#cw discussion of grooming

[iamnmbr3]

honestly why did jkr choose DUMBLEDORE as arbitrary gay 'rep'. Besides the not even there stuff he is an awful person.

(And you could pretty easily read him as that sort of Creep. Like I know that's not the sort of grooming people mean but that's always what I think :( )

I know. She really went 'diversity win! the serial liar and manipulator of children who is weirdly fixated on the attractiveness of an 11 year old is gay!'

Now I am absolutely NOT saying that a gay character cannot be flawed or even downright evil. Being gay doesn't make someone inherently bad - or inherently good. Gay people are humans - and just like any other group of humans are capable of the full range of human complexity. However, when the ONLY gay character is like this it feels like their negative personality traits are tied to their gayness. (Just like if Dumbledore was the only straight character it might feel like the author was was casting aspersions on the morality of straight people - even if that wasn't her intent).

Also it's so weird because there were so many other characters that are very frequently read as queer - including Tonks, Lupin, Draco, and Sirius. Not to mention HARRY POTTER himself. But nope. JKR was extremely resistant to anyone even suggesting these characters might not be straight (lol joke's on her - she might not have meant to write these characters as not straight but she did. be mad about it jkr). Only the character who had one queer romance which was extremely destructive and then swore himself to a life of celibacy where he spends all his time manipulated children is allowed to be gay apparently. smh.

And yeah. As for Dumbledore coming across kinda creepy, I definitely think it wasn't JKR's intention but it is a very valid reading based on what she wrote. I mean Dumbledore literally is out there saying 'oh yeah one of the only reasons adults liked this 11 year old child was because he was hot' without any awareness of how incredibly messed up a thing that is to say.

Like if that's something he's comfortable admitting publicly what thoughts doesn't he admit to? This is just an incredibly bizarre thing to say and really says a lot about how he perceives the world.

Why does he assume that all adult teachers pay attention to how attractive the children they are responsible for are? Why does he assume that teachers' treatment of their UNDERAGE STUDENTS is affected by attractive they find each child? That is not how an adult should ever be relating to or thinking about a child.

And it's specifically attractiveness he highlights - not cuteness or charm or literally anything even slightly more appropriate to favor a child for (even though it would still be wrong to favor a student). No. It's the same way he talks about Tom later. He suggests that Tom used his looks in some sort of evil seductor routine to victimize Hepzibah Smith - even though what we actually see is HER creeping on Tom, so it comes across very much as a "he was asking for it" and "he was to blame because he was being a temptation simply by existing" type perspective which is absolutely repellent. And seemingly Dumbledore was thinking about Tom in that way right from the beginning.

In addition, I will say it's notable that in the Hepzibah Smith memory Dumbledore seems to sympathize with the person who is acting as a predator. (I mean she literally touches Tom without his consent and tries to hit on him multiple times while he tries to change the subject and seems super uncomfortable; she is the aggressor in that interaction).

It's also notable that Dumbledore seems to take Tom rejection of him at their first meeting very personally which is odd. Tom's reaction to Dumbledore is not that surprising but Albus seems to take great offense at the fact that Tom does not trust or look up to or like him and does not want to spend time with him or accept his friendship. It's a rather unusual way for an adult to react.

And more generally he doesn't treat children as children. He talks about child!Tom the same as he does adult!Tom and doesn't seem to view him as ever having been fundamentally different. He happily sends Harry and his friends into danger.

He also has a nasty habit of reading people's minds without their consent. I don't think it's a coincidence that nothing about the topic of Occlumency is taught at Hogwarts. It seems that he's been frequently reading the minds of the Golden Trio (and probably other students) for years - probably since book 1; and the mind is a very intimate and scared part of a person that shouldn't just be violated. Characters having a blank or closed look is often used as a descriptor to suggest that that character is employing Occlumency. We know Tom's mind powers were quite developed and I think he successfully blocked Dumbledore from his mind during their first encounter (after Dumbledore read his mind to find out about the things he stole) as right after that scene he is described in similar ways to scenes where characters use Occlumency. And this denial and rejection may been part of what particularly irritated Dumbledore.

His interactions with kids - and especially his fixation on Tom - are very weird. And you could definitely read it as him having some sort of repressed (or not repressed) attraction/fixation that he's probably in denial about (or does mental gymnastics to justify). 100 percent not JKR's intent. But yeah. The way she wrote him is kinda off.

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 9: I Shouldn’t Take Advantage

Here it comes!

~2220 words

CW: alcohol, discussion of grooming, trafficking; dubcon kiss

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

Simon was distant with them the rest of the day. Matthew had expected him to be cold, or even outright angry, but instead the few times Simon emerged from his room he appeared lost in thought. He did engage a little more when Amber stopped by to see him. She apologized profusely, and he repeated what he’d said to Matthew the night before: Finch would have killed you. It’s better this way. Matthew found himself thinking Simon could’ve been at least a little bit mad at her - there was a reason he’d never replied to her texts - but he didn’t interfere. All in all, Gina and Matthew kept their interactions with him limited to ensuring he ate, stayed hydrated, and was experiencing no worrying symptoms. Simon insisted on changing his own bandages, which Matthew didn’t take as a good sign.

Matthew worried himself to sleep that night. He took the cot, to give Gina a break. He felt like he had made so much progress with Simon, and now it was all undone. He’d made Simon laugh, for crying out loud - twice! They’d been making baby steps towards Simon telling Matthew more about himself, first the stuff with Isles, then the tidbit about the bleach and the nightmares. Now it could all be ruined.

Matthew was stress-dreaming about Simon kicking them out of the apartment entirely when he was shaken awake.

“Hey! Hey!” 

Matthew pushed himself up on one elbow and forced his bleary eyes to focus in the faint glow of the night light. Simon was crouched next to the cot, staring at him with wide dark eyes.

“Wha’s wrong?” Matthew mumbled, “Nightmare?”

“Get up,” Simon whispered, “Come with me.” He tugged on Matthew’s arm. It was unusually forward for him.

Matthew sat up, moving quietly to avoid waking Gina.

“What’s going on?”

“Come onnn!” Simon wrapped both hands around Matthew’s bicep and pulled. This close to him, Matthew caught a whiff of alcohol. He jumped to his feet, and had to catch Simon by his shoulders to keep him from falling backwards.

“Are you drunk?!” Matthew hissed.

Simon wiggled away from him.

“Jus’ come with me!” he loudly whispered, wobbling around the TV into the hallway.

Matthew frantically looked back and forth between him and Gina - still sound asleep - before feeling like he had no choice but to follow.

If this was what he thought it was, this wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen.

He followed Simon into the bedroom. Simon opened the door like a valet, shooing Matthew through and closing it behind them. Then he bounded over to the bed and jumped on, sitting cross-legged on the rumpled bedspread (long since cleaned and returned to its place). He patted the bed in front of him, indicating Matthew should sit as well.

It looked like this wasn’t what Matthew thought it was - but that didn’t mean he knew what was happening. He hesitantly climbed onto the bed and mirrored Simon.

“Simon, what -”

“Shh!” Simon lifted a hand, “Don’t talk.” They weren’t whispering anymore, but they still kept their voices low.

“Okay…?”

“I said don’t talk!”

Matthew nodded mutely. Simon looked down at his hands, knitting them together and twisting them as he searched for his next words.

“I wanna tell you everything,” Simon said at last. Matthew opened his mouth but closed it again, letting Simon continue.

“I like you. I decided I trust you. You already know half of it. And you can tell Gina whatever you want, that’s fine, but nobody else. Jus’ you. I just want it over with. I’m sorry I couldn’t… I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sober.”

Matthew couldn’t help himself any longer.

“Alcohol’s a blood thinner,” he warned, “With your concussion…”

“I know!” Simon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, “I know, I know… Please, just listen to me.”

Matthew took a breath, but nodded.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

Simon slowly lowered his hands from his eyes and stared at them in his lap.

Then he began. He spoke at first as if he were reciting a memorized list, slightly slurring his words.

“My parents died in a car accident when I was nine. I grew up in foster care. No one was mean to me, but I was mean to them. So when I turned eighteen I was alone. I failed my s-senior year. I had to go to a summer program. Lara was a volunteer there.”

“Lara… Everett?” Matthew breathed.

Simon nodded quickly, still not looking at Matthew.

“I should have known. That something was wrong. She talked to everyone about their families, the friends, and she… zeroed in on me as soon as she found out I had none. I should have known something was wrong, from the way she got all interested when she realized I was alone, or the way she got… excited when I told her my mom’s family was from Brazil. But she was grown-up, and beautiful, and rich, and she said everything that a teenage boy would want to hear.” Simon shifted uncomfortably, a hand going to his ribs. His voice grew strained.

“I tried to finish my senior year, I really did. But I was living in a group home and I hated it, I hated it. She kept saying I should drop out of school and move - move in with her, so I did. Right after I turned nineteen.” He was breathing harder now.

“A while after I moved in she told me her family’s business had failed, that we were going to run out of money, and be home - homeless,” he gulped down air, “It was all a lie, I figured that out after a while, but she convinced me that we needed to make money, fast, and that selling my blood was the best way. She was like, anemic, so it couldn’t be her, she said. And I really loved, I really loved her a lot,” Simon’s voice broke, and he pressed his hands to his eyes again, “So I said yes, and it started with blood draws, but then she said we’d make so much more money if they could feed - feed from me directly, and then we’d make so much more if they could do… Other stuff. With me.”

He froze for a little while, hands on his face, just breathing. Matthew watched him, rapt and wide-eyed. When Simon spoke again, his voice was a whisper.

“It just kept getting worse. But I really loved her. And then…”

His hands dropped back to his lap, twisting together again in painful-looking contortions.

“There was this one vampire,” Simon said faintly, “And it was really… awful. And she promised me I’d never have to do that again. Then later she said he was… coming back. And I couldn’t do it,” his voice faded to barely audible, “So I - I killed her.”

Simon finally sobbed, tension falling from his shoulders. But he soldiered on, his voice wet.

