#implied rape/non-con

[bloody-bee-tea]

June of (minimal) Doom 2024 Day 17 - You don't want to do that

If you haven't checked the tags then take this as your content warning for referenced/implied rape/non-con and forced prostitution.

When Satoru freezes at his side, despite the punishing beat that’s still going strong, Suguru realises that they shouldn’t have come to this frat party in the first place. When Satoru had asked him—almost begged him to come—he should have put his foot down and told him no, instead of giving in to his every whim like Suguru is prone to do.

They could have had a relaxing evening in their bed, instead of coming to this godforsaken party where the sight of someone is leaving Satoru frozen in fright but hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say.

They’ll just have to deal with this, whatever it is, and then Suguru can drag Satoru home, away from whoever is putting that horrible look on his face and cuddle him until he’s all better.

“Satoru,” Suguru says, his voice full of concern because he’s not sure Satoru has even taken a breath in the last minute and he is proven right when Satoru sucks in a shuddering breath.

“Suguru, I’m so sorry,” he gets out, his voice shaky and now that doesn’t make any sense of all.

Clearly it’s Satoru who is frightened; why the hell would he apologise to Suguru?

“If it isn’t Satoru-chan,” a reedy voice says and Suguru decides he doesn’t like the guy before he even lays eyes on him.

Seeing him doesn’t make it any better because the guy is leering at Satoru in a way that makes Suguru’s stomach churn.

“Mahito,” Satoru whispers out, one hand sneaking out to tightly grip Suguru’s sleeve as if he needs something to hold on to and Suguru shifts on instinct, puts himself slightly in front of Satoru as if he could shield him from this Mahito that way.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Mahito says, leaning around Suguru to better be able to look at Satoru and the way he doesn’t even spare Suguru a glance rankles in a way he’s not used to. “A true sight for sore eyes.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Satoru weakly says and then he addresses Suguru without ever taking his eyes off Mahito. “We wanted to leave, remember? Let’s go now, it’s getting way too crowded here anyway.”

“Aw, you don’t even want to catch up with your old friend?” Mahito asks before Suguru can react to Satoru’s words and Satoru finches as if he’s been hit. “I didn’t know you were in town or else I would have hit you up earlier.”

Suguru still has no clue what’s going on but even over the loud music he can hear the threat in those words. He has no idea who this guy is or what his history with Satoru is but Suguru knows that it can’t be anything good.

“Yeah, you’re right, let’s leave now,” Suguru says, reacting to what Satoru said instead of giving Mahito more time to speak but before he can even turn around to Satoru, Mahito’s hand shoots past him, snatching Satoru’s wrist in a way that must be painful going by the hiss he lets out.

“Mahito,” Satoru says warily, though he doesn’t try to remove his hand from his arm and Suguru can see the fear in his eyes.

“Get your hands off him,” Suguru says, reaching for Mahito’s wrist in turn and squeezing until he lets go of Satoru.

“You have quite the ape on your side it seems,” Mahito drawls out, roaming his eyes up and down Suguru’s frame and he feels dirty for it. “Why don’t you stay with me for a while, Satoru, I am much better company, as I am sure you remember.”

“No,” Satoru get out, and even though it’s quiet his voice is steady.

Suguru still has no real clue who this guy is or what’s going on but it’s clear that they have history and going by the surprise in Mahito’s eyes, he’s not quite used to Satoru telling him no. Suguru is immensely proud of him for that.

“Satoru,” Mahito warningly says and Satoru flinches back at that once more. “Come with me.”

His voice demands to be obeyed and there’s a split second where it seems Satoru moves without his conscious thought but then he steps closer to Suguru, hides behind his back and he says it again.

“No.”

Mahito’s eyes narrow in a way that makes Suguru shift his weight subtly in case the guy darts forward to attack and the motion must have been enough to bring his attention back to Suguru because his mismatched eyes fall on Suguru once more.

His gaze speaks of danger and it’s enough make a shudder run down Suguru’s back but it’s certainly not enough to make him cower in front of this guy.

Not when Satoru is this scared already.

“Ah, is this your latest boy-toy?” Mahito drawls out, addressing Satoru again. “He looks so boring.”

“Let’s go home,” Satoru repeats again and something cruel passes over Mahito’s face as he hears it.

“You don’t want to do that, Satoru. Walk away from me now and who can tell what will happen. Word of what you did back in the day might even reach your boy-toy and then what will he think of you? What will you do if he leaves you all alone after learning what you’ve done.”

Mahito’s voice makes Suguru sick to his stomach and it seems Satoru is not fairing much better because he’s pale and shaking and Mahito’s words are clearly getting under his skin.

“Shut up!” Satoru yells out, clearly scared out of his mind but it only makes Mahito laugh.

“You just need to come with me,” Mahito tells him again. “We had such a good time together, don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Satoru spits out and Suguru needs to get them out of Mahito’s presence right this moment because Satoru looks as if he’s about to throw up.

“Wonderful,” Mahito claps his hands together as if those are the greatest news he ever received. “Then let’s go back together. I’m sure there are so many people who’d love to see you again!”

Suguru doesn’t think. He feels Satoru flinch again and it’s as if his body is moving on it’s one. He practically watches how his arm flies out, hand curled into a fist and in the next moment it connects with Mahito’s face.

Mahito crumbles like a puppet with its strings cut and some people around them stumble back when they realise what just happened.

“Suguru,” Satoru yells out and pulls him back. “We need to leave, come on, we have to go!”

He’s yanking on Suguru’s arm and even though Suguru would love to do nothing more than to wait for Mahito to pick himself up again so he can beat him down again, he reluctantly follows Satoru as he drags him out of the house.

“You think someone saw?” Satoru mutters once they are outside and Suguru huffs out a laugh.

“A lot of people saw. Question is if any of them care.”

“Right, right,” Satoru gives back and then falls silent.

He stays that way all the way back to their apartment and Suguru decides against pressing for now. It’s clear that meeting Mahito was not a good thing and Satoru seems more than rattled right now. Suguru doesn’t want to make matters worse by asking questions out in public, so he’ll wait until they are in the privacy of their own home.

“Come to the bathroom, we have to treat your hand,” is the first thing Satoru says after the door is closed behind them and Suguru looks down at his hand.

He didn’t even realise he split the skin open with his punch but he dutifully follows Satoru.

“Satoru, are you okay?” he asks him once he’s seated on the toilet, Satoru kneeling in front of him and he immediately bites his tongue when Satoru flinches.

“I should be asking you that, you’re the one who’s bleeding,” he still gives back and even smiles at Suguru but Suguru knows him well enough to see the strain behind it.

“Satoru,” Suguru mutters and reaches out with his uninjured hand to cup Satoru’s cheek in it. “Are you alright?”

There’s a beat of silence before Satoru chokes out a “No”.

It’s not a surprise, not with how shaken up he still seems and so Suguru simply nods.

“Are you—not going to ask?” Satoru haltingly asks once he deems Suguru’s hand treated enough for now and Suguru hums in thought.

“It came as a surprise to you to see him,” he states and even though it’s not a question, Satoru still nods. “And you don’t want to see him again.”

“Never,” Satoru spits out and even though there’s anger blazing in his eyes now, his hands are still shaking with fear.

“Okay,” Suguru simply says and Satoru stares at him as if he grew a second head.

“Yeah, right,” he then says, disbelief colouring his voice and Suguru sighs.

“Satoru, you could have murdered someone and I wouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Satoru laughs hysterically and it sets Suguru on edge. He wishes he could ease whatever it is right now that’s plaguing Satoru but he doesn’t know how to.

“It’s so much more degrading than that,” Satoru whispers and there’s a crazy look in his eyes. “And if I tell you then you’ll ask for the why and when I tell you about that—you won’t get it, you’ll think I’m such a spoiled, stupid brat who doesn’t even appreciate what he has and then there’ll be that and the disgust of what I have done, what was done to me and then you’ll leave me!”

