#like because talking to people about it its always dismissed as normal

[astrobydalia]

September Observations

This post has a TW I do not allow the repost on any others platform

© astrobydalia

Something I forgot to mention in this post about 8th house synastry!! I've noticed for some reason this overlay tends to manifest more positively when the house person already has 8th house placements in their natal chart (not a guarantee tho). I feel like its because this makes the house person be more naturally in their power and the planet person no longer feels like they can have control over the house person. In these cases instead of envy the planet person feels admiration and "positive" obsession over the house person like "Im obsessed with you, queen!🥰​😍​🤩​" kinda vibe

If Libra Moons didn’t have the ability to detach fast they could easily pass as water moons 100%. They are such hopeless romantics and love having someone to love be that friends or partners. And yes they can be codependent but only to an extent imo. I’ve seen Libra Moons actually detach surprisingly fast specially if they feel like you don’t match their energy

Im sorry but Libra Suns are not people you can count on imo. They have this very elitist/opportunistic mindset when it comes to people. They treat people based on some kind of unspoken social hierarchy they have in their minds like how successful or intelligent or interesting you appear to be for example. They'll be loyal for as long as they see benefit from associating themselves with you, otherwise they'll be distant, elusive and flighty af. Socially they appear to be super chill but they aren’t like at all, they’re very passive-aggressive and extremely judgmental of others

If you have Venusian MC/10th house (Libra or Taurus MC/10th or Venus in the 10th house), I've noticed people care what you think of them and really feel the need to make a good impression on you, specially the sex you're attracted to romantically. This placement makes people feel like your love and affection is a privilege to have, that’s why a lot of trophy wives have venusian 10th house/MC

Jupiterians (Pisces/Sagittarius but specially Sagittarius placements) are just the best people to be around tbh. Even when they have other toxic placements/energies in their charts, I’ve noticed they are ultimately all about the ✨vibes✨. They detach from negativity quite fast and avoid getting too deep into drama and controversy cause really all they want is to chill and have fun. The “no worries, bro” kinda people. The negative side of this tho is they tend to turn a blind eye when they get called out on their own issues and/or have a tendency to be dismissive when it’s time to take things seriously

^^^You’d say Venusians relate to this peaceful description too but tbh I didn’t include them cause Venusians tend to have a lot of repressed shit and are secretly all about drama (but watching it go down from afar tho)

I’ve noticed water mercury tend to be more diplomatic and charming with their words, the way they speak about things tends to be more soothing yet nebulous/confusing/cryptic. However earth mercuries are more direct and critical which makes them more prone to openly talking shit LMAO

There's a lot of posts victimizing and romanticizing Lilith in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC but I've seen this placement a lot in bullies and genuinely fraudulent people?? I've seen Lilith energy is commonly prominent in the charts of criminals too. Like​ idk why people act like the hate Lilith gets is ALWAYS unjustified 💀 They can truly be really dark and shady individuals that’s literally what Lilith signifies (this does not apply to everyone of courseeeeee)

Furthermore, I'm sorry to say this but prominent Lilith natives have a habit of living too much in the victim mindset and constantly make everyone else the problem as a way to justify their shitty behaviors

What I’ve noticed with Lilith natives who are not sketchy people (so just normal decent individuals) is that they have huge self-destructive and self-derogatory tendencies. They tend to become very cynical of the world, lose hope in their own value and humiliate themselves behaving in ways that are rebellious to them but make other people think the native has no self-respect

Libra/7th house Lilith tend to assume the worst in others. Envy placement. They struggle finding genuine and healthy relationships

I've noticed MC ruler in the 12th house is common in the charts of sex workers since 12th house is related to bed pleasures, secret affairs, etc

The sign that actually behaves like a child irl is Gemini. That’s why I've noticed Gemini placements always want to be the 'cool and fun parent' just like Phil Dunphy

TW: mentions of c**** abuse and s******.

I've noticed Cancer energy (Leo too but mostly cancer) is very common in the charts of p*dos, gr**mers and s*xual predators. No placement will determine someone being this way!!!

