#coercion tw

[yellowlikelemons]

I. Want soft things but i need them to have that blanket of horror. I want you to take care of me so incredibly sweetly, but I want it through the lens that you're actively trying to keep me entirely dependant on you. I want you to feed into my fears, remind me so gently how "The world was cruel to you, sweetheart, wasn't it?" in the sugariest voice. Gently guide me to the conclusion that the only thing I need is your care and surveillance. Pick up every last shard of fragile independance and smash them over and over into glassdust. Gaslight me until the only thing I ever want is to never be more than a room away from you.

[messiahzzz]

Not sure who made you Gale's Sole Interpretor, but could you fucking chill with CALLING PEOPLE ABUSERS over what smut they write with him? -.- Thanks.

it genuinely took me a while to figure out what you could possibly be referring to, since i didn’t talk about smut fanfiction & abuse anywhere on my socials. i presume it’s this post, yes?

gale’s sexual preferences & kinks

which i started off with:

note: this is merely my read on gale’s sexual preferences/kinks. i don’t want to police anyone on their headcanons or claim they are “incorrect”. since the game doesn’t provide too much detail, many things remain up to interpretation. (and lest we forget fanfiction has always encouraged the exploration of dynamics that may not be present in canon.)

this is the part of my post that addressed dubcon within the game’s writing, not fanfiction:

gale is also not a voyeur, nor a cuck. the entire scene with the drow twins leans way too much into dub-con territory for my tastes. the only way you can get him to participate at all is by rolling a persuasion check with DC 25. in every other dialogue option, he immediately (and explicitly) declines. even if you do manage to pass the persuasion check, he is still very hesitant about participating.

here i talked about the parallels to common abuser rhetoric (i.e. “you just have to try it, you might be into it” after already being told no.):

i am aware that fandom uses the fact that his “orb lit up in telltale excitement” as a justification that persuading him was the right choice, as well as confirmation that he was secretly into it and “just needed a little push" to explore his desires/get out of his comfort zone. that implication alone is very suspect and goes straight into the sort of logic abusers often use. you can be physically aroused by certain scenes, images, or sounds, even while being visibly uncomfortable with the presented scenario. it is a natural response that you can’t often control. which is what he is showing throughout the entire scene: discomfort. he was coerced into this situation, without any prior discussion or an opportunity to talk about his boundaries.

in fact, the devnotes (as well as the patch 6 notes) even explicitly stated that gale is very uncomfortable with this entire scenario. this is nothing new:

gale: "ahem. i hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. i'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes out of romance, if it's all the same with you." nodecontext: clears throat awkwardly at the start. the first time you've spoken since having a threesome.

improved player attitudes in the dialogue options when gale expresses discomfort at the drow twins' four-way proposal and removed the persuasion roll.

yet again, what i was addressing in said post is the writing within the game and the interpretations of the game canon — this is not about fandom exploring the smut aspect of this scene in fanfiction. i didn't mention anything along those lines once.

how you choose to examine this scene within the confines of your own writing is solely personal/another matter entirely. as long as you practice common courtesy and tag your work with the according trigger warnings so people can avoid your content/they're not exposed to it without their consent: it’s all good.

[t-n-c]

The sexual/sensual coding in Aaravos and Viren's interactions: The Sequel

Also known as "Why I don't like the revelation in s5."

Trigger warning--This discussion is going to mention manipulation/coercion, homophobic stereotypes, and sexually-charged abusive/invasive behavior under the read more so please proceed with caution.

Alrighty so before I start talking about tdp s5's major reveal in the Viren + Aaravos relationship I'd like to discuss the interactions they had with each other before and after the reveal and my thoughts on them. Here we go:

First thing I'd like to note is that Aaravos is still showing the creepy, invasive behavior that concerned me in my original post. Throughout the scene he and Viren share he:

Touches Viren

Invades Viren's space

And manipulates/controls Viren's body

And in addition to controlling Viren's body, we've also find out that Aaravos can straight up move Viren's very soul if he wants.

And like I addressed in my previous post, he does all of this without asking for Viren's permission and/or showing any care for Viren's wishes--hell, he explicitly ignores Viren when the latter says he doesn't want to be in the prison with him.

That being said, these actions alone aren't the most concerning issue for me; that isn't to say that they're not concerning to me all, but it's nothing that hasn't been done before in their relationship--it's nothing new is what I'm trying to say.

However, the revelation about Sir Sparklepuff being their child is new--and imo it adds a whole new level of creepiness to the relationship.

Allow me to rehash what went down a bit:

Aaravos reveals to Viren that in order for his resurrection to be permanent, he needs to preform a spell that requires the "blood of his child"--Viren protests and claims that he'd never sacrifice his children.

Aaravos responds that he never expected him to hurt Claudia or Soren and reveals that he has a third child he can use--

Viren is confused and claims he doesn't have any other children--then Aaravos reveals that Sir Sparklepuff is his and Aaravos' child

He tells Viren that Sir Sparklepuff is there for him to use for the spell and that he will teach Viren how to use his "living essence" to reclaim both his life and his "future."

There's a lot (and I mean A LOT) of things about this scene/reveal that worry me; I'll try to sum it up neatly, but it's probably going to be pretty lengthy regardless. Here we go:

Concern 1) Viren had no idea that Sir Sparklepuff with his child, but Aaravos did

No matter how many angles I try to see it from, this feels violating to me; considering how Viren didn't know what the spell would do and how desperate he was at the time, his willingness to perform the original spell is dubious enough already--to then have it revealed that the spell produced a child that's biologically his really disturbs me. It might just be my opinion, but I feel that it adds a level of predatory to Aaravos that's unnecessary at best and horrifying at worst.