“I called the police on myself, because I thought I would go to jail for it. I didn’t know any better. But then Christian was there, and he took care of me, and they tried to put me in victim protection, but every plan they offered I told them exactly why it wouldn’t work, until Christian was like, ‘Damn! You know your stuff!’” Simon laughed through his tears, “So now, now I work here. But I can’t leave, not ever. Not ever.”

Simon wiped his hands across his teary face, forcing himself to breath slowly. Matthew gave him a moment to collect himself before speaking.

“You were never a field agent?”

“N-no.”

“Did you even go through any training?”

“Not - not really.” Simon tucked his chin down further, embarrassed.

No wonder Isles said their team was an experiment. Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

“So you really can’t leave? What about if all the vampires are captured? Couldn’t that happen?”

Simon stilled. He finally looked up at Matthew.

“Some of them are too powerful for the VIU.”

“How’s that possible?” Matthew asked, “We bring in grade As all the time.”

“It’s not just about the grade - I mean it can be, but…” Simon pressed a hand to his bandaged temple and sleepily fumbled through an explanation. “Y’know how some vampires form families? Some take it further, some form compounds, too strong for the VIU to break up. Dozens of vampires, protecting each other. They keep humans captive, instead of killing to feed, so their body count’s lower. That’s how the VIU justifies leaving them alone.”

“So…” Matthew put the pieces together, “The way the VIU operates right now, some of the vampires that hurt you will never be captured.”

Simon nodded, lifting his tear-streaked face to look at the ceiling.

“I’m gonna be down here forever.”

The words hung between them in the air. Matthew felt like he was unable to absorb half of what Simon had told him. He rubbed his face, and found himself a bit teary-eyed. He looked at the clock on the bedside table, which was surrounded by empty beer cans: 1:53 AM.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked.

“No. I was working up the nerve to talk to you.” Following Matthew’s gaze, Simon plucked up a beer can and gave it an appraising shake. Liquid sloshed within. He started to lift it to his lips, but Matthew snatched it away.

“No more of that,” Matthew ordered, “Get some sleep. We can talk more about everything in the morning.”

“Wait, can you stay with me?” Simon asked, suddenly awake and wide-eyed.

“Like… Here, in your room?” Matthew asked hesitantly.

“Yes! Please, I don’t -” Simon shook his head breathlessly, “I don’t want to be alone, I know I’m going to freak out if I’m alone, after digging all that up.”

“I guess I could sleep on the floor?” Matthew slowly suggested, watching Simon carefully.

“No, I mean, I want…” Simon’s hands flitted together in front of him for a moment before he reached out and touched Matthew’s knee. “Please stay with me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” Matthew started.

“Please stay with me!” Simon burst out, “I can’t be alone after that, please, please don’t go!”

Matthew froze.

“Uhh…”

“Please,” Simon started sobbing, the tears flowing again and his words melding together, “I don’t wanna be alone down here anymore, I want you to stay -”

He cut himself off by leaning forward and crashing his lips into Matthew’s, his hands grabbing at Matthew’s shirt. Matthew kissed back for the briefest moment before catching himself and pulling away.

“Simon, I can’t, you’re drunk -”

“I don’t care!” Simon cried, “Please don’t leave me, please!”

Matthew detached Simon’s hands from his shirt as gently as he could.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said firmly, “Would that be okay?”

“No, I need you to…” Simon grabbed Matthew’s waistband, “I need you, I’ll do whatever you want.” His eyes sought out Matthew’s desperately, wide and tearful, “I know you want me, I know-”

“No,” Matthew moved Simon’s hand away again, avoiding his gaze, “I’m not doing that. I’ll be right back.”

Matthew quickly got off the bed, gathered up the rest of the empty cans, and left, while Simon doubled over on the bed and wept. He found the lights in the main room were on, and Gina stood by the light switch.

“What the fuck is going on?” she demanded.

“Uhh…” Matthew glanced over his shoulder towards the sounds of crying, then back at her.

“He told me everything. Now he’s not doing so good. Plus…” he hefted the cans in his arms.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Matthew dumped the cans into the sink with a clatter, “I’m going to sleep in there on the floor.”

He went to the cot and rolled up his sheets and blankets along with the thin mattress.

“Okay,” Gina said, “Just be… mindful.”

It was odd phrasing, but Matthew understood what she was driving at.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he assured her, “I won’t let it.”

She pressed her knuckles to her mouth.

“Okay,” she murmured, and watched him carry his bedroll and pillow back to the bedroom.

Simon was a silent lump under the covers when Matthew returned. Matthew wasn’t sure whether Simon was asleep already or just ignoring him, but he said “I’m here,” anyway. He unrolled the burrito of bedding onto the floor and dropped the pillow into place. Still receiving no response from Simon, he laid down and pulled up the covers.

The bright lights blared down, making it hard to keep his eyes closed. All this new information was like a tornado passing through his brain, uprooting long-held assumptions and delivering strange, new discoveries. Simon wasn’t a young prodigy; he’d never finished highschool, much less got a bachelor’s and gone through academy training. He didn’t have a few vampires with a grudge after him, he had over two dozen that were utterly obsessed. He wasn’t a cool-headed expert with a storied past, he was a victim. A tragedy. A blubbering mess. Even sober, hooking up with him would be unethical, wouldn’t it?

Matthew cursed himself for thinking about relationship potential at a time like this.

Besides, knowing what he knew now, and as much as he wished there was, clearly there wasn’t any.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy @pigeonwhumps @sunshiline-writes @seasaltandcopper

[the-thirteenth-prime]

A slightly unhinged ramble-rant on Chairman Rose and how people are missing the entire point of SWSH.

Like, I keep seeing it pop up--like a fucking rank smell you only detect if you’re in a certain place when the wind is blowing in the certain direction--but man does it not bewilder me. Like, these guys who post tags like ‘Chairman Rose is a bad guy but is not a BAD guy’ or ‘I kind of agreed with Chairman Rose’ are just. Are you high?? Did you entirely miss the point of his character?? Did you completely miss the main plot of SWSH?

I’m going to be talking about some heavy shit (including non-sexual child grooming and non-sexual child predation), so I’m gonna put the rest under a read more, let me just say that the theme of SWSH is the relationship between adults and children on their Pokemon journeys, the responsibilities adults have towards children, and what happens when that relationship is abused.

First off, before I get some know-it-all coming at me about how there’s no evidence that Rose is a child predator or a groomer, let me just say there is. Is he a Chris Hansen ‘take a seat for me’ groomer?? No, he’s not, because child grooming is not purely a sexual thing.

Per a very informative article:

“Grooming can be sexual, romantic, financial or for criminal or terrorism purposes, and can target both children and adults. The common aspect is that a perpetrator manipulates a victim by building trust and rapport. The key to grooming is a power dynamic within the relationship: age, gender, physical strength, economic status or another factor.”

Now, with that out of the way, I’m not going to go into shit that’s super obvious to anyone with eyes, but Rose is a serial child groomer. Like, his most obvious victim is Leon, and it’s really wild that people can’t see it?? Like, Leon obviously comes from a fucked-up home situation with a mother who’s absent and neglectful at best (and the people who don’t seem to realize this REALLY confuse me). Like, he has canonically raised his little brother in a house with three adults that could have done the job for him, and the anime literally stated that he was so busy raising Hop and taking care of household chores that he could barely interact with other kids. He was endorsed by Chairman Rose at an age that is implied to be at least two years younger than the average Gym Challenger, and--per the sub of the PokeAni--Rose literally raised him from the moment he became Champion.

(Where was Leon and Hop’s mother during this, you ask? Obviously being terrible at home, since despite Leon being run ragged for all of his life and rarely being home, he still somehow raised his little brother. Let that sink in.)

So Leon has spent his entire life being moulded into Rose’s delusion of the Hero of Galar for the sole purpose of sacrificing himself to defeat Eternatus to stave off an energy crisis that will happen in a millennium and probably would be averted with solar power. THE SUB IN THE POKEANI LITEARLLY HAS ROSE TELLING LEON THAT HE HAS GROOMED HIM FOR THE EXACT PURPOSE OF TAMING ETERNATUS. I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP. I WILL PROVIDE SCREENSHOTS IF ASKED.

Does he know Leon may likely fucking die in the attempt? He sure does, because he’s already started to work on grooming Leon’s replacements! In the game, Bede is a trainer who came from a neglectful home situation who was noticed by the Chairman and given his endorsement for the Gym Challenge wait hold on that sounds really familiar.

Really, REALLY familiar.

Rose’s ploy with taking away Bede’s gym challenger endorsement after Bede literally did what he asked him to was a clear manipulation tactic, and if it hadn’t been for Opal intervening (and she ABSOLUTELY has Rose’s number and you can’t convince me otherwise), the tactic likely would have worked, because Bede would have done anything to get his endorsement back.

(Also Oleana is absolutely the fall girl set up to look like an obstructive villain while Rose can maintain his veneer of innocence. That’s a topic for another day tho.)

AND THEN. in the anime, he flat out tries to do this with Ash. AND IN THE GAME, HE TRIES TO DO THIS WITH THE MC, LIKE BEDE IS HIS PLAN B AND THE PC IS HIS PLAN C. However, the only child Rose has regular chances to interact with who DOES NOT get the manipulation treatment is Hop. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Chairman always tries to pull shit with you when Hop isn’t around, and the two times he DOES interact with Hop are at the very end of the game where Leon’s been forced into trying to stop the apocalypse and after the Opening Ceremony.

What’s different about the Opening Ceremony, though? LEON IS STANDING RIGHT OVER ROSE’S SHOULDER SMILING STEPFORDLY. Which brings me to my next point: why Rose pulls his end game bullshit.

Leon is now in his early 20s, so he has obviously started to ask for his own agency and say no to things. He has also obviously realized that he does NOT want Rose around his brother, which is why he is fucking looming over Rose’s shoulder when he meets Hop and why Rose almost seems to deliberately avoid Hop for the rest of the game. Rose knows that if he so much as messes with Hop, Leon is going to absolutely turn on him, and he’s already become obstinate enough to be a problem. Rose is losing control of Leon, which is why he’s grooming his potential replacements.

