ficathon: bring her bleeding heart to me (round 2)

[fiachairecht]

Bring Her Bleeding Heart to Me
{ a dark femslash commentfic meme for femslash february }

February is a dreich month redeemed by the existence of Femslash February, let's celebrate our redemption from the weather by creating dark femslash! This is a multifandom darkfic fest, because if we suffer our faves should suffer, or something like that. I know, I know, it's not quite February, but ... it's my journal and I do what I want?

Rules

• You must be 18+ to participate


• One prompt per comment.


• Prompt comment subject lines should follow the format "Fandom - Ship - short description of prompt", for example "Overwatch - Ana/Moira - noncon somnophilia"


• Fills should be posted as replies to the prompt comment, with subject lines following the format "FILL: Title - Rating", for example "FILL: sleep the sleep of the righteous - Explicit"


• Warnings at the start of fills are appreciated but not mandatory.

FAQ
What can I prompt?
Any / relationship between two or more female characters, from any fictional canon(s). Canonically female versions of usually male characters are fine (osmosis tells me comics have these). You cannot prompt rule 63.

How many prompts can I leave?
As many as you like, but each prompt must be its own comment.

Are crossovers allowed?
Yes. Your prompt should make it clear which canons you're requesting, and which characters belong to which canons.

Is RPF allowed?
No, this fest is for fictional canons only. Fictionalised versions of real people (e.g. Anne/Sarah from The Favourite) are allowed.

What about original works?
Nope. Original female characters from any fandoms are more than welcome, though, in the form of '[Fandom] -[Canon character]/OFC' or '[Fandom] - OFC/OFC' prompts.

Is there an underage policy?
Prompt whatever you like. However, sexually explicit fills involving characters under the age of 16 need to be posted elsewhere and linked.

Do fills have to be fic?
No! Fanart, fanmixes, podfic (new or with the original author's permission), or pictures of your lovingly-crocheted Rey and Phasma dolls murdering each other are all great too.

What makes fanworks dark?
I am borrowing darkestnightex's defintion, and saying it is "anything that deals with disturbing, violent, and/or depressing themes." Sexy body horror, gory murder, psychological manipulation, noncon, extreme angst, etc are all fair game.

But that means there'll be problematic fic here!
Yes, that's the point, now take responsibility for your own internet life and go be somewhere else.

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Comments

Questions

[fiachairecht]

ITT

Re: Questions

[(Anonymous)]

are original prompts/fills allowed?

Fills

[fiachairecht]

Link them here

Re: Fills

[sapphire2309]

FILL: and down came your innocence - Shadowhunters, Camille Belcourt/Clarissa Fairchild, dubcon, amnesia, Explicit.

Tomb Raider--Lara Croft/Samantha Nishimura--Possessed Noncon/Magic Made them Do It

[(Anonymous)]

Some tie-in comics played with the idea that Sam was not fully rid of the spirit of Himiko after Tomb Raider 2013. They weren't great, but I'd love to see a riff on that--Sam isn't wholly herself and brings pain on Lara. I'm fine for Himiko just wanting to hurt Lara for trying to stop her resurrection, or it being confused blend of Sam's affection for Lara and Himiko being a goddess-queen who takes what she wants, or anything in between.

Succession, Shiv Roy/Marcia Roy, surveillance/stalking

[thatyourefuse]

If this is not the best setup for "contextually reasonable-enough wariness leads to working out your feelings by setting an actual army of private investigators on your wicked(?) stepmother and obsessively cataloging her every move and maybe there's a few photos you stare at... sometimes, and whoops incidentally she has been super onto you this whole time because she's been playing this game since your mother was the school bully at Cheltenham Ladies' College, little girl," I would certainly like to hear about any better ones.

FILL: watches, watches - mature

[fiachairecht]

(Look this deserves - 10k minimum, and I'm still figuring out how to write this show, but I HAD TO.) [ Also on AO3 ]

Marcia's smiling up at the camera.

Smirking, really, Shiv's not going to pretend for a second that the bitch is capable of a real smile - just this thing, small and tense and flicking up the side of her mouth, like she's bitten into a secret or ripped out a heart or, or, whatever it is she does that Shiv's paying these men to find out about.

Next photo, and Marcia's still looking, smirking, and the next and the next and the next until there's a knot of disgust rising up in Shiv's throat - she's paying for information, not glamour shots, not like Marcia fucking Roy needs any more of the second, and it's not like Siobhan fucking Roy can have enough of the first, and that's ...

