#TW: grooming

[hevexns-realm]

!!!! GET THIS FOOL OF THE PLATFORM, NO HERO NOR VILLIAN WILL EVER ACCEPT THIS FOOL- !!!!

@hunniegl4zed @thebreadmeower

PLEASE READ!!!

TW: Grooming, sexually charged messages

Snow SDA/Shadow The Dark Angel/Dark Angel Dubs has been actively engaging in predatory behavior with numerous minors. He has also (until today) been actively dating a 15-year-old. She reached out to me regarding their relationship and has since cut contact, but this individual is a danger to all minors and NEEDS to be blacklisted from the fandom. Evidence below the cut.

Everything we know so far is outlined in this thread, which originally came from Beni. After receiving more information, I have elaborated with evidence of my own.

He even had the AUDACITY to post the most half-assed, nothingburger of an apology I've ever seen.

Here are several of his accounts, PLEASE block this man and warn others of his behavior. Main: https://x.com/SnowSDA319 Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@darkangeldubsofficial/videos

[thesassyravioli]

likes charge, reblogs cast or whatever

[smalldicksantiago]

I'M THE VAMPIRE ARMAND AND MY DADDY VAMPIRE GROOMED ME INTO A LITTLE BITCH!!!

[poppy-metal]

naaaahhhhh im not normal abt dads bsf patrick at all 😭😭😭 after your unacceptable intrusion he definitely gets furious with you, maybe says some things he doesn't mean in the heat of the moment. Then you're gone. He feels like a piece of shit, not being able to get you out of his mind, overthinking in the ungodly hours of the night about how he should've reacted instead. Next time he's fucking the same woman on his bed, with her long, slender legs wrapped around his hips, he thinks of you. Your sweet, hopeful smile, the blush on your cheeks after he hugs you, your beautiful eyes looking up at him like he was the best thing in the world, a man to be worshipped. Fuck...he cums. Cums right then and there. This was not going to end well.

none of us are normal

because he hates that you got into his head. he didn’t even think of you that way. for once, he wasn't a shitty person to a girl in his life. he was like, a good male figure in your life. kinda sorta. definitely not a role model, but someone who cared about you. and it wasn't tainted - and then you'd gone and ruined it when you started crushing on him. you were desperately obvious about it, with your crop tops and short shorts and wanting to be around him more and more. big batting lashes and singing his praises.

you'd ruined it - because he's not a good man, and he noticed your body. he'd noticed and he'd had reactions to it and he'd worked to keep thos reactions under wraps, putting distance between you, making himself less available. you'd find someone your age, he was sure. you only wanted him because he was older and 'bad' in your eyes. rugged and forbidden. every girl who grew up too sweetly wanted to be corrupted. it was boredom. he'd chased the same things when he was younger and bored. women older than him, girls he couldn't have. it was the thrill. patrick fucking loved the thrill. he still did.

but he was older now. and you were his best friends daughter. and there had to be a line there, somewhere.

but then you'd gone and ruined that too, when you'd cried in his kitchen because he had another woman over. like he was betraying you somehow. and he knew he'd probably not drawn the line deep enough in the sand as he should have.

he remembered your face when he told you, you shouldn't come around anymore - that it wasn't appropriate - how you'd gotten all misty eyed like he'd pulled the rug out from under you and asked if that meant he didn't like you anymore and he'd closed his eyes because he was in alot deeper shit than he thought if you were worried about him liking you. it wasn't about that. he cared about you. but it wasn't. it couldn't be - anything. because you were young and impressionable and his fucking best friends daughter, for fucks sake.

he'd seen you as a baby. held you in his arms when you were a toddler and bounced you on his shoulders. do you know how fucked it is, you wanting him to feel something for you when he remembers what you looked like all chubby cheeked with baby fat and missing teeth you'd put under your pillow for the tooth fairy? do you know what kind of person you're asking him to be when you walk into his home with your nipples poking through your shirs and acting like a little fucking housewife?

do you want to ruin his life? ruin his relationship with your dad? ruin whats left of his conscious? and all for, what? a good fuck from an older man? a quick step into the wild side before you skipped on back happily to the white picket fence you live behind and go back to dating men your own age? is that it? you want him to fuck you - teach you what its like to cum - before you settle down?

his life isn't a fucking game or a dalliance. he's fucking fed up with you and your blasé attitude. you're nothing but a spoiled fucking brat.

that'd made you cry. big fat tears. and of course he'd felt like shit. like someone had reached into his chest and punched his heart. girls like you shouldn't cry.

"but-" you'd blubbered. "its n-not a game to me. i love you- i want you -"

fuck. fuck, fuck. fuck.

over and over again in his head.

"dont say that." in a cracked voice. "god, please. dont fucking say that. you dont mean it -"

"i do!" trembling jaw and determined tear filled eyes pinning him in place. you had so much fire in you. "you think i want to feel this way? that i dont know how fucked up it is? that i havent tried to feel different? you're not some - some ride on the wild side i wanna take - you're the only person i think about. do you get that? im supposed to be thinking about guys from the football team. shawn from fucking economics. but all i can fucking think about is you. you're in my dreams! you're everywhere. its not fair! its not fair you're everything and i have to deal with it alone - you cant - you cant s-say i dont mean what i feel - you cant say that - you dont know- "

its blurry after that. he thinks he stood there in shock for a moment. he thinks he said some mean shit. insensitive shit. shit that made you run out of his house in tears. he didn't go after you.

you can't have feelings for him. you can't. it'd be too destructive. the last time patrick loved someone.... it didn't end well. and that was without the whole essential power dynamic and grooming situation going on. shit. had he groomed you? that thought haunted him more than he wanted to admit. and not in ways he was proud of.

he'd tried to put you out of his mind. buried himself in other women - in their slick welcoming bodies - but the thinks of you during - which. fuck.

he cant help it and its entirely your fault.

he has a perfectly hot woman under him and she's doing all the right things - clenching on his cock - raking her nails down his back - moaning his name - and all he can think about is your pink nail polish - girlish and sparkly - gripping onto the muscles of his shoulders and back.

all he can think about is your sweet voice and how it'd sound in different tones like when you're begging for it harder or crying out because he's so big - he's sure he'd tear you open- that the tears he saw on your face in his kitchen would look so much better sliding down your cheeks when its his cock you're crying on.

he thinks most horribly of your pussy. the tight grip of it - how small and new you'd be - how he'd get to crack you wide open, split you apart, teach you all the ways to please a man, all the way your body can bend to take him inside you. have you ever thought about having something in your ass? because he'd want to take it. put his tongue and fingers there - bully his cock in next - god, that bratty little mouth - he could really fucking punish it, couldn't he? punish you for saying whimsical shit like you think about him all the time.

would you still look up at him with those big worshipful eyes with your throat full of his cock and drool spilling down your chin? if you wanted him so much - would you let him do whatever he wanted? with that same adoration in your eyes?

he cums with that thought in mind. has to bite the womans shoulder so he doesn't groan your name. his cum fills up the condom and all he can think is, if it was you under him, he'd be inside you raw.

[julescant]

Brandi Broke, Dina Caliente and creepy men

I love the idea Brandi Broke and Dina Caliente dating, because this relationship is also a way for them to heal from fucked-up relationships they had with men before.

Brandi starts dating Skip as a teen. But according to TS3 Skip is only 7 days younger than Brandi's parents. In the game Bob and Betty are teens and Skip is a child. And Brandi is obviously not even planned at this point. So you can interpret this information as an adult Skip getting in the relationship with much younger Brandi (or at least kissing her from what we can see in her memories).

Even if we consider TS3 as an alternative timeline, Brandi is only 7 days into her adult life stage and Dustin is already a teen. Was he born when she still was a teenager? Maybe Brandi and Skip were just two stupid teenagers, but the situation is still not ideal.

Michael Bachelor being creepy with Dina is not even a headcanon. We know that he is much older than Dina. At the beginning of the game, he's already died of old age! And Dina is 28 days away from being an elder, she's really young. According to Dina's memories, she had her first kiss with Michael when she was a teen.

It makes sense to me how quickly Dina and Brandi became best friends. They've experienced similar traumatic events in their lives.

