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until now, I was sure that it was common sense that you shouldn't glamorize rape. but the internet never ceases to disgust me.
One morning, a wukula x fem!omaticaya reader fic, written by 'm9yaa' came onto my fyp. I love the avatar franchise, so I naturally clicked on it to see what it was about, which was a mistake.
I didn’t thoroughly read through the tag list, which led me to preview a graphic rape scene 500 to 1k words into the story. By preview, I meant I only read a little before becoming so disgusted I genuinely just turned my phone off.
Here are some lines that appeared in that story:
"your body has already surrendered to him, even if your mind struggles to follow."
“i don't want this" — Y/N, who is referencing a sexual relationship with Wukula
"your mouth says no, but your body.. your body is shaking yawne." — Wukula, who is forcing himself onto her
"your body knows what it wants, even if you won't admit it." — Wukula, who is forcing himself onto her
This is rape.
These scenes are a textbook example of a rapist who wants to establish dominance and ownership over someone, so they take someone who has a clear disinterest in sexual intercourse and uses their normal physiological reactions to sexual stimulation to guilt them into ‘wanting sex’. Even though that person still doesn’t want to have sex, they are shamed and manipulated into believing that they secretly do because their body is reacting in a way that the rapist perceived as “consent”.
If this has ever happened to you, you should not be ashamed. Your body responded in the way it’s supposed to when it receives sexual stimulation, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed that it happened with someone you weren’t comfortable with. Rape doesn’t become consensual sex when the attacker makes you feel like you wanted it. You know you didn’t, and it’s not your fault that it happened. Victims should never be put at fault for the actions of their rapists. And they should never feel like it’s their responsibility to deal with their trauma on their own, or that their trauma is a result of their “weakness”. No victim of assault is weak. You are strong, and your attacker does not hold any power over you. If anyone reading needs help, my DMs are open, and I would be glad to post any hotline numbers or links to support systems.
Now, acknowledging this, I need to state that I do not have a problem with people who write for the Mangkwan tribe. James Cameron, the creator of the Avatar franchise, put great care into creating the Mangkwans. He worked closely with his actors and crew into learning about various indigenous and African cultures where practices like scarification are deeply honored. I admire the work put into the tribe, of which I find beautiful. They are incredibly different from typical Na’vi tribes like the Omatikaya or the Metakayina, and I am incredibly impressed by their culture. This does not mean I glorify torture, murder, cults, pillaging or scarification.
Personally, I believe cultural traditions surrounding self harm or abuse are too commonly practiced, and they must be stopped. James Cameron shows the importance of these rituals to the people who practice it by educating others on why they do it, but takes care on not glorifying it by showcasing the harm it does. He has amazing directive abilities, which is why I don’t mind the love people have for the Mangkwan tribe. The tribe had beautiful visuals, a good storyline, and gives attention to various indigenous cultures.
I understand why people like the Mangkwan tribe, and I understand why people wouldn’t. Trust me, I’m completely fine with people writing Mangkwan fanfics. However, I am not fine with people glamorizing rape. You cannot write something like this and think it's acceptable. A 15 thousand word story where someone is being brutally raped is not enjoyable, and it should not be given praise.
I got blocked after commenting "i'm confused... isn't this straight up rape? why are we glamorizing this?", which confused me.
Why is it so acceptable to glamorize rape? Why do authors glamorize rape? Why do so many people write about it as if it's an enjoyable experiences? How do people read it so happily, or get wet off of it?
It is just a random fanfic on the internet, but it presents a much deeper problem within common society. The decision to write, review, and post it was weird, and i needed to point it out myself since the comments on her page seemed to be eating it up.
By putting that kind of work onto the internet, you’re setting the standard that doing the act of or enjoying rape is okay, which it isn’t. When the author blocked me, they essentially admitted that they were glamorizing rape, and clearly didn’t understand why it is wrong to do so.
Unfortunately, they’re not the only author who does this. So i’m not trying to cyberbully or place all the blame on m9yaa, even if my post results in that. I’m just saying the fic was horrifying and works like that need to be taken down.
Rape is NOT a “nuanced” topic. It is a terrible thing and I have the highest sympathy and empathy for victims of assault. Don’t glamorize it on the internet, don’t glamorize it in real life, and don’t try to justify it. Rape culture is becoming too normalized and I’m SICK of it.
Any comment trying to convince me that rape is okay or that it has a place on the internet will be put on my wall of shame and effectively blocked.
wall of shame
notes for the images below:
the author blocked me way before this post was made, and since then I haven't directly contacted them, so according to the definition of bullying, I wouldn't be bullying "m9yaa".
none of my works are posted on my wattpad or tumblr yet. so have fun copying my bio, i worked super duper hard on it!