Why she keeps staring, probably. Shifts on her bed so she can cross her legs the other way over and keeps flicking through the hardcopy prints, her thumbnail digging into the glossy paper and leaving tiny divots that are going to be hell on her manicure if she doesn't stop, except - she has to see. What the fuck Marcia's looking at, out from behind those dead eyes of hers, why her lip's pulled back just enough that the white of her teeth stands out against the wine-stain lipstick.

If she runs her thumb down the edges fast enough, Marcia moves. Turns until she's nearly in profile, each sharp tick of her jawline's movement not at all softened by the waves of her scarf - cashmere, Shiv knows - she can see the hole it's left in Marcia's perfectly organised closet, sets her whisky tumbler aside and rests her index finger on the edge of it where it blurs over the side of the Met building and imagines pulling it tight around Marcia's throat until she can't speak - and always that fucking smile, clinging on stubbornly like some

It feels personal, but then, that was always Marcia's thing - take a, whatever, nothing, and suddenly it's the most important thing in the room, and Marcia's the second most because she brought it to you, like either of them mean anything.

Like she ever could.

But she does, obviously, because Shiv's still sitting here looking at Marcia smirking up at her, watching Marcia smirk up at her over and over again as the pictures slide against her thumb, edges biting back into her thumb until she wants nothing more than to get her hand on Marcia's mouth - hide away that knowing twist or, or slap it away, it didn't matter -

Anger spikes through Shiv then, sharp and reassuring, just enough to clear her mind. Marcia wasn't looking at her. Wasn't, couldn't even have been looking at the photographer, he was too good for that. It's just Shiv and her drink, alone, and Marcia's trapped in the glossy paper free for Shiv to watch at her leisure.

She reorders the photos, runs the not-film backwards. No, it's worse that way, Marcia turning towards her with her expression too wry, too smart, and -

Shiv throws the prints down and leans over to retrieve her whisky, shuddering as the motion presses her heel against her cunt. Fuck, she's sensitive - wet, almost, like she'd been doing something interesting instead of staring at Marcia's mouth for nearly half an hour.

She drains her glass, sets it back on the bedside table without caring if it's gone back on the coaster. Her heel's still pressed against her cunt, and she rocks forward just the slightest bit, lets the anger and alcohol both settle warm in the pit of her stomach, a warmth that doesn't stop her from shivering as the pressure builds. Bites her lip and stares down at Marcia smirking up at her - up into her throat - and tries not to think about how similar this feels to fucking the girl who swore she wasn't Kendall's first girlfriend.

The girl had been an inconvenience. Marcia is so much more.

And right now she's trapped in a flip-book set of pictures, still smirking as Shiv gives up and shoves her hand down the front of her pajama pants.

It feels like the closest thing to approval she's ever pulled out of the woman.

Star Trek: DS9 - Kira/Jadzia - dubcon sex pollen

[(Anonymous)]

Star Trek: DS9 - Kira/Jadzia - dubcon sex pollen

Grace and Frankie - Grace/Frankie - jealousy/possessiveness

[(Anonymous)]

Jealousy/possessiveness kink gone too far; how that manifests is up to prompter's interpretation!

Ocean's 8 - Debbie/Lou - rape roleplay

[(Anonymous)]

rape roleplay/consensual nonconsent

Crossover: GoT/Witcher - Calanthe/Cersei - rough sex

[elasticella]

lioness in the sheets

Succession - Shiv/Willa - seduction, infidelity

[elasticella]

Shiv is sick of Con bringing around his call girl, and decides fucking her will show Con how cheap Willa really is, and kill the stupid romantic ideas in his head.

FILL: i hope you give up on love - explicit

[fiachairecht]

(Oops I accidentally Willa's POV)

"So."

Siobhan's arm slips around Willa's waist as she draws the word out, the chill of her whisky glass pressing sharp and damp into Willa's hipbone. Willa schools her face into careful blankness and carefully does not look around the room for Connor. If he trusts her enough to bring her to family events, she has to trust herself to be able to handle his family.

The illusion of confidence shatters as Siobhan continues, "What's my brother paying you these days, anyway?"

Willa's not sure why numbers matter to someone like Siobhan. Then again, she's not sure why answers at all, much less why she adds two thousand to the number on all of Con's cheques when she does. Wants to see what she can get away with, maybe - it's pleasingly out of one of her plays, courting danger like this.

And maybe she's three drinks in and full of an anxiety she's been carefully not naming all night, too aware that she's choking on Con's romance harder than she's ever choked on his cock. Maybe it's that Siobhan's blouse is cut lower than Willa's ever thought would be appropriate for a family party and her breath is soft and warm on Willa's neck even though her laugh was colder than her glass.

