#cw: implied discussion of CSA

[ansicred]

TANGLED UP IN YOUR SUMS

Hidden under their bed, Nesta comforts Ben through his PTSD and helps him realise that he can get better if he allows himself the grace to do so. Relationship Dynamics; Starts Angsty; Fluffy; Mental Hurt-Comfort. SETTING: In Ben & Nesta's house in the Whitechapel Supernatural District, London | Sometime in 2016. CHARACTER(S) INVOLVED: Ben, Nesta WARNING(S): cw: implication of CSA , implied discussion of CSA (in Ben's past at the Puppy Pen)

[mayasaura]

i hope u dont mind me asking but where is it implied john is a survivor of childhood sexual assault?

Yeah, I did kind of just throw that one out there, didn't I? The implication is spread out across a combination of John's backstory and behavior, especially in Nona the Ninth.

cw for discussion of sexual coercion, csa, and systemic abuse in an academic setting

Let's start with his behavior. Mercy and Augustine spent five hundred years planning Dios Apate Major down to the last detail. Luring John into bed was clearly not an easy thing to do at the time. And while a lot of worse stuff came to light in the big reveal scene in Harrow the Ninth to overshadow it, what Augustine and Mercy did was a violation of John's bodily autonomy and a form of sexual assault.

So where is that behaviour coming from?

The next time we hear from John, he's on a binge drinking hypersexual spiral, turning on a dime from five hundred years of near-celibacy to sleeping his way through the full cast and crew of the Erebos. I love a good "he fucked that old man" joke as much as the next guy, and I intend to keep making them, but that kind of zero to sixty manic behavior is a pretty common response to triggered sexual trauma. There's something happening there.

Very early on in Nona, John recites a list of his schools. First on that list is Dilworth. Dilworth is a private school for economically disadvantaged (read: poor, and majority indigenous) boys, and it has a reputation. To quote its wikipedia page:

John attended that school as an academically gifted gender non-conforming indigenous boy with no support network. His only known family died of pneumonia while he was enrolled. He was a vulnerable target in a high-risk environment.

A class action complaint is currently underway against Dilworth School seeking accountability and compensation from the school for knowingly failing to protect students from systemic sexual abuse that occurred between 1970 and 2006.

This wouldn't be enough to come to a conclusion if John were a real person, of course. If John were a real person, we'd be out of bounds in speculating. But he's not a real person, he's a character whose life and backstory were deliberately crafted. Name-checking Dilworth in John's backstory was a choice, and I think the implication is pretty clear.

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

I'm BACK, my Darlings!

Link to full AO3 fic

Tags and CW for this chapter: murder; rigged gladiator matches; the Baron being the fucking worst; mentions of child abuse/CSA/incest; the Bene Gesserit; mentions of smut/exhibitionism (no actual smut in this one, sorry there will be soon) early pregnancy; Feyd's mommy AND daddy issues; I take a couple of minor liberties with Feyd's birthday arena fight; blink-and-you'll-miss-it implied sexual assault; implied/references sex trafficking; Geidi Prime's culture; mentions of matricide

CHAPTER ELEVEN: HAPPY BIRTHDAY

You reach the box, noting that the more obscure sisters have sat in one section, while Margot and the Reverend Mother sit in the other booth, with room for you in between them.  All stand and turn to you when Idrisa announces your arrival.

Behind her veil you can see the Reverend Mother’s eyebrows raise at your dress, your painted-black lips.

“I imagine the na-Baron had a hand in your outfit?” she asks as you all sit down.

“He had an idea for how he wanted me to look on his birthday, your Reverence,” you say.  

“Have you spoken with him?”

“A little, your Reverence,” you tell her.  “I just finished helping him prepare.”

It’s safe to assume that she’ll be observing you as well as Feyd.  You wonder if she wonders how much leverage you’ve truly gotten with him.  You wonder if she’ll want the graphic details when the two of you speak in private later.  

“How did he seem?” she asks.

“While we haven’t discussed it much, he’s pleased about my recent development.  He seemed indifferent to the prospect of the match, however; he’s participated in so many since he turned eighteen I think it’s somewhat routine for him.”

“It’s reckless, sending the na-Baron into the arena when he’s only just secured the bloodline,” one of Bene Gesserit sisters says.

Both her Reverence and Margot glance your way in a silent invitation to explain your husband’s people’s customs.

“He’s in no danger, Sister,” you say.  “The na-Baron’s matches aren’t traditional matches so much as they’re executions.  His opponents aren’t fighting at full capacity, so it’s impossible for them to have the upper hand.”

“And you’ve seen these executions in practice?” she asks.

“Yes, Sister.  Just once, the night before my wedding,” you tell her.  It was ostensibly a gift, but meant to serve more as a warning .

“But these other matches…?” she starts.

“Are real,” you finish for her.  “The victor gains their freedom, should they survive.”

You explain the figures clad all in black, their faces obscured with headpieces resembling curved horns and armed with long hooks, as Picadors.  “They essentially act like sporting referees,” you tell them.  “But by and large they don’t interfere in any of these matches; just about everything is allowed.”

And then the festivities, as they were, begin.  The announcer’s voice is amplified so loud the echoes of it reverberate in your chest and nearly make your teeth rattle as he gives the name of not each individual fighter but their Houses and planets, succinct enough that anyone can understand, accompanied by the sound of drums. You can sense the distaste from some of the Sisters, the ones who sound younger, as the first match commences.  For your part you try to give nothing away, face schooled into a mask of neutrality, and keep silent other than to answer polite questions about your home world and how the cultural differences between it and Geidi Prime.  ( “Oh, there are many, Sister.  Our culture’s also militaristic and public executions aren’t uncommon but we don’t have arena fights like these.” ) There’s little audience bias from the crowd; they just want to see two men trying to kill each other.  The closest it gets is when a non-Harkonnen who’s nonetheless from Lankiveil is pitted against another fighter.  For a brief moment you assume that the crowd will favor the Lankiveil fighter.

That moment passes, because throughout the crowd many start shouting something that you’re pretty sure means “ traitor. ”  You shouldn’t be surprised that here, Abulurd Rabban’s defection hasn’t been forgiven, and neither has anyone who’s refused to fall in line with Harkonnen governorship in their claimed territories.  You wonder what Feyd thinks about that and watch as the Lankiveil man puts in some good offense–before one of the Picadors shuffles closer and catches him in either side of his neck with both hooks, leaving his opponent to finish the job.  As the man gurgles, blood spilling from his throat, you hear the loudest cheers so far.

Time narrows down to Feyd’s showing.  He’ll be armored by now, dressed, ready to make his first proper public appearance in a month, and even as the cheers die down from the past match and the blood is swept to the ends of the arena, the audience can feel it.  Horns sound, and you gasp as you notice what look like bursts of black plasma exploding in the air with splattering noises.  Fireworks, or the closest thing Geidi Prime has to it, stark against the plain white sky.

You’ve been practicing the Harkonnen language every day, but you’re far from fluent yet.  Not even conversational.  You understand only bits and pieces as the excitement in the announcer’s voice ramps up, booming throughout the colosseum. 

"Under sljdgkjo our ghiel black sun, we welcome iwelkgnle sljeifgwaln our beloved leader Baron Vladimir Harkonnen,” the voice booms. “His lwkejlw jkslanlwe fjldklwel of blood and honor, pwoerl the holy birthday of our beloved na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen!"

You hadn’t realized what the word for blood was a month ago when you saw your first arena match, or that that’s what the crowd was chanting for.  You feel a chill run down your spine as you keep your posture straight, your face impassive.  

“Do you know what they’re saying?” her Reverence asks.  You wonder if she knows the language and just wants to know how much you understand.

“Some, your Reverence,” you say.  “They’re introducing him now as the main attraction.”

And when the cheers get even louder, chanting Feyd’s name, you look down and there he is, moving in long-legged, purposeful strides with a blade in each hand.

You take a breath as you pull up your binoculars and watch as Feyd-Rautha takes to one knee, bowing deep in the direction of the Baron.

“He doesn’t bow to you?” one of the Sisters asks.  “You’re his wife.  You’re carrying his child.”

You shake your head.  “He wouldn’t.  That’s not how they do things here,” you tell her as you can’t look away from Feyd, who raises his head for a moment, trying to focus in on his face.  He looks up not at you, but at his uncle with a cold glare before rising and getting into stance.

As Feyd activates his shields, and you can’t help but think he looks reptilian under the Geidi Prime sun.  

“In celebration of our Na-Baron Feyd Rautha, we slheo a lwehfoew tueigh , the alsg three lsgjwoq of House Atreides.”

Atreides .  Geidi Prime managed to drag the last of the Atreides military into their dungeons, their fate to be drugged and killed in front of the House that caused their destruction.  A straightforward execution would be more dignified than this pretense of a match.

You can’t help the unease, even growing disgust brewing as you watch three doors slide open to reveal three men, all shirtless and wincing against the harshness of the infrared sun, and as Feyd’s eyes slide towards each door with a detached, calculating look.

You can sense the Bene Gesserit Sisters watching you, wondering what you actually think of your brute animal of a husband as you try your best to keep a straight face.

Two of the men are broader and bulkier than Feyd, not like it will make any kind of difference as they trudge forward, stumbling, trying to adjust their grips on their blades.

“Do you… like seeing this?”

You force yourself to stare ahead.  “It doesn’t matter if I like it or not, Sister,” you say.  “I’m expected to support my husband in this.”

Of course you don’t like seeing this.  But from the way Feyd paces, swift in his execution, gnashing his teeth and snarling like a beast desperate for a challenge and still riled up with pent-up energy, it doesn’t seem like he takes any satisfaction in doing this. 

He’d seemed like he was getting some amusement out of his last arena showing, playing with his opponents and taking as much time with them as he felt would be entertaining for the thousands of fans in the audience and disturbing for you and your family.  

He appears to get no such amusement now as he prowls, frustrated at the utter lack of challenge.  Maybe it’s because the chance to slaughter the greatest of his House’s enemies is hollow and unearned this way.  He’s an adult and yet the Baron’s been so quick to keep him safe from any real danger other than himself.  Maybe it’s finally getting to him that he’s not even expected to be able to beat members of the Atreides army in a fair fight, especially since it looks like the dungeon-masters selected burly, powerful-looking men for the spectacle even as the drugs render them weak and sluggish.

But then there’s the third man.  Although he’s leaner and, from what you can tell, older than the first two, as soon as he gets his bearings of the unforgiving Geidi Prime sun he strides forward confidently and with purpose.

That can’t be right , you think.

“That last fighter isn’t drugged,” Margot says, gaze sliding over to you as if to ask, Did you know about this?

“No, it would appear that he isn’t,” you tell her as your heart speeds up and you can feel yourself blanche.  “They must’ve been keeping him healthy for this.”

“Do you know why?” another woman asks.

“I do not,” you admit.  Maybe Feyd wanted a proper challenge.  Maybe he wanted to grace his audience with a real fight this time to show his own merits.

But then you zero in on Feyd and the flash of open incredulity on his face as he tilts his head and seems to realize the situation, when the soldier swipes and evades him with far more ease than the others, gets in a strike to the chest that would’ve killed him without his shield.  You’re pretty sure that had he not been distracted with the first two soldiers he would’ve noticed the difference immediately.