But that's just my interpretation of the pieces of data EAxis left us with. Definitely not trying to start drama because of pixel people :)

[kate-rose-red]

Jason Spisak has announced he's recorded lines for Arcane Season 2.

(TW: SA, Grooming)

He also has numerous sexual misconduct allegations against him dating as far back 2017.

And has had a pattern of behavior of DMing young women who were fans of his - specifically...Jinx cosplayers.

He's admitted to dating one, a 22-year-old Jinx cosplayer, who was a fan of his (he's 49.)

If you know anything about Jason Spisak, he loves the Jinx and Silco relationship. It's all he talks about in interviews.

So for him to have a pattern of behavior DMing young girls, soliciting sexual relationships from them, via their attachment and interest in the Silco character, and Jinx herself - is very. Very. Scary.

Evidence in screenshots listed below, including an audio recording.

It's obvious he fetishizes the Jinx and Silco relationship and grooms young girls on that basis.

Be informed. He's still getting work, in the very show he's utilized to find victims.

The bits of evidence presented can be found here, but there's a lot more I've left out: https://twitter.com/i__am_the_truth/status/1554959726672322560

[prettyinpwn]

Bill and Ford and Adult Grooming - Why Gravity Falls is a Metaphor Champion for Abusive Relationships (GF Writing Analysis Pt. 4)

GF Writing Analysis Series:

Pt. 1 - Ford Pines: A Masterclass in Writing a Good Flawed Character Pt. 2 - How Gravity Falls Could Have Been Better + Poor Ford and Wendy Pt. 3 - Mabel Pines: How Well Was She Written... Really?

Hello and welcome to the fourth post in my GF Writing Analysis series! Though the title is self-explanatory, I still want to warn folks that this post will contain dark content relating to adult grooming AKA abuse. If that is content you'd rather avoid (and for some reason your filters did not catch my trigger warning tags), this is your heads up that this post will contain that type of discussion.

For those of you who are not sure what adult grooming is, no, it's not the sexual grooming between an adult and a minor like we typically think of when the term "grooming" comes up, nor does it have to be romantic at all, although sexual acts can be a part of this form of grooming. It is defined as:

"-the predatory act of manoeuvring another individual into a position that makes them more isolated, dependent, likely to trust, and more vulnerable to abusive behaviour. The goal is to prepare the other person for abuse (for example, sexual or financial) later. Therefore, the groomer’s first step is to establish friendship and trust." (Source).

It is my belief that the relationship between Bill and Ford in Gravity Falls - which The Book of Bill helped illustrate even more - is one of adult grooming. This post will explore how the concept of adult grooming applies to the relationship between Bill and Ford, how it changes our perception of them as characters, and the value of showing metaphors for abuse in media for all ages - like Gravity Falls is - to help bring to light this very real and underdiscussed issue and help victims recognize it themselves.

Defining Adult Grooming Further + Who Bill Really Is

We already visited the definition of adult grooming above, but we haven't explored the psychology behind it yet. Namely, I want to explore who partakes in adult grooming on both ends. There is the abuser, and the victim.

The abuser is described as often being:

"Narcissists, Antisocial predators, con artists and sexual aggressors practice grooming to target and manipulate vulnerable people for exploitation." (Source).

Well, very obviously, we know that Bill is the abuser. But... why? He could be a narcissist, an antisocial predator, and a con artist, just like the above description. But which? Why is he an abuser?

Well, our first inclination might be to turn to The Book of Bill and think about his backstory; how he could see in the third dimension in a two dimensional world, tried to "liberate" his dimension to see what he could see, and... then slaughtered them all. He implies it was an accident. He just "wanted the best" for his people. But... drumroll please... get ready for a U-turn into some literary talk...

The Great Gatsby references surrounding The Book of Bill were more than just a "lol random" joke. Infamously, the narrator of The Great Gatsby, Nick Carraway, is what's called an 'unreliable narrator'. This is a writing technique defined as:

"-any narrator who misleads readers, either deliberately or unwittingly. Many are unreliable through circumstances, character flaws or psychological difficulties. In some cases, a narrator withholds key information from readers, or they may deliberately lie or misdirect." (Source).

To me, after understanding just how much more Hirsch has tied The Great Gatsby to The Book of Bill's release (e.g "TJ Eckleburg" being the password to get into the associated ARG website, offering a free PDF of The Great Gatsby on said website)... I think what Hirsch is trying to say, is... Bill is an unreliable narrator, as well. Not that that wasn't already well established throughout the series.

Let's ask ourselves this question: is there anyone Bill hasn't lied to? Tried to gain sympathies from? I'll wait. Because the answer is no. Bill lies every time he opens his mouth. Even the god of the Gravity Falls setting - the Axolotl - calls him a liar in the Dipper and Mabel and the Curse of the Time Pirates' Treasure!: Select Your Own Choose-Venture book.

So as a small aside to the main point of this post: I don't think there's anything in The Book of Bill that we can guarantee is proof or canon. If I'm honest, I think The Book of Bill is the mad rambling of a monster trying to justify to us as well as himself that he's better than he really is. He's an unreliable narrator to himself because he needs to save himself from mentally shattering upon the admission that, yeah, he's really that horrible of a person.

If I were to define what The Book of Bill is, is it's a sad attempt to elicit sympathy for a monster, by a monster. It's a masterclass in how he - as an abuser - grooms someone. If you read The Book of Bill and walk away feeling bad for Bill, then congratulations! You would have fallen prey to him just like Ford did. And just like everyone who ever fell prey to him before that.

The metaphor Gravity Falls and its extra content illustrates through Bill is how charming, funny, and enticing and sexy according to Tumblr for some godforsaken reason abusers can be in real life. Because the worst of monsters are the ones who do everything to convince you they're not.

So what does this say about Bill as a character? Don't be fooled. He really is that monstrous. He doesn't have any redeeming qualities. Everything Bill does is with a goal in mind, a person to be used or manipulated to get there, and with a complete lack of conscience to stop himself from doing it. And that's what makes Bill such a strong and terrifying villain: He really is that evil. He really is that soulless. He's not a villain of great strength or power that can be easily defeated with might. He's a villain that underlines something very real beyond a screen or book page, something that we all likely have experienced in real life: an abuser.

Bill and Ford: Abuser and Abused + How Bill Does It

Getting back to the definition of adult grooming, let's explore how it works. There are typical steps abusers like Bill use. We'll list them, then list examples alongside each step that show how Bill used these tactics on Ford for the sake of both exploring their characters more, and illustrating how well Gravity Falls depicts actual abuse.

Please note that I'm using this source as my guideline on the steps of adult grooming.

Step One: Targeting the Victim

The abuser first looks for someone they can target. They learn all they can about the victim. Typically, they look for victims who are:

Unpopular or have family problems. Gee... who does this sound like?

People who have low self-esteem. GEE... sounds familiar again.

People who have mental/physical disabilities. Although Ford does not have either, at least not proven in canon, it is possible that his genius could be considered a disability in how high IQ individuals typically are more socially isolated, depressed, anxious, insomnia-ridden from overthinking, and can have troubles with making friends due to likeliness to correct others (*cough* "Grammar, Stanley." *cough), different senses of humor, and being misunderstood. (Source). Plus, we know his polydactyly caused people to outcast him.

People who have already been through abuse. I - and many others - have made the point that it's common fan interpretation that Ford's father was abusive to a point. At the very least, I have argued in previous posts that Filbrick taught Ford that "value = what money you make from smarts". He was, after all, supposed to be "their ticket outta this (New Jersey poor neighborhood) dump", right? Assuming this is true, well... Ford was already taught from a young age that his value was in how others could use him. Filbrick may have primed him to be abused by Bill, unintentionally.

Okay, so we've established step one of adult grooming, and how Ford fits 99% of these criteria at least for the type of victim an abuser targets. What about step two?

Step Two: Gaining Trust

Honestly, I don't need to elaborate much on this part. I'll just quote the article I sourced before, because any Gravity Falls fan will instantly know how this applies to Bill and Ford:

"Groomers can be hard to notice as they will do their best to appear safe and genuine. This makes it hard to identify them. Over time, they will gradually manipulate the victim to be dependent on them."

