#noncon mention

[creatureintheaffinicompact]

listen, the noncon aspects of HDG are hot as hell. but there will be nothing more attractive than your owner making you beg for them to touch you. their vines sliding across your body until they suddenly stop and make you ask for what you want. forcing you to recognize this isnt being forced onto you, you want this

[just-antithings]

ex-anti here. let me shed a little light on the experience of being an anti for those of us fortunate enough to never have been one.

the primary driving force of anti-ism for a lot of people, not everyone, but a lot of them, is fear. thats why they all have that weird talking point about "well i bet you wouldnt tell your family that you like media about incest/noncon/lolisho/whatever-morally-outrageous-ficition-theyre-upset-about-today. its not that theyre actually morally outraged by the existence of "problematic" fiction, its that theyre personally afraid of being ostracized/attacked/disowned/etc for liking it.

i read noncon and underage smut all the fucking time when i was an anti. i felt no guilt or shame for reading it. but i knew my friends would hate it and me for reading it, so i always pretended to be morally outraged at the right moments when outrage was demanded of me in order to fit in and then i kept reading my noncon and underage stuff because i knew good and well that fanfic about teenage anime characters noncon-ing each other wasnt doing any actual harm to the world. but if i didnt keep up the semblance of moral outrage, my friends could and probably would do harm to me.

someone who was a friend of mine back in my anti days liveblogged an entirely satirical and mocking review while watching boku no pico (a shotacon anime for those who dont know). this person was a pretty popular anti blogger (at least in our corner of the internet), had all the "right" opinions, was public with their identity as a csa survivor (which they weaponized against proshippers and kinksters, as the anti-sphere encourages and praises people for), was a minor THEMSELF... and i watched the anti-sphere that we were involved in completely and utterly tear them apart. they pretty much left tumblr after. it was sickening.

so yeah. when you see those 15 year olds hand wringing about underage smut and whatever the fuck... just know that theyre scared to death of the people they call their friends, every single day.

.

[kairithemang0]

wait wait wait there's a hatchetfield smut week???

why do i kinda feel

idk gross?

no hate to the event or those participating other than the fact one of the prompts is noncon????

[way2manyusernamez]

I've been noticing a lot of people in the radqueer community hiding behind vague harmful identities. Here is a short dictionary of what they really mean, with sources:

Xenosatanism

abolition of age of consent

pro bestiality

pro 'real cp'

believes in "non-consensual but harmless sexual interaction" and its legalization

also, this paragraph: "Destigmatization and desacralization to some extent of rape, molestation, sexual abuse (bcs of a priori and retrospective harm induced by internalized social norms. Tho, we don’t want harmful rape to be fully legal)"

Basedqueer

pro nonconsensual abuse

pro "cisharmfuls who arent seeking recovery / want to get worse"

pro real cults, harassment, self harm and eating disorder encouragement

pro contact

pro "minor made porn / minor sexual material"

Lacedqueer

pro rape and noncon abuse

meant to be a combination between basedqueer and LSDqueer

Noxiaqueer

pro bestiality

pro CP

pro xenosatanism and basedqueer

"neutral" and "flexible" about stalking, harassment, suicide baiting, cults, rape, and non consensual activities

LSDqueer

pro rape

pro CP

Alternatefreak

pro harassment, abuse, cults, and murder

see also: "Pro abuse terminology on Tumblr", and my screenshot of what "MSM/MMP" means (minor sexual material / minor made pornography) (edit: hyperlinks broke in this paragraph, edited to fix)

[crowdemoninkinkyboots]

“ciel can’t consent” actually it’s sebastian who can’t consent. ciel has complete control over him

[paingoes]

Rubies - Snowstorm

not really nsfw but pretty intimate i guess???

this is set a bit further into delta’s recovery!!