Feyd didn’t plan this .

You look, horrified, across the arena into the Baron’s stadium box.  The Baron doesn’t notice you, of course, but he smirks as he glances down into the arena.

What’s the purpose of this, you sick, awful man? you want to ask him.  Are you trying to get him killed?

You look back down at Feyd, who you realize must’ve been looking at his uncle thinking the same thing before he looks back at his opponent, who he fixes with a smile.  The monochrome landscape makes his black teeth look nonexistent within the cavern of his mouth as he acknowledges the Atreides fighter, turns off his shield, and unclips it from his armor for everyone to see before tossing it and his second blade to the ground.

You want a fair and honest fight, you’ll get a fair and honest fight, he seems to tell his opponent, the Baron, everyone in the audience.  The two begin to circle one another, reevaluating each other and the best way to strike.  The Picadors step in closer. 

You inhale, exhale, in the second before their match starts in earnest.  He’s been training since he was a little boy; he spars every day.   He’ll be fine, you think, as Feyd and the Atreides soldier look each other in the eye.  You’ve seen him do drills before; he’s well-coordinated.

You’ve never seen him like this.

He’s fast.  He’s good .  You’d taken it for granted that of course, he’d be competent with a weapon, but you’ve never seen him properly fight before.  You hadn’t realized how graceful and swift he is, a good match for the lean and limber soldier he’s fighting, who goes on offense with the hatred and desperation of a man with nothing left to lose but the chance to take one last Harkonnen down with him.

Feyd looks like he’s having the time of his life.  

The smile never quite leaves his face as he counters every move, and you’re sure there’s an excited gleam in his eye that your binoculars can’t quite pick up.  He smirks and winks at the other fighter, like this is a fun, improvised dance rather than a fight to the death.  Almost like he’s flirting.

Your heart pounds.  The Atreides fighter’s undeniably skilled, has all the same strengths as Feyd, and has adjusted quickly to the unpleasant atmosphere and harsh light of the Geidi Prime sun, not to mention the Picadors taunting him with their prowling.  No other opponent would do to make Feyd seem like a genuinely credible fighter.  You watch as Feyd sweeps the legs out from under the Atreides soldier and go in for the kill, only for his opponent to evade him and get back up to resume fighting.

You wince as one of the Picadors pierces the Atreides soldier’s shoulder blade with their hook, thinking, That will make Feyd look weak.   Feyd must be thinking the same thing, because the moment the soldier cries out in pain Feyd snarls and bellows at the Picadors for their interference. Like cockroaches they recoil and scatter, releasing the soldier and leaving just a small piece of metal lodged there, presumably to keep the man from bleeding out before Feyd has the chance to kill him.  No interference, no cheating, no advantages.  Man to Man .

It’s not lost on you how inhuman Feyd looks, especially against his opponent.  You also don’t care; you just need him to win, you think as Feyd disarms the Atreides soldier, only for the ensuing scuffle to land them both in the sandy ground, grappling for the remaining blade.

For a moment they’re both flat on their backs, and in that moment, you realize that the soldier has the blade and the upper hand as they both slowly get up, locking in, equal force and resistance in a perverse embrace. 

The blade’s so close to Feyd’s eye; the Picadors encircle them but don’t dare get any closer as he keeps the tip mere centimeters away.  You can’t breathe, your sweaty hands shaking as you clench one fist in the skirt of your dress and force yourself to hold the binoculars with the other as you watch Feyd, from his coiled frame to his narrow face and can hardly believe what you see as you flutter the setting in closer.

He’s laughing .

And then he stops laughing as he pulls the knife to the side, past his head, turns it around in their combined grip and plunges it into the other man’s stomach.

The moment lasts for what feels like years, the Atreides soldier’s expression turning from shock to disbelief to growing horror as the light starts to fade from his eyes.  You think Feyd says something to him as he gently cradles the man’s face with one hand, as if he’s trying to reassure him even as his other hand has a blade wedged in him, and you’d give anything to know what he’s saying.

And then the other soldier’s dead, finally going limp, and Feyd pulls the knife out, getting up and showing it to all of the arena.  The crowd erupts into elated, blood-thirsty cheers that don’t let up as he silently strides away, one arm still raised in victory.  The fireworks go into a frenzy as the crowd chants Feyd-Rauth-A! like the beat of a war-drum.

It’s not until Feyd’s returned to the Colosseum's underbelly like a monster that was summoned from it only to return from the bowels of the underworld from whence he came, that anyone in your booth finally speaks.

“Your husband is impressive, indeed” Lady Margot says.

You won’t see Feyd for a while; apparently he is to bathe and change before having a private meeting with the Baron, while you are to speak privately with her Reverence, at least according to the attendant who leads the other Bene Gesserit back to the guest wings to rest before the upcoming celebrations.

Maybe the Baron will provide a decent explanation for surprising his nephew with an opponent who actually stood a shot at killing him .

Idrisa trails behind you and the Reverend Mother as house servants lead you to a room with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows offering an excellent view of the black sun and sky that from the interior resembles a sickly gray.  More servants come in with herbal tea with lemon for the two of you and you sit in silence for a moment, the Reverend Mother ignoring her tea as she watches you and you let her, wondering what information you’re giving her in your fixed posture and delicate sip from your cup.  You glance over at Idrisa, who stands in the corner with her head bowed.  

“Your husband’s showing in the arena was quite revealing,” her Reverence finally says.  Even more than your dress .

“I apologize.  I had no say or knowledge of the fight.   I don’t believe the na-Baron did, either,” you tell her.

“The Baron acted in an unorthodox manner,” her Reverence says.

“I’m sure he must have been confident in the na-Baron’s odds of winning in a fair fight, even if it was...a high risk,” you say, trying to sound diplomatic and keep the anger and desperation out of your voice, “to put him in such a situation.  Surely he must know how important the na-Baron’s role is both for the sake of Geidi Prime and for his service to you.”

Her Reverence almost smiles.  “We’d prefer to keep the na-Baron alive as long as we reasonably can; he has the markings of a Great House leader, and of course your safety is more intact with his protection, but our main requirement of him is securing a son, and he’s accomplished that.”

Were her words supposed to be comforting?  Your hands feel clammy and sweaty as you try not to wring them in your skirt.

“Yes, of course, your Reverence.  I agree, I’m safer with him, much as I found that hard to believe at first.  We’re,” you hesitate, “more compatible than I think either of us anticipated.”  You try not to blush as you say it, can’t quite look her in the eye.  

“Even powerful men are malleable,” the Reverend Mother says.

“He and I spend time together outside of the marriage bed as well, so I think he likes my company well enough,” you add.  

You can hear your mother’s voice clear as day in your own head, warning you, Think very carefully about what you’re going to say and who you’re saying it to .

You find the words as if sounding them out, “Still, I cannot help but be concerned,” you say, “about the role the Baron will play in my children’s lives, especially any sons I’ll have.” 

You realize that she knows what you mean without you having to say it as she hardly blinks.  “The Baron’s health has been declining steadily over the years,” she says.  “It appears that as of late he hasn’t quite had the stamina to indulge in some of his baser inclinations.”

So you also knew and let it happen?  Did Feyd not have a single adult in his life actually looking out for him?  Revulsion swirls in the pit of your stomach.  “All the same, I don’t want to take that risk,” you tell her.  

The Reverend Mother’s gaze grows sharper.  “Walls have ears, young one,” she says, and you recoil, briefly.  For a woman who must be at least seventy, even without using the Voice on you she intimidates you more than most men you’ve met. 

“I understand, your Reverence,” you say quickly.  “But if I’m to provide my firstborn son everything he needs to grow into the man he’s meant to be, everything you need for him to serve you and the Empire, then he’ll need a safer upbringing than that of his father.”

The Reverend Mother purses her lips for a moment, and you try not to wince, realizing how transparent and sophomoric your attempt at manipulation is.  Still, you’re desperate.  She can sense it, and lets you stew in your own juices for a moment.

“Feyd-Rautha’s father was and remains reviled on Geidi Prime,” she says eventually.  “Elsewhere he’s seen as a decent man brave enough to distance himself from a cruel House and forge his own path.  And yet he was still cut down in his forties, his legacy erased.  Much like the Duke of Atreides recently.”

Why are you telling me this? you want to ask.  Are you implying that it’s better that Feyd was raised by a pedophile than by a pacifist?

“Tell me this, do you honestly feel you have his devotion?” she asks.

You want to say a definitive yes.  You think about how he holds you close at night, remember him nestled against you.  You think about how diligently he trains you, insists on eating with you, encourages you learning to speak his language with him when he could ignore you except to come inside of you whenever he so chooses.  “I…I think so?” is what you manage, though, when you think of his fervent loyalty to an uncle you’re pretty sure he despises.  “I think I’m getting there, earning it,” you add.  “I know part of his wedding vows was to keep me safe and I think he intends to keep it.  But he is still Harkonnen.”  And the Harkonnen who taught him all about politics has devotion to no one but himself .

You expect the Reverend Mother to berate you for your only middling success for a moment.  Instead, and whether it’s to comfort you or for her own purpose, she picks her tea up, considering it but never lifting her veil to actually drink it.  “The Baron did everything in his power to mold Feyd-Rautha exactly to him.  In the mind, anyway.  And in some ways he succeeded.”  He took a seven-year-old boy and turned him into a bloodthirsty sociopath like him , she doesn’t need to say.  “But I’ve heard and now have finally seen it for myself that despite all this, he has a sense of honor.  And that comes from Abulurd Rabban, a decent man who loved the family he chose and forged for himself.” 

Your throat feels dry as you think about how this woman has shared more about Feyd’s father than Feyd ever has, and yet your tea sits forgotten on the table in front of you.  Your heart beats faster.  You try and find the words.

“So…if my husband had to make the choice between mine and my children’s safety…and his uncle’s demands…”

“I think you know,” the Reverend Mother says.  “The Baron’s time is coming to a close, once he’s served his purpose.”

“And what,” you clear your throat.  “What is that, exactly?”  

“Laying the groundwork for his nephew’s success,” her Reverence says.  “Lady Fenring told you about how we tested your husband.”

“Yes, your Reverence,” you tell her.

Her gaze pierces through her veil as she looks at you.  “It’s not just a test to determine pain tolerance, or self-control.  It’s a test to determine if someone has elevated themselves above their animal nature.  Neither the Baron nor Rabban have ever taken such a test,” she says.  “Neither of them would survive.”

You look at each other, an understanding settling in between the two of you.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look towards the door, which opens to reveal two guards and Feyd, who’s changed into long robes that cover him from his Adam’s apple to his boots.

He inclines his head towards the Reverend Mother.  “Your Reverence,” he says, the gesture polite but his tone clipped.

“I trust your meeting with your uncle was enlightening?” she asks as you both rise to stand.

“It certainly was, your Reverence,” he says, and you can sense an unspoken topic simmering under the surface, something you’re not yet privy to.  Something they haven’t shared with you yet .  But you’ll find out.  If you’re to play a part in their greater schemes, all the plans within plans that they make, you need to know what you’re in for.

“I understand your festivities are imminent,” the Reverend Mother says.  “So I’ll take my leave.”  She practically glides past the servants on her way out.