"While gaining trust, the groomer may use flattery like offering gifts, admiration, and sharing “secrets” with the person to make them feel special. The groomer may do favours for someone. The groomer may gradually begin asking for favours in return, generally starting small. This may be the start of a romantic relationship or a simple friendship."

"Groomers may share secrets with their target in order to make them feel special and trusted by the groomer. This also may make the target feel they need to share secrets of their own, which the groomer may later use to increase their power over the target."

I mean... *gestures at all of Ford's journals and interactions with Bill in The Book of Bill*. Bill couldn't get any more textbook abuser/adult groomer than this. He praised Ford, shared secrets with him, made him feel so special, etc.

Step Three and Four: Filling a Need and Isolation

These steps are quite self-explanatory. The abuser (Bill) convinces the victim that they need them. "You need me to complete your portal project, Ford.". "No one else understands you, Ford.". And then comes the isolation, and where we'll touch on Stan and McGucket.

"Groomers will likely try to isolate the victim from their loved ones. This may be evident in the way they refuse to meet family and loved ones. Or perhaps they bad mouth them, or try to point out to the victim that the groomer is the only one who really and truly cares for them. Being isolated from friends and family makes it harder for the victim to notice warning signs."

Bill convinced Ford he didn't need anyone but him. He convinced him to isolate more and more; to push his brother away, to push McGucket away, until Ford had literally no support network, making him prime prey for Bill to take advantage of.

Step Five+: The Real Abuse

This step can manifest in many different ways. After reading the article sourced above, there are so many similarities to what Bill did to Ford. I'll list them here:

Continuing isolation.

Destroying self-esteem.

Physical abuse (leaving Ford with bloody knuckles, making his body hurt, leaving him on top of the Shack in the freezing cold, etc).

Seek to take control over victims (in Bill's case, the fantasy/supernatural metaphor of possession is just that: a metaphor for control).

Normalizing behaviors that aren't normal ("Here, I'll just possess you more and more, I swear giving me complete control is normal!").

Making the victim feel helpless.

And many, many more. Folks, I'm not going to lie: I would not be surprised if Hirsch and other writers involved in Bill's creation read a manual on how abusers work (or maybe experienced it in their own lives, but hopefully not, as I wouldn't wish that on anyone) to write Bill. Because Bill does these steps on cue to Ford. He is a textbook abuser.

So... What Does This Say About Bill and Ford?

The dark humor in Bill's writing is that he portrays his shadowy side as lighthearted, but there's a very, very dark underbelly of abuse in everything he does. Even the way we interact with Bill as viewers/readers in real life is a microcosm of his abuse. Look at how he's written:

"Oh, I look like an innocent, funny little triangle guy. Don't mind me. *Does something horrifying and awful.* Oh, I'm just funny, trust me, look how sad I am for losing Ford, and how I drink about it, and I'm all sad here in interdimensional therapy, and I kept a speck of dust from my dimension in my hat! I swear I'm really regretful!"

Text in point: "I'm just a rascal! A funny little guy! But everyone seems to think I'm "evil" or "a sociopath".

He wants to be a hero, or a star, as he calls it. He shows himself on a magazine cover, as someone talked to in a live show, as the leader of the Henchmaniacs (which I'd argue are also either are abusers or victims themselves based on how Bill describes them in the book), etc.

But he's a liar. He's a conman. He's a dream demon; a demon that has power over dreams, but dreams are just that: lies and illusions. Like I said, even the Axolotl thinks so:

"Saw his own dimension burn. Misses home and can't return. Says he's happy, he's a liar. Blame the arson for the fire."

What that line and this screenshot means, is that Bill is 100% to blame for the destruction he wreaks. He didn't "show people the truth". He burned them alive because they didn't worship him as the hero he wanted so badly to be, and he blamed it on, "Well, they just didn't GET what I was trying to tell them.". And the worst part about Bill, is he knows deep down he's to blame; that he has the blood of millions on his hands. But he literally tries to describe it as "liberating" his kind. Ford knows this, too, and tells us directly in The Book of Bill that the book itself is a sham:

Key quotes being: "It will become whatever it must to deceive you, to pull you in." and "DO NOT BELIEVE A WORD".

Honestly, there's only one line Bill ever said that was truth:

Yet, even though Bill knows he's a monster, he never stops. He's had millions of years to change, yet he hasn't. And I doubt he ever will. That's why the Theraprism is effective: it's a jail of his own making. He could get out if he wanted to get better and worked at it. He's always had the key to unlock his cage. But he won't. Because he can't admit fault.

So instead of fixing himself, he keeps wanting to drag others into his cage with him. Like a man drowning who'll grasp onto anyone else struggling, pretending he's helping them float together, only to push them down to keep himself above the water. But in the Theraprism, he has no one to pretend to. He's a "theatre kid without a stage", like Ford said. A little emotional leech without someone to latch onto. He's just alone, like he was after he destroyed his entire dimension.

As for Ford, he champions the story of a victim who regained his power and heals through the love of his family. If you read his and Bill's story from the perspective of abuser vs. victim, it's the story of a man who was isolated, taken advantage of, nearly destroyed... but then wrests his power back and chases after his abuser for thirty years for revenge. However, it's telling that it's not through his thirst for vengeance that Bill is defeated, but through his brother's love for him and the rest of their family.

I mean, look at the main villains of Gravity Falls: someone who sacrificed his family (Bill), someone who was selfish and didn't give a crap about his family (Gideon), etc. And the heroes: people who self-sacrificed for their family. All the Pines wrestle with this theme, from things as small as Dipper giving up a let's be honest very minimal chance at Wendy to make Mabel happy and win Waddles at the fair, Mabel destroying her puppet show to save Dipper from Bill, Ford self-sacrificing and getting tortured for I don't even know how many days locked up with Bill during Weirdmageddon to protect others, and Stan performing the ultimate sacrifice in the finale for his family and world.

Bill is the antithesis to the Pines: a selfish abuser who killed his family. And the Pines are heroes because they learn the moral lesson of the story: to give up pride and selfishness to forgive, self-sacrifice, and love your family and do anything for them, despite your trauma or prior disagreements. They could have just as easily ended up like Bill: awful because of a refusal to admit fault or self-sacrifice. But they don't, because they learned what Bill never did.

That's also why this show focuses so much on the theme of past vs. future and letting go; the Pines learned to let go and accept change, Bill never did. He's stuck. Funny how time stops whenever Bill shows up in the real world, huh? /symbolism wink

And that's why Gravity Falls - and Ford and Bill's story especially - is a champion metaphor for abusive relationships and healing from them.

[kelin-is-writing]

Endeavor is not the only one to blame for ruining the family. Rei is equally to blame for ruining the family as well. She is a completely TERRIBLE and SHIT mother. Has done absolutely NOTHING for her kids. She neglected Dabi, Fuyumi and Natsuo. Willing to replace her own son by creating another kid. That fucked up. Had creepy disturbing thoughts against her own kids just coz they look like their father. Getting slapped is no fucking excuse to further neglect all of her kids by running away and abusing Shoto. As a mother she has no responsibility whatsoever. Rei is no victim. Rei is an abuser who got what she deserved. There's no point in complaining about Endeavor all the time but glorifying Rei. Both are equally bad parents. If you still don't realise that then please don't be a mom. #FuckRei #WorstMotherEver #KillRei

Okay, first of all how about you calm down? We don’t even know each others, but you come into my inbox asking for a not so civil discussion? Yooooo 😂😂😂

And you know what? Yes, Endeavor is entirely to blame actually because everything that happened is a consequence of his big ass man actions and yes, Rei wasn’t a good mother (Nobody said the contrary), but at least she tried unlike someone else who was way too self-absorbed to see anyone else aside from his egotistical self and his selfish goal.