(Content: caretaker POV, recovery, fever, nonsexual nudity, sickfic, platonic intimacy, past trauma, discussion of past abuse, crying, brief discussion of noncon, vampire caretaker???, brief discussion of self harm)

~

The white mountains went on for miles in every direction. In the past weeks, they’d been broken up only intermittently by the wildfire smoke, but today the sky was clear and bright. Even in the dead of night, the atmosphere had a brightness about it. The surrounding woods would darken, but overhead the clouds remained luminous. Still, they hoped not to take so long on the trek that they’d be forced to travel by it.

They were making good time, all things considered. The rebel group was only thirteen strong — it was a lucky number. Large enough to function as a single organism at times, but not so much as to become unwieldy. Two dogs jet back and forth between the party members — only one of the hounds had been brought on purpose, the other had simply found them and tagged along. 

Apollo once again scanned the frozen landscape — all bitterly cold and pristine, made to destroy things like him. But he was not immune to its beauty, and he could not help but be mesmerized by it. After all, there was little else to focus on.

Galatea stretched its medics thin. This time was no exception. Again, he was the only one to the group. They were protective of him for that. It was mutual, pleasant. It felt nice to be needed. He never balked from it.

Delta moved a few meters to his right, skirting the edge of the canyon, the abyss below. Apollo clicked his tongue a bit, beckoning him closer. Delta came away from the border and did not seem to resent the summons.

One hand against the nape of his neck proved he was freezing, but he always ran cold. Apollo replaced the scarf around him, relinquishing the contact. Delta peered up curiously, much of his face still obscured within the fabric. 

He didn’t need to be here. The only reason he’d tagged along was because he’d asked. If Levon had his way, Delta would never leave the fortress. All the time, he’d been making himself invaluable there, in a way Apollo could ungenerously describe as calculated. All the same, he understood the impulse.

“Are you cold?” Apollo asked. It’s a dumb question, but he liked that Delta indulged him with it.

“Nah,” he answered back anyway. “I like it more like this. The lake isn’t frozen through all the way, even though it should be by now. There’s vents at the bottom. We’re on a volcano.”

There was a soft gravel to his voice that immediately caught Apollo’s attention. He was getting sick. He might not have even realized it yet.

“Do you think that’s what’s been causing the smoke on the horizon? Volcanic activity?” Apollo asked. 

Delta considered this.

“No.” He said finally. “I think that’s just because of the bombs.”

Apollo nodded in understanding.

~

It seemed to really hit him just as soon as they’d reached the safe house. To be sure, there were places for it to have hit him. But there were also places much, much better.

Delta struggled valiantly through it anyway. The arrival was when the hivemind really seemed to kick in — and each of them present moved like one consciousness, unpacking, drudging water and electricity up from the ancient system. Apollo caught sight of Delta amidst a mess of wires, willing the radio to work. He was tireless. All of it was up and running by the time the pale moon was directly overhead. It was only then he’d let himself be tended to.

Delta coughed terribly, the congestion in his chest now fully audible. Apollo listened closely, in search of something worse.

“You picked an awful time to do it,” he tsked in mock disapproval. “Going to need Balto to carry it all the way up the mountain.”

“Who’s Balto?” Delta asked blearily.

“Nevermind,” Apollo shook his head. “You’re going to be fine. Bacterial, though. It’ll put you out for a couple of days.”

Delta looked up at him pleadingly, as if this was a sentence that he could adjust.

“Gonna be fine,” Apollo repeated, petting his hair. Delta nudged his hand back, leaning into the touch, though he still looked resoundingly unhappy with this verdict. He still let himself be led into the quarantined bedroom, collapsing down onto the cot the first second he was able to.

~

One night later, Delta half-stumbled out of the doorframe. He shivered, visibly, little pinpricks forming all up and down his bare arms. Bare arms, even in the cold climate, because he’d been tucked beneath the blankets and too many layers would make him feel trapped. When he got like this, his eyes turned to sea glass, all soft and cloudy.