Before she leaves, though, she turns to Feyd once more.  “Oh, and congratulations on winning your match,” she adds.  

Feyd shakes his head when a servant wordlessly offers him a fresh cup of tea and looks back at you.

“It’s a shame we won’t be alone for long,” he says.  “Uncle wants us in the banquet hall soon for my celebration dinner.”

“Did he provide an explanation for what he did earlier?” you ask him.  

Feyd says nothing for a moment, compressing his lips into a thin line.  “I saw the look on both your faces,” you tell him.  “No one told you about the undrugged soldier; your uncle ambushed you.”

“He claimed it was a birthday gift, the chance to prove to my people that I’m a warrior and not an entertainer.”  He seems to hesitate before adding, “It’s far from the worst gift he’s ever given.”

That I very much believe.  “You accomplished it,” you tell him.

And then he adds, “The other gift is governorship of Arrakis.”  

You do a double take, hoping you heard wrong.  “You’re replacing Rabban?” you ask.  

“They’ll announce it soon,” he says.  “He’s been hemorrhaging both spice and soldiers.  It’s embarrassing.”

“Does he know?” you ask.

“He’ll find out soon enough,” Feyd says.  

Then you’ll be gone , you think, heart sinking.  I don’t want to be left alone with the Baron here .  “I’m coming with you.”

“You’re to do no such thing,” he says.  “I won’t bring you and our son into enemy territory in the middle of war; it’s too dangerous.”

“The Reverend Mother said herself that I’m safer with you,” you tell him.  You feel yourself flush, desperate and angry.  I need help.  I need protection.  Everyone says they’re looking out for my and my child’s safety and yet they deprive me of what I really need .  You can hear yourself raising your voice as you say, “No offense, husband, but you’re the only Harkonnen man that I trust.”

Feyd reaches out and you flinch before he can cup your face in one hand, his eyes darting across your face.  Your breath comes faster, straining against the straps that barely cover your breasts.  You think about the Litany Against Fear and think, no.  He needs to know that I’m scared .

“No harm will come to you,” he says.  “Not here, especially not after your pregnancy’s announced.  The people will be overjoyed to know we’ve succeeded in continuing the Harkonnen line.  The first royal birth on Geidi Prime in over sixty-five years.”  His hands move to your waist.  “You’ll have the best medical care the planet has to offer.  I’ll keep in correspondence with you whenever I have the time.”

He leans in closer, gently presses his forehead against yours.  “Make no mistake, Y/N Harkonnen,” he says.  “I wouldn’t be separated from you if I didn’t think there was a risk.”  You exhale, closing your eyes.  

“Ever since I’ve come of age I’ve been used for spectacle, ornamentation.  Fighting rigged matches with no real risk, used as a mascot and an image and not for what I was made to do.

“But now I get to live my purpose; I get to extend the Harkonnen line, I get to lead my men into battle.  For the first time I have real responsibilities and I’m going to fulfill them.”

You listen to his words, hear the conviction in his voice, and think about how there’s a part of Feyd not molded by the most cruel and depraved parts of this planet; an albeit twisted honor code, a sense of loyalty.  Perhaps the Reverend Mother was right in thinking it comes from his father, because it’s not his uncle or brother.

“Will I see you again before our son is born?” you ask.

He moves his hands to yours, taking them in his grasp.  “I swear it,” he says.  “And I swear I’ll never allow any harm to come to you and our children.”

Would you kill the Baron for us? you want to ask, knowing you can’t.  Not here, not now.  But soon.  

Do you have his devotion? 

Yes.  I’m certain.

“Now,” he says, pulling away.  “Tonight, we make our first public appearance as husband and wife since the wedding.  You said something last night about your years of training for the political aspects of marriage?”

“We wish to thank you all for attending my dear nephew’s twenty-sixth birthday,” the Baron says, hovering in a manner that makes him loom over even the tallest of heads as all stand, him at the seat of honor and his nephew on his right side and you beside his nephew.  Of all the Bene Gesserit guests, only the Reverend Mother and Margot are here for the banquet.  You imagine the always-veiled Sisters have to eat in the privacy of their quest quarters.  You notice Count Fenring as one of the distinguished guests–he must’ve only arrived today.  The age difference between him and his wife is all the more noticeable when you see them together.  There are other non-Harkonnen guests--it is a prominent birthday for a member of a prominent House, after all, but for the most part it remains, like in the arena, a sea of bald heads and black fabric.

Before anyone is permitted to sit down and eat, the Baron calls for a toast.  Everyone else has wine, and the ruby-red juice in your own wine glass looks enough like the real thing that people won’t ask questions yet.  We’ll give it a few weeks time, you think.  Stagger the news in between this and when Feyd’s officially given governorship of Arrakis.  Wait until a test from a Harkonnen doctor can confirm it and then we can announce it to all of Harko .

“To the na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, and to his prosperous future!” the Baron says, raising his glass and taking one long sip as everyone cheers Feyd, and finishes his sip with a flourish before passing his glass to a servant to set down on the table for him.  His thin lips are already tinged red as he turns to his nephew, takes Feyd’s face in one hand, holding his chin, and presses a quick kiss to his lips.  Feyd doesn’t react beyond a slight twitch of his jaw.  You look down to stifle a flinch.

“Now, let us truly celebrate,” the Baron adds, and people cheer again in response.

When you all sit down Feyd turns to you, takes two fingers under your chin and raises your lips to his.  It’s not a passionate kiss, probably won’t even smear your lipstick, but it’s a slightly longer kiss than the one he just had from his uncle.

Maybe it’s for show; he wants to pass on the image of obedience.  Maybe he wanted to get the taste of his uncle off his lips.  You see the Baron look at you with a brief look of distaste before the food and drink can distract him and the courses can start flowing.

Either weddings by design are much more formal and quieter on Geidi Prime than birthday parties or the Baron wanted to show as much decorum as possible towards your House for the one occasion.

The banquet makes up for a small portion of the evening, quickly giving way to drinks and more food passed around as people disperse from tables to either stand around in the middle of the room or lounge on chaises and oversized armchairs that line the walls.  The fireworks continue in earnest outside, while inside people feed on delicacies passed around on trays and drink wine out of goblets and harsher liquors out of metal tumblers.  You make do with distilled water and sips of the same wine-colored juice from dinner.

Generals and off-world politicians alike toast Feyd both in the Imperial Standard and Harkonnen Battle Language.  Once again Feyd stiffens in the presence of Margot Fenring perhaps even worse with the Count present, his interactions with both of them polite but tense on his own end.  He never directly looks at her, you notice.  Funny thing, she doesn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable at his coldness.  Neither does her husband.

( “Isn’t it strange,” you overhear one of the Harkonnen captains say to another, “That they have three daughters together and I hear none of them look like him.” )  

You try to file away the growing discomfort of it.  I’ll unpack it later, you think, as today’s discoveries have been pretty illuminating towards why your husband claims to dislike the Bene Gesserit.  You try not to dwell on it for now, just trying to act the part of the demure and effortlessly poised political wife.  With Harkonnens you stay silent, to the side and slightly behind Feyd.  With other Houses you engage a bit more, agreeing with the compliments people give Feyd, who for his part plays the statesman rather well.  The Baron has, much as you hate to admit it, a level of wit that if he were another man you might occasionally find charming, but it’s always clearly manufactured.  While he still carries an intimidating presence, Feyd uses his combination of quick-thinking and brevity to his advantage.  He offers the occasional wry quip among the required pleasantries.  You think to yourself that, despite superficial appearances, the two of you make a decent-looking couple.

That said, you do catch a few people frowning at your hair, clearly wondering why Feyd hasn’t insisted on shaving it all off.

Yeah, well, not that it’s any of your business, but he happens to love my hair and can’t keep his hands off of me , you think, offering a polite smile and raised brow at one such bewildered-looking Harkonnen man, who quickly looks away to avoid being caught staring at the na-Baron’s wife.

Through it all slaves either mill around or weave in and out silently bearing trays either to serve food and drink or to take away used glasses.  They’re discreet, as they’re meant to be, but you can’t help but notice a couple of differences, things you’re certain hadn’t been present at your wedding reception.

Some of the slave girls who stand against the wall are in transparent dresses under which they’re all nude.  A few don’t look like some of the attendants you’ve seen; they’re curvier, with distinct markings you can see under the gauzy fabric.  There are also a few men, young and fit, wearing only loincloths.  Their body types also range in size, some slight and lean, some built with thicker, denser muscle.  You glance over as a Harkonnen soldier approaches one of the men with his wife trailing behind him.  It doesn’t surprise you that the higher-ranking women only ever approach any of them in the company of their husbands, but that when they do it’s not for one specific type.  Women, men, both appear to get used.  You glance at Feyd, who seems indifferent to it all; politely accepting congratulations on his arena match and happy birthday wishes.  He must be used to the implied debauchery of it all.

After a while it starts becoming uncomfortable, standing around in boots meant more for ornamentation than practicality, and Feyd senses it.

“Come now, wife, I think we’ve earned a bit of a sit-down,” he says, as if you also fought in the arena earlier instead of just standing for a while, and gives you his arm to guide you to an armchair wide enough to serve as a couch.

“Thank you,” you whisper in his ear as you sit down, before he sits down beside you and wordlessly pulls you into his lap.  In your surprise you shift, trying to make sure that you don’t expose any more skin than you already have, pulling the skirt of your dress over the slit along your thigh and hoping your breasts don’t fall out of the scraps of fabric meant to cover them.  Feyd doesn’t seem to care in the slightest, his hand coming to rest over your ribcage.

You weren’t entirely sure how he’d present you, but weren’t expecting him to have you front and center, silently demanding that all who approach him show their respects to you as well.  Maybe if things were different he'd have you kneeling on the floor beside the chair like an obedient dog.  Maybe the thought occurred to him; probably, if it occurred to you.  You shake the thought loose, wondering something else.

“What’s the informal term for ‘ father ’ in your language?  I haven’t been able to find it.”  Not that you can quite picture Feyd ever actually playing with any of his children, but the idea of it, the idea of all of you in a reasonably normal family, is a nice one you’d like to keep with you.

“There isn’t one,” Feyd says.  “It’s just ‘vasta. ’”

You frown.  “Nothing more casual than that?  Something a child would use?”

“Nothing,” he says.  “It’s either ‘vasta’ or ‘ father .’”

You consider this.  “So there’s no equivalent to something like ‘ Papa? ’ That’s what I called my father almost exclusively until I was four or five.”

“So did I,” Feyd says.  “But Lankiveil’s different from Geidi Prime.  Or it was until Rabban took over and started using it as a Harkonnen outpost.”

You pull back to get a better look at his face.  He’s never talked about his father, nor Lankiveil other than the once, and that had been at your prompting.  “You did?”

He looks at you as if he isn’t sharing something more intimate about his childhood than anything he’s ever discussed with you.  “That surprises you?”

“A little,” you admit.  “It’s easy to forget you had such a different life from this once.”

“It is, after enough years of separation,” he says.

You’re not sure quite what to say to that.  You think about how reviled the name of his father is on Geidi Prime, how begrudgingly respected he is on other planets.  You think about what the Reverend Mother told you, the information she gave you that Feyd never has and wonder if he ever will, or if like in matters of the bedroom, he needs to get to know you better before he shows you that kind of vulnerability.

