violenciorp
Back again
It's been years since my last blog. I'm just here to play around in some fandoms and connect to other dark fic writers :) TW: Some fucked up shit
75 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
musicandsoundz
♩♫♬♫♩
fagus-sylvatica-beech-hedge
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH
kanwal-khan-ka-kitchen
Kanwal Khan's Kitchen
guavanoe
mon lovs u
Note
Hi! Happy to read you're writing a lot! 👏👏
I read the other asks about your wips and found them very interesting, so I would like to ask about Zemost, since it's the only one I think left that I don't know anything about... 👀
♥️♥️♥️
Zemost is a really old WIP. Last time I worked on it was December 2022... Because of multi dimensional shenanigans, a young Zemo gets pulled into a post-TFATWS canon, and Shield is doing it's best to figure out how the fuck that happened. There were some plans to let this be Zemo/Zemo, but reading through it now again... I feel there is other potential here... 🤔🤔🤔🤔
He claimed that they knew each other, but Helmut could count the American men he knew on one hand, and this James was not one of them. Said they were colleagues, but failed to elaborate how that made sense, considering Helmut had just started middle school and had no professional colleagues at all. (He also noticed that James did not claim that they were friends - which only raised the question on why he was here in the first place…?)
They don’t know where you are from., he’d say. Which made little sense, considering that they had pulled him out of his own bedroom. No, not which country, more like… which time period. Which made even less sense. Despite their distaste for the metric system, Helmut was pretty certain that Americans used calendars too, and should know that it was 1991. Or like… dimension, or something. And that, truly, made no sense at all. So if Zemo (Zemo, not Helmut, why Zemo?) could please tell them something so they could try to get him home before worse things happen…?
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay, for the WIP game... if Fave Toys 2 is A Splashing Good time, and Fave Toys 4 is the new Christmas one... what is Fave Toys 3? I'm scratching my head over it. I'm also curious about "Kk 6" because I have no idea what that is.
The Christmas one was actually Fave Toys 3! Fave Toys 4 is a short snippet set even a few years further down the time line where Zemo & Bucky are up for hijinks in Russia... Not really worked out a plot yet, but there were some lines that I wanted to write. Such as those ones!
The boy knew his place, and watching him cower at Zemo's feet certainly made his Master proud for having raised his boy right.
But. He was growing bold. Or rather - interested.
He had always been an affectionate child. His desire to nuzzle the hand that hit him may have quite been what had made James a candidate for more personal services, as opposed to sending his broad shoulders into more manual labour.
It had made training him easy, allowed Zemo to quickly break him out of the instinctual reaction to avoid what hurt him.
Well, and KK... It's chapter six of a fic I've not updated in a waaaay too long time now...
6 notes
·
View notes
Photo
helmut zemo & alex garel + this creepy way of treating children with sweets
bonus: this gesture!!!
388 notes
·
View notes
Text
For @ex0rin
"In the Lockers"
Post mission session in the lockers with Commander Rumlow.
This is the sad Tumblr version.
View it uncensored here on AO3 instead!
42 notes
·
View notes
Note
Disneyland :grin:
"Careful there, buddy."
A hand was placed onto his shoulder to keep him from falling onto his bum, keeping him nice and steady against a muscular thigh.
He'd be happy with anyone who'd be able to protect him from Loki and spoke English. But when Bucky looked up? His heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes!
"Captain America!"
With his shield and everything! And -- had he just said Bucky? Did he know his name?!
The Cap laughed. "Ya can call me Steve, kiddo."
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm almost too scared to ask but I need to know what that Laszky fic is all about... 😅
(Also, how do you recognise your wips in google docs if you don't name them? Is it Untitled doc 1, 2, 3... ?) 🤔
Here a little snippet of the Laszky fic...
While Laszlo had not expected them to become friends in the first place, he certainly had expected their friendship to end very, very quickly the moment James would learn that Laszlo… wasn’t all too interested in the ladies. He had heard what the football players had done to a so-called fag, and weren’t jocks all the same? But instead, after a couple of months of putting two and two together, James had nodded at Laszlo’s stammered confirmation to ‘You like blokes, aye?’, and flipped to the next page in their weekly study session.
No three weeks later, James shut his book rather forcefully to look Laszlo straight in the eye over the flickering light of the oil lamp he had lit. “Want to make out?”
Lmao, I just... press on random ones until I find the one i had in mind. And if I can't find it? Guess I'll just write on another one lol.