Concern 2) The lengths Aaravos has gone to keep Viren alive (and presumedly on his side).

This includes:

a) Telling Claudia the spell that would resurrect Viren.

b) Preserving Viren's body for 2 years while Claudia gathered everything necessary

c) When they first met, he chose a spell that would create a being that would not only allow them to communicate, but could also be used to resurrect Viren if the need arose.

Now assuming the writers planned this all from the beginning (I have my doubts, ngl) this shows a great deal of effort and premeditation on Aaravos's part to make sure Viren sticks around--whatever his plans may be, Viren must play a pretty big role in them or else he would have just moved on when Viren died the first time. (It's either that or he has some strange sort of fondness for Viren, which leads me to Concern # 3)

Concern 3) As of now, we have absolutely no info about how their relationship is going to be portrayed going forward

While Viren's fate is a bit ambiguous at the end of s5, I'm 90% confident that he's going to live through s6 in one way or another and assuming I'm right and that happens, there are a few paths the writers could take in how they depict the relationship

Option A) They sweep everything under the rug and pretend the sexual coding in the relationship never existed.

Option B) They portray Aaravos as a complete monster who was just using Viren for one thing or another and has now discarded him since he got what he wanted from him.

Option C) They portray Aaravos as having some dark sort of attachment to Viren--one that won't allow him to let Viren "leave him"

All these possibilities are iffy imho, but I'm honestly not sure which would be worse.

Going with Option A feels lazy--like the writers don't want to deal with the dark themes they chose to put in and decided to take the easy out.

(Granted, it wouldn't be the first time the show has dropped important plot points/developments--no one seems to have found out that Viren and Aaravos sent the assassins at the end of s2, for example--but it would still feel cowardly to me)

Going with Options B or C both feel gross--with Option B it feels like Aaravos would be the epitome of the Predatory Queer-Coded Villain--he would have effectively used and abused Viren in a violating way (i.e coerced/forced him to bear their child) and abandoned him once he was done with him. It would be pretty hard to make a case for him having a "kind side" after that.

That being said, Option C isn't really any better--Aarvos would still be following the "Predatory Villain" stereotype, the only difference would be that he'd fall more into the role of an abusive partner than the "pure evil" role that some older queer-coded villains were placed in.

TLDR: I don't like the revelation of Sir Sparklepuff being Viren and Aaravos' child because I feel it follows the reoccurring theme of possessive/violating actions from Aaravos toward Viren that I've worried about all the way back in s3.

[mvndrvke]

effie + body modifications trigger warnings : body modifications, body dysmorphia, medical, child abuse, coercion. there is one medical illustration of a ribcage under the cut.

rather than focusing on all the modifications effie has had over the years, i'm gonna keep this pretty short and simple and just talk about the ones she still has. effie has had many procedures and modifications done over the years. capitol fashion is more than just clothes, after all ( as we see with characters like tigris ), and effie is no different in doing whatever she has to in order to chase current fashion trends.

after the 74th games and the end of her engagement, effie removes a majority of her modifications. she only kept three main ones to her ribcage, feet, and legs, which are described in more detail below.

reshaped ribcage. wearing tight-lacing corsets will mess with you if you wear them for a long time, and effie has been wearing things to alter her shape for pretty much her whole life. this restricted her ability to breathe, and after thg, effie has the lower part of her ribcage replaced to allow her to breathe more easily and maintain a more natural body shape. this is the only one of her main three alterations that happened after the 74th games; the others happened before.

feet curving. this is the only real aesthetic/cosmetic change that effie kept. she cannot unpoint her toes, and always walks like she's on her tiptoes, which made it easier for her to wear heels, but also eased the pain she has from plantar fasciitis (inflamed tissue in her heels).

reinforced tibias. realistically, this is because her legs are weak af. effie has shin splints as a result of the wearing away of cartilage in her knees and strain on her shins from wearing heels. she was really doomed to fail from a young age with this one. her shins are very weak because of this displaced pressure, and when she got her procedure on her feet, this followed swiftly after to compensate.

[darkdoverpseeker]

( 📞🕊️ ) 20+ female here, i’m looking for a partner that’s willing to write complex character dynamics with me. oc x oc, or oc x cc. mxf, fxf, mxm, literate, 3rd person. nsfw-friendly ( not a partner requirement ). darker content could be included or at least spoken about with a partner if they’re interested ( i am but it’s not requirement ). most of my ocs are on the more assertive side, but it’s not a requirement for them to be.

i like manipulation, dependency, coercion, love-bombing, guilt-tripping. i like themes of abuse, esp the emotional kind where it starts out subtle but it becomes more intense over a duration of time. this plot can be set back into settings like victorian or regency era or kept in modern verse. themes such as abuse of power, edging, overstim, inexperienced/experienced, corruption, dubcon, stockholm syndrome can be included.

brief dynamic ideas: older woman x younger man, cults, mean girl x genuine guy, stalker x victim (tho victim can be just as fucked up), artist x muse, therapist x client, strippers, affairs, musician au, fame, prof x student, crime or detective au. serial killer x victim or investigator.

partner limits will be respected, ofc! i love ooc chat, edits, and playlists. i like a partner that’s just as invested as i am. i’m tired talking to people that don’t reciprocate an ounce of excitement tbh. like this and i’ll contact you as soon as i can.

like if interested!