It’s also why Rose LITERALLY HOLDS LEON HOSTAGE IN A TOWER. Like, I am amazed that people haven’t seemed to realize that Hop and the MC were ABSOLUTELY rescuing Leon from a hostage situation. Leon had been on top of the tower with Rose for HOURS at that point, and given Oleana’s personal fucking army and how much Leon clearly did not want to be up there, it’s obvious that there wasn’t a way he could easily extricate himself from the situation. What you do hear from his meeting with Rose sounds a lot like a guy trying to say no while also trying to de-escalate a volatile situation: almost like a victim to their abuser oh wait.

(Oleana also says that the reason she wants to defeat you and Hop is to break Leon’s spirit so he won’t have the strength to say no to the Chairman anymore. Like, that’s literally in game. It’s dialogue.)

So yeah. You’re rescuing a prince from a tower who’s being held hostage by an evil king trying to use the prince’s special power for nefarious purposes. This game is full of fairy tale metaphors. Like, a ton.

When you and Hop show up, you basically force Rose to let Leon go so as to not look like a complete fucking monster or cause a scandal, and Leon basically very politely tells Rose to ‘fuck off’ when he leaves.

So Rose--this narcissistic, megalomaniacal child groomer, who’s basically been shut down by the lynch pin of his plan--does the absolute most rational thing and RELEASES THE APOCALYPSE DEMON OUT OF SPITE. He literally says on a screen in front of Galar that oh no, his releasing Eternatus and causing the Second Darkest Day is actually all LEON’S fault for being so unreasonable and unrealistic. It’s manipulation. It’s emotional abuse. It’s Rose punishing his victim for saying no. It’s Rose throwing a tantrum because Leon told him to wait another week before doing something about something that would happen in a millennium.

Bede made a fool of Rose doing exactly what Rose and Oleana wanted him to do, so he punished him. Leon said no, so he punished him, and punished all of Galar while he was at it. He’s not doing shit for the good of Galar. He’s doing it for himself.

See, the game’s story exists to debate the relationship between adults and children in the Pokemon world. For generation after generation of games, children as young as ten have gone out in the big wide world with nothing but their starter and a Pokedex, and the adults they have met have never had any poor intentions towards them specifically. Yes, there’s all the evil teams and blah blah blah, but they weren’t targeting you, the child MC. You were just caught up in their messes. SWSH is the first game to show that no, there are adults who will try to take advantage of you because you are a child, and there are good adults who will try to protect you.

Opal protects Bede. Leon protects you and Hop. Leon has obviously gotten old enough to realize that what Rose did to him was wrong, and he tries so fucking hard through the whole game to protect you and his little brother from his boss’s machinations and all the bad shit happening in the world. I know people bitch about being ‘railroaded’ and not allowed to participate in the ‘plot’ until the end, but that’s the point. The good adults are trying to protect the children from the bad adults trying to harm them, and the children intervene only when the adults die trying to save them. Children should be allowed to adventures and have fun, but they should also be protected and shielded from shit that can harm them and shit they’re not old enough to understand, and this game--for better or for worse--is trying to strike that balance.

One last, very important thing. Leon’s life had been micromanaged and controlled from the moment he became Champion by Chairman Rose. He had to become all things to Galar--its fucking policeman, it’s regional hero, it’s unbeatable symbol of perfection, it’s hero, and--almost--its messiah--and when the MC becomes a Champion? He doesn’t hesitate to become Chairman, and he tells you--the new Champion--that your job is to explore and have fun. He doesn’t ask you to do sponsorship deals. He lets you do matches and tournaments at your own leisure. He calls you politely to ask if you want to do the Galarian Star Tournament. He doesn’t even know your PHONE NUMBER and I think about that a lot.

The game is about the responsibilities adults have towards children. It’s about how you don’t have to be the main character to be the hero. It’s about how you can’t and shouldn’t do everything alone. It’s about how child predation and abuse don’t have to be obvious or ‘traditional’ to be real and a threat. Finally, as Leon demonstrates so poignantly, it’s about breaking the cycle of abuse.

And THAT’S why SWSH is one of the best stories--if not THE best--that the Pokegames have ever told, regardless of its faults and the National Dex and a berry tree looking a little weird.

[wickjump]

idk if you already talked about this but what are your opinions on dreammare? Or swadmare (Fontcest for example)

(ps- I don't ship any of these)

-🇩🇪 anon

IM SO SORRY i went on a tangent german anon… ik you don’t ship these im just rambling,, no harm to u

i think incest is bad and weird and even in fiction its still gross and when portrayed as another cutesy normal ship it desensitizes people, especially younger audiences, to those subjects and can in fact make them ship it as well.

if you post dreammare art religiously, some 11yo is gonna see it, think it’s cute and ship it themselves. and then bam your weird fetish became some child’s unknowing process into a community surrounding the normalization of being sexually aroused by the rape of characters or fictional children being assaulted by adult characters. that 11yo who entered the community, who make a lot of content of their new favorite ship, will become even more desensitized to pedophillia, incest, and rape in fiction.

believe it or not, this does in fact affect reality. if all that goddamn kid sees is grown adults talking about how sexy it would be if this character was raped by a relative, that child might not feel anything is wrong with the way their uncle grabs their waist because that’s sexy, right? they may even begin having a misplaced crush. or how their older brother asks to practice kissing with them. that’s what everyone online ships and thinks is cute, and that child thinks it’s cute in art, so they don’t think anything is wrong with this.

and this is probably the most simple way of explaining it. that’s not touching on how the proship community makes people angry by promoting an us vs them mentality. “people against proshippers are puritans!” “anyone against proship is an anti, and they’re terrible people who will dox and harass anyone!” (don’t believe me? i got an ask just like this ~1 week ago lmfao)

guess what? that kid will see that and believe it. if someone tries to say what they’re participating in is weird, they’ll register that person as an anti and refuse any help. that kid will be pushed further into the community and grow up on the internet alongside it.

this isn’t my exact story, but i know this because i was basically that kid. i started consuming frans content at age ~11 (a victim of SA btw), which then developed into shipping other unsavory things, which then developed into participating in the proship community (around 2020/2019? the time when it got an established and popular name for itself). and then im fifteen years old and willing to date adults on the internet LMFAOOOOO. not fun. I don’t think this kind of shit should even be given the time of day especially on my page but i also feel like someone sending this kind of question irks me as though there was a possibility i’d say yes to liking it or whatever. also:

“What about the adults in the pro community that say they don’t support that kind of stuff?” the creator of saw probably doesn’t condone murder but if a 7yo watched it every day of his life he’d probably react a lot less to gore. a warning (which is scarcely added, when’s the last time you saw someone clarify they didn’t support incest while posting dreammare?) won’t discourage anyone. it’s still sexualized, it’s still made to appeal to an audience. that goes in one ear out the other very easily.

“What about adult only spaces in the pro community?” ignoring the fact that the proship community is mostly public on all platforms and has no way to block out minors from seeing any of their shit, kids also lie about their age.

“Then it’s the kid’s fault for lying about their age!” that is a pre-pubescent child. they will do stupid things without realizing the gravity of it all especially when being influenced by older people

I wont answer any other asks regarding if i support/don’t support proship content or ships, bc i don’t and now that i’ve given it my most descriptive and detailed reasoning for why i don’t see a reason to give other things like this another detailed response lolll

sorry german anon i know you weren’t expecting this kind of a response 😭😭😭 i just get tired of stuff like this really quickly + people like to put words in my mouth it seems. when you include your trauma with the subject pros seem to quiet down real nicely when faced with the reality of what they’re doing, which is why ive not gotten many asks from them before and very very very few harassment ones. SORRY AGAIN THOUGH!!! have a good night 🙏

tldr:

no i don’t like incest.

[prettyboykatsuki]

i have class in 4 hours and im behaving clownishly. but i need to let my thoughts out

the discourse about afo and yoichis relationship has been driving me nuts on twt. it is worthy examining their relationship to be incestual and the fact people can’t distinguish incest as a narrative theme from shipping is insane. it doesn’t change the underlying narrative of their relationship and it is not stretch to think of it that way. if yoichi was a woman this would be a lot easier for people to grasp!

bnha covers themes like this consistently!! grooming and child abuse are overarching plot points for several arcs, and sexual abuse has been hinted at more than once. it is a disservice to the (imo) very nuanced and fleshed out relationship of afo and his brother, to overlook the most obvious element of incest and abuse.

not ONLY is it an obvious theme, the thematic importance of family as a microcosm of society has played a major part in the story since its conception. so many stories in the series revolve around the corruption of the family structure. afos story being incestual and by extension the most jarring of that corruption is a clever execution for his story!!!!!

its not about shipping!!!!!!!!!!! its a theme and part of the overarching plot between them and is not a stretch at all and wanting to discuss it in that way is not weird!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

like what other context is there for these panels!!! call a spade a spade!!!!

[eleiyaumei]

Grooming in Hakuouki: Sweet School Life: Harada

Everything here is my personal interpretation and opinion. I am not declaring anyone to be a groomer, I am just looking for signs that one might interpret as signs of grooming. Also: Feel free to criticize and correct me.

Eventually, I will take a look at Hijikata and Kazama as well.

Sources: HSSL translation by @hakuogakuen​.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/protecting-children-sexual-abuse/202010/how-recognize-the-sexual-grooming-minor

CW: Discussions of grooming of minors.

If you do not want to read about this topic or about Harada’s potential involvement in it, do not read any further. Take care of yourself and be safe.

 Note: I do not intend to attack you or your love for this fictional character. My intention is to educate others in this fandom (esp. minors and people that are close to their underage relatives) on the characteristics of grooming.

I am not saying people shouldn’t fantasize about (their) teachers (as a teenager I also had a crush on a teacher – who was a tiny bit like Hijikata, actually) but I am recommending anyone to watch out IRL for warning signs of grooming concerning yourselves and the minors that are close to you.