“canigotosleep—plz”, you need to learn some manners. you're 21 and you're using AI while on a platform that uplifts the hard work of authors and artists who put their soul into doing what they love. that's embarrassing, and you know it is.
doumacumslutttt, i hope someone beats your head in.
I never realized someone could be so apathetic until i had the absolute misfortune of having to talk to you.
You first claimed that "rape is not okay at all", but then you immediately contradicted yourself by claiming that you "enjoy it because (you) can". Why would you pretend to have some humanity when arguing with someone that can immediately realize when someone doesn't actually care about victims of assault or discussing the topic properly?
You don't care about rape in any form. When I asked you how you felt about a tragic case where a 12 year old girl was brutally raped by 3 teenage boys, and if you saw how horrifying it was, you simply responded with "okay what do you want ME to do about it."
Are you serious?
The purpose of that was to show you that rape isn't actually a fantasy, it's a nightmare for victims. By enjoying something that frequently oppresses women, you implicate that the victims experiences don't matter because "when it's in writing it's actually enjoyable".
Anybody that enjoys "dub-con" or "non-con" is a rapist in the making, and I stand ten toes down on that. Call "dub-con" and "non-con" what they actually are. Anything other than a sober, willing yes is a no. Stop turning the "rape" into cute little shortcut for despicable pieces of writing.
I don’t say this very often, but you should be shunned from society. You will never see the wrong of your ways, and you will continue to give rape-authors a platform by sharing their works.
Should I ever meet them in real life, I would high-five your best-friend for fucking your boyfriend, and then high-five your boyfriend for leaving you and your sick habits. They probably got sick of how you sit around all day reading graphic internet porn and justify sexual assault.
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CONTAINS ⨾ ( 2.5k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, adrian ‘alucard’ țepeș x vampire!fem!reader ( black coded ), canon-divergent, set in the set in the 15th century ( late 1400s ), established relationship, soft-dom!alucard, nasty rawww freaky ass vampire sex, missionary, blood-letting, blood drinking, size difference, use of pet names ( e.g. love, darling, iubire, etc. ), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇.ᐟ ❥ requested by the lovely @rsv3n! thank you for the splendid idea <3 i think lulu would be veryyy open to a blood-sharing ritual! actually he’s a little too excited, lol >.< he’d love teasing you with that thick, red sweetness, swapping the liquid between your tongues as he fucks you nice 'n deep mmm . . that’s as intimate as can be, and he wants to be irrevocably close to you . plsss hubby is just so in love <3 please enjoy this little blood-stained drabble, and thank you for reading! ❤︎
𝐼𝒩𝒮𝑃𝒪 𝑇𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒦.ᐟ ( ♫ ) drunk in love, beyoncé ⨾ candy, cameo ⨾ a little death, the neighborhood ⨾ whatever you want, tony! toni! toné! ⨾ join me in death, HIM ⨾ blur, the marias
dhampir blood is cloying, to put it best. sticky, syrupy, and far more potent than any mortal vein. your husband had been kind enough to let you drink in that confirmation just hours ago.
castlevania’s ancient stone held the chill of a thousand transylvanian winters, but within alucard’s grand bedroom suite, the air was just about thick enough to tangibly cut through. on the floor lay a forgotten graveyard of finery — stiff silk corsets and a froth of ruffled lace embroidery cast aside in the height of your lustful fever.
with a reverence that treats you like glass, alucard has you laid upon velvet furs, dropping you tenderly as if you weren't immortally powerful. he lowers his own body down to yours, defined and beautifully scarred, until his limbs entwine with your own and the cold of the castle fades into a distant memory.
your skin remains so soft to the touch, holding this otherworldly glow; even after turning into something devoid of life. in the guttering candlelight, his pale skin looks like polished marble, the flickering flame highlighting the pink slash of his flesh scar, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between your cold, pressed bodies. he was only one part mortal, a beautiful contradiction you find it to be — and beneath his ribs, half of a heart still drums a slow, heavy rhythm.
alucard’s hips find their home between your thighs once he finally sinks into you. you bracket the slim taper of his waist with your trembling legs, head throwing back as he presses the slippery crown of his pretty cock past the sticky schism of your puffy lips. you moan so deliciously whenever he enters you, a sound as coaxing as a lullaby; he doubts he’s ever heard anything sweeter.
his wispy blonde lashes flutter whenever your gushing hole contracts just enough to squeeze around the girth of him. he swears your heartbeat never truly left you; it must’ve simply gone down to your cunt, waiting for his touch to call it back to the surface. he begins to press into you with slow, deliberate rocking. it utterly delights him — watching you mewl at the stretch he brings, breasts swaying with each thrust careful thrust he feeds you.