Chiron in the 1st house/conjunct the ASC/Harshly aspecting chart ruler is common in the charts of people who have or have tried to commit s******

End of TW

An underrated god complex indicator is Sun-Mercury conjunction. I can't stress enough how much these people's ego revolve around their intellect. Their entire personality to them is being the smartest person in the room

When it comes to pride and ego (Sun) fixed and mutable suns are the most likely to have a superiority complex

Mutable Suns take the most pride on their own knowledge and judgment, deeply believe they know better or have most if not all the answers. They have a tendency to often dismiss, correct or contradict others

Fixed Suns take pride in their own ‘essence’ if that make sense. They LOVE the idea of being special and irreplaceable. Feeling like there’s something intrinsically unique about them

Cardinal Suns are okay tbh. They can have other negatives but when it comes to ego theirs is usually pretty balanced I noticed. They usually take pride in their ability to level-up and improve themselves which often makes them rather competitive or in extreme cases have this heavily predatory mindset when it comes to what they want

This will not be accurate for everyone of course but when it comes to future children if you have Water/Earth moon you are most likely to have girls whereas if you have Air/Fire moon you're more most likely to have boys

Air Venus people are the most open-minded when it comes to taste in general. I've noticed they're the type to enjoy almost every music and movie genre, they can appreciate different aesthetics.... They're also the most likely to date outside their race I've seen cause they can really find beauty in all sort of features as long as it looks overall good/attractive to them. It's not that they don't have preferences, but they're type be open to being impressed and mentally stimulated

EARTH and Fire Venus people are the most selective when it comes to their taste. They know exactly what they want and like. In the case of earth Venus this can be to the point of strong reluctance to try new things. Fire Venus appear open minded cause they have this attitude of trying everything once but the usually have a very hard-set type of things they will actually commit to

Water Venus people aren't that open about their tastes. They hide or repress them cause they really tend to be into obscure or hidden stuff. If you ask them what they like, they'll give you an evasive and generic answer, specially if it's in the context of small talk

I've noticed Capricorn and Scorpio Moons have an innate understanding of the uglier sides of human nature which is what makes them pretty cynical (scorpio) and pessimistic (cap). They are hyper-aware of how most people can be bought and corrupted. This makes them AMAZING business people tho.

Aries ASC natives embody the active, wild and spontaneous stereotype more than the other aries placements. They come across as pretty chill at first but there's actually very little they won't dare to do, they love adventures

I've noticed Venusians can do really good in anything related to sales or business counseling, because they are good at estimating and promoting the value of things

I know we relate Neptune to otherworldly and glamorous vibe but all the people that I've met who made me go "wow, girl, you don't feel real" were people who had air signs in their big 3. They’re not real people, they’re concepts, I swear that’s the vibe they give me💀💀

Also, air signs in the big 3 is an underrated fame/success indicator imo. Nowadays networking is everything in order to succeed and these natives naturally attract popularity and connections SO easily. They effortlessly use their charm and likeness to gain opportunities

I once saw an observation that said Gemini risings give off dumb blonde energy and Im here to confirm it’s true, specially when Mercury is also in an air sign. This happens cause they're up in their minds all the time but this makes them appear VERY disconnected from their environment so they really just be looking like this 24/7 😀​😃​😄​😁​😆​🙂​ and that's why they come across as empty-headed. They also often have this manic pixie dream girl energy which results in people not taking them seriously. This is enhanced when you see that they have a tendency to get talkative about superficial or random topics but their more intelligent or deep thoughts they keep to themselves for some reason.

Taurus Moons actually are actually very very very strategic??? Other earth moons look messy af beside them. They're so grounded that they know exactly what they want, how they wanna get it and they are so sure of themselves they have no issue taking their sweet ass time with it. Every single step they take is so intentional and "organized" if that makes sense, but they pull it off as natural and spontaneous??