"Almost decent of him," Siobhan says, and Willa tries to ignore how her teeth are nearly pressing into her neck, the tender veined spot right under her ear that never failed to send shivers down her spine and Con never failed to completely ignore.

"He is a decent man," Willa says, and, shit, it's embarrassing, how much it sounds like the lie it is. None of you are decent, she might have sad, if she were braver. If Con had been paying her the extra two thousand, and she didn't actually need to do any more of this shit.

Siobhan pulls away just enough that Willa can see the briefest moment of incredulity pass across her face. "Uh, no, oblivious looks bad on you," she says, and Willa wonders how she makes that sound like an insult. She scans the living room, fake-casual in a way Willa knows she does better, and then the glass is digging into Willa's hip as she urges her down the hallway.

Willa follows. She's not sure if this is her best idea or her worst: Siobhan with an audience is lethal, and Siobhan on her own is an unknown, but Willa doesn't relish the idea of being drawn into conversation with the rest of Con's family. So she follows, uncomfortably aware of her dress clinging wetly to her side and the tenuous grip she has on her own drink.

Siobhan pulls them into a bedroom and locks the door behind them, and Willa determinedly doesn't look around to see who's bedroom they're in. Knowledge is a valued currency in her profession, but when it comes to the Roys, she's more than happy to not know most things. "So, what's this?" Willa raises an eyebrow. "Interrogation? Business proposition? Lecture about how real family shows up without being paid?"

"Harsh." But Siobhan's eyes are wide and shining with something almost like approval, and, hey, Willa will take it. "It's the second, though. I pay you my brother's rate plus a thousand and get to fuck you in this dress." She looks her up and down with frank admiration, and Willa's whole body flushes. It's a good dress, according to her stylist, sleek and black and paid for with Connor's credit card so easily Willa'd never even see the number, and she's pretty sure it's that last bit that Siobhan's picked up on.

She wants to say yes to Siobhan Roy. She needs another drink. Or five. Or the necklace-accented V of Siobhan's cleavage out of her line of sight. Or to move to LA and forget she'd ever heard the Roy family name. "If I say no?"

Siobhan shrugs. "I tell him we did, and you don't get an orgasm out of it." She's got Willa backed against the wall, her knee between Willa's thighs like a threat or a promise or both.

And Willa's going fucking crazy, she must be, must be spending too much time with these people because she grabs Siobhan's glass and drains it before she can think too hard about it, says yes before the whisky's finished burning its way down her throat.

She's not stupid enough to expect a kiss, but she expects - teeth, fingers, something, Siobhan pulling up her dress and making good on all her half-promises and idle threats. Instead, Siobhan pulls out her phone, and the arousal that had been half-building in the pit of Willa's stomach since Siobhan first curled possessively around her in the living room dulls. "What are you doing?"

Siobhan rolls her eyes. "Paying you. I'm not a fucking liar."

She was, though, and the sudden honesty - Willa's phone dings somewhere in the clutch she's forgotten she's still holding, her banking app's custom notification inescapable - is almost more offputting than anything else Siobhan had ever said or done.

She busies herself looking around just enough to find a flat non-floor surface to set her clutch and empty glass down on. Siobhan, less concerned, tosses her phone somewhere behind her, where it lands softly on a piece of furniture.

"So," Willa says. She doesn't usually start this sort of thing without a clear idea of exactly what's going to happen, complete with the sort of specifics Willa's not sure Siobhan is even capable of thinking of. "Is - do you want -"

Siobhan rakes her nails up Willa's inner thigh, dragging the flimsy fabric of her hideously expensive dress up as she goes. "I want you to stop talking, for one thing."

Willa bites her lip and nods, head falling back against the doorframe as Siobhan strokes roughly over the scrap of lace serving as Willa's underwear today. Silent she can do. Silent is a relief, almost, after Con and his endless demands for declarations of love, but like hell is she telling his sister that.

Siobhan presses a finger against Willa's clit over the lace, and it's - uncomfortable, in some liminal space that Willa can't even begin to think of as good or bad. She inhales through her nose, lips pressed together. Quiet.

"Oh," Siobhan says softly, and Willa focuses on her face with an effort. "Sorry, I should have been more clear. I don't want you to talk. Other noise encouraged. Demanded, even, if I'm paying."

Willa's eyes widen. "Your family is literally right outside this door." She's felt out of place before, with these people. She's never felt quite so over her head.