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
what on earth is the bat one?? is someone turning into a bat 👀
Unfortunately, no, nobody is turning into a bat.
It's my profesor!Zemo and gradstudent!Bucky fic, in which Zemo beats up Thomas Nagel, a RL philosopher who got v v famous in epistemology for pointing out that people can never fully know what it would be like to be a bat... Needless to say, Bucky is very impressed by gruff, Eastern European philosopher Zemo and is happily letting Zemo drag him into a queer strip club...
Chapter 1 is actually already out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47678464/chapters/120180655 For one reason or another, its probably the biggest flop I've ever written though, lol. Least popular fic for some reason, even though I love my cocky manipulative full-of-himself academic Zemo haha
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Game
THE WIP GAME Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
OKAY. MY ISSUE IS: Most of my WIPs are not named :'D But here are the ones that are:
fave toys 3
Disneyland
Laszky
NOT slick stick
fave toys 2
Prison Camp
What is it like to be a bat?
fave toys 4
Zemost
Kk 6
Deffo tagging @tales-from-a-maphia-don @the-ravening & @thepiper0fhameln @goretier Have fun!! :)
#long time since i did games like this#did a lot of writing lately and having plans to finish some big boys this year#fingers crossed
7 notes
·
View notes
Photo
- Fortune is a river -
FAWS + ACB xover:
Zemo as Niccolò Machiavelli
Bucky as Leonardo da Vinci
Sam as Ezio with the flying machine
inspired by Zemo’s favorite book in prison “Fortune is a river”
this xover came into my mind when i noticed then digged in Zemo’s book about Machiavalli.
its not written by Machiavalli himself but by Roger D. Masters titled “Fortune is a river” telling history about Machiavalli (Zemo) and Leonardo da Vinci (Bucky)’s majestic but evetually failed plan of diverging the course of river Arno to cut the enemy’s supply then end the war with Pisa (flag smashers).
But during time Leonardo strayed away to his other projects including the legendary flying machine (Sam/Falcon/Cap).
this easter egg caught my heart because the whole plot of FAWS could almost perfectly fit in this Renaissance history. and i loved Assassin’s Creed 2 and Brotherhood so much, so i have to make this xover :D
820 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oooh, so glad I found this chapter! I really hope there is gonna be more --- professor Zemo is an absolute treat, and I love how he's carefully testing the reader's limits to gently puuuuuush them further and further. Can't wait until he suggests that the only way to learn about older man/younger women is for them to reenact some love scenes ;) hoping for more xoxoxo
In The Summertime 3
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, power imbalance, grooming behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your father’s best friend gives you a job for the summer, but he’s not so interested in your work ethic.
Character: dbf!Helmut Zemo
Note: Onto my break. I'll still be around for any of your asks, etc.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
Zemo’s temporary office is airier, cozier. The lender of the space has much more modern taste, photos of the world’s capitals framed all around with some obscure foreign films intermingled. A large daybed looks out a bay window in the front and a desk sits before a wall of shelves, white and pristine unlike his own antique mahogany and walnut.
There’s a sofa against the other wall and a minifridge in the corner, a kettle on top with a chest of tea bags and jar of instant coffee. Beside the daybed, a small square metal table with a dining chair set before it. He apologises at the impromptu set up as he deems it your own.
You set to unpacking his books on the shelf emptied for his occupation. He’s at the desk pulling open the drawers and shuffling through his things as he sorts them out. You glance along those things remaining in the other cubbies, a crystal bottle of pink perfume with a vintage style pump and dried roses.
It must be a woman. That makes you wonder. It is a rather generous favour.
You carry on in the hazy silence of a high summer noon. A sudden crackle interrupts the lull and you turn to watch Zemo twist the knob on a small yellow radio, flicking the antenna to catch a signal.
Through the static, you hear the intro of radio jockeys and the low intro of the next song. He continues his efforts until the reception clears and you can make out the retro tones of The Police.
Inside him, there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking, she's so close now
This girl is half his age…
You don't know the song very well. Your father listens to some of that band, mostly the one about a castaway. You're grateful for the music, it fills the tedium of your work and eases the underlying nervousness that piques now and again. It comes to you that rarely did you spend so much time alone with Zemo.
“Ah, what a tedious day,” Zemo remarks as he rubs his lower back, standing behind the desk with a swoop of hair hanging forward, a sheen of sweat across his brow.