Also this is an obvious thing to say but Taurus Moons are so emotionally stable. They work extremely well under pressure, will literally be the calm person admist a chaos or extreme situation. I've seen Cap/Virgo moons getting triggered many times but Taurus moons???? I've known some of them for years and I've never seen them triggered EVER no matter happened which as a water moon that's fucking insane to me 😭​💀​💀​ Like sure depending on their personality they can be more or less expressive of their feelings but its always on their own terms, they don't let other people or situations just get reactions out of them if that makes sense

I've noticed Mercury in the 4th house creates a divided and scattered family. Just like Mercury in the 10th house indicates traveling for work, Mercury in the 4th indicates traveling because of your family. The people I've seen with this placement have all of their family members scattered around the world living completely different lives

Sun-Neptune harsh aspects are very impressionable people and very easily influenced

Also, a lot of people point out Sun-Pluto aspects have like a hidden dark/toxic side to their personality but I've seen it's actually Sun-Neptune that match this description

Libra placements can potentially be very disciplined and do well in demanding and/or serious occupations like corporate, military or athletes since Saturn is exalted in Libra.

Venus in the 1st house can tend to only value the superficially good things in them (lovable, likabale, beautiful, etc) and are more concerned with the image they present rather than building a real personality deep down. This make them ignore or downplay their flaws thus not reacting well to criticism and/or when someone does not like them.

All the men that I’ve met who were actually providers and had this involved father and husband vibes always had VIRGO, taurus and cancer placements

Men with capricorn placements aren’t providers, they’re just controlling af😭😭 They will also be emotionally distant and manipulative af too if they do not have other energies in the chart to balance it out

Honestly water suns (sun in a water house natives too) fascinate me. They just go around life casually hiding who they really are like they don’t have the most intricate personality deep down. All of them have mysterious and intriguing vibes it's not just scorpio!!!

5th house placements (including vertex) will stay behaving like teenagers regardless of their age. The song "forever young" by alphaville really describes them

Neptune in the 1st house/asc are prone to attracting lots and lots of creepy individuals because they have this aura where people project all sorts of delulu and twisted shit on them. Mentally and/or emotionally unwell people feel very attached to these natives unfortunately

Leo MC/10th house really does indicate a career where you're some kind of performer. That’s why many celebrities (specially ACTORS and singers) are Scorpio risings. This can also apply to careers like politics, public speaker, standup comedian, etc. All of these involve some level of fame ofc

Cancer MC/10th house indicates being some kind of creator (cancer=birthing something new, bringing something to life). This a lot of times relate to some art form of course but it can be other things for example a friend of mine has this placement and she works in science and she told me she works in a lab with substances and materials she created herself (idk how it works but you get the idea)

Pisces Suns have a major in gaslighting from the university of never taking responsibility. This can be the case for any unevolved pisces placement but I’ve noticed the lying to your face and twisting reality is much more blatant in Pisces Suns for some reason. They make arguments in such a way that you can tell something of what they’re saying is off but you can’t exactly prove them wrong either so 🤷🏽‍♀️💀

Mercurial placements (Gemini/Virgo) and Venus in the 3rd house may really love wearing rings or lots of bracelets, big watches, etc. Accessories that bring attention to the hands essentially

Libra placentas may or may not want to be "liked" but Libra Moon is a placement I've seen is genuinely liked by everyone. They have this calming and loving energy to them. Celebrities with this placement are generally unproblematic (Anne Hathaway, Emma Stone) or if they are problematic they can easily recover from backlash (Ariana Grande, Leo DiCaprio)

© astrobydalia

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Raphael's First Love—A Talk With Splinter

part of the First Love Talk miniseries!

sfw 💫 word count: 1.2k

The old metronome in the corner of the dojo ticked on incessantly as Raphael sat in indignant silence with Master Splinter. After four outbursts, a fight with Leonardo, and days of distance, Splinter had put his foot down and called his son in for a talk about his behavior. Beneath his stern exterior, Splinter was concerned.

"Raphael, explain yourself," Splinter demanded with a calm voice, treading a thin line with his angriest son's temper. Not out of fear—Splinter could and would easily put the giant back in his place even as an old rat. That was no issue. "What has gotten into you?"

Weeks of this crap, that's what, thought Raph bitterly. Weeks of feeling sick to his stomach every time she was around, trying to put up a good front and getting embarrassed by himself or his brothers; he felt stupid. Weak. Utterly at her mercy, and she didn't even know. Good. I don't want her to. Splinter gave him a skeptical eye. He shifted his position multiple times, uncomfortable and trying to look casual. Grunted dismissively. But he knew his father was not going to take that for an answer. He let out a scoff, dodging eye contact, "Things gettin' under my shell like usual."