Yes, fiction is not reality. But it can inform and/or warp our perception of reality. Many of you are probably able to distinguish between the two and would not endorse this behavior IRL. And this game might have already taught you about this topic. (Toma’s route in “Amnesia: Memories” taught me to recognize the warning signs of abusive relationships and even though he was my favorite love interest there, I knew what he was doing was not okay.)

Still, I wanted to make this analysis. Because as a teenager, I only knew that that one teacher in our school shouldn’t be touching his students in the manner/frequency as he did. But no one, including me, felt the need/ was confident enough/... to report this behavior to our parents, other teachers, or the director. And there are so many other ways that teachers (or in general people in power) can be inappropriate.

Analysis below the cut.

[rbquartz]

to the anon that's returned to the mbav community

don’t care + didn’t ask + cry about it + stay mad + atticus mitchell isn't gonna notice you + get real + L + mald seethe cope harder + ho mad + basic + skill issue + ratio + you fell off + leave my friends alone + the audacity + triggered + any askers + repelled + get a life + ok + and? + cringe + touch grass + donowalled + not based + die

[tenitchyfingers]

This is SUCH a good video

[comicbookddr]

also now i kind of hate the fact that the girl came out and talked about it because now everyone hates Benny's actor from removing his face from posts and everything and only keeping matthew kate vanessa and cameron but oh well... plus i know that you said that you wouldn't want negative on your page because of the news but again i'm still gonna be a fan and nobody can change my mind otherwise besides he lives in canada and i live in the us so i'm not going to meet him but i have in my dreams

You are entitled to your opinion, but personally I think its wrong to say that victims of grooming should not tell their stories because the person being accused is someone you like.

I do not want to support atticus mittchell on this page anymore and I would hope people like you would respect my opinion and right to do so. I am just going to assume you are the person who has spammed my inbox multiple times now on this topic after I told you I do not want to talk about this situation anymore. I appreciate the questions you have asked me (since they were all sent within minutes of each other I'm going to assume they all came from you), but I will longer be allowing anon asks on my page since I keep getting messages about this topic that I do not want to talk about ever again, and is making me uncomfortable. Please talk so someone you trust/a professional about this situation if you need to vent, please do not use my ask box as your own personal therapy session. Thank you for reading.

[puppeteerparty]

I saw your reblog, as well as the tags, and by clicking on the tags, I saw this post with an analysis of the situation from the side of a person who knew and was familiar with the groomer!

https://www.tumblr.com/nekfofes/722467797177860096/i-ask-you-to-read-my-post-explaining-some-points?source=share

Hello there! I don't want to sound mean, but, this post honestly just sounds like they're trying to dickride Eechi or whatever their name is. It just feels like they're trying to give passes to Eechi's behavior, even seeming to excuse that they sent pornographic material. Brushing it aside because "Um um their parents will find out that they sent porn to minors!" Which is the part I raised a brow at most. Thank you for the post, but, it's not really needed, and explains nothing that could even possibly BEGIN to excuse any of the actions this person has done. Unless I read the post wrong? I apologize if so.

[hor3nee]

• Union •

Gojo and his arranged marriage with Reader.

CW/TW: Fem! Reader, Arranged marriage, BREIF Suggestive stuff, Corny Gojo, Reader & Gojo ages implied to be very young (18-23), Gojo typical flirting, SFW (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo x Reader

AN: Gojo is bitchless in this fic bc I say so. Pt 2 here.

Weddings aren't supposed to be this boring. In fairness, boring is better than a bad wedding. Could have a roadhouse-type fight between in-laws, an ex breaking through the doors proclaiming their undying love or a runaway bride. Or a runaway groom. Maybe he should've been a runaway groom? Internally, Gojo's sure it'd be more exciting than sitting in a room full of family and 'friends' who are discussing his marriage more than he's even caring to think of it.

"Congratulations to The Strongest and his bride." Another blanked-out random voice says giving polite blessings to him and the lady dressed in bridal wear beside him, you.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, they call him, well he calls himself, and yes, he is, he without a doubt is the strongest. Born with the Six Eyes technique after ages of the Gojo clan, while relevant in the Jujutsu world, unable to have a child with such technique for so long, Gojo was instantly hailed heir, no questions asked.

And with all of that, comes responsibilities, that, as immature as the man acts, he does take care of. Responsibilities include many things other than killing curses though, responsibilities include managing the clan, doing his part in Jujutsu society, mentoring the students and keeping peace with the other clans. Just to list the few, less action-based responsibilities. Marriage is an obvious one as well.

And you're the bride.

He knew it was coming. It wasn't specifically because he was the strongest he was gonna be strung into a marriage as quickly as possible, though that played a role in it. He saw it with his parents, relatives, and the other clans, Zenin especially who practiced it most rigidly perhaps, marriage was a necessary part of holding a certain status, it's simply expected. Arranged are ideal.

It's not that he was forced into it either, everyone knows this is Satoru Gojo, he does whatever he wants. He gets whatever he wants, he's spoiled, both by the hands of Jujutsu society that almost worships him for his abilities and his own self, the ego he holds very proudly and very loudly that he shamelessly keeps up. If he wants something, he takes it, if he doesn't, he'll leave. He holds that sort of irrefutable power.

So he's okay with this, with marriage. With an arranged marriage, to you, whatever his reasons are that much is clear.

"You gonna eat that?" He's not asking really, he's already got his freakishly long arm drawled out on the table grabbing the plate out of yours. Fingers wriggling comically and he doesn't even make eye contact, looking at the slice of cake with a deeper passion than he bothered to look at you with. Not that you're expecting it, but.. you are the bride, he is on board.

"..Uh guess not." Is all you can reply, slightly awkwardly as he snatches the slice and gobbles it, humming like an overgrown toddler. Was he feeling as awkward too? He didn't look it, he looked fine, bored out of his over-active mind but not mad or anything. Much less mad at you, nor nervous. You're sat close, right by his side, being the main events the two of you of course, Gojo more so because he's the main event in everything in his life.

"This shit's good." He's moaning now, at cake. Almost makes you cringe but with that huge grin of overabundant confidence he has, he somehow makes it seem less cringe.

"Wedding cake's always good-" He gulps down another piece as he speaks. "Best part of any wedding."

Was that?.. Was that an insult? Felt like it, you're sat there all prettied up prim and proper to marry him, and you know he accepted this marriage and he's calling the cake the best part of the wedding? No, you can't even blame him. If anything you probably agree, save for the overly expensive gifts of cold hard cash the other clans and guests were leaving those were also good parts. Because this is, arranged.

You two, are, for the most part, strangers to each other. Together yes, married actually since you and him signed the legal documents no less than 10 minutes earlier into the wedding.

Still, it's awkward.

Soon the cake is gone, mostly by Gojo's abyss of a stomach, and the guests leave. Caterers clean up and family members give some last tidings before leaving. As well as you, and Gojo.

"So, do you think I'm hot?" He perks, sprawled on the couch with his formal wear lazily pulled off scattering around the floor from when he took it off the instant he was inside the residence. His residence, of course. A grin showing no signs of the tense awkwardness one would expect a young man freshly married to a wife he's only married to through arrangements would be. But no, he's Satoru Gojo, if there's one thing he has, it's an overwhelming amount of self-assurance.

"Do I- Do I think you're hot?" You reply, standing a bit awkwardly in front of him, still trying to process the fact you're sleeping here tonight, no for the rest of your life you'll be sleeping in this house. Home, you should call it, it is your home now. Might take time to properly digest that but it is.

"Yeah, am I hot?" The question is, by his expression, obviously self-explained. He IS attractive, with pretty big blue eyes, tall and decently built, and gorgeous lips too, he knows it, he knows he's hot. Gojo just likes to tease, he's a little shit. 

"I mean, am I attractive to YOU?" He asks again, putting more emphasis. For all the slightly passive-aggressive things he's said the evening and immature behaviour, the question is poised genuinely. He's smirking, humming almost as he asks but the way he looks at you it's also clear that he is asking you, seriously.

His gaze never breaks with yours, and though you only take a second to respond, it feels like an hour with the heavy weight of the situation in your brain and the almost stinging feeling of his wide baby blue bright eyes piercing through yours waiting for your response.

"You... Yes, you are attractive." He is, he knows that already though and that wasn't what he was asking. But you know that wasn't what he asking. His expression doesn't falter though, but there's an obvious disappointment, boredom more specifically in it at your lack of response. You're talking but the words are white paper plain, even you can taste it on your tongue, how chaste you sound. 

"I think you're attractive, too." His reply is more genuine than yours as well, maybe not genuine but a lot more emotion in it. Maybe he's just more confident, which he is no doubt. 

"Thanks-"

"Like, seriously." He whistles, christ that's jarring. "seriously hot." 

He's up off the couch before you can give another disingenuous 'thanks' and standing right in front of you, eyeing you down with little to no attempt to act ceremoniously, which he was showing at least the faintest ounce of at the wedding earlier. That gawky tension of whatever the hell the two of you have going on is back, but not for Gojo. He doesn't even have a semblance of humility in him to feel that tension that's burning inside of you right now.

"We're supposed to like each other, you know." He adds, keeping his eyes trained on your body shamelessly.

It feels like his hands are folded around you but they aren't, they're hanging loosely by his side all dangly as his limbs are, the man is a giant. It's more a feeling, suffocating, as though you've been cornered when you aren't. It's the middle of a decently spaced living room and the front door is unlocked. And Gojo, as devious as his smirk is, would never hold you by the binds of a pressured marriage. If anything, you were almost under the assumption he didn't care for you, or this marriage.

"I guess, yeah." You start. "You like me then?" You finish, a bit bolder now, he's seamlessly talking and you are married now, till death do you part as they say. Might as well match his energy.

"You bet I do, sweetheart." Petnames? Okay maybe too much, he might need to dial it down. But Gojo is Gojo, the strongest, an eccentric man. He doesn't 'dial it down' for anything, or anyone. You're his wife, and he likes what he sees. Smiling as he speaks, genuine and concise in his words, he means what he says. As confusing as this situation is, he is young, he's accepted it, and not begrudgingly at all. "I got me a pretty wife- you, you're my wife, so I like you." 