Satoru’s voice cracks over the last words and Suguru’s heart splits clean in two when tears fall down Satoru’s cheeks.

It seems he has already decided on what will happen in their future, but Suguru is not going to accept that vision, because there is no way in any universe where he’s going to leave Satoru.

“Satoru,” he says, his voice strong and steady and Satoru’s eyes immediately snap to his as if he doesn’t have another choice.

Suguru doesn’t know what happened to Satoru—though with what he just said there’s a sickening suspicion forming in his mind and even though Suguru would love to reject that completely it would explain why Satoru sometimes gets so peculiar about anything physical between them—and in all honesty he knows so little about his past that it should probably bother him, but Satoru never talked about it and even when Suguru pressed he skirted around the questions with meaningless non-answers and eventually Suguru got the hint. He stopped asking and Satoru started relaxing.

And no matter what it is that Satoru did, that was done to him, Suguru doesn’t care.

“Whatever you did, whatever you had to do, it all led you to me, so I don’t care. If it means you found your way to me then I don’t care. You’re here, now, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Satoru blinks at him, clearly taken aback by what Suguru just said and Suguru thinks he might have fucked up when Satoru’s tears flow even more freely.

“How can you even say that?” Satoru sobs out eventually and Suguru pulls him into a hug.

“Because I love you.”

And really, it’s as easy as that for him. He loves Satoru and whatever it is that happened in his past and with Mahito, it’s clearly upsetting to Satoru, so Suguru is not going to judge him for any of it should Satoru ever want to tell him.

“Do you want us to move?” Suguru asks once Satoru’s sobs have died down a little bit and he curses himself when that sets Satoru off once more.

“You would just do that?” he cries out and Suguru shrugs.

“Satoru, you’re my everything. If you think you’re not safe here anymore, if you’re going to be afraid after meeting Mahito in this city, then we’ll move, no questions asked.”

“How can you still be like this when I’m keeping so much from you?” Satoru wants to know and he sounds exhausted down to the bone, so Suguru makes the executive decision to move them to the bed.

Satoru is still in his arms, awkwardly perched on his lap, but that makes it easy to simply tighten his arms around him and standing up, much to Satoru’s surprise it seems because his squeak nearly makes Suguru go deaf.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” Suguru tells him. “I’m exhausted and you’re no better.”

Satoru doesn’t argue with him which lets Suguru know just how tired Satoru really is and in a matter of minutes they are safely cocooned in their blanket.

“It doesn’t matter to me how much you keep from me,” Suguru says, once Satoru is curled into his arms. “I just know that today was upsetting to you and I’m trying to figure out how to make it better.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru whispers and Suguru growls at that.

“You deserve everything,” he fiercely says and is not surprised when he feels new tears soak his shirt.

“That’s not true,” Satoru mutters, “you’ll see. I’m going to—I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Suguru thinks that he should probably agree enthusiastically to that but seeing Satoru this distressed today really puts a damper on things.

“Only if you want to,” he mutters and kisses the top of Satoru’s head. “Only if you feel ready.”

“I’ll never feel ready,” Satoru admits and leans back to properly look at Suguru. “But you said it wouldn’t matter to you, no matter what, and I—I trust you more than I am afraid,” he goes on and Suguru loves him so much it feels as if he’s drowning in it.

“I love you,” he breathes out and when Satoru leans in for a kiss he doesn’t even mind that it tastes salty.

“I love you,” Satoru replies when they part and there’s a new resolve in his eyes.

Suguru will not let whatever it is that Satoru will tell him tomorrow change anything but he definitely knows one thing: he’ll be immensely proud of Satoru for facing whatever it is that haunts him.

And once everything is said and done, Suguru will make sure to remind Satoru that he still loves him—always will—and then they’ll figure out their future.

But they’ll do that together, too.

[lover-of-midnight]

The very noisy night

Rating:

Mature

Archive Warning

:

Rape/Non-Con

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs

Relationships:

Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Characters:

Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Additional Tags:

Hurt/Comfort

Angst

Night Terrors

Worried Chuuya

hurt dazai

Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con

Past Rape/Non-con

Whumptober 2022

Day 9

Language:English

Collections: Whumptober 2022

Chuuya forced himself to breathe normally as he tried to sleep. A sigh slipped through his lips as Dazai turned again. Tomorrow was going to be a long day if he didn’t get to rest and soon.

“OI shitty Maceral, what is wrong?” His voice started lightly but the annoyance slipped through by the end.

Dazai was silent for a few seconds, stilling himself as much as possible. “Nothing.” His voice was almost dead as he spoke.

Chuuya forced himself upright turning to face his boyfriend. It wasn’t the first time they were sharing a bed so why on earth was Dazai acting like this?

“Something is bothering you.” A mere fact, nothing to be questioned. In the years they have been together Chuuya managed to learn some of the subtler ways Dazai would show he was at his end. And for some reason tonight seemed like such a night.

Al he caught was a quick sake of head as Dazai turned away from him. A frown formed as he leaned slightly to Dazai, running his fingers through the soft strands.

“I know you, you are trying to hide. To push the pain away until it is eating you alive. You don’t need to do that here Dazai.” Chuuya tried to keep his voice as calm as possible when he spoke. Wondering if it ever would get better.

With careful movements, Chuuya managed to turn Dazai back to him. The frown deepened when he saw the tear tracks staining Dazai’s cheeks and his red puffy eyes.

“What happened love?” Chuuya pulled Dazai to his chest. Sometimes he forgets they are still just teenagers trapped in a situation without a way out. They continue doing what they need to do to survive even when they just want to give in and day.

Dazai shook slightly as he bit his lip. It won’t help to talk about it and if Mori found out, Chuuya would be in the line with the treat. Mori would then just come after him.

A thumb soothed over his lip slightly, whipping away the blood.

“Talk to me Dazai. I can’t help if I don’t know what is going on?” There was a firmness in Chuuya’s voice that made Dazai almost freeze.

“I = I can’t” The words came out between sobs “Ch-Chibi will then be in danger.” The last part slipped out even though Dazai didn’t want to admit to the danger.

Chuuya took a deep breath, realising that this was more than he knows about. “In what sort of danger would I be?”

“H-he will hurt you. If he finds out you know he will hurt you as well.” Dazai tried to pull away from Chuuya, but blind panic set in. He knows too much. Mori will find out he knows.

“Is someone hurting you Dazai?” It took everything in Chuuya not to go on a rampage at the mere thought that someone might be hurting his love.

Dazai froze at the question, knowing that there isn’t a way to avoid the truth. Al he could do was violently shook his head.

Blue eyes closed for a second as the despair kicked in, how many times didn’t people try to hide what was going on?

“Whatever it is Dazai, we can figure something out, but then you need to tell me what is going on.” Chuuya made his voice slightly sterner than he would have liked.

Dazai froze at the tone. His mind almost shut down. “Please I will be good Chu…” His voice broke slightly as fresh tears started up.

Chuuya fell silent unsure of what to say to that. “All right, we will speak about this in the morning.” Chuuya could tell he won’t be able to get anything else out of Dazai even if he tried, so maybe it would be better if they just leave the conversation for now.

Dazai will tell me when he is ready. Chuuya just didn’t know it would only be a few hours later.

Chuuya sat up with a start when he heard whimpers coming from his side. It took him a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. He whipped his head to Dazai who was trying to make himself as small as possible. Limps trembling against whatever horror his mind was dicing up.

“Dazai.” Chuuya placed his hand on his shoulder, wanting to shake him awake.

All that happened was that Dazai curled more into the ball form he was in. Begging someone to stop and that he would be good.

A frown formed as Chuuya gently started to peel the blankets away, running his fingers through Dazai’s hair, whispering that he was safe.

It took a little bit before he managed to get Dazai awake. But his heart broke, even more, when Dazai hid against his chest, crying.

“What happened Luv?” Chuuya made sure to keep his voice as calm as he possibly could. Wishing that he could take all of Dazai’s pain away.