"But not like usual, because you are worse-off than usual," observed Splinter.

His mental health was actively declining the more he deliberated on the pang in his heart he felt when he thought about her. It made his guts twist to think about why he was so angry, why he was even afraid of her, deep down. The last thing he ever wanted to admit to himself, let alone Splinter, was that he cared what she thought. A lot.

Too much.

All of his brothers seemed so confident, and yet he was self-conscious. Why? Why do I gotta be like this?!

Raph shrugged. "You know me, master. Comes with the whole package, whether all of you like it or not." He was already moody, prone to rapidly-changing emotions. That was never a guess, it was a given. "Look, I'll do us a favor and just end this convo now—I ain't in a bad way. And Leo needs to stay in his lane comin' to you over a little fight." He started to get up, leave the terrible silence of the training room and that god awful ticking metronome. Splinter jabbed his cane into his plastron, knocking him back, and then brought it down hard on his foot. Raph yelped and stumbled down, quickly reassuring his seated position.

"Enough!" Splinter barked. "Sit, Raphael."

Splinter had his full attention, now. The top of his foot ached dully.

Raph was seething on the inside. On the outside, he slumped over his knee, hiding his face behind his thick forearm.

This was all her fault. If she hadn't fallen—literally crashed—into their lives, he would be fine. There would be no question about what to do or what he was feeling. It was always them and the shadows—no people, no complications. He always knew that would never be accepted despite craving it with every ounce of his being. Why change that? Why suddenly bring more emotions into the mix? Before her, it was all straightforward. Now, he worried if he was too brutish, too much of a freak, if his normal habits weren't so "normal". He didn't want to feel like he was under one of Donnie's microscopes, with her eye looking through the lens.

Splinter furrowed his gray brow at him, resting his hands on his cane. "This is about your self esteem, is it not?" he questioned carefully. Prying.

"You couldn't know anything about it!" Raph shouted back. He swung his hand as he spoke. "I'm a six-foot turtle, there's no changing it! No changing me!"

Sighing a light breath, Splinter closed his eyes. This was going to be the challenge for the day. No day was without its challenges. He recentered his thoughts, looking for a different angle. He wanted to speak his son's language.

"Correct, there is no changing you."

Raph stuttered on his response as his face fell almost imperceptibly, but Splinter knew every minute expression of his kids.

If she knows, I'm done for. Raphael's mind was swirling and his thoughts were reaching dead-ends left and right. There was no changing. No hope? He couldn't tell. He'd given up before he'd even tried. Because like his weapon, he was defensive, and did everything possible to protect what? Himself. His big, soft heart in there that needed some serious attention. The thought of telling her made him want to hurl. But like a moth to a flame, he kept coming right back to her, torturing himself with "what-if's" and doubts he had all the while.

"What do you want me to say, Splinter?" Raph spat with a low voice.

"I want you to be honest with yourself," Splinter replied.

Raph poked the tip of his sai into the mat before him, digging it into the material. "Okay, I'll bite," he said, "what do you think I'm lyin' about? Huh?"

He already knew the answer to that. It was everything; he rejected the shyness he felt inexplicably when she was around. He felt dirty next to her, or if he accidentally touched her, it was an ordeal. Because he was a mutant and she was a human. Out of all of her pick of people, he never could have been at the top of her list. He doubted he even made the list as an option.

Knowing Raphael was lying then, too, Splinter simply lifted his chin at him, and waited for the real answer.

The silence was getting to be too much for him. He jammed his sai into the mat, stabbing through it. But in his face was sadness, not anger. He finally admitted, "I just want to be accepted. Even just by her." Fiddling with his sai, he averted his eyes to stare at something random next to him, adding quietly, a little bashfully: "Aaaaaand sometimes I think Leo has a…better shot than me. That's why we were fightin'. I went nuts because he was gettin' along with her and it made me feel some stuff I don't want to feel."