[sems-diarie]

hiiiii sem <3333 hope ur doing great

i need to rant rq/want ur opinion if im being overdramatic but a close friend of mine still keeps contact with a guy who's best friend almost got me preggers last summer bc he had no condoms. (he kinda pressured me into it). for context we were on a girls trip and we met these guys at a bar so likeee it was supposed to be a one night stand and i never talked to that guy again(didn't even cum smh). also the girls told me after that his best friend wanted to walk in on us doing the dirty (terrifying) and i felt so disgusted after. it was kinda traumatizing. i ghosted them both after but my friend keeps talking to them and i ignored it fr a while bc thats her business (even tho its kinda insensitive) but now she tells me she accepted him on her spam acc that has all the videos of us from that trip (personal shit) and he texted her that he had scrolled down and seen them all. :/. like. i confronted her abt it and now she's acting like im overreacting and telling me to "chill". i feel rlly bad and she won't remove him atp even tho ive told her countless times how uncomfortable that makes me idk why she would even do this tbh. like she didn't even f the guy. idk what to do. am i overreacting?

you’re not overreacting at all :( i’m so sorry he didn’t respect your boundaries.

she’s not taking ur privacy seriously or respecting u period. you deserve so much better than that in your friendships! not to scare u, but ur safety is potentially at risk no matter how small that risk is—especially when you’ve already told her that he/their group make you uncomfortable. once should’ve been enough. and the fact that she’s telling you to chill ab it… i’d be losing my foot up her ass. she’s trying to walk all over u & ur privacy for some guy. and his predator friend???? in my eyes, this is more than enough to cut her off for. friends shld always have ur best interest & safety in mind. and she’s a shitty person period.

[tadbitfooled]

The Abduction

This fic is tied to Gwenifar's personal quest. It is if the party fails the defeat Klaudius Sarrick in time and he takes Gwenifar through a dimensional door. The quest is to find Gwenifar's notes to figure out the location of the Loviatar Cult and do a rescue mission. This is what happens while the party is looking for those notes and making their way to the hideout. Word Count: 2,818 words Characters involved: Gwenifar van Hol, Klaudius Sarrick, Gale De.Karios mentioned (but to give an idea of what kind of discussion would happen with Gwenifar having a romantic partner) Point of Piece: To give a better illustration of the characters involved as well as background for Gwenifar's Act 3 personal quest. Warnings: Contains darker content, such as kidnapping, light coercion, discussion of future coercion, light torture, and just general creepy dude obsessed with someone vibes. By clicking read more, you acknowledge to read it and know you can back out of reading it at any time if anything is uncomfortable to you.

               She felt herself coming to, albeit slightly dizzy from the effects of poison which had been used on her. She swore at herself. How could she have been so…Blind? It never should have happened. As her vision started to come back, she slowly realized she was not in a place she recognized. Taking care as she sat up, she made note of the surroundings. It was a small, simple room. It was dark, with no windows and only a wooden door. The furniture was sparse, with a bed, and a chair.

               There was something that drew her eye, though. Above the bed upon which she was lain, was the symbol of Loviatar. So, she had been taken to the Loviatans’ lair, then. She knew the fate of any Ilmatari taken by them. She glanced towards the door, trying to figure out the best way to make an escape. A shame she didn’t have Astarion’s skill at lockpicking.

               But there were other possibilities if she had patience and paid attention to her possible openings. This appeared to be a holding cell of sorts, not where they would execute their rituals. Slowly, she rose to a stand, seeing if there was anything of use. Before she had a chance to take proper stock of her options, the door creaked open.

               She lifted her chin up, blue eyes blazing as the Loviatan entered. It was a woman, not the man they had met and spoke to her with an unsettling tone. The man she assumed had taken her. The woman had some clothing in her hand and in that moment, Gwenifar realized her own armor was gone, leaving just her underclothes.

               “You are to change and meet with Truescar Sarrick,” the woman told her. She wore the typical leather attire of the Loviatan, with a skirt and top, an amulet with Loviatar’s symbol on her neck. Riddled across her pale skin were scars and she wore them with pride.

               “If I refuse?” Gwenifar asked the shorter woman.

               A cruel smile spread across the woman’s lips. “I was hoping you would,” she said. “He said to make sure you do so by any means necessary. So, I could make it harder for you, or you do it of your own free will. The choice is entirely yours.”

               Gwenifar felt a fire building in her at the threat. She lunged at the woman, only to feel woozy from the effects of the poison. The Loviatan easily avoided, striking her on her cheek. Gwenifar let out an angry huff, glaring at her.

               “We can do that again, if you like, you pathetic Ilmat.” She spat the word like a curse as she stared down at Gwenifar. The time for her move wasn’t yet, then. Gwenifar wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, blue eyes a heated blaze as she rose to a stand.

               “I’ll change,” she said, holding her hands out for the garments.

               “Shame,” The Loviatan said, throwing the clothing to her in distaste. She turned to leave the room, allowing Gwenifar some privacy.

               This may very well be something Gwenifar could utilize. She had been seeking out this group prior to her kidnapping, wanting to put a stop to their work in Baldur’s Gate. Perhaps this was a moment to take advantage of, if she could come up with a feasible plan, then escape, and reunite with the others.

Thinking of the others caused a weight in her chest. An ache in her very being swelling into her throat. No, she wouldn’t think about that right now. Right now, she would focus on how to get out. And the first step was to play docile until she would be able to handle herself.