“Do you want me to help you?” Apollo asked. Before he could answer, he’d already moved to steady him. He placed one hand against the soft cotton of the tea shirt, feeling at the fragile shoulder bone beneath. Delta let himself be leaned back against the wall. The offer had not been merely to steady him.

Delta nodded yes. He had gotten so much better about receiving it.

They both sat on their knees against the cool tile of the bathroom as the old clawfoot tub gradually filled with mountain water. Delta rested his forehead against the edge of the porcelain. He had a migraine, on top of everything else. When he got anything, the migraine tended to come with it.

Apollo dipped one hand tentatively beneath the surface. It was colder than he would’ve liked, but he knew he was an abnormality in that regard. Delta voiced that it was perfect. He said “perfect”. He was always more agreeable with Apollo, more insistent, strategic to counter the other’s nervous fussing.

It was a pleasant surprise to find that the old house still held the soap for a bubble bath. Apollo had taken liberties with it in the interest of privacy, and because the lavender scent had made him nostalgic. A family had lived here, once upon a time. He felt a soft twinge of sadness as his attention turned back to Delta, who still lay oblivious with his head down against the ledge. It would not mean to him what it meant to Apollo.

The issue of privacy turned out to be of little concern. He’d have offered to turn away, but Delta had already placidly stripped the shirt from his back, then all the rest. Used to it, he’d said the first time, and Apollo’s heart had sunk all the way into his stomach until he’d clarified. There’d been maids. His dignity had been denied to him constantly, or it had never even been considered, but at the very least it had not come to that. Nevertheless, Apollo remained cautious and tentative as he moved to touch the bare skin.

Delta only leaned into it. Apollo had wondered once how much of it was trust and how much of it was simply obedience. He did not wonder so much anymore. All of his movements were slow and controlled, still doing his best now to startle him. He poured the plastic cup carefully over his head, letting a gentle stream of water pour down over the black locks. His hair was longer now. Not as long as it had been, but getting there. It had grown back fast.

He felt the way Delta tensed when his hands brushed over his scalp. The touch was soft. It was the placement. He uncurled his fingers, undoing the hold of his hair.

“Still okay?” Apollo asked quietly. 

“Mm,” Delta agreed at the same decibel. 

He had tensed, though. And his eyes now seemed to study only the surface of the water.

“…You know he tried to drown me?” he said. By the end of the sentence, all the words were only mouthed shapes. No sound came out.

Apollo’s hands froze, given way to still shock. He didn’t know why it surprised him. He’d seen what they were capable of. Nothing should have surprised him anymore. 

“One of the last nights,” Delta added quietly. “It’s why I had to leave.”

He’d wondered all the time what the last straw had been for him. 

“Do you want to get out?” Apollo retracted his hands back to the ledge, lowering his body slightly as if it might make him less intimidating. 

But Delta didn’t look scared, really. His eyes hadn’t left the surface of the water, but they were all half-lidded. He was just sad, in the way he tended to be. He shook his head slowly, slightly.

“No,” he said. “I know you’re not going to. I was just…”

He sunk further into the water without bothering to finish the thought. Apollo cautiously resumed washing the shampoo out from his hair, extra careful not to run his fingers through it too hard. Extra careful so as not to pour the water into his face, so as not to obstruct his breathing. He moved his hands through his hair dutifully, working the conditioner and jojoba oil through the ends. 

When he looked up, he was surprised to see that Delta had started crying. With all the water, he could not be sure if they were really teardrops. Delta’s expression was more or less unchanged. There were no other tells. He wiped his eyes as if he nothing had happened, but his shoulder blades cinched together in a silent sob at the same instant.

“Sorry,” Delta said first, sensing the way his eyes had fallen upon him, “It’s not…”

Again, he didn’t bother to finish the thought. Apollo frowned. He ran his knuckles back up by Delta’s scalp, moving them in soft circles. He leaned into the touch, the crying seeming to slow for a moment.

“I love you,” Delta said.

A small, discontented noise. Apollo sighed as he drew him in a bit closer, kissing him gently on his temple.