There it was, thought Splinter, bingo. "Well, you are certainly not the first young man to make a fool of yourself over a girl."

"Master, I don't even know what to do with myself. How am I ever gonna know what to do with her?"

"The first step would be to stop ruining my mat," Splinter said as he bonked his son's head with the end of his cane, irked that he was creating a hole in it with his sai. Raph quickly tucked his weapon away. He muttered an apology. Splinter cleared his throat before continuing. "The second step would be for you to face your fears, Raphael. Accept them, conquer them. You are as you are—what humanity thinks of you is not your concern. You know who you are. I would like to think that [y/n] does as well."

Raph shifted, uncomfortable. "Yeah, I don't think she does. I don't really…"

She was all too kind, beautiful, and smart; a deadly, terrifying combination, in his predicament. He'd been plagued with dreams of being with her night after night. Not worrying about a single thing until the moment he woke up—he was stressing every morning. His anxieties always seemed to curse him cropping up in his dreams; not even in sleep could he escape her sphere of influence.

Placing a gentle hand on Raphael's shoulder, Splinter looked down at him, "Then, you show her who you really are. Raphael."

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]

Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.

Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.

Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.

Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.

6.8k+

Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!

Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.

Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.

“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.

“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”

Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.

He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.

“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.

Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.

He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.

You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.

In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.

“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.

“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.

“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.

Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.

The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.

Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.

“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.

“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  

“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”

A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.

Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.

“Get back here, scavver!”

Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.

“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.

“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.

“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.

Hancock almost shivered.

But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.

“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”

“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.

---

“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.

Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.

“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.

Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.

“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.

“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.

“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.

“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 

“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.

“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.

You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.

---

You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.

The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.

You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.

John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.

While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 

Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.

The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.

That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.

“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.

You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.

You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.

“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.

Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.

“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.

“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”

“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.

“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.

“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.

“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”

You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.

He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.

“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.

Hancock didn’t take the bait.

“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.

“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.

“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.

“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.

“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.

You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.

Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 

“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.

“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.

In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.

“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 

“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 

“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.

“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.

The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.

“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.

“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.

“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 

“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 

“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 

You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 

You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 

Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 

He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.

He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 

The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 

The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.

“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.

“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 

“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 

“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 

“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.

“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 

You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.

“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 

“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  

“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 

“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 

“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 

“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 

“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 

“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.

Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.

The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 

You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 

“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 

For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.

A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 

“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.

“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.

“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.

He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 

“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.

“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.

“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 

“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 

“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 

But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 

"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 

“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 

You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.

“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 

“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.

You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 

Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.

“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 

You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.

Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.

“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 

“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.

“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.

Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 

Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.

Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.

“Nothing to lose but each other.”

[oceanic-sunsets]

Mike around El and his very obvious Not-Crush

I want to start this off with a disclaimer: I interpret Mike as gay, so this analysis and the points I’ll bring up were written with this in mind. Now, let’s begin! 

Since my first watch, I always thought it was kind of weird-funny how Mike never showed any kind of shyness towards El, unlike the other boys, who the audience and characters in-universe never think of as having a crush on El. 

So they know El is a girl pretty early on, so when she first goes home with Mike and he lends her dry clothes, everyone freaks out when she tries to change right there in front of them. Pretty normal reaction for anyone, especially 12 year old boys! So, even in the middle of their freak out, Mike remains as the most well composed of the boys.

He doesn’t turn around, instead, is quick to stop her, even reaching out towards her arms, and explain she should change in the bathroom, because, well, privacy. 

He even guides El towards the bathroom door, and we know that he tries to close it but El stops him. So, he understands, she’s still scared, and again, explains she can keep it mostly closed, leaving a small gap open so she feels safer. 

And then Mike goes to talk with Lucas and Dustin, who are still freaking out and talking about how she’s crazy, Lucas remarks “She tried to get naked” and Dustin makes the same hand gesture three times to really drive his point across. 

And Mike? remains calm, really, his head is elsewhere, not stuck on the fact that a random, weird girl tried to change her clothes in front of them. Instead, his gears are turning, he’s already coming up with a plan so they can stay out of trouble, so she can be safe, and they can keep looking for Will: El has to stay the night, which Dustin finds insane.