"And? I locked the door. It's not like you didn't know that when you agreed to this." She curls her fingers, nails catching rough on lace and sensitive skin, and Willa can't help the groan that slips past her teeth.

"Fuck," she says, fuck me or fuck you, she doesn't know which - thinks, in the moment, that either would get Siobhan's smirk of approval, her lips like knives against Willa's throat as she presses too close.

Siobhan's fingers find their way lower, pressing against Willa's entrance over her panties, and Willa screws her eyes shut. It's already obvious Siobhan knows her way around Willa's body better than Connor, and Willa doesn't want to think about that too hard - can't think about it too hard, not at all used to the edge of pleasure-pain that Siobhan has her on already.

She's used to devoting her attention during sex to performing whatever routine her partners want. But she has no idea what Siobhan wants - if Siobhan wants anything, honestly, beyond bragging rights, and it leaves Willa too much space in her own head. She tries to focus on just feeling instead, her focus narrowing down to the sensation of Siobhan's fingers pressing her panties roughly inside her. She's never done this somewhere with this risk of being walked in on, and while it adds something of a thrill to being fucked, it's not enough.

Willa's not aroused enough that this doesn't hurt, and it's edging on too much of the wrong hurt. Siobhan, fuck her, picks up on it too - pulls her hand back and lets Willa's crumpled skirt fall, squints at her not-really slick fingers. "So, what?" she says. "Don't tell me I'm not good at this, it'll hurt my feelings."

Privately Willa doubts any of the things Siobhan feels are things capable of being hurt, but she just presses her thighs together, wondering if it might be better to just get this over with. Let Siobhan leave with her hand smelling too faintly of sex to be any fun whenever she tries to remember it later, duck into a bathroom to clean herself up a bit.

And yet, there's something - something about the absurdity of their situation, maybe, or maybe just the fact that sex is part of Willa's job that she doesn't really want to think she's bad at - something that has her wanting to tell the truth. "Not so much used to being on this end of it."

Siobhan's eyes widen, almost imperceptible, and Willa has a fleeting moment where she wants to claim victory for seeing it at all. And then Siobhan's mouth descends on hers, teeth catching sharp against her lip and she tastes like alcohol and nothing else, anything that might've been Siobhan burned away under the expensive whisky, and Willa -

Willa's body responds, at least, because it's impossible to meet Siobhan's hunger with anything but desire if she wants to survive - with this family, in general, she's losing track, under the pressure of Siobhan's tongue stroking against the backs of her teeth. So Willa wraps her arms around Siobhan's neck and digs her nails in, fixes her gaze somewhere over Siobhan's shoulder and even finds a laugh somewhere as Siobhan's palm grinds against her clit.

This is the person Con's family - Siobhan - has turned her into, and, shit, Willa thinks she could kill her for it. Thinks that Siobhan might kill her for it, too, and that's the thing that has her shuddering against Siobhan's insistent fingers and her own wet, rough lace. Sooner than she'd thought possible, hardly even worth being called an orgasm, and yet Siobhan notices anyway: the next twist of her fingers is cruel.

"You seem to be learning fast enough," she says when Willa fails to stifle a groan. "Ever wonder if you're pretending to date the wrong Roy?"

"You ever wonder why you're fucking me and not your boyfriend?" Willa asks, because she doesn't feel like getting into a debate about the meaning of pretending and dating in Siobhan-language, and also because she can tell herself that she doesn't care about this particular answer, though she's not sure why she cares about the others.

Siobhan withdraws her hand again, and now Willa's worked up enough that the loss of contact sends a chill through her. "He doesn't care," she says, which means he doesn't know, and Willa hates how casually she says it - she doesn't care at all that Willa knows she's a secret. Wants her to know, even, and as they regard each other in silence, Willa's positive she's missing something.

Just like she's positive she'll never ask what. What Siobhan gets out of a mediocre fuck in a spare bedroom, what she's going to tell her brothers later, what she'll do the next time they see each other at one of Logan's events.

Willa pulls her skirt back down when it's obvious that Siobhan isn't looking for anything else. "You'll pass on washing your hands, then," she says, and the words sound like someone else's as they leave her mouth.

Siobhan looks down at her hand as if surprised to find her fingers finally slick. Looks back up, meets Willa's eyes as she deliberately places her fingers in her mouth and sucks them clean. "Mine," she says, instead of an answer. "You have no idea what you're worth, do you?"