“She neglected her kids”, Well of course she did! Every 2/3 business days she was busy popping out kids like a children machine and not being able to say anything back, otherwise her good-for-nothing and abusive “Husband” would beat her up and blame everything on her. Oh! What a coincidence! Just like how you did right now! Crazy, right? 😃

But what some of you peoples in this fandom fail miserably to grasp, because blinded way too much by whatever you see in Endeavor (or just because you guys like to Victim Blame), is that when the Himura’s sold her to Enji, Rei was prolly underage. Why underage? Easy. Enji is 45 when he’s introduced, while Touya is 24 right? 45-24= 21 and since ALL the married couples in Bnha have a 4 years gap (go check it on their Wikis mwah) and math isn’t an opinion: 21-4= 17 everyone! Wohoo. Right?

Rei was sold to the Todoroki’s when she was underage, but not only that… Enji has groomed her for years, then he started to spiral over greed, fame and power after he found out his child couldn’t achieve for him something that he can’t achieve on his own, because he’s a useless and self-centered beast.

Unlike him who is a whole ass adult when Touya is born, Rei is extremely young AND has become a mother for the very first time so without the guidance and the emotional support of someone who has already been a parent before her, I find it hard to for a woman to deal with both postpartum depression and rising a child alone the way she did at fucking 17 guys. And she has dealt with this over and over for four-freaking-times; Natsuo and Shoto’s ones were even worse because from the scenes alone (manga speaking) you can clearly tell Enji has forced himself on her for the last twos, furthermore Enji beats her up and from Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shoto’s reaction you can tell it wasn’t the first nor the last time since it has gone to the point where Rei was traumatized so bad that she started hallucinating of Enji’s gaze in her kids’ eyes made her have a mental breakdown. That’s how much he has abused her. All this because her husband was too focused on grooming first his wife and then his kids for the sake of a goal he didn’t have the balls to try reach by himself and projecting his insecurities on his family, because he isn’t enough of a man and pisses in his pants only at the mention of All Might’s name. I can’t take such a subject seriously, if I gotta be honest.

Mind you, this madness continued even after Touya’s death. It was during that arc, after she had dealt with four postpartum depression, depression, the pain of the knowledge that her husband has abused her mentally, physically and sexually and the death of her 13 years old son that everything went downhill for her; yet some of you guys act surprised when she had a mental breakdown? Rei had been in a constant state of brainstorming since Natsuo’s birth, if not even earlier, until she didn’t broke down completely after Touya’s passing. So yeah, maybe she wasn’t the best mother for the Todoroki siblings, but ever since she gave birth to Touya, Rei has been trying her best to be there for them and at the same time preserve her sanity. Because in a situation where she had to deal with four kids and a manchild, someone had to try and keep a semblance of balance in there even if she was one of Endeavor’s victims who’s mental health was being destroyed by a lot.

As I already said, some of you guys in this fandom lack a great amount of emotional intelligence and dare I say most of you lack depth too. I don’t expect you guys to be the most empathetic peoples in the world, really, I don’t, but this is a tad bit too much. Do you guys even try to look beyond your own noses anymore? Or has that gone out of fashion?

Also, what’s this new trend of Victim Blaming peoples who came out of an abusive environment? That’s so… Ambiguous…

Anyways! All this didn’t end for good until the whole of Japan found out his son is a Villain and he waited to beg for forgiveness (something he should’ve done sooner), only when everyone has been caught into the hurricane and almost got offed entirely as a family, which is (if you ask me, since you in my inbox) the most unattractive thing a man of his big ass age could ever do.

Everyone, stay away from peoples who lack accountability and self-awareness, because they’re going to play your mental health like a fidget spinner bubs 🫶🏻💜

Last but not least: if you want to talk this way to me and especially about such topics that bad, don’t do it on Anonymous because I will hardly take you seriously.

All this being said and cleared out of the way, hope you have a good evening 💜

[themagicbrew]

i posted this comic back on my twitter around June. deciding to repost it here for multiple reasons (main one being the current state of twitter) this comic was posted onto the main by accident but it spoke to alot of people in ways i could never imagine, i want to honor that in some way.

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 5: Is your blood authentic?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 5: Is your blood authentic?

Wordcount: 6.1K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, depiction of suicide, self harm, blades

Description: You make plans to finally ship out, getting ever closer to your fate.

A/N: Hope you enjoy my work!

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

Simon has been absolving his distance a lot faster than you can handle.

He did as he promised, tries to go slow and from the beginning, yet the history between the two of you prevent you from feeling like it's a true beginning. It feels like you're both hiding from it, the looming truth over either of you. He doesn't fully know what happened, he doesn't know why your pen pal ship ended.

Even when it had begun it was tense, more distant than you wanted. Yet you clutched onto those letters from him like lifeline, no matter how much it burnt to read them over and over again, to whisper his words out in the night like a prayer.

You had wet those papers with your tears, crushed them, tore them and taped them back together. You had held those papers tightly in your hands, much like how you hold the files on the man you're meant to detain.

"We have to be discreet, if he senses something is up, he could get spooked and skip" Price proposes. He's holding a fat cigar between his lips; the smoke makes you dizzy. When he had originally been gracious enough to ask if it was alright, you had been enough of a sucker to nod your head.

Simon stood beside you in a rigid stance. He had said nothing either, so who were you to deny the captain his bread and butter.

"It's a small-time, close-knit community but new residents aren't foreign, tourists even less so. If we pose as one of them, stay low, don't attract attention nobody should suspect as anything other than another group of careless tourists." You offer up your idea to the room. You wish he would open a window.

Captain Price takes another long drag from his cigar; he keeps the smoke in for so long you think he might actually choke on it before he let's it go. "Hm, not a bad idea, gives us the advantage" his eyes flicker to Simon taking note of his careful gaze towards the scattered plans on the table.

"Ghost?"

You don't know when he turned this quiet. Even when you were kids, he was never the most talkative person in the class, but he was never this brooding. He's honed his focus a lot more over the years, you wish you could say the same for yourself.

You really wish the captain would open his window. Not only is the smoke starting to smell bad, but the smoke is already hazing the already dimly lit office. Meeting this late in the evening hadn't been your ideal choice, but the captain is a busy man as he said.

"If they find us out, we could be overrun quicker than we could defend ourselves" Simon speaks up after a moment of thought, "we have no idea how many they actually have."

"It's a risk we'll have to take if we're meant to make any progress," Price says while still holding clear consideration for the lieutenant’s proposed dilemma. Simon was objectively right, if the collective were to get aggressive it's likely they wouldn't be able to fend them off. Still death was an unlikely scenario, it wouldn't be their first resort.

He doesn't seem keen on the idea either way. "Even with Spider's intel it's a lot of uncertainty, what they have brought is extensive but...not much in the same lane," he glances towards you. His eyes say nothing but his gesture seems almost apologetic. You don't get why.

Most of the intel you brought on the cult was extensive but only scraped the tip of the iceberg. The things you once knew about the cult could have been changed, and most of the things you had on paper got burned when you went into hiding. All you had now was the few official documents that still counted, and your memory that often times don't serve you all that well.

"Spider?" Price asks confused. Your stomach drops. It hadn't even registered in your brain that he had used the nickname in front of a superior. "You two made up then," he smiles.

What.

"We're fine," Simon interjects before you can cast that bewildered glance you so desperately want to, "civil."

"Works for me," Price shrugs his beard creasing in a weird way when he adjusts his smile. "Spider could work for a good callsign, should you ever consider joining up with us again," he proposes. He is getting way ahead of himself.

"Unlikely..." you whisper quietly in response, the word concealed behind a heavy exhale. "We'll need to make our move soon. We don't actually know whether he will be in one town or the other, and if he is how long will he be."

"I'll clear it with Laswell and with any luck we ship out in the evening, there's no use delaying" Price concludes with a nod "can't waste our talents away here when we're needed out there."

Johnny hasn't felt this anxious in a long time. It borders excitement, but he wouldn't dare call it that openly. The promise of actual direction, the promise of being able to do something worthwhile, plus an interesting new recruit with them left him buzzing with newfound energy.

It has him pacing back and forth in his room, still with energy in his muscles even after Simon had dragged him to the gym in an attempt at tiring him out. "Would you calm down," Simon grumbles at him when he continues to pace back and forth.