But then he nuzzles against your hair, the shell of your ear, and you notice that in certain corners, seemingly unnoticed, some couples are getting closer and there are fewer of what you must assume are Fortress pleasure slaves than there were before.  Feyd has a tumbler glass of a harsh-smelling amber liquid that might be one of your parents’ birthday gifts in one hand, but the other holds you to him.

You think about that one morning in the Training Halls when he’d fucked you against the wall as everyone had been dismissed but aware of what the two of you were up to.  You doubt he will, but it also wouldn’t surprise you if he’s thought about pulling his cock out and having you sit on him for the entire party to see.

Maybe after he’s crowned you’ll do it–not in front of an audience, but in private after the throne’s been thoroughly disinfected you’ll take him inside of you while he sits on it.

He sets his glass down on the side table and lays his hand on your stomach, low on your belly, just where the tight bodice ends.  He brushes his thumb along the material.

“I’m glad to finally show you off,” he says, voice quiet enough that no one will hear except anyone foolish enough to try and eavesdrop on him.  “The picture of a Harkonnen bride.”

“Even with the hair and eyebrows?” you ask.

“Anyone who has a problem with it has to answer to me,” Feyd says.  “You are exactly as I want you; poised, capable, carrying my child.”  He slides a hand under the slit in your dress.  “Just curious, what sort of undergarment are you wearing under this?”

You feel yourself flush, a nervous laugh escaping you.  “About that…” you start, leaving the implication clear.  There’s another reason you’ve been sitting and standing so carefully all day.

Feyd’s eyes blaze.  “Because you want me to be a gentleman, I’ll wait until we’re in private before I rip this off of you and leave you in nothing but your necklace.”

“Trying to be a gentleman?  Is that the only reason why?” you ask, still flustered, trying to keep up.  The other bodies inhabiting this vast space are far easier to ignore this way.

“No,” he says simply.  “None of these people deserve to see you moaning as you take my cock like the beautiful, desperate cockslut that you are.  It’s only a twenty-minute walk to get back to my bedroom.  Fifteen if we walk briskly, and that’s about how long I’ll be able to last without being inside of you.”  He shifts you in his arms like he means to carry you and another giggle escapes you.  

“Leaving your own birthday party?” you ask.

“The party’s become a full Bacchanalia,” Feyd says, the Cupid’s bow of his upper lip turned up in a coy smile.  “I hardly think anyone will notice if we slip away.”

You smile back, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, picturing all the positions you’ll only be able to fuck in for another few months, before you start to swell.  You think about your breasts crushed against his solid chest, his abdomen against yours when he kneels and pulls you on top of him.  

“Alright,” you tell him.  “For the sake of propriety–”

“My apologies, my lord and lady na-Baron and na-Baroness, for the interruption,” a voice says, and you startle away, jerking your head towards an embarrassed-looking man in gray robes–a servant, to be sure, but a higher-ranking one.  He keeps his head inclined, eyes on the floor, and you’re certain it’s out of awkwardness just as much as respect.  “I have a message from the Baron.”

“What,” Feyd says, looking like he wants to rise from his seat and sucker-punch the messenger in the stomach.

“The Baron requires a private audience with the na-Baroness.”

Why? Your mouth opens in silent question and you furrow your brow.  You look at Feyd, whose expression is thunderous.  A muscle feathers in his jaw.  You turn to look back at the servant, knowing that no matter how much you don’t want to, there’s only one acceptable response.  “I accept.  When?”

“Presently, Na-Baroness,” he says.  

Feyd holds you tighter for a moment.  “What was his reason?” he demands.

“To congratulate her on her success so far and inquire about her health,” the messenger says.

You sigh and disentangle yourself from Feyd.  The mood had soured the moment the messenger showed up and mentioned your uncle-in-law; Feyd will be able to wait a little longer.  

The Baron’s lounging in his private throne room, with what looks like a hookah in one hand and a large goblet of wine in the other.  Two guards flank him, their heads downturned, but other than them you’re alone.  You curtsy as discreetly as your dress will allow as you acknowledge him and keep your head down.  Ostensibly it’s out of respect but you’re honestly grateful to not have to look at him any more than required.

“Congratulations on your new development, young Y/N,” he says after your show of deference.  “The Bene Gesserit are most pleased with you.” 

“Thank you, Baron,” you say, keeping your gaze on the floor.

“You’ve satisfied my nephew,” the Baron adds, setting both the wine and hookah down on either side of him.

“That pleases me to hear, Baron,” you say, trying to feel proud of how you’re not taking the bait even though you know he’s enjoying his ability to embarrass a woman from a Greater House.  You wish you could control the heat burning in your cheeks and ears.  I hate you, you think.

“As your condition progresses and after you bear the child, I’m sure he’ll do his best to temper his…biases…against mothers for your sake,” the Baron adds.  “Although it runs deep within him.”

You can’t help but look up at him in confusion.  What biases?  Feyd’s never mentioned his mother once.  Never mentioned any of what he’s been through.  

The Baron sees your confusion and his smile when he realizes the added power he has over you is truly awful to look at.

“Did my nephew not tell you about his mother?  I suppose I can’t be surprised.  He must not have wanted to upset your delicate sensibilities.”

You had her killed so you could keep him isolated.  So you could keep molesting him without interference.  I know you, you sick bastard .  And if you’re threatening me I swear on my family’s legacy I will find a way to make you suffer for it .

“He has not, Baron,” you tell him.  “He doesn’t speak of her.”  

The Baron tilts his head as much as his jowls will allow.  “So you know nothing of her?” he asks.

“I know she was a member of the Bene Gesserit,” you tell him.  “I know my husband and Rabban were the only children she produced with your brother.  I know she took your brother’s surname and was known as Emmi Rabban.  I know she’s been dead for nearly twelve years.”

The Baron straightens up a little, eyes glinting.  “So you did some research, and yet you don’t understand my comment about Feyd’s issue with mothers.”

“I can imagine the separation from her at such a young age must have taken a toll on him,” you say.  Maybe created some attachment issues, you don’t say.  You don’t want to offer up any more vulnerability, especially not on Feyd’s part.

“So you know she died when Feyd was fourteen,” he says.

“Yes, Baron.  Shortly after his attempt on your life.”  

“And what,” he asks, “based on what you’ve read, do you think her cause of death was?”

Your mouth feels dry.  He’s trying to provoke you.  Try not to let it show that it’s working .  “She was killed by Harkonnens,” you manage.

The Baron sits forward as much as his bulk will allow, looking happier than perhaps you’ve ever seen him before.  “ A Harkonnen, some claim.  One who was young and impulsive and carrying a grudge against his mother for sending him away.  But we cannot prove that, since no culprit was ever convicted, so we’ll never truly know, will we?”

You hear your own gasp as if it’s happening from outside of your body.  Pressure builds behind your eyes.  The words, I don’t believe you , die before they can reach your lips.

The Baron looks downright gleeful now.  “I can see why my dear nephew finds you so amusing.  You really had no idea?”

You lower your head, mouth opening and closing.  

Do not cry.  Under no circumstances are you to ever cry in front of this man .

It’s awful.  It’s so horrifying it never occurred to you and yet it also makes a sick kind of sense that makes you wish you could vomit out the information the Baron’s just given you, purge it from your mind and go back to several minutes ago, when even with such unexplored territory ahead of you at least you felt a level of safety, even optimism.

“The coroners say she was stabbed in the neck four times,” he adds and that’s the moment he wins and you feel yourself begin to double over, letting out a sob before covering your mouth and belatedly realizing that you’ve wrapped one arm around your belly.  Stop.  Please just stop, you want to say, and no words come out but tears do.

The door opens and the Baron’s eyes flicker to something behind you.  

“Feyd!” he calls out.  “What excellent timing.  We were just talking about you.”

You slowly turn, not wanting to look at either of them and needing to know.  Tell me it’s not true, Feyd.  Please tell me that it’s a sick joke .

Feyd inhales sharply when he sees the look on your face and glares back at his uncle.  His expression, looking stricken and then quietly furious, is his admission of guilt.

“I must say I’m a little surprised, nephew,” the Baron says and your ears ring as you see that beyond the now-opened door the servant who’d brought you here now lays motionless, bleeding out on the floor.  “I’d assumed you’d want to be honest with your delicate wife about your history, even the less savory bits.”

“You try to poison my own wife against me,” Feyd snaps.

“I’m not doing anything that wouldn’t have happened anyway, nephew,” the Baron says, reaching for his hookah again.  “She’s not stupid; she was bound to figure it out eventually, even if you were never going to tell her.”

He wasn’t , you think.  Would he have lied if I’d bothered to ask?  Or just hoped that I’d never be curious?  

Feyd looks at you.  Neither of you speak.  What is there to say?  You can’t think of anything.  You turn and start walking, needing air, needing to get away.  Feyd reaches for your arm as you pass him and you wish you were Bene Gesserit so you could properly use the Voice on him when you scream, “ No! ”  All the same he drops his hand, flinching, silent, as you leave the room with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Behind you, distantly, you hear the Baron chuckle.  “Make sure you’ve properly tamed your pet before you tame Arrakis, Feyd.  Oh, and happy birthday again.”

That is all for now but I am very much back and at close to 100k words.

Tagged: @alexandrainlove @richardslady121 @wo-ming-bai @blazeflays @cavillandevanssandwhich

For anyone else who'd like to be tagged please lmk!

[deathdetermineslife]

(TW: I*cest mentions)

First, I'm saying this disclaimer because I've been told that I sound shitty sometimes in text. So, to avoid tonal confusion: This is a genuine question born from confusion, nothing else.

You selfship with a Danganronpa character who is in an incestuous relationship, who has dialogue acknowledging the i*cest and saying they don't care and still want to pursue it, but you also have 'pr*ship dni' on your profile? (I'm also anti-pr*ship, just so we're clear.) I'm just a little confused as to why? Isn't it super uncomfortable to selfship with a character who canonically has those views?

(cw for discussions of incest, abuse, and implied csa)

I understand your question comes from a place of confusion but genuinely. this is quite rude. considering you could have just... took a trip to his tags and gathered that he's a victim. also, this is very plainly said on his wiki.

however I will indulge you, in case anyone else who follows me was wondering this.

Kiyo's an example of an imperfect victim. he acknowledges that people "don't understand" the relationship he has with her, but at the same time, acts like this is the most normal thing in the world. this is how abuse works.