So, I first interpreted these kind of scenes as Mike being the more mature one of the boys. He NEVER goes “but she’s a girl!” the other characters are the ones who keep pointing that out to him. But really, Mike just treats her like a human being (and then he discovers she has superpowers). 

And really, it’s funny how fascinating they keep finding this, but not surprising. Again, this is a normal reaction! that’s why I thought Mike was just the logical, more mature one. But that’s not really why: he just never made a distinction or a big fuss to separate THEM, boys, and El, a GIRL, until later on when people kept bringing that up. For Mike, El was just another kid just like them, he shows her his house, his TV, his toys, and has no issue getting close and just treating her like another friend. 

There’s another reason that points to the Duffers being aware of what they’re trying to do. It’s subtle if you’re not looking for it, and really, it just flies under most people’s radars, including our own! 

So we all know this scene, right?  

The first instance of Mike being directly told he has to have a crush on her, because… he is nice to her, and she’s a girl. So, clearly. And then the bullies arrive, call Will homophobic slurs and Mike gets hurt, we know how that one goes. But you know the scene that plays directly before this one? 

It’s Nancy. They’re making fun of her/shaming her because she hooked up with Steve, and we know how this plot goes too: the girl is slut-shamed and the boy is praised/admired for “getting” her. Nancy is worried because she left Barb alone and the next thing she knows, her friend is missing too. And she doesn’t feel guilty just because she dismissed Barb, she feels shame, and the kind of comment she’s receiving just adds to the guilt. 

And all this? it’s part of heteronormativity too, and all its social standards of what’s expected of people based on their gender and sexuality. Nancy? A slut for hooking up with Steve. Will? probably killed for being gay! The boys? get bullied just as Lucas is hugging Mike, even if it’s part of a joke. Mike? must like El, because he is a boy who is nice to her, and she’s a girl! See where I’m going? 

Next scene I’m going to talk about is this one: 

And… It’s a great scene, really. But nothing about it is romantic. The boys help El dress up, and Mike even does her makeup and doesn’t mind! and, I’m sorry, but what 12 year old with a crush is NOT nervous to be that close? he’s just 100% concentrated in what he’s doing.

And then El comes out, full makeover, and Mike’s reaction is just very sweet and genuine. Dustin hesitates: “She looks…” and Mike immediately goes “pretty”. Now, some people interpret this scene as Mike finally Realizing El is Actually a Girl. I both agree and disagree. 

I agree because that’s how it probably goes for Mike, just now in the sense most people expect. We should keep in mind the previous scenes: Mike is now aware of what other people think/what is expected of him. So he goes “pretty”, and oh, no, she’s a Girl, I can’t say that! they’re going to think I have a crush on her! “...pretty good” saved it:) but wait. That just makes it look even more like a crush! So maybe it is a crush, right? So, I think of this scene as the moment of Mike deciding that yeah, it must be a crush, making now a distinction between “friend” and “girl”.

Other people have mentioned how particular this choice is: why would they have Mike next to El in the mirror? in the same scene where she’s presenting herself as Actually a Girl for the first time, wearing a pink dress, next to Mike, a Boy, who is even wearing blue! I don’t even think this analysis classifies as far-fetched for the same reason I mentioned earlier: the themes of the show are clear since the beginning, and plots like Nancy’s, Will’s, and later on El’s (and Max's) support that. Mike’s, however? it comes across as subtle (because really, it’s not), but it’s always been there, and the way the Wheelers are portrayed as a family confirms that too. 

 I don’t think he consciously makes the choice to pretend, more like it makes sense for him too, and the future events of the show just keep reinforcing this idea: she’s a girl with superpowers, who saves him and his friends many times, and people keep telling him he likes her! why wouldn’t he like her? And then there’s also survivor’s guilt but uhh… Let’s not go there, that’s another whole analysis. 