The mental checklist in Johnny's head kept getting disordered. He had already packed what he needed for mission; it was an indefinite stay so the restrictions on what he could bring was more lax than usual. He doubted they would get much free time between the work they needed to conduct, but he'd be damned if he didn't put in some time to relax with his sketchbook.

There was a lot to keep focus on, a lot to keep track of and with his brain already focused on the wrong things it was difficult to not get into a frustrated confusion. "Johnny," Simon calls out when he doesn't stop.

He still doesn't answer, and keeps walking back and forth between the duffel bag in front of the bed and the dresser in the other side of the room. He needed to recheck his clothes. Did he have enough socks?

"Johnny."

He did have his pen, right? Extras. He should get extras if there was still space. Who knows how long they'd be staying, until they had something more concrete on the target mayhaps, more likely until there was a more finalized outcome on the whole thing.

"MacTavish..."

He really hoped it wouldn't surpass Christmas. His mother would be furious if he didn't make it home, it's been too long since he was able to see her and the rest of the family again, and despite Simon's apprehensions he knew they'd all want to see him too now that they've finally warmed up to each other.

"Hey! MacTavish, come help me."

Like a chord snapping in his brain, he spins on his heel to come plop down to his knees Infront of the bed where Simon has been sitting impatiently. "What is it," he huffs out looking up into his partners eyes. They had a way of being so expressive even behind the mask and the eye black, it had taken him a long time to learn to read them properly.

"Hold it," Simon hands off a small roll of support bandages into his hands. Johnny gives him an unimpressed look. Simon had been struggling with pains in his wrist, which was ironic as that was usually where he ended up himself with excessive drawing.

"Ye should really change it...get this one washed" he scrunches his nose up pretending there was a smell to get the dramatic effect across.

"I'll do it before we go," Simon mumbles and stretches out his wrist so it pops. His mask twists when, as Johnny assumes, he pulls his face into a grimace. "What's on your mind love," he mumbles out afterwards.

"All of it," Johnny huffs nursing the roll in his hands.

"Out of the ordinary?"

"Yeah, just everything about them," he thinks back to you, back to the meeting. You had been an antsy thing ever since he met you. He had chalked it up to you being shy, but later on he realized that wasn't exactly the case. You weren't as much shy as you were just anxious 99 percent of the time.

"Been getting along with them?" Simon reaches out to grab the roll from him again.

"Let me..." he mumbles reaching out to take a hold of Simon's wrist instead. He begins wrapping it around just like how he wants.

"Yeah, I have," he continues. "Ah think anyway..."

"They're difficult," Simon characterizes you rather nonchalant.

"They're new," Johnny corrects him, "they just need a little time, a little push. I still remember what you were like when I first met you, cold bastard"

"I remember you to be a pain my arse" Simon scoffs and turns over his hand so it's easier to wrap the rest of it.

"Still am sir" He answers cheekily.

He finishes the last wrap around his wrist, sealing it with the two little clasps. He watches as Simon retracts his hand, flexing it and almost stretching it too much before he could stop him. He had been there a few times himself; he knew how restrictive it felt, but any rest would do. It would be hard to get more rest for it when they deployed very soon.

"I like them," Johnny perks up again. "They can be charming in their own way; ah don't even have to drag them to lunch anymore they come willingly."

Simon snorts quietly in response, huffing out amused.

"Ah think yer little talk helped them calm down a bit, they seem more relaxed around me and Garrick too. Still tense but..eh...relaxed. Not so much of a laugh that one, but ah think they just need a bit more time, they have a funny side ah can feel it," he says with a light-hearted smirk.

"Lot of hope coming from you, taking a real liking to them then?" Simon asks, little crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes indicating the smirk beneath his mask.

"Can't tell me ye haven't? Used to like 'em something fierce didn't ye?" Johnny turns a suggestive look, one that is only reciprocated by a groan from his partner. He slowly rises off the floor and back to his feet, his knees starting to throb from the harsh wooden panels.

"That was a long time ago," Simon reaches out for him, puts his hands on his hips to pull him closer.

"But you did. They are a cute one, I definitely see the appeal" Johnny lifts a suggestive eyebrow. Though he somehow doubted it would happen, it wouldn't be the first time they had shared a person, it wouldn't be last if it turned out like it always did. For a brief moment he allowed himself to indulge in a pointless fantasy.

"Careful, Johnny. You don't know them like I do."

"Yeah, well ah seem to have a lot of luck with dark, gloomy, emotionally constipated bastards," he says with a smirk on his face. Simon's hands squeeze the meat on his thighs.

"I don't think they're interested in us like that. Don't got half a mind to know what they've been through; they seem very determined to get the job over and done with quick."

Johnny scoffs at that. He had always found it amusing how Simon couldn't see what was right in front of him. He was right that you weren't showing the same interest that Johnny was looking for, but the subtle attention you put into the details of your surroundings was noticeable.

"Ye have no idea how they look at ye then," Johnny blows air out through his nose, "got ways to go in warming up to myself but ye...ye already got them locked in."

"Easy." Simon says his hands traveling up to grab Johnny's wrists. It gets his attention, gets him to pause. "Just..." Simons clears his throat, "Just go easy on them, we don't know how they'd even feel about that. It's hardly professional, and they don't seem enticed in anything that isn't."

"Bit stuck up then?" Johnny mentions cheekily.

His smile drops when Simon gives him a look. "I'll go easy Simon, jus' jokin' around..." he turns his smile warmer, more welcoming to ease the looming anxiety that's no doubt building in his partners chest.

Johnny brings his hands to Simon's shoulders. They glide over them, squeezing at pressure points he knows gets his partner to relax. He trails his hands up, letting them hold the sides of his neck.

He doesn't miss the way Simon's breath hitches. He smiles at it, only satisfied when Simon finally allows himself to close his eyes and release the air in his lungs through a deep sigh. It wouldn't be the first time they would have invited a third into their bed, though he can see how this would be different for Simon.

He's typically not this worked up over a person. Then again this would be the closest Simon had to family that was still left, and he hadn't even been in contact for years. While he had originally meant the suggestion as a joke to lighten the mood, Simon hadn't exactly said no. It got further questions to stir in his mind, he would make sure to get answers one way or another eventually.

"At the end of the day it's jus' a mission like any other," Johnny reassures him, "with them or not."

Simon stirs, leans forward to bury his face in Johnny's stomach. It makes him feel mushy inside. "I'll tell you eventually...everything." Simon mumbles against him.

"I know..." he let's out a soft breath of relief, his arms moving to encircle around Simon's head instead. He leans down to place a kiss on his scalp. "Whenever ye're ready, we've done this before" he reassures him.

By nightfall it's reaching freezing temperatures. None of the clothes on your body is yours, and its warmth feels superficial. The plane is different than what you're used to, not so much packed to the teeth as what you'd have thought. Laswell was already having your new place of residence prepared with everything you needed.

You had always known her to be a resourceful woman. There wasn't much you could ask of her that she wouldn't be able to get you, the only real question was whether she wanted to or not.

Gaz took your bag from you, throwing it with the rest under a couple of seats. He had clearly stopped questioning your lack of belongings, though he seemed to find it no less weird.

"You got everything?" he asks looking you over as if you were supposed to be hiding something beneath your fuzzy jacket. You nod your head, finding no energy to offer him a verbal response.

The rest had already settled in, with their own things tucked neatly away. You didn't miss a lot about the military, but there was something to be said about the clean order enforced.

You walk past Simon and Soap, sparing them half a glance. Their hands are pressed against each other, a sorry attempt at making their affection subtle. You take a seat besides the captain. He's got a beanie on, tucked into a coat looking just as fuzzy as your own.

His eyes are closed, head tilted back, his hands folded neatly in his lap as if he were in a meeting. "You got a problem spider?" he asks amused, sensing your stare. Your chest heats up, your neck too from the sudden rush of blood.

You can't decide whether you dislike the new nickname or not. It sounds weird coming from his mouth; it sounds weird coming from anyone but Simon. It had been something intimate once, then it died along with some old memories, only to be reawakened on the wrong tongue.

"No sir."