“It’s not so bad,” you chime, “it’s a nice place.”
“Oh yes, wonderful. My companion did say I could have full use of the home. My late nights need not be spent sleeping in a chair,” he chuckles and sits heavily in the leather seat, “ah, but the heat reminds me of my age.”
You keep a hold of the book in your hand and come closer, “are you alright?”
“Ah, I am only dramatic,” he waves you off and unbuttons his collar. “What one is that?”
He points and you look down to the novel in your hand. You bring it up and admire the tattered edges of the embossed cover; The Portrait of a Lady. You’ve never heard of it. It looks Victorian. You hold it out as you approach.
“Oh, yes, a classic. If not wildly unknown. I recommend it.”
You glance at it again and shrug. He chuckles and you look at him once more. He seems amused.
“First assignment, read it,” he taps the desk, “simple.”
“Pardon?”
“Oh yes, of course, it will aid you in our coming research,” he declares, “which I’m afraid I’ve not even shared my thesis with you. Hard to do prior to our delve into the literature. All I can say is we will be looking at a very common trope among writers, ancient, medieval, Victorian, near every era has had some fascination with the older man and the younger woman,” he pushes back his hair, trying to fix it as a stubborn strands sticks up at his crown, “it speaks often of the way of culture and society. The structural imbalances internalised by the author and characters alike.”
“Oh, wow,” you turn back with the book, “interesting.”
“It isn’t some new phenomenon or point of intrigue, but I shall explore it nonetheless. History is more than dates and boring wars,” he girds, “I always found the most interesting pieces to be the innately humanistic and what is more human than romance. Than what we perceive as love. Sex, at it’s basest, and companionship at its most genuine.”
“I never thought much of it, I guess,” you sit at the small table and lay the book down.
“But it is all around you. How many couples do you see pasted across tabloids and gossip blogs akin to Jane Eyre and her Rochester. A whole generation apart and yet they are lovers? How curious that we deify such a tale over and over.”
“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, cheeks touched with the warmth.
“As an older man, I suppose I notice it more often. Perhaps it is why it has stuck. I remain the eternal bachelor and can’t help but wonder at what element of youth draws these men so strongly to these women. It must be more than attraction, surely, but something deeper,” he puts his hands up as he explains his thoughts, “my preliminary assumption is that these stories are covert explorations of the male crises of middle age, countered in turn by the vulnerability of feminine youth and beauty.”
It sounds complicated but makes sense. While many would condemn an age difference so vast, there is a common fascination underlying these stories. Bronte is still regarded as romance, isn’t it? And you watched a few too many teen shows that presented similar gaps as forbidden love.
“I… yeah, I think I get it,” you say, “now that you say it.”
“Of course there is some reality to these tropes. Men’s worth as regarded in society has historically been economic, thus it lasts longer, whereas women were traditionally prized for their fertility and physical attributes. As muses, wives, mothers…” he seems to lose himself in a medley of racing thoughts, “and so we seek to bridge between fiction and fact.”
“Hmm, I never really considered it…” you shrug, “well, I’m young, I guess I just didn’t notice.”
“Ah, yes, naivete, another common theme to these stories. I’m afraid in this moment we are reenacting the most common steps of the dance; the young innocent enlightened by the weathered pessimist.” He laughs and claps his chest, “ugh, forgive me, I’ve some indigestion. A hair too much coffee.”
“Uh, yeah,” you open the cover and read the first page, printed with fading ink. You admire the intricate bold type of the title. “I suppose I should start reading?”
“At your leisure,” he stands, the chair lurching harshly. “We’ve only just got settled,” he walks across the room, close behind you as he stands by the daybed and peers out the tall window, “it is near lunchtime.”
“Is it?” You look over your shoulder.
“Are you hungry? I am a bit peckish. There is a bistro close by, me and the owner of this house frequent it when we argue about some dead philosopher or another.”
“Oh?” you let the book close as you put your hands in your lap. “I brought a sandwich–”
“Save it,” he insists, “let it be my treat. As a welcome and a show of appreciation for your hard work. I’ll admit, I think I was ambitious in packing. I likely won’t need all that we brought.”
You don’t argue. Your father says it often how once Zemo has an idea, he does not let it go. Besides, you won’t complain for a free meal.
“Alright,” you stand, careful not to hit him with the chair. You come close to him and smell the subtle tones of bergamot that cling to him, “what kind of food do they have?”