“Mori-san, was angry about the last mission because we failed. Made sure to remind me of what would happen if we fail again.” Dazai’s voice was small as he whispered the last part, he didn’t want it to happen.

He tried, he tried.

“What did Mori do?” Chuuya had a good idea of what Dazai was talking about but he knows Dazai needed to say it on his own.

Dazai violently shook his head. He didn’t even want to think about it, never mind speak about it.

Chuuya sighs slightly. “Dazai did he touch you?” His voice even, even though he could feel everything in him trembling, the screaming in his even worse than normal.

A small nod was all he got. Dazai closed his eyes wishing that the conversation would be over with. That they can just pretend that nothing had happened and be done with it.

“Let’s leave then. We have enough money that we can live comfortably until we are old and dead.” Chuuya tightened his arms slightly keeping Dazai close to him.

“I like that.” Dazai’s voice was heavy as the tiredness dragged him down.

“Go to sleep, I will figure it out.” Chuuya ran his fingers through Dazai’s hair until he was sure the boy was fast asleep. There would be a lot to do and too little time to get everything done.

But he will make sure by the time Dazai’s awake again that he would be safely away from the Mafia, no matter the cost.

[wangxianficrecs]

I'd Be Home With You by thunderwear

I’d Be Home With You

by thunderwear

T, 5k, Madam Lan/Cangse Sanren

Summary: “And if I steal her away?” “Then we figure it out together.” What if Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze took Madame Lan and her children from Cloud Recesses to live happily ever after? Kay's comments: Sometimes I just think about Mama Lan and I get so sad. She deserved better, OK? And today, in my time of need, this fic came to me and offered my a lovely canon divergence where Mama Lan was Cangse Sanren's first love, so of course she's going to Gusu to break her out of her jail and of course Wei Changze is there too, absolutely supportive. Cangse Sanren has two hands!! One for Mama Lan and one for Wei Changze. And I love that for all of them. Excerpt: “Do you want to meet my son?” She asked, giving one last squeeze to Luo Sihua’s waist. They pulled back to look down at A-Ying who hid a little bit farther behind her robes at the sudden attention. There was one last hitch to Luo Sihua’s chest before she took a deep breath and then leaned down to introduce herself to A-Ying. “You can call me Madame Lan.” The fury that ripped her was unexpected but not undeserved. He’d taken everything else from her, and now she didn’t even have her name? “No.” Wei Ying jolted in surprise beside her when she spoke and hid his face in her robes again, but she didn’t have it in her to care. She was too angry. “No, A-Ying, you’ll call her Luo Sihua.” Luo Sihua looked up and met her gaze with a soft, sad expression on her face, and neither of them looked away as Cangse Sanren bit out, “My son will not call you by his name.”

pov cangse sanren, canon divergence, cangse sanren and wei changze live, madam lan live, madam lan deserves better, cangse sanren/madam lan, cangse sanren/wei changze, family feels, polyamory, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, gusu lan sect rules, lan family feels, wei wuxian isn't adopted by the jiangs, families of choice, fix-it

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[lifblogs]

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Explicit Pairings: Royce Hemlock/Tech (Non-Consensual Pairing), Tech/Phee, Tech & Crosshair & Wrecker & Hunter & Omega & Echo Word Count: 3632 Summary: Tech is facing his first mission since Tantiss with trepidation. A word said to him in comfort is enough to bring repressed and forgotten memories to the surface, and he feels like he's being torn apart inside. WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, PTSD, Flashbacks, Attempted Self-Harm, Near-Attempted Murder-Suicide, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Author's Note: I'm so sorry.

[minty-mumbles]

