger, eyes searching for an ashtray and in finding none, he simply allows the searing residue from his cigar to fall on the carpet along with a curtain of red embers. He could burn this whole place down and he'd be fully justified in doing so. But, no, Terry didn't deal in impulsive anger. Terry only got angry when he decided it was time to --- deciding when it was useful --- and now wasn't the time. He ironically needed to be perfectly level headed now. And so, he was.

-"Terry, listen, we can go outside and I can explain ---"-

You try desperately to placate him and your creature scurries nervously, collecting their shit from strewn over the floor, ready to run. Make a dash for it. -"I'll leave, man."- They make a pathetic attempt and fail. -"Bullshit you will. Class isn't dismissed and recess hasn't started."- Terry doesn't raise his voice, refusing to blink. Doesn't give anyone in the room the satisfaction of finding him affected and out of control. Instead, he adjusts himself and sinks deeper into the trusted old cuck chair --- of course every hotel had one, but this time, he tended to see it as the seat of command, pointing at the bed, refusing to address the creature personally, instead, doing it through you as mouthpiece, courier and vessel. -"You tell them, they'll be a good robot. Do exactly as programmed."- Terry instructs, never taking his eyes off of you. Sure, yes, he considered violence as his first incentive, but this? This was so much better. You wanted to be an adulterer and now it was your chance do to what an adulterer did best, with him as witness and coordinator, learning a lesson you'd never forget; that regardless what you did, you belonged to him. Now and always. -"And after you're done,"- He warns, wagging his finger. -"You'll pack all your crap up and you're coming home with me."- Disbelief. Terry reads disbelief in your eyes when faced with those words. Like a part of you thought that fucking someone else would finally liberate you from him as your last way out. That you'd get rid of him. That he'd be disgusted, angry and done with you to the degree you'd walk free, even if walking free came with certain amounts of pain stemming from his ire, truly showing how desperately you wanted freedom at any cost. If that was your reason behind tactically doing this then you were dead wrong --- you grossly miscalculated --- because giving you exactly what you wanted was too damn easy.

No.

You'd stay right where you belonged --- with him.

Denied of the very thing you were reaching for forever.

And Terry would enjoy that so much. That would be his revenge.

-"Chop-chop! Get to work."- Terry claps his hands, balancing his cigar between his index and middle finger, mustering a dry chuckle, feeling himself like spectator at the Kentucky Derby bidding on a race horse from the jam-packed audience, watching you exchange silently horrified glances with the schmuck on the bed who was still trying to figure out if this was real or an elaborate joke. Was no joke. Didn't you tell them about him? No? Terry wanted to watch you fuck the prick. He wanted it to last long. Torturously so. Terry wanted you to feel his gaze on you as you did, unable to escape. Feel every bit of discomfort, unease, objectification and suffering you could until you finally tapped the fuck out and found that this was only the beginning. That there was his car waiting downstairs and that you'd be going back with him. That you would pay for what you've done. That you'd realize what 'nothing is for free' really meant. That he would ensure your paid your dues for this betrayal with every inch of your being until it left a mark on your very soul. When you refuse to move, Terry decides, now's the time to raise his voice and his tone is laced with crude laughter as he does once both you and the shmuck nearly jump out of your skins. -"With conviction!"- Terry yells, as you reluctantly approach the bed, finally moving, even if it was at a snail's pace, wholly shaken and shivering. He smiles. Good. Perfect. This would hurt you, sure. But, no more than it would hurt him.

He takes another long, hard drag out of his cigar, filling the room with smoke.

#i think this level of sadism is very much possible for terry silver #terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; cheating #tw; cuckholding #tw; power dynamics #tw; sub / dom #tw; sadism #tw; revenge #tw; dubious consent #tw; noncon

[feverdreamsanddelusions]

thinking about making a prompt ask game because i can't find one right away- like, there's nothing wrong with the OC centered ones i just don't have mine out there yet so.... and then i was like well i'll look for one that just has a bunch of prompts but i couldn't immediately find one and i'm impatient so i thought maybe i should make my own...