I don't talk about his sister very often here for obvious reasons (because she's an abuser), but I'll lightly touch on why shes abusive, even though he never says she is. another thing; just because someone (real or fictional) doesn't claim they were abused, doesn't mean they weren't. and also, just because the writers didn't intend to write him as a victim doesn't mean he isn't. intention ≠ interpretation. not the best example (since I just woke up) if someone decided to make a character who looked like a dog, acted like a dog, and sounded like a dog, but they insisted the character was a human, would that make them a human? no that's a fucking dog. so, keep that in mind. just because he never says he's a victim doesn't mean he isn't.

we don't know much about his sister other than she's sick, she's older than him, and he kills people for her. he says in this trial that since she was so sick and couldn't form relationships with other people that he had to act as her brother and her boyfriend. after her death, he started killing people to send to her in the afterlife to befriend her. that idea doesn't just... pop into your head. there's not solid proof that she manipulated him into this (other than. you don't just. wake up one morning and go "I'm gonna kill ppl to send to my dead sister"), however, we do know she controlled him in other ways, like how she made his entire uniform for him, saying his previous one "didn't suit him". this also helps defend against the "well if shes so sick, how is she abusive?"she could hand make an entire uniform for him. also, anyone can be abusive. that's a peculiar rhetoric to spread around.

another thing you don't just wake up one morning and do is engage in an incestuous relationship with your older sister. incest does not exist in a vacuum. incest is also inherently abusive because of the power dynamics. she's older than him, clearly holds some significant amount of control over him so much so that he changes his entire appearance based on her whims, and also, influenced him to become an anthropologist. he does credit her for this. and like I said, incest does not happen in a vacuum. incest between siblings most commonly occurs under extreme forms of parental neglect. not only does he never mention his parents a single time, but when she speaks through him (which I'll get to), she doesn't either. that supports the idea that, at the very least, his parents weren't around enough to know what was happening. the only person he could rely on growing up was her. clearly, his parents weren't in the picture, and still aren't.

his sister also literally fucking possessed him. so there's that. in canon, he says that she "visited him when he was doing a seance" and now she effectively possesses him. the other theories (not canon, but, would make sense) include that the sister that speaks through him is an alter, she's some form of tulpa, or that she is simply a delusion. so, here's the run down of that. if you believe the canon, that this is literally her spirit possessing him, her dialogue is, in my opinion, upsetting. to say the least. and this is how she was when she was alive. if you believe that she's an alter and that he's a system, that leads to the fact that he was abused from an early age. if you believe that she's some kind of tulpa or personality that he manufactured, no one who is mentally well and has a positive relationship with the person theyre manufacturing would do that with someone. or, if you believe that she's simply a delusion, delusions can have stemmed from trauma. there's really no option that paints her well. let's just follow canon, for the sake of this post, and read some of the things she says. here's two pieces of dialogue from her that really cement the "she's not a good person" idea in my mind;

"Sweet Korekiyo, calm yourself... Their words are all hollow. There is no meaning to any of them... You must teach these ignorant children a lesson."

"Calm yourself, Korekiyo. You mustn't raise your voice. You mustn't stutter. You mustn't lose composure. You mustn't become flustered. You mustn't waver. Look at their horrid faces. This sorry lot is not worth agonizing over."

maybe it's just the tone she says this in in the game (which unfortunately I can hear perfectly in my brain <\3), but not only does it sound deeply unnerving, what she says is unsettling as well. her usage of "you must" when she speaks to him holds this air of authority of his head. her words and tone are positively dripping with a false sense of sweetness and affection. she's saying, "calm down, don't stutter. don't lose your composure. look at them." it's very commanding. and this is her dialogue around other people. you can imagine how she acts when it's just them alone.

this may have been some kind of hallucination or something that was faked by monokuma, but she also threw salt on his spirit when he was being executed. she got what she wanted from him, and now he's useless to her.

I had more I was going to say, but, honestly this has both drained and upset me. mainly because as a victim myself who viewed my abuser similarly, reading things like "he didn't care, he chose to pursue it" rings similar to shit I've had said about myself. again I know this was a genuine question but his tags and his wiki are at your disposal. his wiki is long, however there's an entire section dedicated to her. to answer your question, no, shipping with him is not uncomfortable because he "holds different beliefs" than me. he was abused, I was, we both touted out abusers as saviors (another thing he says about her, that she "saved" him).

yea that's all I have to say for now. I'm quite drained. if uhh,,, if anyone read this and doesn't think Kiyo is a victim and is just a freak then. uhm. never come back here again . hope the door bruises both ya butt cheeks on the way out.

[insoukokuhell-434]

Chuuya Takes Care of Dazai Fics

Includes:

Emotional Hurt/Comfort (long term & immediate)

Physical Hurt/Comfort

The format I’m using is:

Title - writer (ao3 link) Fic length Time period (teen/mafia skk, 22! Skk, all ages) Additional tags (Tags in bold added by me for extra info) TW

Some fics have parts of the summary/ comments added for additional info

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Long Term (multiple instances)

hey look, the sky's falling apart - saffroncassis    

24.8k TEEN SKK (16/17) AU - Canon Divergence Protective Nakahara Chuuya, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Developing Relationship Found Family (the Akutagawa siblings, Oda's kids, Kyouka, Oda, Ango) TW- Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse and discussions of both these, also cw food for the whole fic

Summary - "At age 16, Chuuya defects from the Port Mafia and drags his partner with him not so much kicking and screaming as silently begrudging, and the rest follow suit in time."

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

[Really realistic depiction of the relationship between a depressed person and their supportive partner!]

For the Record - zombiemarker

19.1k TEEN SKK  AU- Spies & Secret Agents + Physical Hurt/Comfort Nightmares, Childhood Trauma, they get all dressed up and go to a gala, Implied Sexual Content, Fluff & Angst, Literal sleeping together, Getting together, First kiss, Developing Relationship TW - Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma

From tags: "Chuuya's a government experiment, Dazai's been with Mori for years, they've both got trauma now"

Mostly Chuuya helping Dazai, but Dazai supports him too <33

A mouth to empty into - series by osamuchuu

Not listing all 4 fics cause this post is already so long, but they’re all amazing pls go read them!

The series depicts depression + CSA trauma so well!

This is my favourite -

Love is not a victory march - osamuchuu

8.7k 22 SKK Soukoku taking care of each other, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mental Illness, Depression, Drug Addiction, Blood and Injury, Healing, Recovery, Soukoku Tenderness, Light Angst TW -  Dazai-Typical Suicide References and Attempts, Addiction, Drug Use

believe me darling, the stars were made for falling -communist_sasuke

14.6k ALL AGES Worried Chuuya, Love Confessions, Dazai is a Mess, Angst, Self-Harm , Fluff & Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon timeline, First Kiss, TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions , Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt

Trust Fall - insi 

3.5k ALL AGES (Dark Era, Post-Dark Era, 22 SKK) Emotional Constipation, Mental Health Issues, Dazai has issues TW - Implied/Referenced Suicide & Self-Harm, Suicidal ideation

From tags: Chuuya has met Dazai on the rooftop many times throughout knowing each other.

Immediate

Emotional H/C

Even the Darkness We're Watching Is So Beautiful - NastyaEx

4k 22 SKK (post-109) bsd 109, Fluff, Dazai Needs a Hug, Dazai is a Mess, exhausted dazai, dazai cries but only a little bit, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Soft skk, Dazai centered, yosano is a bit here and she's great

I'll Make A Home In Your Gut Because its Somewhere Warm to Sleep - arahabakii

8.9k 22 SKK Fluff, Angst, Mutual Pining, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Making Out, Getting Together, Domestic Fluff, Touch-Starved Dazai, Dazai needs a hug, Chuuya needs a hug TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

stay- neon_toad

4.6k 22 SKK (pm!skk flashbacks) Suffering Dazai, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai is Bad at Feelings, Oblivious Dazai Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hugs, birthday, Birthday Presents, soft skk TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide References

where are you? - doeinstinct

2.8k 22 SKK Depression, Disordered Eating, physical symptoms of depression, Mentions of past self harm, m because they shower together, canon adjacent, meal replacements, Love Confessions, They're In Love Your Honor

Run Away With Me - Anonymous

5.3k Dark Era Grief/Mourning, Dissociation, Suicidal Thoughts, Soft Soukoku, Dazai Needs a Hug , Dazai Has Feelings, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sharing a Bed, Chuuya Needs a Hug, Kissing, Dazai asks Chuuya to run away with him

stay the night - Shinkirou

3.6k 22 SKK Gen or Pre-Slash, Developing Relationship, Character Study, Sharing a Bed, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dazai's depression

Physical Hurt/Comfort

Fool for loyalty, or some other word - osamuchuu

1.7k Dark Era Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Injury Light Angst, chuuya deals with so much tbh, what a champ, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, chuuya being Dazai's nurse because he absolutely was Dazai's angry nurse

under wraps - Coffeebiscuits

5k Post-Dark era + Emotional hurt comfort Love confessions, deep talks, Light angst, Fluff and angst, kissing, crushes, sharing a bed, Suicide, Self-Harm, Tending to Wounds TW - Dazai-Typical Suicide Mentions, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm 

From tags: “basically chuuya has to patch dazai upand they talk about some things they need to discuss”

Chuuya also gets some emotional comfort

EXHAUSTION

So if you go too far I'll be there - Kimisu

2.5k 22 SKK - Pre-Fyodor | Cannibalism Arc  No Plot/Plotless, Literal Sleeping Together, Some Fluff, Canon Timeline

From Summary: Based on a HC that Dazai spends days before every major arc planning and arranging the pieces in order for everything to 'work'. He also pushes his body limits a bit too far when doing that sometimes.

SICK FIC

Nothing More Important Than You - StormDew2

3k MAFIA SKK (15) Sickfic, Soft soukoku, Vulnerability

Please like/reblog if this helped u find a fic, I'd be delighted to know asjsj <3

“Dazai takes care of Chuuya” recs here

Fic rec masterlist here

[marvelousazula]

The Past is Made of Unspoken Horrors [1/6]

an Azutara soulmates AU | one bares the other's scars | post-canon, established relationship

cw: scars, implied past abuse. mild sexual content, discussion of csa & of non-con incest in future parts (set in the same 'verse as this)

Katara adjusted the forearm guard on her left, making sure it wasn’t painfully tight. They made her feel almost uncomfortably warm in average spring weather of the Fire Nation, but they were better than flowy sleeves that noble women in general worn. Her usual clothes made her feel like she was being steam-cooked. She wasn’t ashamed or uncomfortable about none of the scars on her body (she was even proud of some), her soulmate was. 

For years, Katara believed her match was an older Earth Kingdom soldier. It wasn’t too uncommon to have soulmates with larger gaps, so it wouldn’t be so weird if her mate was older enough to explain why she had gnarly scars as a toddler. In a world where they were fighting the Fire Nation, she saw the scars that could only have come from torture as a sign that she was fated to someone very, very brave.

Her hands shook slightly, her wrists where covered in burn marks and she remembered how she got new ones in there every other day for years. They didn’t talk about it, and Katara understood why it was better to wear thick bracelets, forearm guards and just anything that could cover them. All this hiding wasn’t her favorite thing in the world, but it seemed to placate her match (when it came to the soulmarks, she was quite the calm person most of the time anyways).  

She stepped out of the house, morning heat still easily bearable. With confident steps, she strode her way towards the figure walking along the shore. The figure that slowed her steps, a smirk in her face out of pure jerkiness. The woman eyes her covered arms, making a grunt of approval.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Azula said.

“Good morning, have you been up for long?” Have you slept at all?

“Since Agni has risen.” That was better than the whole week prior. “I’ve trained, meditated, trained some more.”

“How’s the fire going?”

“It’s consistently white,” perhaps Katara was the only person Azula didn’t seem to be ashamed of knowing she was working on her fire being as potent as before. Katara was the only person Azula felt safe and comfortable around. “I see blue sparks every now and then.”