Febuwhump Day 13: Forced to Harm a Loved One

Read the full collection of my febuwhump ficlets on AO3

~~~

“N-no, no!” 

Warriors cringed internally as he heard Wild’s cries. It was terrible having to listen to the sound of his pleading and know that it was he who was causing Wild so much pain. He was the one responsible for this, he was the one choosing to do this to Wild. He was-

Warriors did his best to shake off those thoughts. It wouldn’t help anyone if he fell into a downward spiral of horrible thoughts. Wild needed him to be present and aware. And really, Warriors wasn’t the one who was hurting him. Not that he would ever say it- and certainly not now- but it was Four who was the one causing Wild’s pain. 

Warriors was just the one holding him down, not letting him get away or buck Four off of him where the smithy was straddling Wild’s weakly kicking legs. 

Warriors was just the one holding him down, and that was almost worse. 

Wild was a free spirit. Warriors had known from the day he’d met the champion that he was a hard one to pin down, figuratively and literally. He was always moving and didn’t like being told to stay still. (One time Legend had snapped irritably at Wild about his habit of rocking back and forth on his feet, and the look WIld had shot the veteran had been absolutely scathing. No one ever mentioned that particular habit of his again.)

Being told not to wander off was also irritating to the champion, but at least he’d finally gotten in the habit of letting them know when he was planning on disappearing. Warriors thanked the stars for that, as it had saved them more than one headache in the past few months.

All of this put together signaled a very free-spirited hero.

Warriors had always suspected that Wild had some sort of issue with being restrained or confined. For a split second of selfishness, Warriors wishes he was not having that suspicion confirmed.

But the life of a hero wasn’t easy. The battlefield was a dangerous place, and even if a delirious hero pleaded and begged, his blood-soaked bandages needed to be changed. Warriors wished that they hadn’t let Wild put his tunics back on after dressing his wound in the first place. But they couldn’t’ve known that the wound would end up becoming infected.

Warriors looked up to check the process, trying to gauge how much longer this was going to go on and how much longer he would need to listen to his brother cry. The smithy’s eyes were frantically cycling through nearly all the colors of the rainbow, but he kept as steady a hand as possible in this scenario. 

It took a great deal of careful maneuvering to get Wild out of his Champions’ tunic. They persisted though, even as Wild cried out in pain and panic. 

If it had been anyone else, they would have simply cut the tunic off and spared themself the trouble. But they both knew that Wild would kill them later if they destroyed the tunic his Zelda had made for him. They didn’t bother to be so careful with his undertunic, simply using Warriors knife to cut it off of Wild. He would be able to borrow one of the others' spare tunics until the group reached the next town. 

The entire process of removing his clothes so they could get at his bandages seemed to be agony for Wild. Warriors knew from experience that lifting your arms when you had an injury on your side hurt. But it wasn’t only that. 

“No, stop, I don’ wan- I don’ wanna take m’ clothes off. Sto’ it- Four, stop.” 

Wild’s words were slurred but still understandable. Warriors risked a glance up at Four, and found that the smithy looked like he wanted to cry to. He visibly steeled himself, took a deep breath, and continued. His eyes had settled on purple and green, the blue and red retreating from his gaze. 

Warriors tried to follow his example, taking a steadying breath and trying to ignore Wild’s wails.

Wild may be confused and combative- as evidenced by the bruise forming on Four’s cheek- and more than a little out of touch with the situation, but he was obviously still present enough to recognize the two of them. It only made the situation worse, that Wild was able to call out their names when he begged for them to stop. 

Wild had taken his shirt off in front of the rest of the group plenty of times, not to mention the time he had shown them all his cars. But there was a difference between removing clothing consensually when you were lucid enough to understand what was happening, and having your clothing removed and cut off when you were only partially present in your own mind. 

Warriors felt sick.

Maybe Wild had no reason to be this defensive. Maybe he was just delirious and confused. That still wouldn’t make it okay, but it would make the whole situation easier to smooth over when Wild comes back to himself. But Warriors had a sinking suspicion that the issue ran deeper than that.

Maybe, Warriors hoped, Wild simply didn’t want to show off his scars. The champion acted rather nonchalant about them, but that didn’t mean he was obligated to show them off. 

But maybe, Warriors shuddered, maybe Wild was afraid of something, something that Warriors himself had been through and would never wish on anyone. There were very few reasons someone would try to forcibly remove someone else’s clothes, and none of them were good. 

To Wild’s hazy mind, which obviously didn‘t recognize that he needed to change his bandages, there would be only one option left. Being held down and stipped out of his tunic… 

Warriors’ next breath came out as a shuddering gust of air, and he had to resist the urge to gag.

The cries of their names made it obvious that Wild knew who was trying to get his clothes off. Warriors and Four were only trying to help, but from Wild’s point of view? 

Warriors wished the other heroes were here. Twilight, at least, would be able to help soothe the panicked champion. The ranch hand had a way with the wild hero, and always managed to calm him. Maybe restraining Wild wouldn’t’ve even been necessary in the first place.

Anyone else would have been a help too. Just having someone there to reassure Wild who was actively trying to disrobe him or holding him down would have made their task easier.

But there was no one else here. It was only Four, Warriors, and Wild, alone in a strange era. The other heroes were Hylia-knows-where, separated from the three of them by the very fight that had injured the champion. 

Leadership now fell to Warriors. He was the oldest, and the highest up in the pecking order the heroes had seemed to naturally fall into, back when they had first met. He was the one in charge.

Normally, Warriors would not flinch at this. He was one of the finest captains in the Hyrulean military. He was more than used to leading, even if he had to make a hard decision that might hurt some of the people under his commands. 

But selfishly, Warriors wished that just this once, the burden of making hard decisions did not rest on his shoulders.

[samanddean76]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: John Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Wesson, John Wesson, Zachariah (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - It's a Terrible Life (Supernatural), Angry Sam Winchester, John Winchester Tries, Sam Winchester Has a Plan, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but it's not real, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Still Not Real, Revenge, Or Justice, Mystery to be solved, Prompt Fill Summary:

Sam Wesson is trapped in a dead-end job, all the while supporting his father. Or is he? The only thing he knows for sure is that he's in love with his father, and the dreams are getting worse. But Sam has a plan, that hopefully will earn him the one thing he wants more than anything in this world. His father's admiration.

[wellthebardsdead]

The loved & the forgotten pt6

Part 5 here

———

Vivienne: *wrapped in Kaidans cape as Taliesin carries him down the hill back to the horses, whole body aching from the ordeal he’d narrowly survived* im sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…

Taliesin: *tears freezing to his face as he trudges through the snow holding the smaller elf tight* shhh don’t apologise, we’ll get you back into the city and take you to a healer alright?…

Vivienne: *just staring off into blank space, eyes glazed over as his mind struggles to process everything that’s happened* I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…

Taliesin: *sighs and gently covers his face with the dark fabric to keep him warm before looking back to see Kaidan throwing the spear away for the hundredth time* Kaidan give it up! It’s going to keep coming back to him!

Kaidan: *catches it as it comes flying back like a boomerang* HOW THOUGH!? *snaps it over his knee only for it to reform* WHAT EVEN IS THIS FUCKING THING?!

Taliesin: I don’t know but it’s clearly bound to him, I’m sure that Neloth fellow can tell us when we get to solstheim. *pulls himself up onto his horse and holds Vivi in his arms*

Vivienne: I don’t want to meet him anymore…

Taliesin: I?… why not love?…

Vivienne: *looks up at him with such sad hopeless eyes* I know the truth now… I know why I’m so despised… why I’m not allowed near the temple… why the daedra want me dead… except for… *feels the ring on his finger and tears up again* I don’t understand anything anymore…

Taliesin: shhh *leans down and presses his forehead to his* can I kiss you?…

Vivienne: *sniffles and shakes his head breaking into sobs again* I’m c-covered in piss.

Taliesin: …I was wondering what that smell was…

Kaidan: *suddenly climbs onto his horse, spear nowhere in sight* right, let’s get going.

Taliesin: I… Kaidan-

Kaidan: don’t ask, let’s just go.

Muatra: *stuck under a bunch of stones from boethias statue and tangled up in the sticky webs of the cocoon Mephala had created to protect Vivienne. Rattling violently as it tries to escape and return to its masters hand, following the enchantment Vivec placed on it long ago*

*A few hours later*

Vivienne: *laying on a bed in the white phial, now clean and warmly dressed, letting out soft frightened whimpers as Quintus inspects the full extent of the damage*

Kaidan: d-do you really have to look in that deep?

Quintus: *kneeling between the dunmers legs* yes though- outside of an extreme amount of bruising he thankfully has no further physical damage though- mental and emotional damage I’m afraid I can’t heal… Did he tell either of you who did this to him? Judging by the bruising on his pelvis and hip bones and the- claw marks on his torso, I’d say he’d been molested by a frost troll.

Taliesin: no he wouldn’t say, he just keeps repeating that he’s sorry and he knows the truth now… but it wasn’t a frost troll I assure you, whoever it was-

Vivienne: *staring up at the wooden ceiling* Molag Bal…

Everyone: *goes silent*

Kaidan: Molag b-WHUGH!!! *suddenly gets pinned to the wall by his cape as muatra explodes through the window and stabs into the fabric and old wood* ugh… fock…

*a few more hours later*

Vivienne: *laying in his bed in the corner club, Kaidan & Taliesin both sitting beside him, tentatively letting him know they’re there but both too scared to lay beside him just yet in case they frighten him after what he went through*

Kaidan: *gently stroking his hand, letting the dunmer feel how warm his skin is, how full of life he is* shhh, it’s just me lyrebird, don’t be scared…

Taliesin: *brushing his now clean fluffy white hair from his face* would you like anything before bed?… I can make you that tea you’d li-

Vivienne: *sniffles and sits up hugging onto both of them wanting to be held and comforted*

Taliesin: *looks to Kaidan and nods* I’ll lay by the wall and-

Kaidan: he’s in the middle and I’ll guard you both with my body.

Taliesin: I- was going to say so he’ll have room to move if he wakes up in a fright but… yes… thank you, love…

Kaidan: *presses his forehead to his and gently strokes the altmers cheek* okay climb in- *carefully moves Vivi into his arms* I’m just holding you now okay Vivi?… you know We’d never touch you without your consent…

Vivienne: *nods sadly and rests his head against his chest as Taliesin gets comfortable* I know… I’m sorry I went off on my own… I wanted to get rid of the sword- I wanted to be left alone I just-

Kaidan: shhh, you don’t need to apologise… we’re not mad… *looks up to see Taliesin waiting looking equally as tired and concerned as him* okay we’re going to lay you down now, if you’re scared you can tell us alright?…

Vivienne: *nods and curls up a little as Kaidan lays him down, feeling so pathetic and small* i should be used to this… being used like this… I’ve been touched like that hundreds of times why-… why am I so afraid now?…

Taliesin: *tucks the blanket up over him and let’s him see where he’s resting his hands* I’d be surprised if you weren’t frightened after that ordeal…

Kaidan: He’s called the prince of rape for a reason, love… *lays down beside him letting him see every movement he makes, both him and Taliesin utterly terrified any wrong movements could trigger a panic reaction*

Vivienne: he said… I’m his spouse?… his bride he called me… Vivec- me?… I?… married him a long time ago and when the nerevarine destroyed the heart of lorkhan Vivec- slept with him and… gave birth to me as- his new life…