#aaaaa what theme though #what am i passionate about #bad caretakers... mind control... noncon drugging... kidnapping... #oooo addiction whump and medical whump #i should totally make stupid little ask games for all of these honestly #one like and i'll do it #honestly i just wanna make it as easy as possible for people to send me prompts because i wanna. write for people #i wanna make it easy to interact with me!!! i'm semi cool and somewhat friendly!!! #res rambles

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

I've already made cringe Gem powers!Headcanons for a Darling with Aizen but consider: one with Baldur.

Imagine a Darling with a kind of magic tied to souls: their own soul is imbued into a gem that only appears if they're mortally wounded, they can materialize weapons made from their soul's nature, they can shapeshift, and they can fuse themselves with others.

Now Mimir says that Vanir magic is slippery and elusive. Freya's spell affects Baldur's body...but what if Baldur's body ceased to exist and was combined with another? And suddenly, Baldur has a chance to escape his mother's curse by being in this strange magical fusion with Darling. All it takes is for him to overhear Odin explaining his "new guest's" abilities, and the god who the other Aesir know as ruthless and only concerned with himself is suddenly obsessed with another person.

He's outright demanding his father to have this guest marry him, just so he has the chance to try this magic. If it doesn't work, then he's just planning to kill them. Odin picks up on why Baldur is suddenly interested in someone for the first time in centuries, and he just uses Darling as a bargaining chip/prize to get Baldur to do what he wants.

Darling is...not comfortable, to say the least, with Baldur's "courting". Said courting is just him barging into their chambers, grabbing them, and demanding they use their magic to fuse with him. They're trying to explain that it's not something you just DO with a stranger, especially someone so aggressive and hostile as him; culturally speaking, you do this with people you trust or know very well. Baldur could not give less of a shit and does anything possible to coerce them, and eventually (in tears) they agree just so they'll have some peace.

And the instant it happens...it's overwhelming. This body isn't his, it isn't theirs, it's something new altogether. It's an indescribably feeling, existing but not at the same time in a being as powerful as the teo of them combined. But the power isn't what is making him feel such a rush--it's his senses. He can FEEL in this body: the chill of the winter breeze, the warmth of the fire in Darling's hearth, the pain from Darling's body before they'd fused...it hits him like a ton of bricks and their fusion is sobbing on the floor as they marvel at this rush of sensory stimuli and emotional trauma from each of them.

But fusions like this aren't stable, and soon they've separated. He's numb again and Darling is unconscious on the floor from the stress on their body and soul. And he's breaking down, shaking them to wake them up and begging them, threatening them, just fucking SCREAMING for them to wake up and do it again. The entire Great Lodge can hear him, and Odin just sighs in his study. Great: his prize to dangle in front of Baldur certainly works well, but now Baldur's even more unstable.

Baldur doubles down on the marriage issue with Odin and does everything he can to get his way. And poor Darling is trapped with this literal codependent psychopathic god that will NEVER let them leave him. They're his only comfort apart from thinking of revenge against his mother, and once Darling explains that a stronger bond leads to an easier time fusing, he's revealing everything and anything to them and demanding they do the same in return. He wants to make it so he can be in this fusion FOREVER, and nothing will stop him.

(Also bonus angst: Darling becoming close with Tyr, maybe even falling in love, and fusing naturally without even trying. And it's so harmonious and stable that Darling feels like a part of themselves is stolen away when Odin imprisons him. Baldur fucking HATES the thought of losing his chance at feeling, and this adds to his already possessive nature towards Darling)

#thots #.myshit #yandere baldur #.baldur #.god of war #yandere god of war #unfortunately if odin wants them to have kids who can inherit this power...well #a fusion cant really produce a child yk? the two components are already gone/dont exist when theyre fused lol #that said Baldur is constantly indulging in pleasure as this fusion even when Darling doesnt want to #he'll FORCE their fusion to stay for as long as possible so he can feel *everything* again #tw: noncon