~

Though it was deep into the night, the living room was still alive when they emerged into it. It still glowed with the warm orange light. One of the dogs snored atop of the rug just by the fireplace. The scout sat cross-legged next to it, headphones on as she played with her weighted carry-on computer. In the kitchen, the voices were indistinct, but pleasant all the same. 

Delta followed him readily onto the couch, curling up at his end of it. His hair was still wet at the edges. After a moment, he brushed it away, tilting his head to the side to expose the skin.

Apollo stared at him, unsure of what he was seeing. As the silence endured without any movement from Delta, he knew it was what it looked like.

“What’s this?” Apollo’s tone was gentle. “Are you baring your neck for me?”

A soft blush rose up in Delta’s cheeks, not just flushed with fever. Apollo shook his head. Delta straightened his neck back out and — blessedly — did not seem too distraught over the denial.

“Why don’t you?” Delta asked. He let his hair shield his skin again, but leaned closer, pressing his head to Apollo’s shoulder. “Can’t you?”

“I can,” Apollo answered, though for a second he really thought about lying. “But I don’t need it.”

“Lun does,” Delta pointed out. “They need it. If you don’t need it, what does it feel like for you?”

“…Heady.” Apollo admitted. He brushed his nails along the side of the boy’s head. There was too much heat there.

“It gets you loaded?” Delta asked incredulously.

“Not quite,” Apollo said, mostly because he sensed the alarm in the other’s voice. “Just dazed. I don’t like the feeling.”

Delta frowned anyway, but he did not question further. He rearranged himself, asking if he could place the pillow down in Apollo’s lap. He did so. He did not take the blanket and he did not need it. The fever was startling. It would peak tonight.

“You like me more when I’m like this. You just want a patient.” Delta accused, but the tone was teasing.

“I like you all the time,” Apollo said, though he didn’t deny it. Delta sighed discontentedly, exhausted. The skin of his neck was still bare then, unguarded. Apollo pressed two fingers to it, checking the pulse. Steady.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter

edit oops forgot taglist sorry

[vladdyissues]

Seriously, there are more than enough fanfics and rule34 art of Danny getting raped by Vlad till he's bleeding, but the second the reverse is suggested you clutch pearls.

You Peppers ship a 14 year old with and adult who wants to kill him, at least don't look down at me like you got a moral high ground. And just to not sound hypocritical, of course I ship them too.

Vlad can be the cruel, brawny, tall, big dicked man and Danny has to be the catamite, but an alternative can be great too, a bit divergence damn it,

"Enough of this thing exists already! I want everyone to stop making this thing they enjoy and instead make the thing that I want to see!"

Anon, you sound like a screaming, tyrannical toddler.

You're the one throwing a hissy fit about there not being enough Tall Strong Big-Dicked Danny content while the rest of us mind our own business. You're the one spamming our inboxes with asks—sometimes very graphic, distasteful, and definitely unwanted asks—about ship dynamics that we have repeatedly explained don't appeal to us. And yet you keep sending them.

This isn't even about shipping or dynamics, really. This is about you not respecting our boundaries and trying to force us to cater to your personal preferences.

Metaphorically, you're going to every ice cream parlor in town and having a tantrum because they're not serving cheeseburgers. "There's too much ice cream in here!" you scream—in a restaurant called We Love Ice Cream And Serve Nothing But Ice Cream. "I want a cheeseburger! Why don't you serve something other than ice cream!? You're all a bunch of pearl-clutching snobs who look down at me because I like cheeseburgers! Well, the ice cream you serve is gross, anyway!" (As if there's only one flavor of ice cream, and its the flavor of Pompep that you mentioned.)

You're being an ass, anon. This is not how you ingratiate yourself to your fellow fans or shipmates—especially not when you imply that some of us are shipping Vlad and Danny the """"wrong"""" way and your way is somehow better or more interesting.