You rip your eyes away from him, you could admire his beard from afar. The spiking pain you've been ignoring starts to come back through your nerves when you start to feel something warm and smooth trickle in your palm. Masking your hand with your other, you unwrap the chain from your wrist and pry the little crucifix from your skin. You wipe the fresh blood on your cargos, taking a moment let yourself linger on it.

You're getting closer to the source now, closer than you've been in a long time. There was little chance to back out now, but you knew you still wanted to. The only thing to carry you forward back into the den of wolves were the pure hatred you held for it. You could do little from afar, you needed to get in real close if you were to set it ablaze one last time.

You could already see it in your mind. Another system set on fire, coated in oil and with a single lighter flame, you could burn it all down like you were taught to. You could bring down the hellfire on the right person this time.

"Oh, are ye religious?" the feint Scottish accent pulls you out of your fiery thoughts. You clutch the chain back into the little wound you've created. It stings beautifully.

"No."

Liar, liar, liar.

You tuck it back around your neck, hiding it beneath the layers that feel foreign on your skin. It's heavier than normal.

The chain rests comfortably beneath the military slacks that was just one size too big. Your heart is all the way up in your throat, pounding furiously against your ribcage. You had been ignoring the nausea for the last 10 minutes, but one encouraging clap on your back from a teammate had you bucking over and heaving for air.

You could still hear his mocking laugh at the sight.

When you had finally agreed to join up, you had expected it to be hard but not this excruciating. You'd had at least 10 thoughts of quitting this morning alone. Though you couldn't deny there was a sense of community among your teammates, you also couldn't seem to penetrate the invisible barrier that kept you from being apart of that community.

The sun is blaring atop the blue sky making it hard to see. Sweat dripples down your forehead, you no longer know whether it's from the heat of the sun, or from the drills you've been running the entire morning.

Everybody here had their own layer of cruelty to them. It could loud and brash like the group on base that you always made sure to avoid, or it could be quieter more calculated. Ones you had fallen for more than once before learning your lesson. You tiptoed around it, making yourself just good enough to qualify without standing out terribly much.

"You alright?"

You raise your head to look at her. About the only person you could rely on even a little here. You had joined up around the same time, through the same unconventional way. She had taken notice of you first, practically pushed her way through the crowd to introduce herself to you specifically. The weirdness of it in general was still throwing you off till this day.

"Thanks, Emma...yeah I'll live" you accept her outstretched hand offering support despite not truly needing it. At least she had always been nice, never demanding.

She claps her hand over your back, letting out the sweetest sunshine giggle you've ever heard. It makes you want to barf, yet you can't help but love it all the same. A nice cooling gust of winds pass the two of you, and her hand shoots up in a protective manner for her hair. She was still seeming to struggle with her new hairstyle, long black hair wound up in the tightest bun known to man. How her scalp isn't hurting constantly you have no idea.

"Don't worry, lunch will be here soon, can get some nutrition into you- "

A loud whistle interrupts her and sets everyone into motion. She quickly grabs onto your arm to pull you over in the forming line. You do your best to bite back on the hiss of pain, when her thumb presses down on the bruise beneath your long sleeves.

You straighten your back after she has practically shoved you into formation, eager to have you do it right on time. Her own version of a kind gesture after you came last three times in a row, and got pointed out even more than that.

One of your superiors starts walking down the line with someone else awfully familiar. You keep your eyes straight whenever your superior looks your way, but you manage to catch a glimpse of who he is. The man who got you into the whole thing in the first place. You hold back the excitement in your chest.

He stands tall, a true leader, blonde hair sleeked back and an expression on his face that would send any recruit running. It makes you smile. You had a lot to learn from him, and he had promised to teach you.

Your eyes dart to a furry companion he had brought. A big dog, you think. It looks a little too big to just be a dog, a little too wild for you to trust it wouldn't bite. It walks perfectly in line with him, it's tail swaying slowly behind it. Its coat is beautiful if it wasn't for the giant red cross painted across its head and down it's muzzle.

It has something uneasy stirring in your stomach. You force your gaze back up, catching yourself staring at him, he's staring back. He nods towards you, and sends you a smile that makes your legs feel like jelly.

His office is pristine. Not a single thing out of place, not a speck of dust to be found. It didn't get used often. He was always out travelling between places of God knows where, doing things that was to prepare for His grand plan. Or so he said anyway.

"Come in," he calls on you, your name sweet on his lips like the beckoning echo of weeping angels. He'd finally show you the way, like he had promised in the graveyard turned to ash. His elbows rest on his desk, his chin prepped on top of his folded hands as he regards you with a cold gaze.

You advance without falter in your step, coming to a stop at a more respectable distance. The same overgrown dog was resting in a corner of the room. Its black eyes follow you your every movement, as if just waiting for the command to strike at you.

"I'm not going to waste your time with menial formality," he slides an open convolute across the table, yet it's still too far away to read the small text. A formal invitation he clearly doesn't expect you to actually read.

"You'll be finishing your basic training soon, and what will happen to you next will be decided." He takes a moment to watch your reaction, but you remain stoic, giving him a simple nod in confirmation. "I've made a couple of deals to have you transferred directly under my care for my own initiative. All I need is for you to...agree to it," his tone turns leading, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Ofcourse, I'll agre-"

He speaks your name sternly, cutting you off before you can go on your rant about how you were practically ready to devote your life to this thing, whatever it was.

"I need to know that you'll be in it, truly in it. This new project is unconventional to what you've previously been exposed to. It will test your patience, your willpower, your faith. Do you believe you have the strength for it? Do you believe your blood is authentic? and will you be ready to spill it for the cause being run in His name?"

You nod fast. Too fast.

"Good, I didn't expect anything else from you. You'll be finishing your training here, I believe there may be others among your rank that would be inclined to join our cause as well, I expect you to find them and lead them towards the path."

He looks at you with an unrivalled determination, a fire roaring loud and hot inside him to drive him towards his goal. His expression doesn't leave much room for question or doubt, and before you can even comprehend what you're agreeing to, you take the first real step in.

"Don't worry, I have someone in mind, sir."

It's a little cabin in the distance. Laswell hadn't promised anything luxurious, you were there on "vacation," but you apparently couldn't afford something proper closer to the town itself. Still the sorry thing that tips over in hill in the distance made you want to turn around and walk the 30 minutes back to the plane.

You knew it was going to be an uncomfortable few weeks, if the ache in your body had anything to say for it. You had already declared snow your new mortal enemy in the first ten minutes of walking through the forest and sinking into the ground with each step.

There had already been the expectation and the preparations for a colder climate, but you hadn't expected to have snow up to your midthigh in some areas. Luckily it didn't go that deep near the dedicated paths. Some of them must be irregularly cleaned for tourists.

You've been walking at an irregular pace yourself, getting continuously passed by the others until Simon fell into step with you a few minutes ago. He blends in with his surroundings uncannily, each step he takes is thought out, quieter than the rest. You don't doubt that he's made an impeccable soldier, back in your own prime he'd likely have been able to take you down with minimal struggle, if size was something to go off of.

The fatigue was already starting to enter your legs, your brain fighting hard to not give into any brain fog. You could only hope you wouldn't catch a cold from the drastic change in environment. Price shouts out something you don't quite hear, but you know what he wanted to say. You're finally here.

It looks a lot bigger when you're this close. A one story that makes itself look better than it is by raising its roof higher, giving the illusion of more space when none of it is utilized. Soap and Gaz are getting agitated the more Price struggles with the keys.

Simon comes to a stop a few steps behind you. He's always back there, trekking behind everyone else. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you a little antsy. Price utters a loud curse you haven't heard before when he finally gets the door to budge open.

The five of you seem to have pretty much the same idea of immediately throwing the heavy bags in a big pile on the floor. The fire is already going. Whoever you were renting this from atleast knew a little about hospitality.

"Finally," Gaz groans, stretching out his arms till they give off a nasty pop, going to do the same with his neck.

Soap is the first to go on a little exploration adventure through the living room you stepped into, the open kitchen at the end, and the smaller hallway connected to them both. You had been right, not as big as mistakenly advertised.

"Aye...no food though, going to have to do some shopping asap!" Soap shouts from the kitchen followed by a louder bang, likely having been the fridge door.