Gwenifar examined the garb given to her, noting it was black leather material. It had a long skirt, but the top was straps with different buttons and ways to figure out how exactly to put it on. She gave a bit of a huff, unsurprised at the choice. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, knowing very well her underclothes wouldn’t go beneath such attire.

“Hurry up in there.” The Loviatan was impatient, apparently. Gwenifar stripped down, quickly putting the attire on as quickly as she could. The skirt had cut outs at her hips, and she could feel the air nipping at the exposed skin there and on her torso. Wider straps to support her breasts but two thin straps wrapping around her abdomen, a strap around her collar bone to keep it in place. Running down the center of her torso was a vertical strap to keep it all in place.

“I’m changed,” Gwenifar called gruffly, annoyance clear in her tone. The Loviatan woman entered again, holding something in her hand. There was a cruel smile on her features, one Gwenifar knew not to trust. The woman removed the black silk covering of the object, revealing a black leather choker necklace with a large red ruby in the middle of it. Something felt…Wrong about it. As if there were some sort of magic tying it to something else. It made her stomach churn.

“The Truescar wishes for you to wear this gift from him,” the Loviatan woman explained. “He believes it will suit you nicely.”

“What is it?” Gwenifar said, staring at it in apprehension.

“Merely a trinket to show his interest,” the Loviatan explained. “He will be sorely disappointed if you do not wear it.” There it was. The underlying threat hung in her words. It would appear there was no choice to be had in the matter. The Loviatan saw the way her squared shoulders lowered, taking the sign of defeat with glee as she placed the piece of jewelry on her. The zing of magic gave a tingle on the back of her neck. A locking spell. She was collared like a dog.

“Follow me.” Despite her desire to spite her, Gwenifar knew better. Besides, this could give her a chance to take in where she was to figure out how she could escape. She watched as the shorter woman left the room and held the door for her. With a deep breath, Gwenifar crossed the threshold into the corridor, her mind taking in every detail to come up with a plan.

The halls were long, narrow, with little light from windows. It would prove to be difficult to navigate, given how they would twist and turn. But if her notes were correct, she would be somewhere in the lower city near the waterfront. She had been so close to figuring it out to contact the Flaming Fist before she’d been taken. She just wasn’t sure precisely where on the waterfront. There was a salty mildew smell, so that did confirm it.

Finally, they stopped walking at a large, ornate wooden door. The Truescar’s quarters, judging by the other signs about them of this being a residential wing of the complex. The Loviatan knocked on the door, the sound echoing against the cold stone around them.

“Enter,” the deep, male voice said from within. The same voice as the man from before she was so rudely taken. The Loviatan opened the door, revealing the dark room, lit with candles and a large door to what appeared to be a balcony. Perhaps that could be her way out. Everything else in the room was dark but lavish, with black silk curtains darkening the windows, and some paintings of true Loviatan flavor upon the walls. There were seating areas with chairs and couches and then another door; perhaps to the bed chamber. Something she did not want to think about.

In the middle of the room was a large table, set with food and prepared for dinner. Gwenifar had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the set up. It was terribly cliché, wasn’t it? And there was her host, standing beside the table in a black leather robe. It had silver garnishes on it, as well as fastenings to keep the various straps in place. So much work to put on Loviatan attire, it was almost laughable. The black leather made his pale and gaunt skin even more so in the dimly lit room. He made his way to them, his cold gray eyes scanning over her and her attire. Gwenifar couldn’t help the deepening glower on her face at that. Her eyes flitted to his hands, seeing a black metal ring with a red ruby on it, a similar but smaller cut to the one on the neckpiece she now wore.

“Leave us.” This was the first time Gwenifar thought two Loviatans was better than one. She looked over her shoulder as the woman who escorted her gave a bow before leaving, the door shutting and sounded like locking behind her. No one in and no one out until he said so, it seemed. She turned back to look at her captor, raising her chin a bit higher in defiance as she glared at him. This only seemed to amuse him as he walked up to her, stopping far too close to be proper.

“Sister Gwenifar,” he greeted. He made a motion to the table. “Shall we?”

“You ask me to dine with a viper,” Gwenifar told him curtly. “Who knows what toxins await for me.”

“You’re expecting me to just kill you now? After all of this?” He asked her, sounding offended.

“Hardly,” she threw back. “I’m surprised I didn’t awaken tied to some contraption for you to torture.”

“As lovely of a thought that is, I have other plans for you.” He moved beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back to forcefully guide her to the table. She spun on her heel quickly, slapping the arm away from her and giving him a contemptuous look.

“Don’t. Touch me.” There was a heated warning in her voice. She may not have her weapons or her armor, she may have the adverse effects of the potion still, but she was not going to be a lamb lead to slaughter.

“And who can touch you? Your wizard?” That caused her breath to hitch in her throat. Klaudius moved behind her, noting the change in her demeanor. “Oh, yes. I am quite aware of your adventures, your friends, and your love. That comes with having the correct allies.” He stopped behind her, leaning in where she swore she felt his breath on her neck. “Now, shall we try again? Take your seat.” There was a quiet threat laced in the order.

Gwenifar took a breath, squaring her shoulders and walking to the chair. Klaudius walked beside her, pulling out the chair and offering his hand to assist her in sitting down. She refused it, sitting down on her own. She kept her head forward, but her eyes briefly glanced to the perceived balcony door. When could she make her move?

Gwenifar could feel him hovering behind her. His hands resting on the back of the chair as he adjusted it a bit longer than necessary. Gwenifar remained on the edge of the chair to create distance. She eyed the cutlery before her, thinking carefully and waiting for a window.