It’s now time to talk about my least favorite topic: mlvn’s kisses. They have never been portrayed as genuinely romantic to me, even if I did think the snowball one was sweet when I first watched it. But that’s the thing: it’s cute, I guess, but it’s just there like a point you have to mark as done in a checklist. Entirely different to Lucas’ and Max’s scenes: Lucas hesitates when he asks Max to dance, and he’s clearly nervous, exhaling before asking, and their kiss is awkwardly endearing, genuine, and realistic for their age unlike anything in Mike and El’s relationship and… The beginning of s3 is proof of that. It’s almost like they’re kissing to prove a point: El is older now, and Mike is her boyfriend, they kiss like in the soap operas! (for Hopper’s and the audience’s dismay) and for Mike, well, El is his girlfriend, that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? (as he takes her hands off him). 

Going back to the snowball, Mike plays the “date” role too perfectly. He does exactly what he should: he tells El she looks beautiful and asks her to dance, again, no hesitance. They dance and he kisses her… You guessed it, no hesitance. You could argue that it’s because it’s not their first thing, but the thing is… That one was a mess. It was out of nowhere, after talking about being family, as if Mike suddenly thought “yeah I think I should do this” and went for it. And… Did El even know what a kiss was? 

Anyway, back to s3. They break up and all that, supernatural shit happens and oh! Mike tells a whole room of people that he loves El! how can that not be proof that he at least has a crush? well. Because Mike is not lying, just as he wasn’t lying when he called her pretty. He does love her, wants her to be safe because she’s his friend, and feels responsible for her safety (for many reasons). The thing is… Mike is aware of the Implications of the word.

He is being honest. He’s also confusing his feelings for romantic ones, just like he has since mid-s1. What’s the difference between the “ily” plot in s3 and in s4, then? wouldn’t that just be a repeat of the same? 

No. This is a point of debate and I know we have different opinions on “When Did Mike Realize”, but for me, the contrast between this plot in s3 vs s4 is that s3 Mike is unaware, while in S4 he’s IS aware Throughout s3 (and before) he genuinely thinks his feelings are romantic. Until THIS happens

 …and suddenly he’s confused, thinking it makes no sense. I choose to interpret it this way because it’s supported by the S3 script, which portrays Mike as confused and wondering what is wrong with him. This would’ve been a great moment to portray Mike as endearingly nervous/shy: they’ve been broken up and it seems like no one had said anything that hinted at a romantic relationship during that time. If Mike had romantic feelings for El, he should’ve been thrilled, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t even smile. But it’s not disgust, it’s confusion. He’s starting to question things. To what degree? we do not know. 

We can, however, infer from the events of S4 that he knows something. 

The airport scene is as sad as it is funny, because this is probably the first instance in the whole show that we see Mike Wheeler acting nervous-shy in the way you would in front of a crush: 

(Exhibit A)

(Exhibit B)

ok, Mike, Will didn’t imply otherwise? are you trying to convince him or yourself? 

(Exhibit C)

(Exhibit D)

This whole conversation is so insane because everyone is so focused noticing Will’s crush that they miss Mike’s behavior? Mike, who during this conversation hesitates a lot, chooses his words carefully, exhales, you can see him swallow and just. He looks more nervous here than in the entirety of ALL his scenes with El on the show.

I could keep going on about s4, really, because there’s a lot to unpack there. But this is getting too long!

[wanderersrest]

Mecha's "I'm Not Like the Other Girls" Problem

Preface: I'd like to apologize to everyone who reads this post. Normally, my posts are pretty lighthearted and informative. This one, however, is not lighthearted.

I feel it is important to talk about this topic though, as this is a problem that has been plaguing mecha shows for a long time now. It bothers me when people dismiss the things that I like *gestures at G Gundam*, so it should be of no surprise that I have strong feelings about this topic. It's pretty adjacent to the reason why I don't like the "Real vs Super Robot" dick-measuring contests that happen between fans, especially as someone whose favorite mecha show gets a lot of heat because of that stupid debate.

Part of what makes it worse is that I don't dislike these shows a whole lot. Okay, two of them I don't like a whole lot, but one is because its second season really drops the ball on things while the other is, in my opinion, a pretty mediocre show that is being propped up as the hottest thing since sliced bread by its fans.

I'm also going to be talking about gen:Lock, a show that I hate from pure pop cultural osmosis. So content warning: suicide, children getting killed, and gen:Lock, among other things.