Taliesin: you gave birth… to yourself. I… given everything I’ve read about vivec that honestly makes a lot of sense but… this still isn’t good…

Kaidan: you’re telling me… he’s married you without your consent-*spots the ring on Vivienne’s finger* is that-

Vivienne: *holds up his hand looking at the ring* …no, it’s not a wedding band it… was the ebony blade I think but… Mephala- when she saved me she… said this ring would keep me hidden but I don’t understand how…

Taliesin: maybe it’s ench- *eyes going wide watching as vivienne clenches his hand and suddenly disappears entirely* LOVE?!

Kaidan: VIVI?! *feels the bed in a panic and earns a surprised giggle as he unintentionally pokes his armpit*

Vivienne: *opens his hand and snickers a little at their responses* oh it turns me invisible!

Kaidan: *sighs and smiles with relief, just so happy to make him laugh after the horror he’d endured* don’t scare me like that.

Taliesin: *smiles and holds his hand close to his dunmer lovers* can I hold and kiss you goodnight dear?…

Kaidan: me too love?…

Vivienne: *smiles sadly, feeling loved that they care enough to ask but feeling terrible that they feel like they have to* you don’t have to ask me- I’ll always say yes- *blushes as Taliesin takes his hand in his and kisses his forehead while Kaidan just hugs him close*

Taliesin: We want to be sure we won’t scare you…

Kaidan: You went through something traumatising love… we don’t want to slip up and make you relive it.

Vivienne: *looks up at them before rubbing his eyes as tears begin to form* o-oh- s-stop making m-me cry- *sniffles* I’ve cried enough today I… j-just hold me…

Taliesin & Kaidan: *both smile at each other then at him before embracing one another and their dunmer lover*

Taliesin: …Kaidan where’d you put the spear?

Kaidan: … I left it at the phi- *jumps as it suddenly smashes through the window stabbing into the wall above the bed* …

Taliesin: …

Vivienne: …can one of you move it please id rather not be laying under it again.

[jianghushenanigans]

Whumptober Day 17: Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

A possessive hand trails across the back of his shoulders. Lan Jue tries not to shrink away from the touch he once craved. He knows that moving away will only make him angry.

He cannot make him angry.

“Peizhi, ah, Peizhi.” His face is right next to Lan Jue’s ear. “What are we going to do with you?”

He can’t see it, but he knows the False Emperor is smiling, because he knows him, he knows him, back before he proclaimed himself Emperor, before he forced Lan Jue into whatever this is. Back when they were just Peizhi and Shulin, exploring each other’s bodies with all the time in the world.

A hand snakes over his shoulder, under his collar, across his chest.

This time Lan Jue can’t help but jerk away in revulsion, but there’s nowhere to go but back into the False Emperor’s body. Instead of getting away he is only gripped tighter.

“Ah, Peizhi, I knew that sooner or later you’d let yourself have what I know you’ve been missing so much.” A kiss is pressed just below his ear. He flinches, and this time the False Emperor lets him topple to the floor, merely staring down at him with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Leave me alone!”

The smile on Shulin’s face grows broader, horribly familiar. He reaches out, stroking a thumb across Lan Jue’s cheekbone.

“You don’t really want that, Peizhi, I know you don’t.”

“I do!” Lan Jue tries to move his head away, but Shulin’s fingers tighten on his jaw.

“Oh, you do, Peizhi? You want me to leave you alone here, while I go and find Lan Hui?”

Lan Jue had his mouth open to protest again, but it snaps shut at the mention of his son. His son, who he had sent away for his own protection, who he hadn’t realised would be safer closer to home.

“If you want me to leave, then, Peizhi, so be it.”

Shulin pulls away, and Lan Jue… Lan Jue reaches out to keep him there. To make him stay. Because as much as he hates it, as much as it makes his skin crawl, if Shulin is with him he isn’t with a-Hui.

For a second, the expression on Shulin’s face is open, happy. A second staring at whatever expression he can read in Lan Jue’s face has the smile melting into a sneer.

“You’ll have to ask for it, Peizhi. Ask me to stay. Beg me to stay.”

Lan Jue swallows. Lets go of Shulin’s sleeve. Shifts his body around into a proper kneeling form. Bows his head.

“Your Majesty.” The words get stuck in his throat, but he manages to choke them out. “Your Majesty, would you please give this one the honour of your company?”

“Give who, Peizhi?”

Lan Jue knows what he wants. Knows exactly what he wants. Blinks back the tears that come to his eyes.

“Your… your wife. Would your majesty please give this wife the honour…”

Shulin is already on him, hand on his face, pulling him up into a bruising kiss.

Lan Jue doesn’t know how long he can live like this.

A sequel to this

Crossposted here on ao3

[quotidian-oblivion]

Fic Rec To Fill Your Angst Needs

My Mummy Has Tattoos - I_is_a_fangirl_yee - Batman - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

sO. @mispeltnostalgia (Nogolsta/Nog) wrote this fic. It had started out as an English assignment until I, the bastard, came and inspired Nogolsta to turn this into a full fic.

It is very good. Ft. Jason Todd + unreliable narrator to the extreme.

And when I mean extreme, I mean extreme. 'Cuz I screamed. Out loud. In class. Several times.

ouch.

Please do mind the tags though.

[taxi-cab-to-slowtown]

I'm the Mole

Chapter 30: Swan's Playtoy

For Taxi's 366 Day 60: "flub"

Ships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Barry Allen/Hal Jordan/Iris West Rating: Mature Fandom: DC Comics Warning: Implied rape/non-con Link to I'm the Mole on Ao3 Why am I doing this?

fic update below cut

Bart stopped next to them. “You alright?” 

Hal was laughing into a scowling Barry’s shoulder. “I thought you were dying,” Barry cried. Hal continued to laugh. Bart watched the two of them in confusion. 

“I don’t know what’s so funny?” Bart screwed his eyes together. 

“Neither do I,” the voice came through a familiar vocoder, made to sound like it was vibrating, Bart had heard that voice before. He turned around slowly as the two Justice Leaguers climbed to their feet. Standing in front of them, bo-staff in hand, feathered cloak fluttering behind him, was Black Swan. 

Bart had never seen his mom back in the days when he had two different IDs, he’d only ever seen the Black Swan costume where it was placed in the glass case in their house. Bart never really thought about just how terrifying his mother would have looked in it. Sure, Deathwing was intimidating, but there was something in the added mystery of the almost full-face mask as opposed to the painted-on blood mask he wore in the future. 

“Black Swan,” Barry growled, stepping in front of Bart. “What are you going here?” 

“Neutron was supposed to kill you,” Black Swan admitted, stepping forward more, spinning the bo-staff with ease in one hand. “But he flubbed that, so I’ve come to finish the job instead.” 

Hal stepped up next to Barry, the ring powering up around him, making a blockade between Barry and Black Swan. Dick braced himself and swung his bo around, dropping into a ready crouch. 

“Look, kid, we don’t want to hurt you,” Hal said. “You might have been able to fight the Team, but Flash and I… you don’t want to mess with us. We’re founders. We’ve been doing this for a long time, and are good at it.” 

“Oh really?” has asked, raising an eyebrow, lips tipping up to a cheeky grin. “Are you really, Harold Jordan?’ 

Bart could watch the moment when Hal’s heart stuttered in his chest. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Bart wasn’t either. Why would his mom reveal his hand like that? 

While they were all dealing with the shock, he struck. 

Dick twisted, flying through the air and over Hal’s shield, landing on the other side. Barry lunged toward him, and he swung out with his staff, blocking both his blows, and the construct hand that Hal sent down toward them. He twisted and turned, springing up and down and back, and somehow landing a perfect blow on Hal’s chest while also executing a backflip and landing a bit away from them. 

Hal gripped it chest. 

“Why don’t you run on home?” Dick asked, looking Bart right in the eyes. “I’m sure your mother would like to see you.” 

He was sneering, and it took Bart a second to realise that was an act. Dick was playing the jilted lover, angry that Killer Flash had made a baby with Nightwing and not him. Bart wondered if Dick was openly his dad’s husband as Black Swan. He knew that Killer Flash’s infatuation with Nightwing had been ramped up to the point that the two of them had faked Dick’s rape in order to cover up their marriage. 

Bart didn’t know what to do. 

A sharp blade slid out of the bo-staff in Dick’s hands and he lunged toward Barry. Bart made his decision. He lunged forward, grabbing the hero and pulling him, running at his top speed back toward the Allen house. He’d have to trust that Hal would be able to handle himself for a minute or so. 

“What are you doing?” Barry asked him as Bart pulled him into the house, closing the door behind him. 

“Saving your life.” 

***

Dick scowled at where his son had just disappeared with his target in tow. Bart was going to get a talking to when he got home. He didn’t get between Dick and his targets. All that was left now was Hal, holding his ring up toward Dick, surrounded by a faintly glowing green forcefield. Dick stalked toward him. 

“No one ever told me Flash was a scaredy cat,” Dick taunted, stepping toward him. “Barry doesn’t even care enough to take you along with him.” 

He watched Hal Adam’s apple bob, he could sense the fear in him. It made Dick’s confidence rise. It really interested him how words he could speak as Nightwing and boost confidence and morale, he could say as Black SWan and inspire fear. 

“What do you want?” 

“Your little loverboy dead,” Dick answered, kicking at his construct. It didn’t budge. “Hmmmm, that’s not going to work.” 

He pulled something out of his belt and lunged forward, stabbing it into the construct’s centre. It shattered like stain glass. Hal stared at the thing in Black Swan’s hand, it was a small yellow lightning bolt, like the symbol Barry wore on his chest. 

“Oh, this?” he grinned. “A friend of mine gave it to me.” 

He slammed his knee into Hal’s stomach and sent him back onto the ground. He climbed onto his chest, re-pocketing the lightning bolt and then grabbing his hand and pulling the ring off his finger. He tossed it aside, and Hal watched as it skipped over the asphalt away from him. 

The bo-staff came down, a sharp point sliding out of the end of it. Hal tried to move away, but it impaled him in the shoulder. Black Swan pulled it back out, grinning like a maniac. 

“By the way, my friend wanted me to give you a message, one to send to Flash,” He stood up, pacing away as Hal gripped at his bleeding shoulder, fighting back the reflex tears in his eyes and shuffling backwards on his butt as he struggled to stand back up. 

“Alright, what was the fucking message?” Hal grit out, pulling himself to his feet and fighting through the pain of the injury. “What did your friend tell you?” 

Black Swan laughed. “Well, it’s for Barry, but I guess you can pass it on to him.” 

He stepped forward and Hal tensed, but he leaned in up against his ear and murmured. “He said you’re right, Killer Flash did kill his parents, but he’s still alive. He told me to tell you ‘I never gave up hope on you, uncle Barry, I never doubted you would save me.’” 

All the colour left Hal’s face. It was a tossup if it was from shock or from the stab-wound in his shoulder. 

“No, Wally’s dead… he died, ye–” 

Black swan plunged his spear into his side. Hal gasped, groaning as the spear slid out of his side and he gasped, falling to his knees. Dick leaned down. 

“Some days I think he thinks it would be better if he were dead. The screams… well, I can make Wally make whatever sounds I want. My husband and I have a deal, you see. He gets his fuck toy, and I get mine.” 

Hal was staring at him, his blood rolling down his side. Dick grinned, it was feral, and dark. He wanted his claim to be clear, he wanted Hal to know exactly what he was saying. 

“I’ll be back to kill Flash later.” 

And, like the bat he was, he was gone. 

***

Barry carried Hal back to the house bleeding out. He laid him on the kitchen table. Bart watched as Jay, Joan, Iris, and Barry bustled around him, trying to stitch him up. Bart sat on the stairs, face in his hands, tugging at his tufts of hair. He’d messed up. He’d managed to save Barry, but now Hal was laying on the table, pale-faced and dying as they hurried to try to fix him. He was going to die, and it might all be Bart’s fault. 

He stood up, walking up the stairs and into the bathroom, closing the door and sitting down against the wall. He’d wanted to fix things. He could have done better though. If he’d just told Barry that Dick was Black Swan and Killer Flash was Wally West, it would have fixed things, but Bart didn’t want to do that. 