“You see, that’s something I admired about you,” he began. “That fire. Your brothers and sisters were content with tending the wound after it was inflicted…But you…” Gwenifar felt a hand in her hair and she jerked her head away, using the motion to swipe the knife and tucked it beneath the table in her hand. His hand remained where it had been before pulling it back. “You were more invested in stopping the wound before it was struck. You have a passion about you, waiting to be unleashed in a way suitable for it.”

“My work is my passion,” Gwenifar argued, not keen on what he was suggesting.

“It sates you, but it’s not enough,” he countered, moving to seat himself on the opposite side of the table. “And thus, our game of cat and mouse began. You would try to figure out my next move, my next attempt to spread Loviatar’s glory, and attempt to stop it. Sometimes you would win, sometimes I would…” He gave a bit of a chuckle, picking up his glass of wine. “And I enjoy someone who stands on equal footing with me.”

“Quite conceited of you to think you stand equal with me.”

“What bravado,” he chuckled, picking up his cutlery and starting to cut into his meat. “But you don’t always have that confidence, do you?” He leaned back in his chair, watching her for her reaction. She hoped to not reveal anything. “Because you are just a simple cleric in service of Ilmater, are you not? With so little personal experience, just throwing yourself into your work and study to compensate for that. Your wizard, though…He’s lain with a goddess, from what I’ve heard. Besides that, I’ve heard of his acclaim and what his standing was in Waterdeep. If you succeed in your endeavor and everything ends well, what makes you think you could hold a candle to that?”

He was playing right into insecurities she had buried away. He had studied her, and apparently taken the time to study anyone close to her. Even in times like these. Save for taking deeper breaths and a heat to her cheeks as she simmered, she did her best to keep her body language in check. She narrowed her eyes at him, keeping her chin up and not letting him know the words did strike like a knife.

“It’s very rude to discuss my personal relationships when first meeting.” It was a deflection, and she knew he knew it. But it only seemed to amuse him.

“You’re right, where are my manners,” he said. “But where are yours? You haven’t touched your food. It’s very rude for a guest to refuse to eat when food is offered to them. Eat.”

“I have no reason to trust it.” Plainly spoken and not wanting to play these games. There was a sudden sensation around her neck, a tingling feeling turning into a painful feeling of a thousand little knives. She gripped the hidden knife, keeping herself from doubling over in pain. She gritted her teeth, blue eyes glaring at him. She would not give him the satisfaction. And that explained the ‘gift’ he would have been disappointed in her not wearing. He rose to a stand, finger tracing the ring she had noticed before.

“I do enjoy that will of yours,” he said, stalking closer. “And I cannot wait to break it. Tear it apart, bit by bit by bit until you submit entirely to my wants and commands.” He stopped beside her, reaching under her chin to tilt her face up to look at him. His hands were cold, devoid of any warmth like his eyes. Merely cruel excitement lay within them. “I will break you down and rebuild you how I want you to be, Sister Gwenifar. Allow you to reach your true potential underneath my Maiden of Pain.”

“If you’re so fond of pain, how about this!” Gwenifar took her opportunity, pulling out the hidden knife and aiming for an artery in his thigh. Missing the artery due to the angle, the knife still went in and caused him to start in surprise. Gwenifar took her chance, jumping up from the chair and running towards the balcony door. The tightening around her neck took her by surprise, as well as the yank pulling her back towards him. She stumbled back, realizing there was a magical leash tied between the ring and the choker. His hands were on her shoulders, straightening her up but having a death grip to keep her near him.

“That was absolutely delicious.” His tone was darkly excited and Gwenifar struggled against his grip. “But don’t think you’re too clever and can get away that easily.” The sound of someone at the door drew his attention. “This better be good,” he called, giving permission for them to enter. A Loviatan entered, giving a bit of a bowing head.

“There are intruders, Truescar Sarrick,” he told him. “The Ilmat’s allies.” The frustration on his face gave way to a darkly pleased smirk.

“So, they found us,” he said, turning back to look at Gwenifar, holding onto the magical leash. “What do you say we go say hello? And I’ll have them killed right in front of you? Especially your wizard. That’ll be fun to see your reaction, won’t it?” Her eyes widened, fear flowing through her veins at the thought. He had something up his sleeve to be so confident about it. But the fear gave way to anger as she glared at him.

“You won’t succeed,” she snarled, trying to pull away from the hold on the leash.

“Oh, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

[saintshigaraki]

Would kaiser let me milk his prostate?

if u say you’ll leave him if he doesn’t he’ll let you

[eventiderpg]

Glimpses Into The Opposition

Ten days of promotion litter the airwaves of Panem. Gleam Chryses is set to appear in District One. It's exciting as borders are projected to slowly reopen, according to Claudius Templesmith. There's a buzz within The Capitol as well as District One, as both are particularly fond of the Victor. Amongst Districts that remain favorable towards The Capitol, the buzz is alive too. And those that do not, there are whispers. What propaganda will Gleam and the mayor of District One be peddling?

It's the early hours of Day 71 of The Rebellion, specifically 0930. Whether on a screen or a holo, most citizens of Panem watch as the Victor of the 54th Hunger Games graces the broadcast. Together with the mayor, they speak confidently on the need for peace. They mention to remember what the rebels have cost all the good, gracious citizens of Panem. It's the same tune sung for over seventy-five years: a unified Panem is a strong Panem. Except this time, the song ends with a critically shot Victor and mayor.