“adrian . . mmm, d—don’t hold back on me,” your plush lips are agape, the sliver of your precise fangs shining as you puff out sultry breaths of air out between them. “please, my love, fuck me faster,” you plead, the soft ache of knowing you can handle him — and that he knows it too — melting thick and heavy between you.
your stiletto claws glide like the flat of a smooth blade over his skin, tearing vivid lines of crimson down the pale, broad canvas of his back. a low chuckle spills from him, dark and sweet like honeycomb, sending a deep, rhythmic throb straight to your core. there’s no need for words; you both know the truth by now. he craves the pain you bring.
“whatever you wish, my dear,” he indulges your request, no matter how bratty your whims might be, and takes a firm hold of your waist; hands locking onto the dipped curve of it, anchoring you to the bed, to him, so he can plow into your sopping pussy until the sharp collision of slapping skin casts the wettest, most lewdest of echoes throughout his bedchamber. your voice breaks into a scream of pure delight, a sweet kind of sound that vibrates through the room, making the wallachian-pine of the bedframe creak and groan beneath every heavy drop he makes into you.
he begins to moan out your name between labored huffs, fangs bared with every breathless moan that slips out from his bobbing throat. adrian lowers his head, a curtain of golden hair cascading around him as his dark gaze fixes on the exact point where he enters you — over, and over, and over again.
you peer up at him lovingly, trace the image of your angel of a husband; watching as the base of his throbbing cock sheathes in deep, just to reappear with every heavy, punctuated drive of his hips. his abdomen flexes tightly with the effort. higher up, his thin brows are drawn up, pearly teeth grit, and his nose scrunched as his eyes squeeze shut in the pure surge of pleasure.
then, your gaze drifts, zoning in on his exposed throat.
you find yourself fixated on the slender, elegant line of his neck, tracing the way it curves seamlessly into his shoulders and collarbone — you’ve always held a soft spot for it, your lips constantly drawn to kiss and nuzzle the skin there. the sloping protrusion of his adam’s apple catches your gaze of how he swallows down his pooling desire, all as you eye that subtle vein running along the side, pulsing with every breath.
the curiosity has lived in you for so long — the wonder of what a dhampir’s blood might taste like . . . what alucard’s would taste like. as the intensity between you builds, your dilated eyes blow wide, mouth parting as you fixate on his neck. your focus narrows entirely on the way the veins running along it grow prominent, with all the exertion he’s putting into fucking his darling wife so, so well.
your husband’s always had the uncanny ability to anticipate your thoughts, even before you act on them. his eyes snap open, catching you in the act of staring — as if the sudden, ebbing heat in his flowing arteries have already warned him exactly where you want to bite.
the hammering pulse in his throat begins to thrum harder.
“ah, you thirst . . . is that it, my love? shall I grab a chalice?” he delivers an especially grinding thrust, pairing it with the humble swipe of his thumb over your clit. you whine, you nod, you weep, all from the sheer pleasure of it.
your head tosses against the pillows, the thorny edge of your nails sinking into his shoulder blades until fresh, bright blood spills and beads over your grip. it takes everything in your being to keep your hands from drifting up to your awaiting tongue.
“hnnn! y-yes, but I . . . I want yours,” you manage to gasp the words out, even as the heavy force of his rhythm knocks the breath right from your lips. your eyes lock — your glassy, completely dilated gaze catching the piercing gold of his. in that silent, breathless look, everything clicks.
he finally gets it.
“you — haah, you wish to taste of me?” adrian questions, leaning down low, slowing his thrusts and fucking into you harder, deeper, as if to pound the truth out of you. you nod, teary and needy, hands trailing up to caress either side of his neck, warming his silken skin with your open palms.
“mhm,” you whisper, “i’m sure you’re sweeter than any wine . . .” your teeth catch your bottom lip, aching for the moment his potent blood finally drips onto your tongue. your ribbed, velvety walls clench around him at the mere thought, a sudden sensation that ripples through you both. adrian feels your pulse throb in perfect tandem against his skin as his hips continue their slow, heavy roll.
“fuck,” he manages out, the word torn from his throat. he never imagined a desire so dark would excite him so. “for how long have you yearned for this?”
“far too long, my love,” you mewl against his skin, pressing stray, wet kisses up the length of his neck. your fangs lightly graze his sweat-sheened throat, catching right over his adam’s apple. you suck gently against the pulse point, the sharp friction causing him to twitch and jump deep inside you with a sudden, ragged gasp.