Bart loved his parents. Which might seem like something a villain kid shouldn’t say, especially a villain kid going back in time to change what their parents did, but that didn’t change the fact that it was true. Bart loved them. Bart’s mom was good to him, gentle, sweet. Bart’s dad was all smiles, and love. They never talked about work at the dinner table, and all blood had to be washed off before they sat down to eat, and Dick always asked Bart about his day, and Wally ruffled his hair and smiled at him and said he made them proud. 

Bart loved his parents. 

Bart didn’t want to see the Justice League lock them up and throw away the key. He wanted his mom and dad to come back to the light, and he didn’t mean the Light. His mom used to run with Batman. His mom inspired a whole new generation of heroes. He just wanted Dick to go back to what he once was, and he wanted his dad to realise that Luthor and all of them were wrong, that they lied to him, that Barry couldn’t have done anything because he didn’t know. 

Barry wasn’t at fault for the things that had happened to him. Barry wasn’t at fault for Rudy’s abuse and Wally not getting out. Wally was obsessed with the Flash, obsessed with the idea that the Flash could save him, just because he was hurting. He needed that hope, to get through each day, but that hope turned around and made him believe in something that didn’t exist. 

Flash wasn’t infallible. Flash wasn’t some magic tooth fairy that could come and save him whenever he wanted him to. Flash was a man, just like Wally. A man who could run faster than anyone else, but still a man. He worked a nine to five, came home to his wife and boyfriend, put on a red suit, and ran around saving people. He was a good man, a hero, but still a man. 

Wally had let the dreams of a boy, crushed by reality, blind him to the truth of the world, and it had driven him to evil. It had driven him to team up with a bunch of Eugenicists who wanted a “pure” society, because he’d let those dreams be what guided him. 

If only Bart could make Wally and Dick see where they’d gone wrong, then everything could be fixed. If only he could lead them back to what they were supposed to be. They could defeat the light and bring the world into a better future. That’s what they needed. It would be better for everyone. 

Bart couldn’t tell. He couldn’t let his parents get locked up. All that would do was solidify their hatred of the heroes, he needed them to change sides, to return to the good, who they were meant to be. 

Bart stood up, leaning on the sink. 

But was his desire to see his parents happy more important than Hal Jordan’s life? All his parents would face was prison, but his mom might have killed Hal. 

“Bart?” Iris voice called from down the hall, he tensed. 

“Please don’t let Hal be dead,” he begged quietly, before walking over toward the door and opening it for his great-aunt. “Yes?” 

“He’s going to be okay,” she told him gently. 

Bart lunged forward and fell into her arms, letting out tears of relief. He was going to be okay. He still had a chance. Neutron had been neutralised, and Hal and Barry were still alive. They might be able to win this. 

He could do this, everything could turn out alright. 

***

Dick run across the beam and jumped into the air, flipping and grabbing onto the bar above him, before spinning around with his hands as the fulcrum and launching off. He landed in a hand-stand and then flipped up to his feet, heaving out breaths, hands on his knees. He moved to move to a new exercise, but a hand shot out a grabbed his wrist. 

“Babe, what happened?” Wally asked, worried, looking around at the mess Dick had made of the gym. “You’ve been in here for three hours already.” 

“Wally, let go,” Dick growled. 

Wally stepped toward him, nose-to-nose. “Oh, babe, you can’t scare me away with the hot boy act, that just makes me horny.” He leaned into him, sliding a hand around his waist and pressing kisses up his throat. Dick tilted his head back, eyes fluttering half-closed. “What happened?” he whispered in his ear, kissing behind it and making Dick shiver. 

“Failed mission,” he answered, biting his lip to keep from whimpering. “And our kid from the future showed up in the mountain and he’s the reason my mission failed.” 

Wally froze. He pulled back, eyes wide. “What?” he asked, “our kid… our kid from the future?” 

Dick nodded. “His name is Bart. He’s coming to live with us tomorrow, so I can try to get to the bottom of what he thinks he’s doing.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

“Walls,” Dick cupped his hands around Wally’s face. “I’m just stressed about the failed assassination, but we’ll figure it out, you and I.” He leaned forward, brushing their lips together. “After all, we always do.” 

[artfulacrostic]

whumptober begins!!

flying headfirst into fate

Dick let go. He'd fallen farther before, he was sure, but in the moment, as his grapple gun snagged on one of his gloves and sent him tipping sideways, he couldn't remember when.

OR: Five times in Dick Grayson's life that there was no safety net, and one time that there was.

+

Whumptober 2023 Day No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net

[tarlos-spain]

Don't stop dreaming just because you had a nightmare

Acknowledgments: Thanks so much to my betas @lire-casander @morganaspendragonss @chaotictarlos that made me this fantastic banner.

Chapter 02

TK woke up in a hospital room, in a silence broken only by the machines controlling his body. Carlos was sitting next to him, his healthy hand in his, kissing and caressing his. Next to him was Andrea, rosary in hand, praying softly, while Owen had sat on the other side of the bed and was staring out the window, stroking hs arm.

TK rolled over in bed but protested as he felt the intense pain in too many parts of his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, looking for a position that would be more comfortable and not make him want to cry and finally his brain decided to wake up and allowed him to open his eyes.

No one said anything at first, they had been told to give him time. The shock was severe enough that he was groggy at first.

So they waited.

"Carlos..."

"Ty, my boy..." Carlos walked over to the bed and smiled.

"What... those people... the ones who... me..." TK tried to stir again and that brought back the pain in his abdomen and made his insides burn with the senesation that incandescent irons were being thrust into him. "Hmmm Carlos... dad... It hurts so much."

"I know, son, that's why you need to stay calm and move as little as possible." Owen told him. "I'm going to let the doctors know you're awake in case they want to..."

"No please...Dad, don't try...please. I want to sleep."

"Ty, babe, we need you to stay awake a little longer. The doctors want to run a couple of tests on you and then you can sleep again, I promise." Carlos told him, sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his boyfriend's cheek. "Besides, your eyes are too pretty and I missed them."

TK loved it when Carlos got cheesy and said those tacky things. He smiled and and made an effort not to laugh, because he knew the pain would come later. But Carlos got his point across and just for that alone he stared at him.

"That's..."

"Carlos... it hurts..."

"I know, my love, that's why we asked also doctors to put you on an adequate dose of painkillers enough to make you feel good but not pose any problem."

TK trusted his life to Carlos with his eyes closed, so as much as the thought of being on any kind of drugs or substances, no matter how much they would take away his pain, scared him, he knew Carlos would do anything to help him

"Is there anything you need mijo." Andrea asked him and TK shook his head. He just wanted to sleep and forget and since the latter wasn't possible, sleep would be enough.

But Owen called his doctor and three people came into the room. Too many people, he didn't like it, it made him suddenly uncomfortable when there were so many people around him, especially when they were strangers.

Keep reading on AO3

[alexanderpearce]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: In the Earth (2021) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Parnag Fegg/Zach, Martin Lowery/Zach Characters: Zach, Martin Lowery, Parnag Fegg, Alma, Olivia Wendle Additional Tags: Forest Sex, in the literal sense of the term. he has sex with the forest., Character Study, Old Gods, Blood and Gore, Self-Harm, Rituals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, no beta we die like men

Zach and the thing in the forest, entwined.

[sapphireginger]

Summary:

Tis beauty I have nare seen before but to admire it is no chore. I see both the inside and the out. For him I’m on my knees. To him I’m most devout. ~ Duke Gajos

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Make an Example of Them

@badthingshappenbingo​

Bingo #3!!  🙂

[lifblogs]

The Devil in You

Whumptober 2022 @whumptober-archive NO. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Mature Pairing: Implied Non-Con Samifer Word Count: 1344 Summary: During Sam's mental health stay after the events in the beginning of Three Birds, One Stone, another patient triggers a panic attack in him. READ ON AO3

Sam had dumped his lunch into the trash (he’d waited till lunch was over and a nurse or occupational therapist wasn’t around so they would think he was eating), and was just bringing the empty tray back to the nurse’s station when one of the older men also in this unit with him grabbed his arm. Sam turned, expecting an attack, pulling himself out of his surprisingly strong grip, and held the dark red tray in front of him like it might be a shield.

Before he could say anything, the man, now wide-eyed, was pointing a finger at him.

Sure, maybe Sam could ignore him, go on with his day, try once more to find a way out of here, but for some reason, the way his dark eyes held him kept him captivated.

“You’ve got the Devil in you, boy.”

Sam opened his mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. He swallowed, and licked his suddenly-dry lips.

He thought maybe his heart had skipped a beat or two.

“Wh-what?”

“You’ve got the Devil in you,” he repeated.

Sam wanted to snap at him, maybe as an attempt to hold back the fear that lived in him constantly, the fear that was always ready to spring.

I did, but not anymore!

Yet he had his mark on him, his hand branded into his skin while he’d slept during his horrid stay on the lower floors of the hospital in one of the medical wards. It was a reminder that Lucifer knew exactly where he was, knew that he was alive, and that he could come for him at any time.

“Leave me alone,” Sam got out, wondering if this man was truly mentally ill or if somehow he knew who and what he was, knew he had been touched and violated.

Sam tried turning away, but the man grabbed his tray.

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“You’ve got the Devil in you! He’s got the Devil in him!” he started screaming, accusing.

In moments, the man was trying to attack him, still screaming. Even with the extensive scarring on his back, and the stiff joints in his hands, Sam held him at bay. Even as he felt a tremble building up in the base of his spine.

Nurses came, trying to diffuse the situation. A security guard had to grab the other patient. Freed from the grip of his awful accuser, Sam backed away, nearly collapsing against the nurse’s station, finding that his knees were all wobbly, like they’d turned to Jell-O.

The man continued to yell, truly angered and terrified.

Hands shaking violently, fingers suddenly weak, the tray fell from his grip.

He tasted blood on his tongue, felt pressure that quickly turned into pain deep in his body.

Lucifer was pressed against him in Castiel’s body, buried deep in him. He was growling in his ear that he was his to do with as he pleased, that Sam was made for him.

Dean was screaming.

The tremble released itself up his spine, scraping along each and every muscle. It beat against the rhythm of his panicked heart.

Sam couldn’t feel his hands, his chest hurt so badly he thought he was going to die.

The brand on his chest burned, down through the layers of his skin, through muscle, through nerves and bone, down to his scarred soul with wounds that were still raw and bloody.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” Sam breathed.

There was a nurse in front of him, he thought, but all sounds of her voice were muffled, like he was hearing it through water.

Sam looked around wildly, needing a place to hide, to lock himself away from the world till he was clean, to lock himself away from Lucifer.

He was here.

Wasn’t he?

He felt his touch, heard his voice.

Dean was by his side now, had rushed over from where he’d been sitting and stabbing a notebook angrily with a pen. His rectangular-framed glasses had slid down his nose a bit.

Dean tried to hold Sam’s trembling arm, but Sam pulled out of his grip.

Fuck, he was going to be sick.

Sam lost all feeling in his body, thought maybe he wasn’t real.

He’s got the Devil in him! He’s got the Devil in him! Evil! Evil! He does!

How could he be real when he couldn’t breathe?

He thought maybe he heard someone gasping and panting, like their lungs were begging for air, but that couldn’t be him, right?

He thought maybe someone was calling his name.

Sam blacked out.