“You’ve made quite the progress, I’m proud of you,’ Azula beamed. Sometimes Katara wasn’t sure how that was the same person that spent months hunting them, even more persistent than Zuko. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“Breakfast sounds good. Lead the way.”

She gestures towards the house, palm facing up. One of the very few scars Azula carried, in both hands. Katara had been fascinated, a little, they marked the day she learned she could heal as an instinctual thing. Azula hung up to every word, it was the first time the Firebender seemed to be interested in their conversations at all.

(She tried not to think too much about how yeah, scars meant painful wounds. The soulmarks from her told of either funny adventures or significant moments.

Soulmarks from Azula seemed, more often than not, about carelessly hurting a child.

It all left a sour, dirty and bitter taste on the back of her mouth.)

She wanted to reach, take Azula’s warm hand, and entwine their fingers. Katara was an affectionate person, in general, she never withheld hugs and comforting touches. Something she missed about the adventures in war was when the three and then four of them would pile up in the saddle and take naps. 

They made progress, Azula didn’t watch her all the time when she was within arm’s reach from the Waterbender. (She was wary some days, Katara made sure she was just a little further away. Not enough to scream rejection, enough to say I’ll not touch you). Azula still preferred to be the one initiating contact, which she didn’t do often at all. There were hand-holding, a few hugs, gentle kissing. 

Katara wouldn’t get tired of those days, nor of when Azula was just a little bolder and went for hotter, deeper kisses. It felt almost too good, Azula’s bold moments. When she’d allow for less innocent, when she’d ask for a little more. Katara wouldn’t get tired of Azula sliding onto her lap, how warm and solid she was.

It’s too early for you to be thinking about that kind of thing, she told herself.

They sat side by side, close enough for Katara to feel her warmth but they weren’t touching. It was calm, quiet, Katara enjoyed those moments. She enjoyed the peace that Azula seemed to bring with nothing but her presence. Another surprise, but maybe it should have been expected considering that people do say that you’re at peace with your soulmate even if you never thought you’d be.

Azula’s warmth was addicting, if you ask Katara.

“Want to go for a walk?” Katara asked when she found Azula curled up in a seat, quite the old-looking book in her hands. “We can hang out here too.”

“A walk is fine,” there was a small smile on her lips.

Even the smallest smiles brough undeniable warmth to her chest. An innocent reaction when it wasn’t one of Azula’s usual sardonic smirks. The Firebender closed her book, gently placed it on the close table and followed Katara out into the pleasant breeze of the night. It felt nice, those moments in which all they needed was to be around each other. 

After a couple of minutes, Azula stepped just a little closer. Katara turned her hand to offer silent acceptance to what was being offered. Azula’s hand was, of course, quite wam. It was also rougher than you’d expect from a princess that did live sheltered for most of her life, and the roughness didn’t come only from the soulmark. She also had calloused fingers from training with weapons. Their fingers locked, Katara enjoyed how it felt to have her hand engulfed in warmth. Azula, of course, noticed that this small gesture made Katara a little flustered. 

“You’re adorable,” she leaned down and kissed Katara’s cheek. Out of habit, at this point, Katara mumbled about how it was unfair that Azula was the second tallest of their friend group, only losing to the literal Air Nomad).

“And you’re annoying, all tall like that.”

“You surely hate it, it’s not like you snuggle on me when I hold you.”

“You’re warm,” she dared to lean a little closer. “Can you blame me for liking to be held by your strong arms?”

“My strong arms, uh?” She managed to a b itof a smooth talker for all of her awkwardness. “I’ll make sure I keep them that way.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she moved slowly, gave her time to move back, but Azula allowed the Waterbender to hang her arms around her neck. It was one of the few touches the Firebender didn’t mind being initiated by Katara. She tilted her chin up, offering herself to be kissed. “I love you.”

Azula blinked down at her, but didn’t respond with anything but a sweet, little kiss. At this point, Katara got used to it. To no verbal response, to a hint of doubt – even if she didn’t frown the way she did before, or question her in fearful whispers like she did a few times before.

Progress was progress, and Katara was glad to see any at all.

[until-my-teeth-fell-out]

Brief list for warning tags I use.

Be warned that sometimes I forget to tag for a topic, or I make mistakes, or I don't tag for a topic because it doesn't feel like it needs to be tagged. You can let me know if I do that, or if there is a way to improve this tagging system. I can't guarantee that I'll tag something very specific that's not a common trigger/ is hard to tag if I don't even know you.

->General

•#artistic nudity

•#nsft

•#nsft text

•#suggestive

•#suggestive text

•#mdni (can forget this sometimes)

•#uncaptioned (I don't tag this anymore.)

->Trigger warnings

•#tw animal abuse

•#tw animal death

•#tw animal injury

•#tw asa

•#tw blood

•#tw child abuse

•#tw csa

•#tw csem

•#tw ed

•#tw grooming

•#tw incest

•#tw pedophilia

•#tw sa

•#tw suicide

You should know that I use these for *real life* topics only, not fictional ones.

You should also definitely know that for most of these I use "mention" or "implied" tags as well. For example "tw csa mention" when the topic is not the main topic in a post or if it's not the thing being actively discussed. So you should filter them if even the mention or implication of them triggers you.

Honestly, if I have to warn something for a fictional topic that's not under the darkship or dead dove label I might use a "mention" with the tag too. For example "#tw suicide mention" for fictional suicide as that's not a real suicide.

I can forget to tag some common triggers. These are the most common ones I use.

->Content warnings

•#cw ai art

•#cw disturbing (I don't use this often)

•#cw noncon

•#darkship

•#dead dove

•#shipcest

•#unreality

I used to have a seperate tag as #cw fictional [topic] but replaced that with #darkship. I don't post that a lot so not sure what kind of tagging system I'll have for it.

I'll also go back to edit previous posts.

[c0rpseductor]

i complained briefly about this on twitter (“briefly,” he says. Actually i complained about it for quite some time and with vigor) but i hate that godawful website because i am a verbose autist and a tweet is only about a sentence or two long. for me. so i will try to pursue a thought about it here from beginning to end, outside of the constraints of twitter’s character limit (which is targeting me personally)

i have tried on and off for hours to get my mind off this, but i was really upset and disappointed to find out that richard siken not only did write wincest himself but seems to approve of approaching incest from the angle of sexual fantasy in general — these tweets about it are really sticking in my craw, and apparently they are from an interview he did in 2015, but the whole thing just came up again and it’s not my favorite take!

the question about consequences — and “question” is generous, i know he’s already years ago come to the conclusion that whatever consequences exist as a result of such narratives do not matter — gets me bc it’s like, dude, i KNOW what the consequences are. from experience. i have lived with them all my life.

the cycle is as such: writers portray incest as mutual sexual deviance as opposed to the reality of it being violence. literature portrays it as such, pop culture portrays it as such, fanfiction portrays it as such, it is widely discussed as such — as an example, try really thinking about how often perceived promiscuity is blamed on “daddy issues,” and what that may imply. many people never have any personal experience with incest or with survivors and come to regard it as a distant sort of kink activity, or an imaginary, almost fun and racy sort of violence that happens to a distinct class of subhuman other totally segregated from human society. survivors are blamed because the dominant cultural narrative believes they are willing participants and not victims of rape, survivors internalize shame and do not come forward. survivors often come forward to partners who find their childhood trauma (incestuous abuse is most often CSA) arousing. the online support group i frequent has a recurring problem of lurkers who use DMs to sexually harass psychologically vulnerable victims of abuse while they are in crisis. society does not take us seriously because the violence we face is seen not as violence, but as a category of pornography.

furthermore, trying to say this makes me the bad guy. to frankly and clearly state the harm perpetuated against me and others by these cultural narratives & their continuation in every aspect of life is regarded as puritanical and Orwellian. nevermind that the proliferation of such ideas & narratives and my exposure to them left me terrified that my closest friends would think i was a pervert for disclosing sexual abuse from my parents, nevermind that I spent years being told by my abusers and society at large that i’d brought it on myself, nevermind that i’m continually surrounded by that rhetoric every day and continue to have salt rubbed in the already unbelievably painful wounds — some people are criticized for publishing wincest fic in ao3, and this is the truest sort of victim; surely someone who was merely raped by his father for years could not understand the pain and martyrdom of being called an asshole online. THIS is the real concern. upholding the secret and mystique around intrafamilial sexual violence for the sake of shippers’ enjoyment of a middling CW show from 2004 is how we will fix society, no matter how many incest survivors’ dignity we must sacrifice to make it happen

anyway. i think this guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but trying to convince anyone that this stuff is even tangentially related to the experiences of real human beings who may see it and be hurt is a good deal like trying to tell people unicorns are real, in that they will laugh in your face.

[yuripoll]

REJECT: Boyish² (2022)

NOTE: This was a rejected submission, on the basis that a couple of stories didn't sit right with me and it didn't feel right to stick it in the competition proper.

Boyish² is a single volume yuri anthology compiled by Natsuo Mutsumi centred on butch4butch relationships.

10 of Japan's top yuri manga artists have gathered to create the ultimate butch x butch yuri manga anthology! - Kickstarter

You can find both the JP and ENG release on the author's linktree.

CWs under the cut, sorted chapter-to-chapter. General severity rating: mild to moderate.

Locusta in the Skyscraper: nothing major.

Beware the Wolf: nothing major.

Can't Catch You Offguard With Love: nothing major.

Yuriran!: nothing major, but it's really pushing the 'butch4butch' premise. the butchest girl twitter can handle before they get scared etc etc.

We're Just Close, Is All: nothing major.

Moon in the Water: mention of suicidality + very mild sexual reference.

Portrayal: some sexual reference.

La Coneja Blanca Y Su Santa Maria: nothing explicit, but implied sex where the consent feels mildly dubious.

Seafoam: terminal illness, discussion of cannibalism, death.

All-Inclusive Feelings: not super explicit but heavy sexual reference + some sexual content. there is a brief implication-slash-mention of csa/incest (it is a miscommunication joke - nothing actually happened). and like. there's no good way to say it but it just gives me a Weird Vibe. i can't fully place it but it just raises some invisible red flag for me. the way the author depicts brown women felt... kind of fetishistic to me? additional pieces on the artist's twitter gave me the same vibe. i'm white, so feel free to ignore my take on this, but recommending the anthology without giving a clear warning about this gave me a bad taste in my mouth.

Bad Butch Bad Boy: non consensual public spanking, forced kissing & bad bdsm practices.

Coffee Time: nothing major. LI is a black woman w afro-textured hair btw! ^_^

I'll Sculpt My Abs!!: suggestive scenes.