Willa can't shake the feeling that she's supposed to know what that means, whether this is the latest in a long line of insults or if it's Siobhan's attempt at a compliment. She turns it over in her mind as Siobhan fixes her hair - unpins it, covering the marks Willa's left on the back of her neck - doesn't come to any conclusion by the time Siobhan opens the door with her clean hand and leaves her alone.

Can't stop herself from wondering if she would get anything closer to an answer if they did this again.

Shadowhunters - Camille/Clary - amnesia, dubcon

[elasticella]

Camille is the one to find Clary after her memories are wiped and decides to have fun with her.
+bonus points for blood drinking

FILL: and down came your innocence - Explicit

[sapphire2309]

(also here on AO3)



Camille has to admit, this pretty, lost Shadowhunter is sin incarnate. Her blood smells even more addictive than most, and she has resisted temptation for decades, but if a Nephilim falls recklessly into her grasp, she is not the kind who would release her back into the wild. No, this one comes straight to the depths of the Hotel DuMort, with her. Only her.

She slides her tongue over her fangs, tasting sweat and musk and a hint of blood (not enough, not nearly enough). Eating someone out is luxurious, but exhausting. Lucky for her, pure Shadowhunter blood flows through this Nephilim's veins, just waiting for her to sink her fangs in and quench her thirst, and it's all hers.

She doesn't think she's going to share this one.

She trails a clawlike nail down Clarissa Fairchild's quivering thigh, watching the sweat drip, taking all the time she wants to pick a good vein. She's in no hurry. Clarissa might be, if the desperate arch of her spine and her weak, pleading moans are any indication.

"Greedy little thing," she mocks, laughing lightly as the girl cants her hips up, shamelessly, desperately begging for more.

Making them wait is always such fun.

Supernatural, Rowena/Charlie, Magic That Goes Wrong

[kingstoken]

Open to either original Charlie or alt!Charlie

Supernatural, Rowena/Eileen, Rowena Controlling Eileen

[kingstoken]

Rowena uses magic, or possession, or psychological mind games, or whatever you want, to keep Eileen away from her precious Samuel

Homestuck, Mindfang/Dolorosa, thirst

[(Anonymous)]

Mindfang likes it when Dolorosa is desperate for a drink.

Homestuck, Betty Crocker/Jane, family dinner

[(Anonymous)]

Anything is welcome from explicit noncon to creepy faux-wholesome family bonding.

Homestuck, grimbark Jade/Roxy, begging

[(Anonymous)]

Noncon or torture welcome. Other types of begging are equally welcome. (E.g. sarcastic begging or manipulative begging from Roxy, or Jade's doggy instincts making her beg for a treat.)

Crimson Peak, Edith/Lucille, ghost sex

[gwenfrankenstien]

Post-film, Lucille haunting Edith in a capital-R-Romantic way

Game of Thrones, Yara/Any, Saltwive

[kingstoken]

Yara captures any female character and makes her saltwive, author's choice of who the captured character will be.

Nirvana in Fire, Gong Yu/Banruo, captured spy

[convenientalias]

Basically, what if Banruo captured Gong Yu instead of Tong Lu in her attempt to find out the secrets of the Jiangzuo Alliance? Hoping for some whump or some manipulation and lies or possibly both.

Overwatch - Moira/D.Va - sexual captivity->mindbreak

[(Anonymous)]

Moira tames her cute little bunny's resistant streak. (This being Moira, some biological modifications are probably involved.)

Wheel of Time - Egwene/Aviendha - punishment

[primeideal]

IDK. Something with toh.

Awkward, Tamara /Sadie, hate sex dub con

[emmatheslayer]

Sadie is angry after being made fun of so she takes Tamara in the closet and makes her have sex it really wasn't what Tamara wants but she can't say no

The umbrella academy, Vanya /Allison, blood play

[emmatheslayer]

Vanya loves to lick blood off Allison's naked battered body

Angel the show, illyria /harmony Kendall, sub Dom

[emmatheslayer]

Illyria is harmony Dom and she is the devoted sub who will do anything for her

UnREAL, Quinn King/Rachel Goldberg, toxic dynamics

[sapphire2309]

That lyric from Treacherous by Taylor Swift - i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - implies Such a terrible dynamic, of Exactly the kind I imagine Quinn and Rachel having. Go wild!

Person of Interest, Kara Stanton/Root, "creative" interrogation techniques.

[sapphire2309]

Take it as dark as you want to. Noncon, torture either physical or emotional or both, anything else you can think of. Either of them can be the aggressor, they're both the type who'd do it.