What's not seen is how Gleam Chryses was coerced into going home. Her brother's head is dangled for her. The disloyalty of the Victor has long been known by Coriolanus Snow and his administration; the mayor is merely a casualty of circumstance. After the insurgents made their way into The Capitol to rescue the captives, the plan had been simple. Promote the event across Panem for over a week, and it's easy to point the finger at the ghastly rebels.

Screens turn to black, donning the Panem broadcasting logo. This includes District Thirteen, who had fallen victim of a bug that meant the broadcast could not be stopped. Those in District One were made to head to their homes, to give space for the wounded. Both are reportedly transported to The Capitol to be treated by the doctors that money can buy. It will be in vain.

On day 72, both are pronounced dead. A new mayor is appointed to One: Ferro Bertarelli, 62. He is Gloss Resplendence's uncle-in-law, and notably in favor of The Capitol. News is broken in two ways. Corduroy Falto is tasked with writing an editorial. It can be found HERE. Someone also leaked it to Eris Harrington, which is how it ends up HERE on her column.

It's all very controlled, and catered. Fear washes over the people of Panem. It seems The Rebellion is now targeting Victors and officials. Lyah Yazbek of District Five makes another appearance on Caesar Flickerman, denouncing the rebels. And even more chillingly, Cashmere Resplendence, Helios Argent, and Kyan Maddox make an appearance on Flickerman's program. They denounce the rebels as well, while silently reaffirming that One remains The Capitol's most loyal of Districts.

With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent05 as well as #eventidegito. This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. However, our players are now welcome to play through day 82! Happy roleplaying!

[t-n-c]

More tdp s5 spoilers under the cut

(TW: acts of coercion/violation will be mentioned)

With how imbalanced their relationship is and my prior concerns regarding Aaravos' history of coercive/violating behavior towards Viren, Sir Sparklepuff being established as Viren and Aaravos's child makes me reeeeeally uncomfortable.

[mvndrvke]

SYRIO ALTROSS

personals & non-mutuals, please don't reblog! trigger warnings : body dysmorphia, body modification, coercion, abuse note : syrio is an oc i've made up, so please don't steal him!

syrio was part of effie's life for years. with families that ran in the same social circles, it was inevitable that they got to know each other, and eventually began a relationship. it wasn't one of love; effie didn't love syrio, and he didn't love her. they made an attractive couple, and that was all that really mattered. effie just wanted to be admired.

syrio didn't propose. he gave effie a ring, and that was that. effie was excited, young and foolish enough to believe that was what she wanted. but attempts to plan a wedding were pushed aside by syrio. he wanted his future wife to be the best, the most beautiful, the most fashionable. effie was what she made and created. she was not afraid to change herself.

so she did. again, and again, and again. she was the height of fashion, the brightest gem at every party. she was so lucky, and everyone reminded her of that. effie reminded herself of that with each change and alteration. she was so lucky.

things changed after the 74th games. effie's delicate rules of the world was shattered, and she struggled to have faith in the life she'd built for herself. she traveled with katniss and peeta for their victory tour. things were fine, but when the reaping happened for the 75th games, syrio reacted with excitement to see his fiancee's victors compete in the games again. to him, it was a good thing, an exciting thing. to effie, it was the end. she gave back the ring and offered no further explanation.

after the initial shock, neither did syrio. it was a relationship void of feeling, and one that left effie feeling disappointed and disheartened. she'd shaped herself into the perfect thing, but she was still too different. many of the alterations she'd made to herself over the years for syrio she had undone. she hated her body, but at least it was as she'd chosen. that, at least, she could be happy with.

[darkdoverpseeker]

( 🕯️🕊️ ) 20+ female here, i’m looking for a partner that’s willing to write a younger male ( or even female ) for my more assertive older woman. oc x oc, mxf, fxf, literate, 3rd person. darker content could be included or at least spoken about with a partner if they’re interested ( i am but it’s not requirement ). i want someone that can communicate with me clearly and will be passionate about our plots just like i am! the plot i’m looking for will include an older woman ( milf ) helping out the younger male character so like maybe she’s his therapist, his mothers friend, his professor, maybe even he’s her sons best friend, yadda yadda yadda! anyways, their relationship would be skewed because of the inherit power imbalance between them.

i like manipulation, coercion, love-bombing, guilt-tripping. i like themes of abuse, esp the emotional kind where it starts out subtle but it becomes more and and more intense over a long period of time. this plot can be set back into setting like victorian or regency era or kept in modern universe or some sort of alternate timeline. i don’t mind! interests include, power play, dominant/submissive dynamics, edging, overstim, inexperienced/experienced, corruption, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, and more! partner limits will be respected, ofc! i love ooc chat, edits, and playlists. if you want more info about the overall plot, if you want to develop it into something completely different – give this a like and i’ll clamber into your dms.

like if interested!

[incaensio]

setting : pre plot drop, during flickerman's after party. with : finnick odair ( @secretlics )

finnick odair is always easy to spot. once upon a time, constantinus marveled at the team work, the genius that went into building that pretty, deadly kid from four into the most desired thing around — it took the boy, sure, but also his mentors, his stylists, the whole thing. a part of the marvel is still there, con would say, but most of it has been replaced by the disgust that settles deeply into his core. finnick odair had been a boy then, and there's not a hint of that anymore. constantinus can not be afford to think like that, of that, of that boy, when he walks in his direction and plants a kiss upon finnick's lips as a greeting. "sweetheart." drawls out in his capitol accent, smirk upon his lips. he'd throw up if he could. he knows it's not one-sided.

the action allows him some room. not a lot — their affair has made headlines a few times, but con has said in an interview he's not the extremely jealous type before, and finnick is always so generous to capitolites, isn't he? "oh, i'm so sorry to interrupt." the act continues, eyes widened as if he hadn't seen anyone but finnick around them; the cockroaches make a few noises, but linger still. "would it be too much to ask for some alone time? i know these people love you so, but don't i get some priority, darling?" he quirks a brow, no lovey dovey sweetness in his blue eyes as he looks into finnick's own, even if he has a hand upon finnick's shoulder. this is a game. they need to get out of it to speak properly.