"Thanks Gojo." Ah, there it is, not disingenuous. Though minimal he picks up on it, you also mean it. Maybe not in the way he means it, maybe more than he means it, who knows, not him. Confident as he says he is with the ladies, he's never actually been with one before, this whole relationship shtick, marriage shtick, is new.

Marriage is built off of love, his elders told him, he saw in shitty rom-coms and pop songs blasting the radio. He'd like that, love, as much immaturity and disregard he’s shown at the wedding, the engagement, the arrangements when he first heard they'd picked a partner for him, it has appeal. And he wants it, and this woman, you, you're going to be the one to give it to him, love. Not today, not tonight. Maybe not in a month or a year, but it'll grow, and fester over time. He's sure, as he is in everything, this marriage will last.

"I'm tired as hell from all that wedding crap," Gojo says, his feet ever so minimally backing off so he isn't smothering you with his presence and wide sapphire-like eyes boring into your understandably unsure eyes. "There's a guest room, I'll sleep there and you can take the main bedroom-"

"I can sleep with you." You cut him off.

"In the guest bedroom??" He questions with a blink, okay so he's a bit stupid. That's okay though.

"No, with you, in our bedroom." You correct him, feeling more assured now, eased by Gojo's, thankfully.

"Right." The cheeky grin is back. Actually, it isn't very annoying anymore, it's kinda attractive. He is attractive that much is sure, but he's starting to be attractive to you. "Let's go sleep in OUR bed then, how's that sound?" 

"Sounds good."

It's oddly domestic, the walk to the bedroom he previously had all to himself, showing you the way, and showing you the bed you're gonna be sleeping in for the rest of your days. The way his slender fingers, which you were almost sure would poke out your eyes, gracefully helped you dissemble the layers of jewelry and fabrics you were dolled up in. His touch was feather-light, in stark contrast to his smug demeanour, making it clear, the boy has never undressed a lady.

Nothing goes further than that though, he doesn't push for anything more, and considering how new and confusing everything still is, you don't either. Instead choosing to lay back, and shut your eyes beside Gojo, letting exhaustion overtake you both and just sleep for the night.

Sleep beside your husband.

[angie-words]

Second part of details from the Am I Broken: Survivor Stories episode titled Claire "I ignored It and I Believed Him Because He's A Storyteller [Neil Gaiman]". Part 1 here

Again, a reminder that I really, really urge you to listen to the episode if you feel able, found on Apple and Spotify.

EDIT (1st August 2024): two further women have made allegations

CW: details of sexual coercion, gaslighting, power dynamic imbalance, sexual assault, trauma, ptsd, sexual predator behaviour, grooming, abuse of power, discussion of rape culture, victim-blaming

Claire says she is glad the fandom is doing the work to believe victims, but she also understands those "burying their head in the sand" because that's what she tried to do

DeBoer asks what else has helped Claire, besides learning new vocabulary to help her frame her experiences (e.g. grooming, sexual coercion). She says that listening to her body's physical responses, including the trauma dreams, has helped

She began telling friends and she said this helped a lot as they validated what she was feeling rather than believing Gaiman's narrative

Claire says that writing has also helped her process, including writing letters she never sent. She wrote blog and reddit posts, but didn't publish any of them because she didn't know how to come forward with her story

DeBoer thanks her for finding the ability to come forward and asks her what allowed her to feel this was possible now. Claire says that talking with a friend allowed her to develop a certainty, especially when she starts advocating for herself and other people

Claire says that she had been in denial because she was trying to protect herself from the knowledge that someone she trusted and adored had violated her trust

She expresses a deep sadness about how her memories and love of Gaiman's work have been tainted by what he has done to her. She describes that loss of "such magic and beauty" as being deeply sad

The last time she spoke to Gaiman was 2022, which it now turns out was the same year he got Scarlett to sign an NDA.

Claire reiterates how he is seen as a god, deified by the fandom

During one call, he said "I don't know what I see in you - I'm an award-winning author and you are-" and he didn't finish the sentence but she says he didn't need to as the meaning was clear. She describes herself as one of many fans willing to do almost anything for him

Claire says she and others worshipped him. She says consent wasn't impossible, but she was operating from a hero worship complex, fueling a fawn response

DeBoer states that fans are incapable of true consent - what they see is a projection, they are worshipping someone who isn't real, and so they are incapable of being in a real relationship with that hero

Claire agrees it was his responsibility to open the discussion about power dynamics and adhere to it. She said he didn't check in or respect boundaries; she says that wasn't because of autism or something else - she doesn't know why he felt he was owed her body/consent. DeBoer agrees the responsibility was Gaiman's

Claire says that ongoing consent discussions are needed; DeBoer agrees that such things also need to start slowly, and they both discuss how fast Gaiman moved things between him and Claire

Reflecting on how these experiences have affected her in light of the allegations, she can see now she experienced trauma responses to things that reminded her of him. She had to distance herself from friends who still loved Gaiman; she found she couldn't even enjoy reading. She even stopped going into book stores.

Claire almost stopped volunteering at the rape crisis centre. She wasn't sure how she could advocate for anyone else when she hadn't been able to do so for herself. Her manager validated her feelings and said that if everyone who'd had their boundaries violated left, they'd have no one left. It's implied this gave her a new perspective and moved her away from some victim-blaming of herself

She still experiences feelings of doubt and a lack of self-worth in comparison to who Neil Gaiman is, what he's done. However, Claire is trying to move past this mindset, the voice of him in her head

DeBoer encourages her by reminding her that she matters, that she has a voice. They thank her for her bravery and courage

Claire hopes people come away with believing how our bodies respond to trauma - "listen to all of it, not just what people around you are saying"

Claire says she is not broken: she is sad for the child who lost her hero. At this point, Claire becomes a little overwhelmed. She states he influenced how she thought about the assaults

DeBoer ends by talking about how sexual abuse is about both sex and power, not just power as some have stated, otherwise this would be a different type of abuse. They say that there are many indicators of Gaiman having power (money, fame, social capital, age, maturity, gender, eloquence and mythopoesis)

DeBoer says the person with the power has the greater responsibility for shaping the boundaries of the relationship

They say that Claire's healing has come through being able to tell her story, finding the power within herself. DeBoer details an exercise called "safety bubble" that can assist with this (I'd recommend going to about 1:09:00 into the podcast if you want to learn more)

DeBoer reiterates listening to our bodies and how they respond to trauma - it can be difficult to interpret what the sensations we feel are, but it can allow us to reclaim our stories

They define rape culture and how it is insidious, blaming victims, then sharing original notes DeBoer sent when Claire first contacted them. They say Gaiman was testing and pushing boundaries, that this was predatory behaviour; they also said at the time that there was a high likelihood Claire was not the only person Gaiman had done this to

They end with mentioning where to find more information about restorative justice steps someone can take if they have hurt another person

I think that's all folks. It's been extremely difficult for me, as someone who's experienced sexual assault and also this kind of gaslighting thanks to rape culture mentalities. I hope this has been useful for some folks. Please look after yourselves❤️

[syoddeye]

spoils

poly 141....sort of x reader 1.2k words lightly edited cw: kidnapping, non-consensual touching not my most creative title, apologies 2024/04/01 Update: This series is now Poly141! x transmasc!Reader.

"You'll be joining us tonight."  

A decree, not an invitation. Not something to be refused or challenged, like the man who proclaimed it.

When you emerge from the forced bath, freshly washed and groomed by the hands of insistent strangers, your clothes are gone. The ones they left are ridiculous. Nothing you would ever wear. The material, the fastenings, the embellishments - impractical, flimsy, made to be torn away. You note the many warnings that comprise the ensemble.

Unwieldy, draping fabric. It skims the floor, requiring you to hitch it up to walk steady.

No footwear. Difficult to run on gravel and dirt on bare feet, should you make it that far.

Layers of noisy, dangling necklaces and bracelets. Might as well wear a bell with a collar.

Mute, placid faces escort you to the dining hall. A silence falls over the crowded table, stretching from one end of the grand space to the other. Your reception is mixed. Uncertainty, hatred, disinterest - unbridled want, being the most disturbing. 

A man near the head of the table, hair cut into a mohawk, menaces you with a grin you feel scraping against your ribs. Across from him, another man, the one who found you, is more surreptitious with his interest, smirking, hiding teeth no doubt as sharp as his companion's.

A hand at your back nudges. You take measured steps toward him, helming the table with a pleased, smug smile. Your skin still sings from earlier, your first escape attempt, radiating with each inch you cross.

As you draw nearer, you falter. There is no chair left for you. Your eyes flick up, finally meeting his, and your stomach churns with realization. His eyes crease in amusement, and he leans back to pat a thigh.

The expectation is unmistakable, and it is nearly enough to send you screaming and shrieking from the room despite the futility. 

A silent order, degrading and humiliating. 

Swallowing hard, you lift your chin to continue your slow march, but the sudden movement of the mohawked man makes you jerk to the side, giving an even wider berth to the row of men. He turns in his seat to rake his eyes up your figure, licking his lip when he makes it to your face. The masked man beside him reaches over, grabs the lech by the neck, and corrects him, muttering some scolding.

You hesitate in front of your intended seat. The blue eyes of your captor are too blithesome for the circumstances. Though, he has reason to celebrate. You turn and reluctantly sit, barely putting weight on his limb, only for a broad hand to pull you further onto the meat of his thigh, settling you by snaking an arm to belt you in place.

Dozens of witnesses watch you wince and hiss as he adjusts you again, closer to the table. The hand of the arm bracing you slips into an open slit of the clothes you wear, one you hadn't known existed, and digs into your plush thigh. His hand is cold and makes you shiver.

You know he feels your trembling and twitching with your back to his chest as you register every one of his subtle movements. His excitement.

With a gesture, dinner and conversation resume. For most of the table, it was as if you weren't even there.

"Pour for us," John purrs into your ear, nosing your temple as he grabbed a short glass, indicating a decanter within reach.

It takes effort to calm your shaking hand. Leaning forward slightly, unable to avoid pushing your bottom against John's leg firmly, you lift the decanter and ignore the quiet groan behind you. The man who scruffed his associate watches like a hawk.  