How about the next time you feel like sending someone another ask about Big Tall Strong Danny wrecking Vlad's anus with his 16-inch monster cock, you instead pick up a pencil and learn to draw art and write fic of the things that you want to see? Because that's what the rest of us did.

Be the change you want to see in the world.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

(Tw for assault) pre canon, pre kids (or at least pre-jc and wwx being born) YZY gets attacked by WRH at a party. He drugged her and caught her off guard. Afterwards she tries to summon all her usual rage but he just sneers at her and says if she tried to do anything to him in retaliation, the Wens will come down on Meishan Yu AND Yunmeng Jiang. And she can't exactly say what he did to her, can she? She'll be shamed. It's her word against his and people would happily believe her cheating on JFM in a fit of drunken rage, and there would be no case anyway because she didn't fight him off - the famed violet spider not putting up a fight, her golden core not taking care of the drug? How weak. She must have wanted it...

Afterwards she returns home with JFM and tries to put it behind her. She's Yu Ziyuan and won't crumble because of this. But. It's hard. She doesn't feel safe anymore even with her handmaidens. Even in her home. She tries to act as she did before but she feels like she's falling apart - how can she whip the disciples into shape, lead Lotus Pier, when she can't even fight off a simple drug, a simple man, even if it was Wen Ruohan? Before she would express all her emotions through rage but now... she can't summon any of it. She has nightmares. She feels his hands on her, undressing her, tugging her hair, even slipping zidian off her finger and leaving her defenseless... she's falling apart and she's terrified everyone can see it.

the truth is everyone is fooled.... except for JFM who, somehow, notices cracks in her armor and wants to know what happened to his wife.

"Don't touch me!"

It's not the first time his wife had said it to him. She has snapped and hissed and growled the words too many times to count. Had once screamed them in his face when he touched her hand after Cangse and Changze visited.

But she had never been afraid.

Fengmian had honestly thought she simply wasn't capable of it. He had always admired the strength his wife carried, even when it was turned against him. He couldn't recall her ever being anything but fierce and proud and standing tall.

He felt rattled seeing her like this. Small and trembling and flinching away from him in fear.

"Please," she begged, her eyes weren't focused on anything. "Don't touch me."

Fengmian felt his own hand shake. He had reached out to fix the crooked hair pin- a perfect excuse to touch her hair- when she flinched like he had tried to strike her.

"I... Whatever my wife wishes," he assured her. "I would never- You know I would never..."

His words seemed to ground her enough to start gaining control of herself again.

"My lady, did something happen?"

The glare she gives him is venomous.

The tongue lashing she gives is short and harsh and she retreats to her rooms immediately after.

Fengmian is left with a cold, heavy feeling in his stomach.

-

YZY would be so, so worried about JFM finding out. She thinks he won't hesitate to take the opportunity to divorce her and ruin her reputation.

[glitch-after-dark]

Mer formers dratchet finding a sparked Rodimus who was abducted from his home and can’t go back because it was destroyed?

Now they have a sparked distrusting & traumatized mer they are slowly falling in love with

oh yes

The way this idea just gripped ahold of me and I love this idea but got a little caught up in plot and it got pretty long.

I've got another related ask, too. It's probably a bit less horny than intended, but I'll do more in a bit. Happy mermay!

Rodimus grew up in the Nyon shoal and was very social and comfortable and happy. Their shoal was settled around an uninhabited island from which they took their name which spent most of the time submerged and has complex reef system around it. It was considered one of the most beautiful places on Cybertron with pink sands and fiery colors mers matching the reefs surrounding it. It was Preserved and people weren't supposed to travel there but that didn't stop an occasional wealthy mech from hiring someone to go there as they considered fees to be "entrance payments" more than punishment. While wary most of the people who came regular, marine biologists who studied them, were friendly and the shoal was a much more social and less aggressive one than most.