~~~

Sam came to with a splitting headache, and a burning at his chest. He tried to cry out, putting a hand to his head. His motions were sluggish. But he felt calm, almost. Something pulled at his chest. Tape?

Feeling groggy, like the world around him didn’t make much sense, Sam pulled his T-shirt to look down at his chest. There was a fresh bandage on it, held there with tape. Already it was a dark pink with blood.

What happened?

Sam began to realize that he had been conscious when he’d blacked out.

Had he done this to himself?

It made sense. Before, while aware of himself and his surroundings he had tried to claw or cut the brand off of him. He’d actually once used a project he’d done during an art therapy session. They’d painted on clear plastic, coloring in the divots and dips that made a picture of a rising sun. While alone he’d broken it in half to make a sharp edge. When that had been taken away, he’d discovered with careful work that the plastic comb each patient was given could be used to cut his skin.

There was some blood under his fingernails this time though.

Had he been clawing at himself? What had he been given? His right bicep was a little sore, like he’d gotten an injection.

There was a knock on the door and then a nurse came in.

“Hey, Sam, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” was all he could think to say.”

“I’ll get you some pain meds. Ibuprofen okay for you?”

Sam nodded, and then rested back against the bed. God, he was sleepy. Which should’ve made him panic because now he wouldn’t be able to fight if Lucifer came.