The meal proceeds. John's focus returns to some discussion with the man who found you – Kyle, you learn – regarding some operation or directive. When you shift, seeking comfort for your abused skin, John's grip pulses meanly.

"Eat," He whispers when you don't touch the food. There's only one plate in front of you, and you assumed it was for John. But at his command, you take a fork and eat. Each bite is a mechanical function, each swallow from fear instead of hunger.

Eventually, John plucks a piece of food off the shared plate and offers it directly to your lips. He tests you with a bit of bread first, pushing it firmly to your closed mouth when it refuses to open, then presses it to your tongue. It's awkward and uncomfortable, his fingers lingering, hooking over your bottom lip. You set the fork down after he feeds you three times. It sickens you, the relief you feel when you squeeze his arm when you hit your limit, full and finished, and he stops. 

"So well behaved now," John muses aloud. "Just needed a little care and a meal." Quiet laughter rumbles in crude agreement among the men closest to him. "To think we almost ransomed you. Too pretty a thing to give back, I think."

You lift your face, chest tightening, and find three sets of eyes staring back. One at a time, they slip past you to John. His head ducks, mouth pressing to your cheek. "S'pose I ought to share the spoils…What about Kyle? He usually keeps his hands to himself."

Kyle's eyes narrow and his fingers curl tight around his glass.

"Could give MacTavish a turn. He leaves teeth marks though." 

The man with the mohawk simpers, nose flaring. He sets a thick arm on the table and leans toward you, fork in hand.

A frightened whimper crawls up your throat, and without thinking, you press back into John, whose hand squeezes your thigh. You feel his chuckle before you hear it.

"No? Too scary? Simon's not much better…" 

The last man, a beast in black, sits as still as a statue. However, his eyes, two black pits, bore into you, and the fabric of his mask shifts when you don't immediately look away.

John's hand slides out of your clothes to your waist, seemingly preparing you to transfer to Simon, and you scramble, grabbing at his arm, protest caught in your mouth.

"No?" John rumbles with feigned surprise, the return of his rapacious grip underscoring it. His hand glides down to the curve of your ass. "Want to stay with me, pet?"

You are not about to give him the satisfaction of an answer, even if it's obvious. You fix your eyes to the plate of scraps, afraid to look at the rest of the table that, like you, has gone silent.

John kisses the crown of your head. "Quiet thing. We'll go upstairs soon, and I'll make up for earlier." He taps the side of your thigh hard enough to agitate the sore flesh.

You bite back your dissent. No point. 

The meal resumes with dessert, and you lick the cream from his finger, suffering his whispered praises. His subordinates openly stare. You can't say for certain if any of them are more palatable than another, but you can't bring yourself to regret your 'choice'.

After all, the devil you know is better than the ones you don't.

[reidsrambles]

An Invisible Locket

Chapter 3: Painted Me Golden

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader // Secret relationship

Description: You work with your best friend and your boyfriend. The only problem is, nobody knows Spencer Reid is your boyfriend of over a year. When you find out that Spencer's getting sent out on a case immediately after getting back to Quantico, impulses take over. (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, oral sex (M & F receiving), PIV sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, discussions of abortion (in a pro-choice context, though Reader ends up choosing to stay pregnant), minor mentions of alcohol and cancer.

As for the crime subplot, much of it is very canon-typical (referenced child abuse & grooming by an extended family member (non-sexual), violence, blood/gore, drugs. As always, please feel free to let me know if I miss any CWs!

A/N: This fic is obviously heavy on the Spencer and Reader relationship, but it's also got a significant Garcia best friend plot line and crime plot line. This fic also features an unplanned Reader pregnancy. Reader debates abortion and is pro-choice, but ultimately ends up keeping the pregnancy. If any of that isn't up your alley, please feel free to skip this fic!

Names used: Baby, baby girl, good/sweet/pretty girl, daddy, good boy (once), my love.

Words (this chapter): 4.1 K

Words (total): 29.1 K

Pulling up to the FBI Academy for the first time was quite intense. You had only moved to Virginia two days prior, and your apartment consisted of a mattress on the floor and stacks of boxes all over the place. When you pulled them out of the box the night before, deep wrinkles littered your white blouse and black pencil skirt. Thank god you had thought ahead and put an iron and ironing mat in with your box of work clothes. First impressions are important.

Penelope had prepped you on what to expect for your first day. Security was a lot, but knowing what to expect definitely made the process easier. Your new boss was the first one to greet you as you stepped out of the elevator.

“You must be Y/N.” He reached his hand out to shake yours, which you promptly took. His handshake was firm, but not at all aggressive; a fine line that he straddled well. “I’m your Unit Chief, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Penelope Garcia has told us so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope!”

“Oh, of course. Everyone should be free right now, so I’ll gather them and introduce you.”

Penelope had told you all about every member of the team, both casually, before you got hired, and after, in order to prepare you. It was strange to put faces to the names you had heard so much about. Penelope didn’t have a bad thing to say about anyone, but she did give you some warnings about everyone’s… quirks.

Everyone was very kind as they greeted you, but you couldn’t help but notice the timid guy, about your age, keeping some distance and standing off to the side. Penelope had told you about one, Dr. Spencer Reid, but the image you had crafted of him in your head wasn’t matching up with reality.

Your eyes kept drifting over to him and Derek must have noticed.

“Kid, stop being shy and get over here!” he said to Reid.

To you, he whispered, “I’m not sure if Penelope has told you about our little Einstein, but he gets nervous around pretty ladies.” The way he had said it wasn’t at all flirty towards you; he was slyly ridiculing Spencer.

Spencer put a hand out for you to shake. As he stood in front of you, shaking your hand, what you had been told about him was blending into the reality of him. Nerdy, ‘Boy Genius’ meets attractive FBI agent.

His light brown hair—mostly wavy, besides a few distinct curls—was just at the length where he was having to brush it off his face. His hazel eyes, framed by glasses, appeared to subtly shift in tone as his face moved. He wore a cardigan over his dress shirt and his tie was slightly too loose; not crisp and neat like Hotch’s was.

He wasn’t even physically your type, really. The guys you slept with in college tended to be athletic and more of the douchey frat bro type.

Your high school was small, and you were the lame girl who would spend her lunches hidden away in the computer lab coding. Teenagers can be cruel, and you weren’t exactly the epitome of popular. In senior year, you’d decided that when you got to college, you’d “fake it ‘til you make it” in regard to confidence. Turns out, guys found your confidence hot; they didn’t care what your major was. You never quite “made it” with your confidence, though. You just kept faking. It was tiring.

You never dated in college because you could only keep the façade up for so long, and once you felt yourself becoming invested in a guy and wanting something real, you ran. In therapy, you’ve since worked through a lot of that, thankfully. But meeting Spencer was what got you to delve into that aspect of your past with your therapist—something you only realized later, when you started dating him.

Love at first sight doesn’t exist, but from that first meeting with Spencer, there was some sort of spark. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even lust. You just felt something when he shook your hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to finally meet you,” he said, his eyes avoiding meeting yours.

***

The door to Penelope’s apartment opens and standing before you is your best friend, already in her pajamas and fluffy unicorn slippers. Her face is a bit puffy. She’s been crying.

You lift up the reusable shopping bag you’re carrying to draw attention to it. “You go sit while I put these away and get changed, all right?”

With the ice cream in the freezer, the wine in the fridge, and your pajamas on, you regroup with Penelope in the living room. She’s on the couch, wrapped in one of her many throw blankets. The TV is playing reruns of a show you know she doesn’t even watch, but the background noise is appreciated. You reach down and grab a blanket for yourself from the basket she keeps them in and settle into the opposite end of the couch.

Penelope blankly stares at the TV, making no effort to address you. Knowing your best friend, you’d guess that she wants you to start this conversation. She hates confrontation even more than you do, somehow.

The show on the TV dances across your field-of-view, but you have no clue what’s happening on it. It’s time to put on your big-girl-pants and go for it.

“Please, just spill,” you say. “I can’t stand seeing you like this and I’ve been a nervous wreck all day because of it.” Your words come out soft. “What did I do? I genuinely have no clue what I did wrong.”

Taking a throw pillow from the couch, you hug it to your chest as if it can shield you from whatever she’s going to say.

“You and Reid.”

Shit.

An enormous sigh falls out of you, and you aren’t sure if it’s relief that your secret is finally out of the bag or that you finally know what’s wrong. Regardless, that’s enough confirmation for Penelope.

“How long?” she continues, before you can even start.

The guilt of having hidden this from her for so long has been weighing on you much more than you previously realized, and now it’s all come to a head.

“Fourteen months. A little over a year,” you say, “Penelope I’m so—”

“Stop,” she cuts you off and begins to cry as she continues. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to find out that your best friend has been lying to you about something this big? And Spencer’s been lying to me, too! Does anyone else know!?”

Seeing her this hurt is killing you. You should have told her sooner. If you had a sister, you probably would have told her a long time ago. You’re an only child and Penelope isn’t super close with her stepbrothers, so you’d determined that you must be twin flames or something like that. Soul sisters, maybe.

“You’re the only person at work that knows. Even outside of work, only his mom and my parents know. When this started, we took things slow. We were casual for like, a month or so and we obviously weren’t going to tell anyone about that. Once we started dating, we thought it made more sense to keep it between us; to avoid comments and eyes on us at work, you know? We kept things entirely professional at work. Neither of us was sure that it was going to last and, if it didn’t, we could navigate working together as exes, but we didn’t want to navigate the entire unit knowing that we were exes.”

You shrug your shoulders and let out a defeated breath. “Regardless, look at what happened this morning with your meeting. I know that the team wouldn’t let anything happen to me or Spence, but if Strauss wants to play games and threaten someone’s job…?”

You don’t even need to answer that question because Penelope already knows that an intimate workplace relationship would put a target on your back with Erin.

“But you know you can trust me. Why didn’t you trust me?”