At least partially due to the fact the island used to be inhabited and they had a shared community until a disease that the mers were immune to wiped out the island population. They still passed down stories and remembered them. The "strange" rituals that the biologists studied are the ones passed down to honor their former friends. Rituals that look religious in nature because it was as their former neighbors worshipped Primus.

All this adds up to Rodimus seeing Tyrest, who was slightly obsessed with it since he recognized a long defunct religious gesture in one of the videos a Senator showed him of "visiting" the island and believe it to be a sign, and swimming right up to him. Rodimus sees him do the gesture and returns it enthusiastically, swimming much closer than he would normally and even perching up on the boat's edge which led to him getting snatched.

Rodimus suffers during his time with Tyrest, who treats him like a pretty toy, and punishes him when he "acts up". It only gets worse the more time passes and Tyrest gets handsy. Rodimus becomes incredibly hostile to all mechs and Rodimus starts to get drugged daily to keep him placid.

Then he has his first heat and Tyrest is eager to take advantage of it to arrange for artificial insemination. It required getting him out of the tank though. The drug burns out quicker than Tyrest realized and Rodimus begins to become more lucid and once Tyrest dismisses his guards and staff for the day, Rodimus rips out his throat. Tyrest kept Rodimus in his private island, letting him look out at the sea but never touching it.

Rodimus drags himself through the house and across the sand into the water. He's hurt and bleeding and exhausted but he's free even if he's somewhere new.

Rodimus is not a very sturdy breed of mer or one meant for long distance or deep ocean travel on top of still smelling like heat. He encounters a lot of dangers from predators and other mers, reacting with almost feral aggression not allowing anyone, even friendlies close. He follows old stories and constellations to eventually find Nyon, or where it was. There was an accident and a ship carrying oil wrecked and the leak destroyed Nyon. There are mechs working to try and clean it, but the reef and shoal are dead and the pink sands stained.

Rodimus now heavily pregnant and strained with grief wonders blindly, avoiding the large stretches of territory or inhabited areas he goes through, and finds an island that looks mostly untouched, no mechs or mer shoals obvious and just falls asleep exhausted in one of the underwater caves.

The reason it is untouched is it is neutral territory where the "sea witch" Ratchet and his mate Drift live. Who find Rodimus, so exhausted he doesn't even wake up when they touch him, clearly having starved himself, undersized and with poorly healed injuries. They take him back to their cave and Ratchet quickly cleans his long neglected wounds and treats them, while Drift helps him feed Rodimus via mouth-to-mouth until he has enough strength to respond and swallow when they put it in there. He sleeps for days with their tending, tense and curled up even in his sleep until on the fifth day he wakes up.

Rodimus is incredibly wary of the two other mers when he wakes up. He is hissing and bristling and ready to fight, though instinct has him pushing himself back into the back of the cave and curling around his swollen belly. He is full and healthier than he has been in ages, and everything is screaming to nest.

Drift and Ratchet are soft. They've never managed to carry more than duds despite their long courting. They suspect they are wither infertile or incompatible. They have more than enough to support a carrier, and both have gotten a little attached while carrying for him.

They give Rodimus space, leaving him food and not forcing themselves close. Slowly, warily, he creeps out. They both freeze when he does, letting him make the first moves. When he creeps out further, Drift trills at him hopefully, which startles him and sends him rushing back into hiding.

It's slow progress with Rodimus watching them warily from where they've tucked him into an inner cave, and their instincts are acreaming to take care of him more and barely sated by glimpses and food and occasional glimpses of him sleeping and smelling content. Both are patient though.

One day, when it's just Ratchet, Drift, having gone out to hunt and patrol to settle some of his "expecting babies" instincts, Rodimus finally creeps out. Ratchet's own instincts to prepare have led to him overprepping in medicine and gathering a bit. He's been trying to prepare for any eventuality. He doesn't freeze or react when he feels Rodimus moving behind him and forces himself to remain calm letting him approach and watch Ratchet curiously.