“Standard fare,” he looks at you, his dark eyes meeting yours before he inches back on his heels. He turns and clears his throat, “salad, sandwiches, soup. They have a cabbage soup which often runs out before I can even order.”
He goes to his chair and takes his blazer from the back of it, shrugging it onto his shoulders, “and dessert.” He smirks, “I know you’ve a sweet tooth, dear.”
You laugh. You’re sure your father mentions how he can rarely get a single cookie before the sleeve is empty. You grab your purse and approach the door as he does too, nearly colliding.
“Careful,” he warns as he touches your arm and beckons you ahead of him, “ladies first.”
You take his direction, his word hanging over you. Ladies. In that moment, you feel quite mature.
☀️
You sit at the table. You have a glass of sparkling water with a spear of lime over the brim. It’s a lot fancier than the chain restaurants your dad adores.
“A lot tamer than college, eh?” He asks as he pushes the lemon off the rim of his glass and watches it sink in the water.
“Oh, not really. I mostly studied.”
“You needn’t lie to me. I was a student once too. It is not all books and stuffy lectures. Well, I should know, I’ve accepted many a hangover as means for an extension,” he teases, “there is nothing wrong with indulging in the freedom of youth.”
“Really,” you say, “I didn’t really go out. My friends aren’t really into that scene. The most excitement I got was bubble soccer.”
“Oh, sounds… interesting.”
“It is. Kinda dangerous. You run around in these plastic bubbles and get bounced around trying to score a point,” you snort, “I was mostly on my back.”
“Adventurous,” he muses, “you made many friends?”
“A few. Classes are pretty big, it’s hard to know everyone.”
“Not like here,” he says, “and your professors? Did you like them?”
“Yeah, they were good. Well, except one, he was kind of… strict.”
“Ah yes, that type can drain the joy right out of the subject,” he tuts, “have you given any thought to what you’ll do after your degree? Another?”
“Uh, oh, no, I haven’t…” you sputter.
“Not to worry, you’ve time. But I warn you, it goes fast. Just look at me,” he plays with the streak of silver at his temple.
“Yeah,” you chew your lip.
“If you do consider a masters, you can always consider me,” he offers, “I take on assistants now and then. Of course, this year, I didn’t have any candidates. Better for it, I was abroad rather often.”
“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it,” you take a sip from your drink, “I’ll have to see what dad says. He is paying for all this.”
“He knows the importance of education. Even a man of craft can appreciate intellect,” he says, “even him.”
The waiter returns and sets down your plates. You thank him as your stomach growls at the smell of the grilled chicken wrap and fries. You notice that Zemo has opted only for a bowl of soup and crackers.
“Smells great,” you say as you carefully wiggle free the long toothpick, “thank you so much.”
“Not at all, it is my pleasure,” he picks up his spoon and stirs the soup, “lunch with a pretty young woman, I should thank you.”
“Uh, right” you murmur.
“You know I do tend to carry my shoe between my teeth with how often I put my foot in my mouth,” he kids, “my honesty does come off rather bluntly. I only mean, well, you’ve blossomed, yes? I can sense it in how you hold yourself, in how you take in the world around you. Curiosity is a very admirable quality.”
You don’t know what to say so you bite into your wrap. It’s a compliment, surely, but unlike any you’ve received before. Zemo’s way of talking, his demeanour, always keeps you on his toes. He’s eccentric but well-meaning. Your father always laughed whenever he blustered over his books vehemently. It was almost comical to think of the man as anything but a feckless scholar.
“There’s a lot to learn,” you swallow, “if college has taught me anything, it’s that.”
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
In The Summertime 2
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, power imbalance, grooming behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your father’s best friend gives you a job for the summer, but he’s not so interested in your work ethic.
Character: dbf!Helmut Zemo
Note: Another part for all you lovelies.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
After another dull day reading in the sun, you make up your mind. Dr. Zemo is always nice and you have no innate desire to work for a stranger instead, or among the general public. Your dad will just be happy to have you working and out of the house.
Weiterlesen
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another what if because I love it 👀. I had to see this to ease my mind. But when I counted how long Helmut had not seen his family, I had tears in my eyes. Zemo lost his family in 2015 and TFATWS took place in 2024.