“I should have,” you nod. “It’s not that I actively distrusted you, Pen. I swear.” You reach out from your blanket cocoon and grab her hand, which she reciprocates. “I think that, after we decided that we wanted to make an attempt at something serious between us, we wanted to be able to focus on that without any external influence, especially from anyone at work. And it’s definitely been a lot of work. I love him so much, but with our jobs and our schedules…? We’ve both had to fight to find the alone time and the space where we can just be a couple.”

Penelope starts gently rubbing the palm of your hand with her thumb and her face softens with a feeble smile.

“You love our boy wonder?”

You mirror her expression with your own shy smile as you reflect on your partner.

“I love him so much. I mean, you know how amazing he is. I definitely don’t need to tell you that. He’s such an amazing boyfriend, though, too. I always feel happy and safe when I’m with him. He’s always teaching me new things and I know the team just wants him to shut up sometimes when he goes all Professor Reid at work, but I could listen to him talk for hours. When we’re together, sometimes I just let him ramble while I knit. He’s my free audiobook,” you giggle.

The smile on both of your faces has brightened and you’ve slowly shifted closer to each other on the couch throughout the conversation. Penelope grabs your other hand and lovingly squeezes it.

“You know how much I love you and I’m so, so happy that you’re this happy. The Good Doctor has good taste too, it seems.” There’s some wistfulness in her expression as her eyes meet yours again. “I just really wish you had told me, so I didn’t have to find out like this.”

Your demeanor rapidly shifts into perplexity as you remember that Penelope never explained the discovery to you. “Wait, how did you figure it out, anyway!? You never told me!”

An air of pride washes over her. “Well, you may have fooled an entire unit of profilers, but as we both know, my dear Y/N, I’m the divine being from which no secrets can be kept …for longer than one year—give or take.”

You giggle, always pleased by how easily she can make you laugh.

“Okay, now, Miss Divine Being, tell me how it actually happened,” you prod.

She rolls her eyes and begins narrating her version of today’s events to you. “So, I was already back at my desk when I got your text saying that you were going home for lunch. I was so surprised, because I was like, ‘I didn’t know Y/N was leaving! I was going to offer to buy her lunch from her favorite fancy French café down the road as an apology for stressing her out this morning!’”

This woman’s flair for the dramatics is showing, but you can’t even complain because you’re already thoroughly entertained.

She continues, “I didn’t want to text you to ask if you had already left, in case you were on your bike. No distracted cycling for you! So, I checked the security camera that’s in the bike cage of the parking lot, and I saw that your bike was still locked up! Maybe you were still making your way down to your bike, I thought. So I totally didn’t check the very precise geolocation of your work phone, because that would totally be crossing a line and very much against policy, right?”

Your jaw drops open. Are you entirely surprised? No. Disappointed in her? Yes.

“Anyway, I learned that you were up on the 2nd floor of the parking garage. Weird, right? I pull up the 2nd floor parking garage security feed—which, I very much am allowed to do—and what do I see?”

You try extremely hard to hold back a smirk as the full picture of her discovery comes together in your mind.

She claps her hands together. “I see my best friend getting into the car of none other than Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“So, that’s it? You saw me get into Spencer’s car and your Spidey-senses just knew?”

“I put two and two together, Y/N! Well, first, I thought about the reasons you would lie to me about going home for lunch in order to go somewhere with Reid, but I couldn’t figure out where you would want to go with him.”

“Penelope Garcia!” you gasp. “Did you track my work phone all the way to my house?”

“I also tracked Reid’s phone,” she quietly admits. “Both of you sneaking off to your apartment was enough for me to figure out there was some hanky-panky going down.”

“Well, I hadn’t seen him in a week, and he was about to leave again on this case, so we needed—”

She plugs her ears with her fingers. “Nuh, uh! I don’t need to hear any more of that. I’m still processing the dating thing, so please spare me the dirty details!”

You crack open the wine and ice cream you brought while catching up on the Bachelorette, yelling at the screen whenever something outrageous happens (which is often). You skip out on the wine, though, because you’ve got to be able to wake up for work tomorrow. One glass and you’d be zonked.

After getting in bed, you and Penelope lie facing each other. You’ve worked through a lot tonight, but something still feels unsettled for some reason.

You speak in a whisper, breaking the silence. “Pen, I’m sorry I never told you. I wish that I had been the one to tell you versus you finding out like that.”

“My little pumpkin pie, it’s okay.” She gently pinches your cheek. “To be fair, I shouldn’t have tracked your phone. I should have just waited until you got back after lunch and just asked you about it.”

“Yeah, probably,” you laugh. “I’m not telling Hotch, but you know you’ve got to apologize to Spencer later, right? For tracking his phone, too?”

She nods. “I know. I’ll talk to him once you tell him that I know so I can apologize.”

You know she will. She screwed up, but her heart is always in the right place.

“Neither of us are perfect, that’s for sure. Think about it this way, though. Yes, you fucked up, but at least you came clean immediately and didn’t lie to me for over a year, right?” you joke.

Penelope laughs alongside you. “You only lied to protect your relationship. Now that I’ve had a hot minute to process that my best-friend-slash coworker has been secretly dating my other best-friend-slash-coworker,” she pauses to take a breath and you have to pull your lips between your teeth to prevent a giggle, “you know I could never, ever fault you for that.”

Only a beat passes before she continues, asking, “Can you promise me something?”

“Promise you what, Pen?”

“No more secrets,” she says, “for either of us. You’re my best friend in the whole world.” In the faint glow of pink lava lamp light contrasting the pale moonlight shining in through the window, you see the reflection of her eyes becoming glossy. “We got through this, but in the future, let me in. Let me be by your side.”

You feel your face heating as your already dim vision gets blurrier.

“Yeah. Okay. But, now that you know, we need to have more girl’s nights and sleepovers so I can keep you up to date on things. If we talk too much at work, one of us will slip up in front of someone.”

“You mean, I’d slip up, and I totally get that because I would definitely be the one to accidentally spill the beans.”

“And I’m trusting you not to. Think you can do that for me, Pen?”

“You know I can’t promise that with a 100%, money-back guarantee because I’m me,” her gentle smile is faintly illuminated, “but I’ll definitely try my best.”

You know you could never ask for anything more from Penelope. It’s the way her brain works, and you couldn’t ask her to change that without fundamentally changing who she is, and you love her as-is. If she accidentally slipped up, it would suck, but it also wouldn’t be the absolute end of the world or anything.

“Hey, I love you, Pen”

She reaches up and taps the tip of your nose.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You both roll onto your backs. The air feels lighter.

“So, when are you gonna tell the team?” she asks.

“I’m not too sure, honestly. Things are just so good right now and I’m scared to change too much. I’m also scared to paint that big, bright target on my back, you know? I can’t have Strauss or hell, even Hotch thinking that I’m less competent at my job because of my relationship with Spencer.”

Penelope takes a moment before asking, “What about Spencer? How does he feel about it?”

“Now, I think he’s a bit more ready than I am. In the beginning, he was the one who had more to lose by telling the team, especially before we became official, official. I was still relatively new to the team then, but he had known everyone for years and he didn’t want everyone’s perception of him to change so drastically.”

“Well, whenever you decide to tell the team, you know everyone’s going to be really happy for you, right? You both are a part of the BAU family.”

“Yeah, I know. I think we’ve just gotten so comfortable hiding that the idea of everything being out in the open is scary. Thank you for everything, though, Pen.”

She reaches over and grasps your hand with hers. You squeeze back; your silent reassurance to each other that everything is going to be okay, no matter what.

***

“Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to finally meet you,” he said.

Every time his eyes flicked back to your face, it felt raw. You had to look away. You felt naked.

After that awkward introduction, the first six or seven months of working at the FBI were uneventful, as far as any sort of relationship between you and Spencer. You primarily only left your cave of an office to go to the bathroom, to make coffee, or for case briefs, anyway.

You did see him a few times outside of work, though. Dave had invited everyone over to his place for dinner a few times, and there were a handful of times that the team got drinks at the bar after work. He didn’t ignore you and you didn’t ignore him per se, but you still didn’t interact a whole lot. You grew closer to the rest of the team over those months, but not to Spencer.

Even with that first flicker of something when you met him, you knew you couldn’t pursue Spencer, even if you wanted to. Even if he were somehow attracted to you, you couldn’t date a coworker, especially not when you had barely been there half-a-year.

You reminded yourself that you were given the chance work with your best friend and to actually make some positive change in the world. You couldn’t willingly choose to fuck that up over some guy, especially when you weren’t even sure how you felt about him. Sure, he was an attractive guy. But being around Spencer felt like looking at a statue behind glass; close in proximity, but entirely untouchable. Entirely unreachable. What did he even feel like?

Everything changed the day you were caught sobbing in the bathroom. That day, the glass shattered before you and you reached out to touch. It was early afternoon and the usual ambiance of the office had quieted, most people out to lunch or heads-down at their desk, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The large pane of mirrored glass spanning the wall above the bathroom sinks made you feel as though you were in a funhouse; you, the clown. You dabbed at the black mascara stains under your eyes as you tried to somewhat-preserve your makeup, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. It turned into whack-a-mole, but with smeared mascara.

There were two quick knocks on the bathroom door before it opened, ever so slightly.

“I’m not coming in,” the male voice declared, clearing his throat, “but, is everything– uh, are you okay… in there?”

You froze. “Reid?”

“Y/N?” he asked in return. “I didn’t know who was in there, but I heard the crying.”

“Shit.” You covered your mouth. “Sorry, I mean, uh–” Fuck. “I didn’t realize I was so loud, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay.”

He went quiet for a second and neither of you moved a muscle. It was so awkward and the only noise to fill the silence was the buzz of the fluorescent bathroom lights.

“Do you want me to go find Garcia?” he asked.

“No. She, uh– She left for lunch a few minutes ago.”

“Oh. Well, sorry for… intruding.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for checking on me, Reid.”

“If you need or, uh, if you want someone to talk to, you know where I’ll be.”

He gave a couple seconds before closing the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he walked away.

A few minutes later, you returned to your office to a sticky note on your desk which read:

“Here’s my personal number if you ever need a listening ear. I hope everything’s okay.”