Rodimus, meanwhile, has gotten curious about his not-captors. He has become absolutely certain they don't want what most have wanted from him and don't appear to be a threat. Mostly, they seem to want to feed him. He's been listening to them interact and talk but still doesn't understand why. He doesn't feel safe, but he also doesn't feel actively in danger.

So he's decided to approach the safer looking one alone. Drift may be smaller, closer to Rodimus’s size, but he's all predator with prominent fangs and claws and spines. Ratchet, meanwhile, is bigger than him but has duller claws, practically just nails and grinding teeth as well as non-prominent fangs and eats kelp as much as any fish. Rodimus is pretty sure his main defense is his thick hide, size, sharp tongue, and Drift.

They talk, and while it is tense, it soothes things. Ratchet explains how they found him, what he is doing, and briefly a bit about himself and Drift. He also offers Rodimus safety in their home as long as he wants to stay. When asked why Ratchet nods to his swollen belly and says he can't just let a school less first timer go at it alone when he can help and that Rodimus will need suport and be unable to hunt for himself soon enough. Rodimus has bee filling more and more the instinct to den down and prepare but is still suspicious.

Rodimus demands what exactly Ratchet wants in return, and he says for Rodimus to let him treat his wounds and make sure he and any pups or healthy before Rodimus leaves. If he wants to leave, that is. He also confirms Drift feels the same way. Rodimus still doesn't trust it, but Ratchet hasn't lied so far and had plenty of time to take advantage.

Drift comes barrelling in, freezes, and gets excited, sending Rodimus back into hiding. Dratchet talks about taking things slow. Or at least that's what they think until the next day. Rodimus is nervous at first but gets comfortable very quickly, and by the end of the day, he is acting like he owns the place. Which is at least 65% bravado, but he is forcing himself to be comfortable in order to convey confidence. Drift, of course, is thrilled and very friendly and readily spoiling him, eager to show off their home and area, and Ratchet is very tolerant and fussing at him to eat or drink.

Rodimus is surprised how quickly it turns to genuine comfort with them. He swims with Drift acting as sentinel, but always gentle and cooing as he shows them small wonders and races and dances around him in warm shallows that look perfect for pup. He hangs around Ratchet on his tired days lounging and pestering him when Ratchet makes medicine, and Ratchet huffs but explains or tells stories about his travels, which are interesting and pretty wide. Other times, they go to gather medicinal things. It's further than Drift usually takes him but Rodimus stubbornly demands to come and inevitably ends up dozing on Ratchet's back being gently carried home between them

He realizes as his room (den) becomes filled with pretty rocks and decrotive plants and soft sponges for a bedding and fine sand perfect for burying eggs and carefully selected rocks that both have given him that they've been acting both as sire and community and he cries and realizes he may be rwally and truly safe.

He starts being more open with them and laughing and smiling, and things get warmer and affevtionate as all three start falling for each other. Now that Rodimus is safe and his body isn't stressed he enters a new stage of his carrying and finds himself curling up against Ratchet in the cave not wanting to leave and purring or dragging Drift to his berth to cuddly and clunsy try and wrap his tail around him. Both of them pick up on it and smell it, but after what Rodimus said, they are reluctant to force the issue. Finally, after he half tucks himself under Ratchet and just vibrates while chirping, they do, and Rodimus realizes he's been making moves and decides rather than be embarrassed to go fully in.

They start assisting him, and when they do, they can't stop. It's a near constant pausing what they are doing to push him down and gently fuck into him while he purrs and clings to them, long pretty tail wrapping around them and clinging as much as possible. Both becime reluctant to leave him and he is firnly in the den napping most days and rarely venturing far. They prepare in earnest not to leave for awhile and the last two weeks of his carrying is just slow fucking, cuddling and constantly rearranging things to be perfect.

By the time Rodimus lays the eggs, they are all thoroughly mated and pleasantly surprised to find they hatch a mix of Rodimus's broght colors and white and red patterns.