"i have something i got for you, but it has to be private." the double - intended words resume the gagging instinct to his throat, but constantinus tightens his lips into a smile, and hopes he can get out of here before he throws up.

[primowishes]

"are you sure this is a good idea?" - Wrenn/Scara and Dottore with the chemical experiments? >:3

Dottore met the question with a smile. What other answer would he ever give to such a thing other than a firm 'yes'? If he hadn't thought it a good idea, he wouldn't have suggested it.

It really depended on what Scaramouche considered as such. Dottore could spend days picking him apart, removing pieces, and testing his reactions to all manner of stimulation, and he could consider each a very, very good idea.

"It's the same idea as before," he explained, instead of a simple 'yes' or 'no'. He lifted a hand, gesturing vaguely as he spoke, as if rationally outlining a standard procedure, rather than convincing Scaramouche to let him inject a light corrosive into his system

"I have a good idea of your recovery abilities, and your resistances, somewhat. In comparison, this is a minor next step."

There was some amount of truth to that, at least. Dottore wasn't pushing for much on this particular occasion. It was different from previous experiments enough that he didn't want Scaramouche to balk at it entirely.

"While poison isn't much of an issue for you, I want to find out if other substances that would cause physical damage to the body are. Not for nothing, of course," he said. "It's important to know what sort of substances your body can tolerate, because for humans, some will damage more than whatever power they might unlock. If it's you, however, they may be far more of use..."

And that was the carrot he dangled. This must remain a mutually beneficial partnership for the time being.

"In this case, if it turns out that it does harm your body, the pain will be mild, and the chemicals should break down quickly enough that it won't last long at all, even if it's a failed result."

@starlitwishes

[void-my-warranty]

TW: Dubcon, coercion, semi-public sex 18+

The 141 swear the clit is in the wrong spot and you show them proof.

They’re utterly convinced the clitoris exists below the vagina.

A whole team of adult men, half of them deadpanned and the other half hooting at your furious denial, mansplaining to you where the clit can be found. And they’re wrong.

That’s what the internet is for. That’s what diagrams are for. But it doesn’t matter how many you pull up and thrust in their faces, they’re scoffing and shaking their heads and telling you that in their experience, it’s located elsewhere.

“That photo’s upside down.”

No. It’s. Not.

“You sure? Bit, grainy, that one.”

The clit is right there. There. LABELLED.

“She’s bent over, or somethin’.”

IDIOTS!!!!

You should let it go, but you can’t. They’re so fundamentally wrong it hurts. Part of you is sorry for every pussy they’ve ever been with, and the other part just needs to make them understand, a desire so strong and so urgent that it makes you do stupid, stupid things…

Like take off your pants and show them for real.

Your outrage runs deeper than your shame, so you kick one boot off, yank all of your shit down until you can free up one leg, and plop your bare ass onto the rec room couch to show them once and for all.

“Here, look,” you huff, pointing to your pussy. “Right here.”

It’s Sgt MacTavish who moves, abandoning his spot next to the pool table to wander closer. “I don’t see nothing.”

With an exasperated breath, you scoot your ass forward and spread your knees nice and wide, and tap your finger right over your clit. “Can you see this, or are you fucking blind?”

He gives you a skeptical look, tilting his head and coming to stand right in front of you. “That’s just... skin.”

You're so mad, you barely notice how quiet it’s grown in the cramped room, with every one of them zeroed in on what’s happening on the couch.

“It’s right here. Here, Jesus. Just put your fingers right here, you can f-feel it.”

Your voice cracks on that one word because you know right then that you’re taking it too far. You should have given them up for lost causes, left them to their lifetimes of poor performance and let it go. But you couldn’t let it go, and now your heart is pounding because everyone is watching MacTavish’s fingertips find your very obviously there clit, and it shoots a jolt of something very confusing through your pelvis.

“Ahh,” he says, a little light of mischief in his eyes while he fumbles around it, beer held tight in his other hand. “That is something, I think.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the clitoris.” You’re half waiting for an apology, or at least for someone to admit that you were right, but instead you get MacTavish’s eyes dropping from your face to your pussy, watching his own fingers nudge against your sensitive clit.

A movement catches your eye — you watch LT take a few steps away, stopping to wedge the backside of his boot against the door so it can’t be opened from outside.

“Still think you’ve got it wrong,” Garrick grumbles, materializing beside MacTavish. “Both of you yanking my chain, now.”

You open your mouth to tell him to fuck off, but MacTavish beats you to it. “Nah, c’mere. It’s right here, I think.”

You gasp when his fingers get replaced by Garrick’s, fumbling around the exact same way, but up too high.

“Nothing there,” he says, so confidently.

For fuck’s sake.

You take his fingers and guide them lower, and— wait, how did he get slick, wet fingers? Did he spit on them beforehand?

“This little thing?” Garrick murmurs, sliding a little circle around your clit like he’s done it his whole life.