Really, how could he fight the Devil on a regular day though?

It was as if his reactions were being repressed, like everything inside his body was being pressed down and kept at bay. It felt kind of nice, actually, which he wasn’t sure was something he’d ever tell Dean.

The nurse came back with a paper cup, and a smaller plastic cup, one with water, one with a large, white pill.

Sam sat up and took the medicine.

“Sorry about your headache. Haldol can do that sometimes,” the nurse said.

“Haldol…. Was—was that what I was given?”

The nurse nodded. “We had to, unfortunately. You were hurting yourself.”

Sam apologized, but wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Do you want to talk to your therapist you have for the night shift? From what we can tell, you had a panic attack.”

“I think I blacked out.”

“Yeah, that can happen sometimes.”

Sam thought about it, but decided—even in his more agreeable state—that no, he wouldn’t want to talk to anyone. Only Dean would know, only Dean would understand.

“Can I talk to my brother?”

The nurse seemed to resist making some sort of facial expression (probably a negative one, then), but he said that Sam would be allowed out of this room if he promised he wouldn’t hurt himself, or anyone else.

Sam promised, and said that he was all right.

One of the many, many lies he told in here.

Walking carefully, headache still pounding right above his eyes, he went to find the only person who would understand his pain, the one who had been through it all with him, and suffered by his side.

And hopefully, Lucifer wasn’t on his way.

[wellthebardsdead]

To deny Godhood Pt5

Part 4 here

———

Shamat: *seated back in the room he was forced to call home, quietly reading over scriptures written by Voryn Dagoth before his time as Dagoth Ur, now regretting not keeping a journal on all the countless dreams and nightmares his past life had plagued him with as he tries to keep up the facade that he’s ‘remembering’ himself before his reincarnation* azuras mercy his hand writing was atrocious- *looks at the sharp knife like nail guard rings lining all his fingers, ones he was expected to wear along with his other adornments, like a concubine to a wealthy noble or emperor* did he write with these on?… how did he get anything done?…

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

Shamat: *jumps a little and looks to the door as it opens revealing nerevar*

Nerevar: You’re still studying? I thought surely you’d of had a break by now.

Shamat: hello moon and star. *smiles up at the chimer when all he wants to do is gouge his eyes out* no I’m afraid I’ve been busy attempting to decipher my own chicken scratchings… gods was I drunk when I wrote this?

Nerevar: *chuckles* no but you were probably half asleep with your head on the table.

Shamat: hm… I vaguely remember waking up with ink on my face.

Nerevar: and drool on your parchment. *snickers* yes I used to find you like that often, I’d put my hand on your s-

Shamat: shoulder. So I knew it was you…

Nerevar: *heart fluttering a little thinking he’s really remembering their past together* Yes… Vivec used to slam his fist on the desk to scare you awake. You’d startle when I’d touch you but you’d always reach for my hand and hold it…

Shamat: Relief to feel you were still with me- *groans rubbing his head* I still don’t understand though- if it’s been hundreds of years since I betrayed you by using the tools I vowed to keep safe… how did I only just end up in a prison cell a few days ago?…

Nerevar: you don’t? Recall how you got here?

Shamat: *lying convincingly through his teeth* no, I just remember my body felt cold, and then I was hungry, and I woke up in pain and- absolutely covered in fleas like a mangy nix-hound… *looks down at his hands sadly* I hold no grudge or ill will to you my moon and star, I deserved my punishment in full… I just… everything is so blurry and the more I think- the more my head hurts… *rubs his third eye and winces* and When did I get this blasted thing?! Was this from me tampering with the heart of lorkhan?!

Nerevar: *heart sinking at the comment on being cold, thinking for a moment he could have possibly died from starvation or dehydration only to be reborn again. But still unable to hide his smile hearing him speak so familiarly* yes, you did… your body changed a lot as did your personality… it was like I was speaking with an entirely other person… but now you’re finally back… *takes his hand holding it tight* and we can finally be happy together.

Shamat: *trying his hardest not to grimace at his words, despising him for bringing him here, for torturing him, for taking him away from his family, his friends, his husband* together?… but…

Nerevar: but?…

Shamat: what of Almalexia?… you two are married and I’m merely your councillor and retainer-

Nerevar: She’s dead. I killed her.

Shamat: you what?! But- the alliance between- and- does vivec know about this?! Sotha sil-

Nerevar: *now believing he holds none of dagoth urs memories or anything beyond his life as Voryn Dagoth* oh Voryn… my Voryn… *gently pulls him in close, stroking his silky black hair down to the small of his back* I’ve so much I need to tell you…

Shamat: *resisting every urge to rip his throat out and instead embraces him too, being mindful of his body language and acting unsure but eager to hold the other in his arms* …how long have I been gone for?… nerevar?…

———

Meanwhile Back in Whiterun

———

Kaidan: so- he’s in morrowind then?…

Vivec: *floating slightly off the ground* Yes. In the city of Mournhold, the seat of House Indoril. Where Nerevar, of course holds the highest influence…

Sotha sil: *a ghostly apparition floating outside of his automatons body* He is alive, but for how long I am uncertain… I can no longer sense Dagoth Ur’s presence when I scry upon the one who walks a different path…

Vivec: perhaps he was able to use Nerevars plan against him, and separate himself from his past dream.

Caryalind: I? Plan? Past dream?

Vivec: Your friend, whom you call Shamat. We knew once as Voryn Dagoth. And then later as Dagoth Ur. He was felled when the Nerevarine struck the heart of lorkhan, sinking it into the magma of red mountain with the brass tower… And he was reincarnated as your friend. However, it seems the aedra had other plans, and intervened by blessing him with the soul of a dragon. He was able to separate himself from Voryn dagoth, his past dream and create a new path yet to be walked as a waking dream.

Lucien: incredible! The dragonborn and a living god reincarnated. I wonder why he never told us!

Inigo: I think he was trying to. He was plagued with nightmares mentioning a strange mask, a loud drum and feeling like he was inside of a volcano…

Kaidan: aye. He used to wake up repeating “I’m not you”… *sighs and looks at vivec and sil* what… is this plan nerevar has?…

Vivec: he is tracking seht and I for the same reason, or rather, one of the reasons he took Shamat.

Sotha Sil: he wishes to extract the power we took from the heart of lorkhan and return it. Even if it means our deaths.

Vivec: only there’s one problem with that. Both of us have achieved Chim. Death would only mean our ascension. And we hold no power from the heart of lorkhan anymore.

Sotha Sil: all our power is our own through the influence we have spread, as it is for the daedra and aedra.

Vivec: the only reason we have not ascended is because of Shamat… we sensed the return of the false dreamer. And we waited to see what he’d do in this new waking dream���

Sotha Sil: and now that he has been severed from his reincarnation, our fears for the safety of morrowind and tambriel can rest. But now we fear for the safety of your friend…

Kaidan: h-he won’t kill him? Will he?

Vivec: *looks to sotha sil* …it wouldn’t be the first time.

Sotha sil: Hush… the possibility is there… but no… I don’t think he will kill him but… I fear he has become obsessed with your friend, and unhinged that he has not allowed his past self to reincarnate… *sighs* He was in love with Voryn in his past life. And he wishes to have him in this life…

Vivec: and I fear the lengths he will go to to have him may be… extreme…

Kaidan: extreme?…

———

Meanwhile back in Morrowind

———

Shamat: *eyes shut tight, face a dark shade of reddish grey as he grips the bedsheets tight, thinking of Kaidan as Nerevar holds his body against his*

Nerevar: Why do you look away from me Voryn?…

Shamat: *trying to think of an excuse but too focused on trying to stay calm as the other Mer slowly undresses him and caresses his body* I- I do not feel worthy- for what I’ve done- and you s-still hold me so kindly- I-

Nerevar: *smiles down at him as he opens his robe, exposing all of him for his eyes to see* Shh, you’re more than worthy Voryn… just relax now, and let me make you all mine…