[just-antithings]

Bluesky, in addition to banning people over liking a sfw dragon main gif that was on tenor and accusing them of being complicit in spreading CSAM for that, has now banned noncon, fictional gore and violence, and feral x human. That really, truly didn't take long at all.

ugh

[whumperofworlds]

No one:

Not even me:

My fucked up brain: WRITE STARDEW NONCON. HERE HAVE A DREAM OF IT.

Me: What the fuck, brain.

[hold-him-down]

“Ah, ah, none of that.”

from this ask game

“Ah, ah, none of that,” Ivan says as Leo, barely even conscious, pulls away from his touch. “If you keep it up, we will have to strap you back down, and I know you do not want that,” he coos, tracing his finger along Leo’s jaw.

His boy is a furnace, going on three days of this, and even though he is sticky and too-warm and all of his spirit has been dissolved in sickness, Ivan wants to spend some quality time with him now because he is going to be an angry little lion when they put him in the cold water.

Mikhail, the doctor, said Ivan could try to make him take his medicine, but should not ‘terrorize him more than that’ until he is feeling better. Ivan had it in his head that he would fuck his boy til he bled just to spite that god damn doctor, but looking at him now, he is ashamed to admit he feels something like pity.

So he fills the little cup with the liquid and he does his best approximation of ‘tender’ as he pries Leo’s mouth open, and it shouldn’t surprise him, but the fucking boy immediately turns his head, gagging, and the liquid goes everywhere. Ivan backhands him on impulse, but feels a little bit of a sting of regret when Leo barely reacts.

Ivan takes a breath and tries again. This time, as soon as the medicine is in his mouth, he covers it, holding his head tightly in place as Leo fights to free himself with, frankly, the strength of a silkworm. Ivan has to plug his nose too, to get him to swallow it, which is frustrating as all hell after two months under his care, but it’s a little bit sweet, too.

He turns to show Mikhail his work and is met with barely concealed animosity. Ivan could not be fucked to care about the doctor’s opinion of him, so he shrugs and exits the room.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

the thing about Marius wanting to fuck Sandro Botticelli in Blood and Gold is that it feels pretty earthshattering until you remember that show!Armand actually fucked Palma Vecchio and got featured in one of his paintings. specifically because Marius made him do it. so really this is all just part of a natural evolution.

[xieliansbignaturals]

Fereal (a super cool TGCF fic author) just came up with a new idea, and someone shared it in one of my Discord servers: https://x.com/Fereael/status/1817313893078679850

Copied and pasted from the tweet, so you don't have to click through: "What if WuLian with amnesia Hua Cheng who gets it into his head that Hua Cheng must be mistreating Xie Lian because Hua Cheng is a supreme (like BWX was) and because Xie Lian is liming and has bruises on his wrists so Wuming decides to kidnap Xie Lian in order to save him"

My response:

*Saw trap voice* Hello, Xie Lian. Slinging you over his shoulder right now is a mentally regressed version of your beloved husband, at a time in his life when you feel you failed and hurt him very badly. He is convinced that you are being abused (by a person who is actually him) and need to be saved from your happy, consensual sex life. To convince him otherwise, you must explain that despite his image of you as the most chaste person ever, you have now learned that you love indulging in rough, kinky sex. Good luck.

[evilwriter37]

Whumpuary 2025 Day 4

What are your favorite whump tropes?

Oh gosh, so many:

whipping

branding

wing whump

fantasy whump

fighting against restraints

noncon

captivity

defiant whumpee

intimate whumper

field medicine

painful caretaking

whumpee/whumper

whumpee/caretaker

Hm… There are probably a ton more, but that’s what I’ve got off the top of my head.

[illithiddies]

i wanted to see what would happen if you talked to the drow twins as astarion, and needless to say im absolutely devastated over every single dialogue choice here

i cant remember how many of these options are standard and how many are unique but still. the level of concern in a bunch of the first set of options is just so especially heartbreaking with his context. god.