Your gaze wanders again to LT by the door, his arms crossed and eyes fixated, not on the hand moving against your pussy, but on your hot face, as if he’s watching intently for something specific to flash across your features. You’re pretty sure you just look a little horny and confused, legs twitching when everything starts to feel warm and syrupy inside your lower belly.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, yanking your attention back towards Garrick’s serious brown eyes above you. “You feel it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

You’re getting wet. They’re all watching, and you can feel yourself getting more and more turned on, becoming pliant beneath that minuscule touch. Do you like this? Do you like having the attention on you, while you’re— Christ, you’re naked in the rec room, past the point of proving anything. You’re just greedily keeping your knees spread apart, getting your clit fondled by your coworkers now for no good reason.

Garrick blinks down at the conflict on your face, and takes a slow breath. “I think—“

“Think you’ve had your fun, Garrick.”

The man responds immediately to Price’s voice, straightening up and giving his Captain a wide berth. You should do something, should make a move to put your clothes back on, but all you can think about — all you can feel — is the sudden absence of touch on your clit, the hunger and the throbbing inside that’s crying for something direct and persistent.

Price doesn’t bother with any pretense. His boots scuff the floor on his way over to you, watching your face as your embarrassment attempts to slam your knees closed, but your arousal tries to keep them open. All you manage to do is this pathetic little jerk of your legs that doesn’t communicate anything but how desperate you’ve become after getting touched by two of his men.

Price braces himself with one hand on the top of the couch, dropping his face down closer to yours than the other guys dared to come.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispers, smoothing his palm down your bare inner thigh. It’s warm and rough, confident as he runs his knuckles back lightly over your sensitive skin. “You’re thinking these horrible men have tricked you, and now you’re all wet and naked, and it’s going to be embarrassing to look anyone in the eye after this.”

Yeah, you’d probably be thinking that, if you had any thoughts left in your brain. You blink stupidly up at him, breaths coming faster when you feel his fingertips stroking against your poor, aroused little clit.

His eyes are as steady as his hand, giving you soft touches. “It’s okay. Not one of em is thinking less of you for getting a little wet.”

There’s a chorus of affirmative rumbles from behind him, and though that shouldn’t mean a fucking thing to you, all you feel is a hot wave of pleasure at knowing they’re pleased with you. Price is touching the most sensitive part of your pussy, and they’re all getting off on how you've responded to the attention. They may have tricked you into this in the first place, but you are giving this to them now. You’re letting them watch you get played with and get more and more turned on, heat rising across your skin while you’re relentlessly rubbed.

“We took it too far,” he admits. “Got you all hot and bothered when we should have backed off.”

His fingers skate down your cunt, not going inside, just coasting over the slick wetness you can’t help but have when you’re this turned on.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

A little whimper escapes you when he goes back up to where he was before, your inner muscles giving you an inescapable flutter of pleasure at the fact that he’s decided to keep going. Your eyes dart back over to Ghost, the dark gaze now fixed on your wet little pussy, and a noticeable bulge behind his zipper.

It’s so quiet in here. From outside the walls there are faint sounds of boots and male voices, but in here there’s just your shallow breaths, the heartbeat pounding in your ears, and the soft, wet sounds of a pussy that's enjoying being touched.

"Sir, I'm— I'm about to cum." Your hips curl upwards on their own.

"Don't you worry, love. Do what you need to do, and then we'll get you sorted."

You lick your lips, eyes darting around in sudden reluctance. Have any of them taken pictures without you knowing? Oh, god. This is going to ruin—

"None of em," Price says, loud enough to carry, "are going to mention a bloody thing about this. Right, boys?"

A round of "affirmative"s has you focusing back on your captain's eyes, for just a few seconds before everything melts.

Your eyes close right as you start to cum, focusing on the warm sensation and the flashes of memory — Ghost by the door, Garrick's already wet fingers, Price's voice—

Your knees spasm closed around his hand while you pant raggedly through it. You don't want to open your eyes. You can't bear to see them all, because even halfway through your orgasm you can feel the shame taking hold.

Slut.

A little sob escapes your throat, and you grip your hands into tight fists by your sides and prepare yourself for the end of your life as you know it, all because you got wet.

A second hand finds you, covers your eyes so that you couldn't see them even if you wanted to. Your body goes limp, like an animal turning docile after being hooded. The hand between your legs easily pulls away, giving your thigh one last caress.

And then you feel more hands. One keeping you blind, one gathering your pants, one guiding your bare foot back into your clothing. It's got to be three of them putting you to rights, and you just stay there in bewilderment, respecting Price's blindfold while someone laces up your boot.

When the room goes bright again, it's like it never even happened. Ghost is racking up a new game, MacTavish has his back against the wall, nagging Garrick about something he forgot to do. And Price has his back to you, heading for a cigar from his coat pocket.

You sit there for a minute, staring at your boots and focusing on that swollen, vague ache in your pussy. It's the feeling you know so well, telling you that if you could only get fucked a little more, you'd get to cum again.

When you finally find the strength to stand, you silently shuffle out of the room and make your way down the hall.

They definitely know where the clit is.

And now they know you're a slut.

Next Part (all parts here)

[filtheopathic]

getting all hot and heavy with him in a corner booth at the club or on the couch at a house party, and he’s trying to convince you to cockwarm him right there. he’s got his hand on the back of yours, pressing your palm into his crotch to show you how hard you’ve made him, all the while talking all low in your ear. “need to feel you so bad. i can’t wait. just sit on it, baby. come on, nobody will notice.”