You: “Hi, Spencer. It’s Y/N. Just got your note. Do you have a few minutes to swing by my office?”

You had figured the least you could do was explain and thank him for reaching out. Your text went unanswered, but about a minute later, he knocked on your door.

You explained that you were crying because you overheard two security guards making fun of the way you and Penelope dress. You see those two guards every morning at the security checkpoint on your way in. While you were on your way to grab stuff from the printer, you heard them joking with each other around the corner.

“I know it’s a really stupid thing to cry over. It’s just clothes. I didn’t want to tell Penelope though, obviously.”

“That’s a completely valid thing to cry over, in my book,” he said, his tone completely free of judgment.

“What, like you ever cry?” you joked.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he laughed. “You’re good, don’t worry.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for checking up on me and to explain. It was nothing serious. I’m fine.”

As he turned to leave, half in your office and half out, he said something that immediately had you reconsidering how you felt about him. “I’m glad you’re better. If you ever need to chat or something though, you can always text my personal cell. And, for what it’s worth, I think you look great.” His tone was probably more suggestive than he had intended because he panicked a bit as soon as the words left his mouth. “Your outfit, I mean!”

His simple compliment felt like that first flicker; like a spark. This spark went straight into the pit of your stomach, though. When he tried to backpedal, it was like a baby deer, fumbling while trying to walk on ice; adorable.

You and Spencer first began texting that night. The texts rapidly turned into mini-essays back and forth, replying to the numerous topics of the previous lengthy text. Texting turned into nightly phone calls. What started out as a practical shift to save your fingers from falling off turned into your nightly comfort. In contrast to the quick glances you began to give each other at work, his voice, quiet and sleepy coming through the speaker on your phone, felt intimate. You knew you were getting a side of him that nobody else at work was getting. His walls fell down before your very eyes, and it was extremely hot.

Two weeks after the initial text, Spencer was in your apartment. Two hours after that, he was in your bed. Two months later (Spencer would remember exactly how many days) you had the “so what are we to each other?” conversation.

It was never just hooking up though. It had been more than that from the start and you both knew it.

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[temis-de-leon]

Day 20 - Kiss on the hand

Characters: Satan x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: emotional intelligence chases Satan, but he's way too fast. Sudden and kind of inappropriate discussion of marriage, established relationship, Satan implied to be taller

A/N: I think this is ooc, but my brain decided to ✨stop✨, so here it is. I still like it, tho

.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hm?”

MC usually liked when Satan fixed his eyes on them. His stare almost had an academic feeling to it, like he was actually observing and trying to answer questions only he knew, but MC never found themselves being scrutinized. He still looked at them with care and fascination and the glint his eyes wore whenever they shared a moment of comfortable silence reminded them of the human sea and the sunrays bouncing on the water surface.

It was a feeling of being home that only he could bring and MC was far too happy indulging in it.

But this time was different.

He was blushing, distracted by a thought in his mind that, judging by his face, was a rather embarrassing one. He mumbled, shook his head and blushed even more. Was he… arguing with himself?

They had to admit, Satan had been acting strange the whole night. Keeping them close, but not engaging in conversation, holding their chin and staring at their lips, but not kissing them. Showing off their relationship before his peers, flaunting MC’s accomplishments with pride without looking at them.

It wasn’t anger, no, Mc would’ve known had that been the case.

Satan was embarrassed about something. Something involving them.

But what?

“What do you mean?” he asked, interrupting their thoughts.

A horrible liar, he was, cheeks tainted in a deep red and voice strained.

“You haven’t looked at me for hours and now you can’t stop staring”

“Why, can’t I appreciate my partner’s beauty?”

A faint flash of aggravation crossed his features and MC was quick to smile and cup his face.

“Something’s been on your mind” they said gently, enjoying the softness of his skin “What is it?”

The song suddenly changed to an ever slower one and he made sure to discretely move them to the farthest corner of the venue. The bride and the groom, both friends of Satan, walked to the centre of the dancefloor amongst cheers and applauses, the very few lights of the room soon focusing on the newlywed couple and leaving the guests surrounded by darkness. Even though it was a warm summer night, MC hugged Satan’s waist and swayed to the music, smiling when he brought them closer and rested his cheek on their head.

“So?”

MC felt him sigh against their chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I haven’t forgot. It’s just… them”

He slightly turned his face, probably looking at his friends, and MC felt their heart give a violent jump. What was he actually talking about?

“Relax, MC” he said when he senses their tensed body, but that didn’t calm their nerves. Their fingers were tingling, cold sweat running down their back and the uneasiness making them tremble.

Please, please, tell them Satan wasn’t going to propose to them during his friends’ wedding.

“I hope your reaction doesn’t mean you reject the idea of marrying me”

They moved away just enough to be able to look at each other, his breath still reaching them. It had a faint smell of alcohol and MC deeply hoped his words weren’t being fuelled by the influence, though he’d been acting weird since the beginning of the night, before they started drinking.

His apprehensive gaze reminded them he had implied a very important question.

“This is the first time you’ve even mentioned marriage” they said, immediately clarifying themselves to not give the wrong impression “Not that I’m saying no, but this is… this is something!”

Despite talking in whispers, the sincerity and borderline ridiculousness of the conversation brought the attention of a couple of guests. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to catch the wedding party’s eye, but MC still looked at their boyfriend in panic.

“Yes, I agree, this isn’t the best moment, but I couldn’t get it out of my head”

The seriousness in his voice dried MC’s mouth. They wanted to be mad at him for bringing up such a serious topic in the worst possible scenario, but a part of them jumped in joy at the prospect of being with him forever. Of an official paper signed by Lord Diavolo making it clear to the rest of the world.

“Forgive me, MC, I shouldn’t have talked about it here and now”

He sighed once more, lifting their hand to his lips and kissing the back softly. His eyes stopped at their ring finger for a brief moment and MC’s breath hitched once more.

They didn’t talk much more for the rest of the party, too tired from all the dancing and the socializing and the discussing about potentially spending the rest of their lives together.

But they held each other and they kissed each other and, once they finally got home, they sat down on his bed and talked, not stopping until both of their faces hurt from smiling.

.

.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown @mehkers

[rubra-wav]

Butterfly demon reader pt. 2 - Wing care group hc/drabble-y

Cw: SFW, total fluff, gn!reader - in which Vaggie, Husk, and reader preen each other's wings

< Part 1

- In the beginning, Vaggie is hesitant to let you or Husk touch her wings. She just got them back, she doesn't want them to get harmed at all.

- However, not letting anyone help with upkeep would be leaving her wings even more vulnerable to damage. So she agrees to it eventually.

- The topic originally came up because Vaggie was concerned about your wings

- They are so delicate and prone to being damaged by so many things. If you even just brushed up against things accidentally and had too much of your scales come off it could be bad!

- Assuring her you had a lot and could replenish them after a certain amount of time didn't do much either.

- After the Angel's attacked the hotel, your wings were left tattered in places, and she had absolutely fretted over it. Helping you take care of them until they healed up.

- She was taken aback when you asked if you could help preen her own wings, but after some convincing let you.

- After she got over her initial hesitance and slight discomfort with having them touched, she couldn't lie that after so long, having delicate touches gently correcting her feathers and brushing them out felt incredible.

- That's how wing care group began.

- Every Monday at 8pm, you and Vaggie meet up for an hour (or more if it turns out that way) to help one-another clean and maintain one-another's wings.

- In these sessions you usually just talk about random stuff and gossip a bit.

- You make tea and snacks, and essentially just chill out together doing whatever.

- Sometimes other members of the hotel will join you two to do whatnot while you work on each other.

- One of these times is how you two rope Husk into it.

- You'd set up in the TV room (you usually met for it in your hotel room) because you saw a movie you thought Vaggie may have liked, and Husk was there watching you two go about stuff with disgust on his face from behind the bar.

- "Do you two have to do that shit here?" Husk asks with clear distaste.

- A remark he'd regret making because next thing he knows, you and Vaggie are picking him up by either arm guiding him into the seat of wing attentionTM and are sitting him down in it.

- He of course tries to get out of it, but you end up convincing him to stay miraculously.

- By the end of you two working to groom his wings, he's purring begrudgingly with the bitterest look on his face, trying to say he doesn't like it.

- You call his bullshit and he goes quiet with an even more sour look on his face.

- Despite 'not liking it', he ends up showing up next Monday again.

- He flips you off as you grin at him and say you were glad he was joining you two again.

- And that's how the three of you as your strange trio begin to weekly preen one-another. All the while getting in some great shit-talking and bitching sessions about stuff that's been going on in each of your lives.

- Other members of the hotel sometimes join in, but they don't ever get in as deep into the bond from it as you three share.

- Charlie often comes in to gawk and join in on your discussions, but usually doesn't consistently show as although she wants to be part of the stuff she sees this as really important bonding time just for the three of you (which is true)

- Angel sometimes comes in to the meetings while he's bored and wanting to bitch or asking Husk about the location of different booze in the bar.

- Pentious keeps trying to join you three saying you can help him with his tail and he'll help you with your wings, but it doesn't work as he isn't gentle enough with your wings the first time and ends up tearing one.

- The other two are extremely protective of you and your wings in particular, knowing first hand how easily they are harmed, so even with you saying it was fine with your wing slightly torn, the other two chuck him out.

- Niffty sometimes tries to crash the meeting to try get pieces of you, but the other two keep her from getting to you. You placate her with the excess feathers from the other two's wings and things your scales have brushed off onto. You don't tell the others about this.

- Alastor comes in to watch you all to make you uncomfortable even though he thinks it's gross.

- Especially Husk.

- You and Vaggie usually throw him out of there as soon as he randomly materialises in there without warning to be an asshole.

- It's an odd sight to see a fallen angel, an avian cat demon, and a butterfly demon preening each other, but the three of you become rather close due to it and you all would not have it any other way.

- You are all very protective of one-another after everything - especially Vaggie and Husk of you. If anything ever happens to you now, there's gonna be absolute hell to pay.

- You three all love the time you spend together every Monday night.

- Even if some people (Husk) would never admit it.

Rare fluff content from me 💀