“resist no longer, iubire.” he whines lowly, the muscles of his thighs and core flexing hard against you with every deep shove. “take what you want.”
alucard gathers his long blond hair in one hand, sweeping the heavy tresses over his shoulder to bare the smooth expanse of his neck. you gaze up at him, mapping the absolute submission written on his face. his golden irises gleam back at you in the dark, glinting with a sharp, needy excitement as he waits to feel your fangs against his skin.
as if to soothe your hesitation, he implores you with the breath of a command against your skin:
"drink of me." he whispers, his voice a low, heavy vibration that seems to echo through the silent stones of the chamber. it does well at reassuring you. sliding up the smooth, warm expanse of his neck in your hands, you bring your lips to his skin, agape mouth brushing his artery with a grateful sort of reverence. leaning in, you allow your fangs to graze the hot skin of his jugular, tracking the frantic ba-dum of the pulse that marks his human heritage.
when you finally, finally, bite down, alucard lets out the sharpest, most ragged breath, his hands locking onto your hips as he bucks up into you at the welcome intrusion. his rich dhampir blood surges into your mouth — a potent, velvety syrup that tastes of concentrated life and a deep, metallic sweetness that coats your tongue like the most saccharine nectar.
“hngh, y—yes, yes, yes . . .” his eyes scroll back into his head as you cradle his beautiful face in your hands, completely helpless under your touch as you drain him, lapping his blood hungrily into your mouth. the fluid is intoxicatingly rich and warm, sliding down your throat like a heavy, golden essence that could only belong to a dhampir. he trembles beneath you, utterly consumed by the way your tongue sweeps along his major artery, siphoning every sugary drop of the rich blood he so willingly surrenders to you.
you let out a soft, gratified moan at the cloying sweetness of him; though not entirely drinking every ounce he offers. you hold some of the thick velvet syrup behind your teeth — gathering just enough in your mouth to perform the next ritual you have in mind. pulling back just by an inch, you meet his gaze with a heavy, unblinking focus, your plush mouth stained with the red coppery-taste of his life-force.
alucard blinks down at you hazily, his golden eyes blown out and dazed as he groans against your lips. when you finally press your mouth back to his, the exchange is thick, visceral, and wet; nasty and lawless, just as vampires would do.
your fangs clash against his — a sharp clicking of ivory, as you share a desperate kiss that blends salt and iron. the rich essence slicks your tongues, and alucard greedily drinks his life-force straight back from your mouth.
alucard tilts his hips into yours with a slow, grinding force, his large frame pinning you flat against sheets of romanian silk as he slides back deep inside you.
his hands find yours against the soft bedding, his long fingers sliding between your own to intertwine and lock your palms tightly together. the direct friction of his thighs against yours generates a building heat that matches the warm syrup coating your tongues.
he pulls back just an inch, his eyes glowing a fierce gold in the dim light as he gives one final, bone-deep shove that leaves you both trembling. his lips are stained a deep, beautiful red, mirroring your own.
“never thought my wife would be so . . . thirsty,” he muses, swiping his tongue over your lips. you can feel him smiling against them, a soft and intimate pressure.
you’re nearing closer to the edge, all from the searing taste of his blood, every sensation amplified to a fever pitch. he is also hazy from the feeding, his movements turning drawled and heavy as he rolls into you.
“c–cumming,” he huffs, grinding his pelvis down into yours one last. “mmm . . me too,” you clasp your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a messily wet kiss as your walls pull taut around him, reaching your coiling climax with a silent scream released straight into his mouth.
he returns the intensity, fucks shallowly into your gripping cunt; spilling thick, lukewarm ribbons of his heavy load deep inside you. you both rock into each other, riding the high of it all with shut eyes, panting into each other’s mouths until the heat finally peaks. adrian lifts himself off of you to lay beside you, his strong arms coiled around your waist to pull you close against his chest.
side-by-side in the stillness of the chamber, you lay curled together on the plush bedding. the ancient castle grows still, though the heat of the moment remains between you. he drowsily blinks his heavy eyes open, his cheeks a beautiful, shaded rose that deepens into a rich crimson. his mouth is slightly agape, the lower lip stained with the bright, copper taint of his own life-force.
“you still look rather . . . parched, my love.” his hand slides up to caress your waist, his smile widening slightly as he offers you his bare throat. his fingertips trace the wet bite marks on his neck, marveling a bit at the funny, new sensation of being on the receiving end of those punctured holes. knowing the wounds will knit together soon, he silently urges you to lean back in and get some your fill before his flesh heals over.
“come, dragă mea,” he insists, pulling you in closer by your waist until you're flush against him. bringing his thumb up, he slowly swipes it over your reddened lip, his mirthful golden eyes searching yours.