[unhingedselfships]

YakKimi Kadokura-verse Masterlist Pt2

Undated (I can provide where they fit if asked, but its largely irrelevant in most cases)

Kadokura 'shoots' Kimi, for medical reasons aka arthritis sucks

Touching up the dye job

Kimi's bad parenting part one of many

Mio loves her Uncle Kenshi, and also knives

Mio coerces Kadokura into a zoo trip

Cherry Blossom Festival cuteness

Kimi talks about one of the worst nights of her life (cw:grief, discussion of reaction to death)

Kimi talks about a different terrible night in vaguer terms (cw:past CSA mention)

Kimi just really hates seafood

Why Kenshi wears turtlenecks

Kimi can't temperature regulate for shit

When the pain hits 10

Kimi is needy when sad

Not the first loss (cw:pregnancy loss/miscarriage)

Kimi has some food related trauma (cw:eating disorder mention)

Affair accusations are common, and unfounded

Kimi is stubborn and will use windows as entry points

Kadokura is not amused with the girls antics (NSFT/Smut)

Kenshi killed someone Kimi knows

Kimi's filter vanishes when sufficiently drunk

Kimi is pregnant and why yes her hair is more important than you

Kimi is pregnant again and yes, she is still more important

The kids see Kenshi all messy and Kichi has questions

Yayoi actually goes to bat not exactly for Kimi but kinda

Kimi is really a terrible parent

Kimi believes in soulmates

One should be careful when handling a fanatic

Dumbass got herself shot (cw: gun violence, blood, dissociation)

Kimi thinks of impossible things and gets sad

The marriage thing is complicated ok?

Kimi says something about Airi that was meant to be left unsaid

Kimi really likes how Kenshi looks in red

Kenshi has weird coping mechanisms and Kimi helps (cw: choking)

Kimi also has weird coping mechanisms and also knows other people (cw: choking)

Pigs will eat anything, be wary of pig farmers (cw: death)

Kimi has body issues and Kenshi can be sweet in his way

Kenshi really likes Kimi's body in his own odd way

Kimi is jealous and fussy

Kimi cannot hold her alcohol for shit

Phe hates Kadokura but she wants Kimi to be happy

Kimi forgets that she is into some rough shit and startles Kenshi (cw: implied consensual rough sex/kink)

Kimi gushes about Kenshi to a random party goer

Teenage Airi is an absolute shit, we love him for it

Kimi has a dirty mouth and dirtier thoughts (cw: explicit discussion of smut)

Kimi dreams about a wedding that she believed would never happen

This girl is absolutely smitten, its almost gross (NSFT/smut)

Kimi gets drunk and nippy

Making up stories about Kenshi's scars

Main timeline Kimi has a dream about Yakuza Kadokura and yeah (cw: kinks)

Kimi was dumb, got hurt, and tried to hide it

Kimi's only real form of exercise

Kenshi has a very vivid dream and wakes up needy (NSFT/Smut)

Kimi gets drugged and freaks out (cw: involuntary drug use)

Kenshi gets tired of Kimi being horny all the time

Kimi was planning that wedding for ages

She worked very hard on a dress she never thought she'd wear

AUs

Chibi-hime and Mommy-chan (Sagawa lives somehow AU)

Kimi maybe dies and its very sad

YakuKura-Verse, Kimi is autistic as hell

Daigo has a different answer to the affair rumors

YK- Kimi learns she has a kink

YK- Kimi learns she has another kink (NSFT/smut)

YK - In which Kimi was a virgin (NSFT/smut)

YK- Kimi goes fully unhinged in a jealous fit (cw: blood, death, dissociation)

YK - kimi is possessive and unhinged and yakuza!kadokura is ok with that Majimemegoro Exclusive!

YK - Kimi goes fully unhinged in a protective fit (cw: gun violence, death, blood)

YK - Kimi goes fully unhinged because she has just lost the plot (cw: gun violcence, gang violence)

YK - Kimi gets a new knife, and shows it off

MASTER LIST PT 1

[marxistcomedy]

a couple questions here. cw for discussion of csa and csem

1. what is it about these words that make you think that it’s “purely for fun and pleasure”? have you spoken to every single author personally? how would you determine whether it’s for personal sexual gratification or something worthy of the pass given to works of ‘artistic merit’? why is it that only nabokov and other writers you deem ‘good’ are allowed to write these themes? how were you able to determine nabokov didn’t experience any kind of sexual thrill from writing lolita, and what methods made your conclusion different than the people who want to (and have successfully) banned lolita from schools and public libraries?

2. do you think csa is some kind of mind virus? do you think that abusers of children only enact abuse because they’ve been infected with pedophilia brain? if you do, you’re living in qanon world and not dealing with the realities of csa, in a way that harms victims and has particularly scapegoated lgbt+ people by a) treating abusers of children as intrinsically pedophilic and b) treating pedophilia as a sexual orientation rather than an act of violence against a child. given the demographics of ao3 users and studies estimating rates of csa within the imperial core as 1/5 or higher, it is far, far more likely that, yes, even the fetish content you’re encountering is a victim processing their trauma than it is abusers recounting or fantasizing about abuse they have or would like to inflict — if that’s your central concern here, which, again, is qanon world

3. if you’re willing to confront the reality of csa, you’ll realize that most abusers are not specifically pedophiles. they’re opportunistic offenders who understand that children in our society are extremely vulnerable targets, who are not given the tools or knowledge to protect their autonomy and are surrounded by adults who teach them to deny themselves the right to that autonomy in myriad ways, big and small, every other moment of their life. they know children are routinely made to do things that make them afraid or uncomfortable or emotionally and physically harm them, because that it what it means in our society (and many others) to be a child. they know, maybe because it happened to them, that they won’t get caught, that the child won’t tell — and more often than not, even if the child does tell, they won’t face any consequence. not only are priests and parents and sports coaches and family friends and doctors not reading ao3 fanfiction, much less writing it, you aren’t even describing a coherent category with which you could pin some blame on actual abuse that occurs in the world

4. when you talk about fictional kids experiencing abuse, are you talking about whump fics that graphically detail the cruelty of abuse and the suffering of the victim? are you talking about fix-it fics where a character experiences csa and is saved from it by someone willing to intervene? are you talking about fics that make explicit a dynamic in canon that implies or is metaphor for a relationship that would be child abuse? what do you think should be done with this content? who do you think should be made to deal with it? what do you think should be done about the people who write it? would you make exceptions for victims? how do you determine who’s a victim and therefore allowed to process in this way? is there content you believe categorically could not be written by a victim, and would you discount people from that category who self-identify as such? what kind of victim are you willing to shame and smear as a perpetrator of abuse for writing words?

5. following from that, is your discomfort in the thought that these works depicting child abuse is going to brainwash people who wouldn’t otherwise abuse a child into doing so? or will convince them to justify the abuse of others? or is your problem seeing and being confronted with fictional depictions of csa, ‘good’ or not, for whatever reason they exist, that are only a fraction of real abuse actually occurring all around you in the real world, in ways that cannot be stopped by doing tumblr moms for liberty handwringing? could you be reading about youth liberation and educating others instead? the reactionaries already organizing in your area against sex education in schools are a bigger danger to children than anyone in ao3. by prioritizing and focusing on their own adult discomfort, they mystify the social conditions that allow child abuse to flourish. are you enlisting in their cause by doing the same?

[bbygirl-aemond]

If you consider viserys a creep, then I hope you realize Daemon is also one just slightly less so, laena was young when daemon married her and rhaenyra was even younger when to took her too a brothel and kissed her, plus he asked for her hand in marriage, he would have no problem sleeping with rhaenyra if viserys had agreed to marry them. Daemon just has pretty privilege, so people aren't willing to see that his more problematic than viserys

CW for CSA, grooming mentions

Okay so first of all, let me remind everyone that my posts that only talk about Viserys shouldn't be taken to mean anything about completely unrelated characters like Daemon. Now, this post isn't going to be an apology for Daemon, and it shouldn't be taken to excuse his actions. But I will be making the argument that what he's done isn't as bad as what Viserys has done.

In the books, Laena is twenty-three years old when she and Daemon meet for the first time and get married. There's still obviously an age gap, and I personally hate age gaps in real life, but Laena's very much a grown woman here, even by modern standards.

And I've discussed before here that I very much DO think Daemon's treatment of younger Rhaenyra is problematic. As for adult Daemyra, there are a few things that I think are important here:

During the brothel scene, even though Rhaenyra is acting willing, Daemon doesn't have sex with her. Also, Rhaenyra is seventeen. Obviously we rightfully take issue with this, but by Westerosi standards she is technically capable of consent. Again, we know this shouldn't be the case and it doesn't excuse Daemon's actions, but it does provide context for them.

I could make a whole separate post about how Daemon's interest in Rhaenyra as a child wasn't about her, but was entirely about her being an extension of Viserys. Daemon doesn't genuinely want Rhaenyra when he proposes to wed her; he's feeling rejected by Viserys and is trying to get close to him in the only way he knows how.

Daemon then distances himself physically from Rhaenyra, and explicitly says this is because she was a "child," implying that he didn't feel it was right for them to have a relationship and felt that he needed to remove himself from the situation to allow her to grow by herself.

When Daemon and Rhaenyra DO start a relationship, it is when Rhaenyra is twenty-seven years old and unquestionably an adult. And it starts on Rhaenyra's terms. Now, this isn't fully okay, because we know that their dynamics when Rhaenyra was younger impact what she wants as an adult. But I do think this is still significant when comparing him to Viserys.

Finally, Daemon's relationship with Rhaenyra is about as healthy as a Targaryen relationship can get. Rhaenyra maintains the upper hand in every single scene with him-- even in the choking scene, she laughs in his face and he is ultimately rendered impotent in the face of her confidence. Daemon unquestioningly supports Rhaenyra's decision-making skills and her power as a ruler. When she asks him to do something, even if he clearly doesn't want to do it, he always backs down. Daemon obeys Rhaenyra at every turn, never the other way around.

Daemon's relationship with Rhaenyra is obviously still problematic, and Emma D'Arcy has said it counts as grooming, and I won't argue against this because I agree. I also don't think Daemyra should ever be used to excuse these dynamics in real life, ever. But it's not quite comparable to what Viserys did with Aemma and Alicent, for all the reasons outlined above.

TLDR: Viserys raped a 13-year-old girl and a 15-year-old girl, the latter of whom he saw as a daughter. His relationships with both of his wives involved mistreating them and sacrificing their physical safety, comfort, and wishes for his own whims.

Daemon had sex with a 23-year-old woman and a 27-year-old woman, the latter of whom he saw as a niece. His consummated marriages were amicable and he always allowed his wives autonomy, even at the detriment of his own personal desires. You can see how these two things aren't 100% the same, yes?

[sixstepsaway]

I watched a very interesting video on yt a few months ago, talking about purity culture and the concept of sin in christianity and how and why it perpetuates a cult of abuse

[cw: some talk of non-con in fiction, some talk of csa but nothing graphic, explicit homophobic rhetoric as used against other people, fandom discourse in general, also this post is long]

obviously this isn't all christians, and it applies to more than JUST christians unfortunately, but since I kicked open the door to talk about why people insist izzy is manipulative and strip ed of his agency, I thought I'd talk about what I learned from this video in regards to fandom puritans and their behaviors

the basics of the cultish christian ideaology is that thinking about sin is the same thing as acting on those thoughts. if you see someone walk past and you're like, "eheh hot," then you've already committed the sin, which leaves a lot of people thinking "well, if thinking she's hot is already the sin, then i might as well fuck her"

(this is also one of the reasons why csa is so prevalent in these circles, this ideology says that thinking about something is the same as doing it, so they might as well just indulge those thoughts, no?)

when you chew on that a little, the fandom puritans really start to make sense in their own twisted ways!