You internally thank yourself for packing an extra lunch you could eat as breakfast the morning after, should your stomach allow it.

"Really, this the best Laswell could scrounge up?" Gaz says frustratedly, "I saw at least four better options on the way to this isolated thing."

"Be grateful you get a roof over your head sergeant, it'll do" Price responds in a tone no less frustrated. He didn't seem to be any happier with the place than his subordinate. You couldn't really put fault on either of them, it was far from stellar only the necessities to remain inconspicuous. 

Simon acquires the keys from Price, promptly doing his own little surveillance to make sure all the doors and windows had proper locks on them, and that they were in fact locked. You weren't the only one skittish about this place.

"Alright round up everyone, for tonight you are ordered to rest. It's been a long day, I know some of you are weary from the flight," he gives you a pointed look that feels almost accusatory. Soap walks back to little circle you had unintentionally formed, dragging Simon with him by his sleeve on his way.

"We don't have a lot of space to deal with so, Garrick and I will be the taking the smaller room at the end of the hall, Ghost, Soap and Spider can share the bigger one, figure out sleeping arrangements amongst yourselves."

"Only two beds, shouldn't be a problem for you two to share" Gaz says in a joking tone, putting a hand on Soap's shoulder that gets almost immediately shaken off. You keep your eyes to the ground. It wasn't any of your business. You fear they take notice.

"You're grown adults, I expect you to be able to figure it out," Price says already laying the ground rules of don't disturb him today. "I will be turning in, I suggest you all do the same, the real work starts tomorrow."

"Yeah yeah" Simon grumbles in a lower voice than normal, putting a firm hand on Soap's back to steer him away from the conversation before it drags out. Wordlessly you follow them down the hall, keeping a greater distance, at least as much as the narrow way would allow.

"Better not be cramped" Soap grumbles turning the handle and using more force than necessary on the door. It was his lucky day. The room was a lot more spacious than you had imagine it to be, it almost makes you feel bad for the captain and the other sergeant that they didn't opt for this one.

Two beds, two dressers, a big mirror on top of one of them and large windows at the end of the room looking onto the snowy mountains. It was better than you'd had in over a year, you had little to complain about.

Mountains. The mountains. The idea strikes you like a quiet zap of electricity. If the cave systems were still accessible it would be a viable place to investigate. If you knew the cult well, and you did, they were likely going to put the old pathways to use again.

Soap says something you don't catch as he walks over and claims one of the beds for him and Simon. You walk and claim the other one by placing your duffel on top of it. It was going to be weird sleeping next to them, or opposite of them. You could only pray that you wouldn't be visibly weird about it

"Ah guess It won't be so bad," Soap let's out a relieved sigh, finally able to dispose of some of the heavier gear and clothes that kept him warm.

"As Price said, it'll do" Simon agrees with a quiet hum and nod of his head.

Soap starts to roam around the room, opening the closet doors, moving the curtains around, stifling his curiosity the practical way. "Well should do, we have enough space, plenty of closet space for each of us, a damn good scenery out the window, can almost excuse it for a small vacation."

"Going to be far from a vacation this," you chuckle quietly, slightly enthused by his own newfound excitement over your living space.

"We should keep the curtains closed; we're exposed like this" Simon ever so practical walks over tugging on the curtains. He leaves it halfway open to let some light in while the sun was still up. It wouldn't be long before it would descend again and cloak the woods in a thick darkness.

"What do ye reckon is in there?" Soap gestures towards the door behind you. He walks a little close as you turn around to inspect it yourself. You hadn't even noticed it when you first claimed your bed. It's awfully close too, perhaps you could move your bed a bit further away from it so it wouldn't bother you if anyone should go in there, or out of there.

"Don't know...more closet space?" it's meant as a joke but turned away from them you can't see their reactions. You place your hand on the handle. It's ice cold. Your eyebrow furrows. The rest of the room had been comfortably warm, not even chilly despite the icy temperatures outside.

You open the door towards you to take a look inside. You feel your blood run cold. Your body freezing in place. Your hand gripping the handle impossibly tighter.

It's a bathroom. Ugly tile floor, small toilet to the right, sink next to it, shower right in front. You could almost have missed the blood from how well it mixes in with the orange tiles. But it's hard to ignore the body.

Her dead eyes are staring you down. Her last accusatory yet sad words are still on her lips unspoken. Her body is still wet from the water, the blood pooling from her arm mixing in with the water on the floor too. Her naked body is still littered with scars from head to toe. Though the cut going from wrist down her forearm hadn't been meant to add to the collection.

It had been final.

Intentional.

You can feel the glint of metal in the corner of your eyes. You don't need to look down to your feet to know that the blade is there. You can feel the blood coating your own arms, tainting the door handle with your sin.

Do you feel it yet? The pressure?

The shadows pool around her, grasping at her skin, pulling at her flesh.

They'll know. They'll dig dig dig. They'll cast you out to the wolves.

You don't know what she wants with you now, what she wanted with you then. You can't remember, your brain a vast empty space, a mere echo of who she was. There's a chill in your bones, something lost and angry, wanting you to know and answer. You still haven't answered it.

You try to remember her name, her significance to you. A misplaced droplet of blood runs down her forehead. The red complimented her complexion well. It had been her favourite colour.

"Hey.....hey....you okay?" his voice is muffled, far away, in a different reality from yours. He's going to reach you eventually, they all are. They'll see it all eventually, they'll figure it out, distrust you for it, abandon you, punish you.

Soap places his hand on your shoulders and your reflexes fire like a gun. You grab his wrist hard, looking at him with an angered look that only lasts a second before you tuck far away. His eyes widen, guilty entering his features as he removes his hand and puts them up in defeat.

"Woaah, sorry didn't mean to scare ye," he starts off in a gentling tone "ye weren't answering, it's just a bathroom, right?"

"Oh fuck...yeah...I zoned out" you excuse it moving a few steps back. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look back into the bathroom. Orange tile, toilet, sink, shower. She's gone. Soap nods looking in himself, to your luck he seems to let your weird reaction go, yet you can still feel Simon's stare in the back of your neck. You don't turn around to meet it.

You bite your lip, keeping your eyes on the bathroom as if she would appear again. You almost wish that she would, because you know who she is, who she was to you. You've always known, as if you could ever forget it.

Her name had been Emma, and she was the first to die.

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[terminallyspookystudenteagle]

REMINDER THAT ALEX "YANDEREDEV" MAHAN GROOMED A 16-YEAR OLD GIRL, INTIMIDATED HER INTO SILENCE, AND COPYRIGHT CLAIMED AN EXPOSÉ OF HIS ACTIONS. (WE GOT CONFIRMATION THAT ALEX DID SO USING HIS VICTIM'S NAME)

THIS IS AN ARCHIVED LINK OF THE EXPOSÉ. THIS IS HERE FOR YOU TO SEE DUE TO THE STREISAND EFFECT; BECAUSE ALEX MAHAN DOESN'T WANT YOU TO SEE IT.

DO NOT SUPPORT YANDERE SIMULATOR. DO NOT SUPPORT YANDEREDEV.

IF YOU ARE A MINOR IN THE FANDOM, GET OUT NOW WHEN YOU HAVE THE CHANCE BEFORE HE PREYS UPON YOU NEXT.

IF YOU ARE AN ADULT IN THE FANDOM, CONDEMN ALEX MAHAN FOR HIS VILE ACTIONS AND CUT ALL SUPPORT TO HIM.

IF YOU STILL SUPPORT HIM DESPITE THIS DAMNING EVIDENCE, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED FOR AIDING AND ABETTING HIM.