Time: 9 hours of work 🫠
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic: Adopt, Don’t Shop (Winterbaron, A/B/O, Teen Zemo)
Once upon a time, @violenciorp lovingly bullied me and @tales-from-a-maphia-don into writing an A/B/O fic with them. This is the result of that.
Title: Adopt, Don’t Shop
Warnings: Zemo is a teen of unspecified age
Pairing: Helmut Zemo/Bucky Barnes
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 10k so far
Tags: Omega Teen Zemo, Alpha Bucky, Slavery (Omegas aren't quite their own people), Bucky bucking expectations, Age difference, Power imbalance, Shower masturbation, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, mentions of piss (no golden showers though), Public nudity, Humiliation, Physical punishment, Use of Omega Prods (colloquially known as Slick Sticks)—kinda like a cattle prod
Summary:
Helmut
Birthday: June 16
Age Group: I
Gender: Male, Omega
Hair Colour: Brown
Eye Colour: Brown
Height & Weight: 5’ / 85 lbs
Helmut is a sweet, docile little Omega that will adjust nicely to any REQUIRE an Alpha with a firm hand. He plays well in small groups tends to be a little bossy. NOT RECOMMENDED FOR HAREM INTEGRATION.
Recently presented, Helmut enjoyed an extensive education before he was surrendered to the Omega Kennel.
Fun Fact: Very sensitive to physical stimulation! Go on and try to make him moan by poking him gently!
Read on AO3!
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic: Boyfriend’s Dad (Steve Rogers/Helmut Zemo)
A little birthday gift for @violenciorp 🥳🎁
Pairings: Steve Rogers/Helmut Zemo, Helmut Zemo/Bucky Barnes (minor)
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 4.7k
Tags: BFD!Steve Rogers, Steve is Bucky's Dad, Teen Helmut Zemo, AU - Teenagers, Infidelity, PWP, Underage Sex, Age Difference, Size Difference, Bottom Helmut Zemo, Butt Plugs, Belly Bulge, Steve Rogers’s unrealistically proportioned serum enhanced wonder dick
Summary:
The dangerous thing about dating James Barnes was that his dad was really, really hot. And Zemo? Well, he’d never had much in the way of self control when it came to indulgences.
Read on AO3!
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daniel Brühl in Cargo, 2006
Dir. Clive Gordon
Part 1/?
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
In The Summertime 1
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, power imbalance, grooming behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your father’s best friend gives you a job for the summer, but he’s not so interested in your work ethic.
Character: dbf!Helmut Zemo
Note: This just sits in my drafts.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
The doorbell chirps and draws you from the reverie of your fictional paradise. You set the bookmark between the pages and put down the book, rounding the counter mindlessly as your thoughts linger on the fearless heroine’s next move. You don’t think about how late it is or that you can hear the kettle starting to quake. You’d almost forgot the very reason you’d ended up in the kitchen.
Weiterlesen
#very 👀👀👀👀 about this#excited to see where this is going#love Zemo being a lil pest about his shelves lmao#dark silver fox daddy zemo is v tasty
195 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic: Adopt, Don’t Shop (Winterbaron, A/B/O, Teen Zemo)
Once upon a time (two months ago), @violenciorp lovingly bullied me and @tales-from-a-maphia-don into writing an A/B/O fic with them. This is the result of that.
Title: Adopt, Don’t Shop
Warnings: Zemo is a teen of unspecified age
Pairing: Helmut Zemo/Bucky Barnes
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6.8k so far
Tags: Omega Teen Zemo, Alpha Bucky, Slavery (Omegas aren't quite their own people), Bucky bucking expectations, Age difference, Power imbalance, Shower masturbation, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, mentions of piss (no golden showers though), Public nudity, Humiliation, Physical punishment, Use of Omega Prods (colloquially known as Slick Sticks)—kinda like a cattle prod
Summary:
Helmut
Birthday: June 16
Age Group: I
Gender: Male, Omega
Hair Colour: Brown
Eye Colour: Brown
Height & Weight: 5’ / 85 lbs
Helmut is a sweet, docile little Omega that will adjust nicely to any REQUIRE an Alpha with a firm hand. He plays well in small groups tends to be a little bossy. NOT RECOMMENDED FOR HAREM INTEGRATION.
Recently presented, Helmut enjoyed an extensive education before he was surrendered to the Omega Kennel.
Fun Fact: Very sensitive to physical stimulation! Go on and try to make him moan by poking him gently!
Read on AO3!
44 notes
·
View notes