I remember years ago I heard of the term 'culturally christian' and it dinged something in my brain. a lot of us aren't christian. i wasn't raised going to church or believing in god or any of that, but i was raised in a primarily christian country (although less so these days, afaik, than the US) and so i enjoy christmas and a lot of christian beliefs have been perpetuated into my psyche by the cultural norms

my dad, a raging athiest, talks about our pets going to heaven. my mom says, "oh, bless her!" as a sweet way of saying how cute something is. i say "bless you" when someone sneezes, because it's polite. cultural christianity.

in the US, from what I can tell, the culture is even more heavily steeped in christianity, which is why people who are, much like my dad, raging athiests, or who think christianity is a crock or think god is a stupid concept, parrot christian rhetoric

because they weren't taught it as christian rhetoric. they were taught it as just... the right thing.

so, following this ideology, thinking is the same as doing. that means fantasising is the same as doing, too, and watching, and reading, and writing are all balled up under that same

if you dare to enjoy a problematic character who does things like feeding people's toes to them, then you are committing the same sins crimes he is. fictional csa or incest or whatever is the exact same as real csa, incest etc, not because of those being hurt but because someone is doing the thing by thinking about it.

it's the same reason why the culture of telling girls and women to cover up exists. if a man sees them and goes, "hubba hubba" in the privacy of his own brain, he's sinned. thusly, the girl in question (even if she's a fucking twelve year old) has led that man to sin.

there's also a discussion in those videos about how asking about how far is too far in regards to premarital sex is treated as "trying to find the line" and those questions should never be indulged, implying that saying "hey, does holding hands count as a sin?" is a forbidden question because if you can hold hands you might just - gasp - move on to kissing each other on the cheek! instead of the truth of it, which is that if someone says, "Can we hold hands?" they're asking that, not asking to bump up against a fake purity line and accidentally tumble over it

not giving these things any kind of qualification or boundaries is absolutely toxic, and you see it perpetuated through fandom purity warriors the same: you can't ship this thing but i won't tell you why. you're shipping? well, you're bad because it's pedophilia. you're bad because it's racist. you're bad because it's abusive. why is it those things? well, i'm not going to tell you that, i shouldn't have to, you should be able to see it yourself :/

Also, the culture of boundaries being Wrong and an implied plan to flout those boundaries is just... ridiculous

So because thoughts = reality for these people, they assume that everyone agrees with them. because they don't realize what they're parroting is christian rhetoric, and so they believe it's just 'what normal people think' (which, no)

they don't realize how heavily steeped in christian 'sinner' culture it is, or how it trickles down to anti-queer rhetoric of every queer person being a groomer and how talking about sex in a space that might possibly at one time have included a child maybe if you squinted is grooming and bad and toxic

it's also the whole 'children are innocent of sin so we have to keep them that way' thing, because if even thinking about sex or anything even close to sex (such as the anatomical correct name for their body parts so they can talk about abuse if they receive it, or the basics of consent and such) then they are sinning, and sinning is bad because you'll go to hell and that's bad too because obviously it's real and a place you can get sent to for knowing a cookie as it's real name of vagina

i think also there's an element of... priests and such are Allowed to discuss (and thusly think about) sin. they're allowed to listen to someone talk about that hot girl they thought about, they're allowed to think about sin in their community in order to fight it or whatever. the idea that they have Permission because they are Professional Sin Thinkers i think is perpetuated down into fandom purity culture because of how they treat fanartists and fanfiction writers and so on.

david jenkins, for example, is super okay for writing izzy and ed and pirates who enjoy torture and maiming and even for the 1x10 toe scene! but if a fanfiction writer writes those things, they're Committing Thought Crimes because they dont have Permission

and similar to how a priest can preach about sin and that make it okay for you to think about, if someone produces a show that includes Bad Things, it's okay to watch it, as long as you're thinking critically about sin the subject matter, and even moreso if you're being taught not to commit those sins do those things via aesops

I think they've internalized the idea of some people having an innate License To Think Of Sinful Things, though they do tend to yank that license back whenever they find out the person holding the license is queer

which is likely yet more recycled rhetoric because of the whole slippery slope, queers can't be trusted, queers are grooming our children rhetoric that gets passed around. they're indoctrinated into instinctively not trusting queers, especially older queers and especially older queers who are not pure about their queerness

it's also hysterical to think about what they instinctively believe gives someone 'permission' to write Bad things? it's capitalism. it's... it's literally capitalism lmao!!!

if i write a kinky non-con fic and shove it on AO3 for 100 people to read for free, i have committed a crime and should be shanked for it

if george r r martin writes a kinky non-con scene and sells it within his books for $9.99 on amazon, then he's a Professional and is allowed to do such a thing

(until they decide he isn't, usually due to some arbitrary thing like he said someone was hot (thusly sexualizing them) or that he supports proshipping or something like what happened with bryan fuller, who is a queer man (of an age that means he lived through the AIDS crisis, no less, i believe) who commented on his-- is it a headcanon? word of god? word of god that hannibal excretes a lot of precome (lmao) so could fuck will raw and was immediately told by fandom puritians (how they exist in that fandom I will never know) that he should die, be killed, be gay bashed, be beaten to death with rocks, die of AIDS, whatever else horrible shit they came up with. they've also taken issue with him retweeting/enjoying explicit fanart because "it's creepy sexualizing them they're your coworkers" as though mads mikkelson hasn't said he reads pornfic)

i think this is also why they genuinely believe that looking over at someone and going, "dang, you're fine," in your own head is sexualizing them and bad, as though sexual attraction isn't a normal thing that most humans experience every day

I don't remember which Belief It or Not video it was that I learned about the sin thing, and honestly it might have been different chunks of all three of these, but it was probably one or more of Purity Culture is Rad-ically Dangerous, The Thing About Modesty or The Problem With Sin, all of which are excellent video essays by an ex-Christian, talking about his experiences within the church, and I highly recommend them if you're interested in these topics because they are fascinating and he presents them really well.

anyway, these are just things i've been thinking about for a while, so i thought i'd throw these somewhat joined-together thoughts out there for y'all to mull on or chat to me about if you so desire.

tl;dr: think critically about the rhetoric you're parroting, it might not be what you believe it to be

ETA: I've been corrected that priests are catholic and catholisism is like, "everyone sins all the time" whereas protestantism is like "remain as pure as the driven snow" by @three--rings who has actual lived experience with Christianity. This doesn't really change my point, but I wanted to say that my comments about priests should be read more as 'religious leaders' than an actual priest because of it lmao thanks for the educaiton three--rings! Also, that it wasn't a cultural thing until recently, it's a specific kind of christianity that's taken root in the US. You can see their additions in the replies if you're curious about more context!

[altairattorney]

The callout post against st@ff was not harassment: a compilation 💕

THE TITLE IS IRONY AND I AM NOT AFFILIATED WITH ANYONE. ~ CW: discussion of CSA, pedophilia, antisemitism and nazism

Premise: the original post that the OP got banned for was added again in the Google doc, so I had the chance to see it. It was NOT making the extremely serious accusations that we have been talking about, however: it was an ad-hominem exposure of a st@ff's member blog that implied a connection between her own private and, let me repeat, not "problematic" art and the inaction of st@ff in banning terfs.

I completely agree that supporting JKR in any way is awful. However, this means literally supporting the woman in her bigotry, and you cannot assume liking her franchise is the same. It was (WAS) a cultural phenomenon in a past time and it had uncountable fans. I was a huge fan in my early teens, I obviously am not anymore, but that originally happened because her whole body of work got mediocre and unhinged really fast - it just preceded its creator in obviously falling apart. Her being a disgusting person came later and became the main reason not to return to it or even speak about it. I cannot understand how anyone continues to like it, but that is a far cry from publicly implying a fan automatically supports all of the woman's views just for that reason. Even if OP did not spell it out, they 100% meant it, and this is not a justifiable accusation in any way.

So is alleging that a member's liking of specific media is the reason st@ff doesn't properly moderate the site. Not only is it bewildering OP even thought of the connection, it's also asinine in the understanding of how the moderation of an enormous social media website works, especially in a time where understaffing is so common.

If the post wasn't harassment itself (which is debatable) it was certainly a personal attack and a bomb waiting to explode. Tumblr is quick to start enormous amounts of harassment off these bs callout posts. So yes, this was a hazard to the member's safety on her workplace and OP got exactly what they deserved.

THAT SAID

Right after deletion: read all about st@ff member being a freak 💕

"OP never implied that member was ACTUALLY a terf!" aside from the fact they did, if OP didn't do that, well, a certain user took care of what their post was lacking!

Pictured above, completely reasonable criteria to determine if a certain person is prone to a certain type of SA and is a danger to the real lives of real vulnerable children. I must comment here, this is a very dark and touchy topic and it's completely true that fan content can be used by real pdos to groom people. That, however, is on the pdo - it doesn't automatically make that content CP. Some can obviously be. Certainly not a g-rated and barely romantic (if you can say so, even) art of child characters aged up to their teens.

Also, someone has a different idea than you on what constitutes risk behavior for something as serious as pedophilia? They are all pdos now! Talk about taking it lightly!

OH OOPSIE! Maybe calling st@ff member a nazi and a freak was a little too much! Let's change the contents so that we can't be accused of that in the future! 💖

You can still read the Google doc for yourself, with new and improved title, here:

This is so you can read yourself and disagree with me if you see fit. I just felt that there was too much going on here to ignore.

What st@ff did must have had a Streisand effect they didn't expect, and I mean, who in the fuck would ever react to moderation as censorship if not the geniuses on Tumblr.

However:

this shit is exactly why they removed the post

Because they knew OP's already baseless and offensive implications could generate harassment of this kind.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Okay okay okay, I'll go to bed RIGHT after this I promise. So I know you don't write NSFW but it has been implied so what if Mr Patrick adopted a young ex-pet (underage) that was a romantic would he know how to cope with the added complications, and what about the other children who might not understand?

A little more in depth look at this, so under the cut. 

CW: Implication of CSA, Discussion of “romantics’ and ‘romantic training’, referenced human trafficking, 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the universe I’ve created, pets with “romantic” implications or ‘training’ aren’t super popular. They exist, but it’s a very very small percentage. (Mostly cause it’s seen as incredibly pathetic) The big box stores (like what Brody is from) don’t sell them, so finding one would have to be from a smaller company/breeder. 

If a situation did arise where a child was taken from that environment, they would realistically not be sent to the Patricks household. There are other families in the system, and ones that are more prepared and set up to help with those scenarios. If a pet was in that situation, there’s a lot more going on (ie illegally sold/bought, probably highly highly mistreated, other aspects) 

In the rare chance a child was placed in his care? No, he would not know how to help them cope from personal experience. He would be able to relate a few aspects, like being unsure how to navigate touch, but not specifics. It would not be a decision that was made lightly, and he and Jenna would be in close contact with someone trained to help in these situations. Like hell they would try to do it on their own. 

As for the other kids, they would not be told specifics. They would probably be told that their new sibling came from a bad place, and that they need a lot of patience and love. Anything more than that would be up to the child in question. 

Gameplan would be a lot of patience, a lot of long talks, private sessions with professional that specialized in this area, and as much support as they could give.