[smalldicksantiago]

louis: I'M THE VAMPIRE ARMAND AND MY DADDY VAMPIRE GROOMED ME INTO A LITTLE BITCH!!!

also louis: meet the love of my life

[poppy-metal]

[ literally u dont have to write a single thought for this if u want i js want someone to match my freak BUT ]

stepdaddy art and dbf patrick trailing you to a club one night? its phase one in patrick teaching art his precious baby girl breaks a few rules - which art already knows, but he didn't realise exactly how until they follow you out. you, shining bright and brilliant amongst all your friends, radiant as the sun, alight with fire. its fire, too, like how patrick was, that sharp knack for commanding a room whenever you walk into it, demanding to be given what you want. but in a softer way than patrick did. sweeter, a more girlish light. the way art is: charming, bright, sunny. kind. you, in your little skirt - when a motorcycle blows by it flies up, and they catch a quick glimpse of the cutest little lacy panties - and your tight top, miles of legs and chest and skin. bare.

you, giggling and clearly tipsy, if not straight up drunk, flirting your way past the bouncer with your friends. they follow you in, slide the bouncer a few crisp twenties for his cooperation, and watch. watch you dancing, laughing, all hips and arms and shiny hair as you twirl with your friends, and fuck, its mildly reminiscent of another girl they liked a lifetime ago, watching another girl on the dance floor, waiting for the right moment to jump in and play for her number. hypnotic.

and they watch you. flirting your way into a round of shots for you and your friends. dancing right in the middle of the throng of people. arts pleased to see you turn down any guy that approaches you - "its girls night," you giggle - and patrick has to actually fight back a cheer when your heel stomps on a particularly pushy guy's foot. you're here to have fun, to dance. but you're drunk, and needy, and the guy you do end up making out with has patricks roguish grin and arts soft blond curls, but your hazy mind barely even registers this connection, and all patrick and art see is some douchebag with his hands on their girl. the executive decision is made not to interfere, if only because art knows you'd hate him for it. so they fume until you him away to go back to your friends, and they fume the whole ride home, and they fune when you text saying you're sleeping over with alyssa - who the fuck is alyssa?! - to study, and they fume until they fuck, arts face buried in your sugary-vanilla pillows, patrick wrapping a pair of your panties around arts dick, taking advantage of the fact that art cant really see, but he can hear, hears it when patrick asks him if it "feels good, huh? you want to cum all over her panties? yeah? go on, donaldson, you always were a perv, yeah, cum all over your baby girl's panties-" and art does, whining, sobbing, begging. they both pretend they're cumming in you, even though neither will admit it - art into your panties, patrick into arts ass.

you dont notice, when you return the next morning, that someone changed your sheets. you certainly don't notice the missing panties. art hates himself for it - vows it will never happen again. it will.

-kit (slowly going insane over this au)

I'm going to kill myself, truly im at my limit - @gamesetart

in my head - you and art dont know about eachother yet - its just kink talk, at the moment. he's not sure how either of you'd react - you're so possessive and needy of him. jealous so easily - and art. he's still pretty sure art will beat him bloody when he finds out patricks touched you at all - regardless of what he allows to be talked about in bed.

its just show art that you're grown up - to get art to stop seeing you as someone who needs protecting - look at her, art, she knows how to handle herself, she knows how to use her body and dance and work the men around her - she's not helpless and defenseless anymore.

art sees you differently after that night. he already had a hard time looking you in the eye after that night when he'd imagined you - he just realizes you' dont need him to shield you from anything. not anymore. and he..... doesn't like it. can hardly stomach it - who is he, if he can't be needed? its what hes revolved his life around - around you - around you needing him. you needed him when you were younger and your own mother didn't want you but he did and he was there for you and he took you in and you needed him growing up and you needed him for so many things you needed him to watch scary movies with you because they made you jump you needed him to tie your hair for you for school you needed him to buy you pads and tampons when you ran out you needed him to cook you food and be a safe place to come home to you needed him to teach you how to drive you needed him to pick you up from your friends house you needed him you needed him you needed him you needed him you needed him. you needed him.

and now you dont.

you're all grown up and you dont need him.

does he even know you anymore? will he get to know this new person you're becoming? does he want to not be needed by you?

no, he doesn't want that.

and its all he can think about on the drive home and later when patrick fucks him in your bed and he doesn't even fight it this time - just moans like a fucking whore when patrick wraps your panties around his cock and closes his eyes and thinks about you needing him. in a different way. in a new way.

you needed a dad for so long - you made him be that for you - he can be more - he can be anything - as long as you keep needing him - as long as you dont stop -

"god, dont stop -" its a plea - one patrick grants, wrapping the cotton more tightly around his cock, fitting his balls through the opening and rubbing the fabric into his shaft - fuck - "I'm gonna cum -"

"yeah -" patrick groans. he's fucking art so hard - like he's trying to punch art through your bed, the headboard is rattling against the wall, your stuffed animals falling from the bed. "fill her fuckin panties art - she's been so bad, huh? past her curfew and she's flauntin herself to older men - keeping her old man waiting up worryin' about her - while she's out being a slut - "

if it was any other situation art would knock his teeth out for talking about you that way. at the moment he can't, hes too amped up, hips bucking wildly, he reaches down to grip his own dick - shove it down so his head it rubbing into the patch of your panties where your cunt would rest - rubbing rubbing rubbing as his toes fucking curl in your sheets - "oh fuck -" he grunts, tenses -

when he cums - it shudders through his whole body. hole clenching, strangling patricks dick as his balls empty into your panties- stretching the fabric out lewdly around his cock -

"good boy - if she's gonna be a whore under your roof the least she can do is milk your cock - "

art whines. pulses out more cum weakly. thinks hes going to hell and that hes glad you'll never find out about this. you'll never know. you'll leave and you wont need him anymore and he just needs this to cope - that's all.

[ticklemerainbows]

TW: INCEST, GROOMING, RACISM

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Hey friends. Ya'll that know me know that I don't ever post about drama or things going on in the simblr community but I thought this one was worth talking about. I'm not going to tag the account but the simblr is @/gittessimsadventuresog.

Gitte has talked numerous times about intentional incest, grooming and racism in their games in a discord server I'm in, and when confronted about it tried to play the "i was young/a teen at the time card" after blatantly being proud of the fact before being called out. We thought she was joking at first (because who wouldn't?) but very quickly realized she was 100% serious in the way she plays her game. Which, everyone plays in a different way but like...ew?

After being rightfully kicked from the server because of it proceeded to go into other servers trying to play the victim without giving all the details as to why they were blocked and kicked.

I've noticed that several of ya'll associate with Gitte, and this is in no way trying to dictate or tell anyone who they should be friends with, but I thought it right to throw the information out there so you guys can be informed and make your own decisions.

These are just a handful of screenshots but there are quite a few more if this isn't enough.

*names hidden for anonymity.

[tellmeallaboutit]

you’re the only Raphael writer I could ask this question 👀

do you think Raphael was referring to more than just her soul in that one Mol line? 👀

Hi! You mean the blushing apple one, right?

Everything below is IMHO of course.

No, I don’t think Raphael meant this line sexually. He was actually referring to Mol’s potential and soul.

However, I do think that the writer of this line did intend it to have a sexual undertone (not actually implying this has happened, just on a meta layer). This is likely a remnant from the original storyline where the player could bed Raphael in Sharess Caress and he could remove the tadpole from Tav's brain.

From a meta narrative perspective then, this line would have been a huge hint. Sure, Raphael meant Mol’s soul, but it was written in a way that would make you think of very bad things for a reason. It's a metaphor so to say.

In the final version of the game, it does sound odd because there’s a very tangible rift between Act 1 / Act 2 and Act 3 Raphael due to (as far as I know) a lot of last-minute writing and re-hashing.

This line is one of his many aggressive and sexually charged lines that either got cut or were left out but now seem a bit odd because he never even attempts to actually get the player to bed for all the drawn out "seduction" metaphor (and drops all flirt when he LITERALLY stands in the brothel).

TL:DR. No, Raphael didn't do anything of the sort to Mol. The line was written in a way that the player would be made to think of something else, yes.

[justaneedle]

The part of the people in the fandom that just doesn't understand the difference between manipulation and grooming is killing me. They describe only manipulation, but because of the age difference they call it grooming?

I'm really not sure how much I want to block them. Especially if they don't really demonize Luke in any other way.

Sweeties, just remember that grooming is a sexual manipulation aimed at obtaining sexual satisfaction. And nothing else.

What you call this word is called ordinary manipulation. No, age gap is not excuse to throwing this word.

I beg you – incorrect using terms is extremely harmful.