Stop me if you've heard this one before:

"Evangelion's not like other mecha shows because it focuses on the character drama instead of the robots."

If you've ever watched any mecha show ever, you'd realize just how bizarre this line really is. There's always some variation where it'll be the favorite series of the person saying this and, when confronted, will bare their ass out for the world to see by showing that they have not watched any other mecha show. If you're lucky, they might have watched one or two other mecha shows, and chances are likely that it will be one of the other "Not Like the Other Girl" shows.

So today, for something a bit lighter in comparison to my soul-crushing Abbreviated History of Mecha, I'm going to take my turn dismantling this braindead take. Really take my turn at this dead horse, because it is something that plagues this genre of stories.

Context: Evangelion's Legacy Is Exaggerated

Thank you, cast of the hit anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion. I felt brave just saying that.

Jokes aside, I feel it is important to get this out of the way now. And, to be fair, Evangelion is critically acclaimed for a reason. Eva's success did leave an impact on the rest of the industry. A whole generation of anime shows have tried to capture the same energy that Eva had, leading to the rise of the extremely nebulous sekai-kei trend. This isn't even touching on the fact that Eva is also one of the most popular mecha franchises of all time.

That being said, the problem with Eva's legacy is that people in the west exaggerated its legacy. So instead of it being an important series that builds off of the legacy of the shows it was inspired by in order to create something new and just as noteworthy as its forebears, it is now this transgressive series that brutally deconstructs mecha on top of everything mentioned prior. Evangelion became a series that was more than most mecha shows, since it really spends a lot of its time with its characters, particularly the Eva pilots and their handler. Evangelion was different because it was about the characters and not the giant robots.

...Except, that's not true.

This is Ideon Erasure

One of the shows that inspired Evangelion, Space Runaway Ideon, is about as serious as they come. It's a story about the horrors of war, and the characters have to contend with this and press on. And while it might not be as introspective as say Evangelion, the difference is what both had as inspiration: Ideon only had shows like Space Battleship Yamato, Voltes V, Zambot 3, and Mobile Suit Gundam as reference points. Evangelion has all four of those shows as well as other shows like Fang of the Sun Dougram, Super Dimension Fortress Macross, and Legend of the Galactic Heroes among other shows to reference

I'm not saying that those shows also influenced Evangelion. I'm just pointing out that, in the history of mecha, Eva has more things to be compared to. And to be fair to the people who kickstarted the "Eva's not like the other girls" mentality, the west's experience with mecha prior to Eva was either shows like Transformers, which existed largely to sell toys, or shows like Gundam Wing, where a lot of the show can be seen as "Wow, cool robot." So along comes Evangelion with its esoteric Christian imagery, brooding protagonists, and eldritch antagonists. It's really nothing anyone in the west has seen before, and so the "Not Like the Other Girls" meme is born.

And now, I'd like to go into debunking this line of thinking with a lot of the big offenders. Because it turns out that Evangelion is not the only show to get this treatment. And if you thought Eva was a bad example of "Not Being Like the Other Girls," then oh boy are these examples somehow worse.

Case Study 1 - Code Geass: Casval Lelouch of the Rebellion

Code Geass is probably the closest example to in terms of being "Not Like the Other Girls" that isn't Evagenlion itself. Like Evangelion before it, Code Geass has more of a focus on its characters than its mech action. A fair bit of screen time is spent focused on the politicking and strategizing and brainwashing (with actual, factual magic) of our main character, Lelouch Code Geass Lamperouge, with all of the shenanigans that ensue. It's a series with a unique spin on the military robot shows of old due to its inclusion of magic (namely the titular Geass) and advanced super materials like Sakuradite (based off of the mythical metal hi'hiirokane or scarletite).

The problem with Code Geass being a "Not Like the Other Girls" show is twofold:

The robots of Code Geass, here known as Knightmare Frames, play a pivotal part in the story. The Knightmare Frames are what allow Britannia to take over the world as well as they do, and a big focus on the series is just how advanced the latest Knightmare Frame, Lancelot, is compared to the other Knightmare Frames. Season 2 exacerbates this problem when the elite Knightmare Frames like Lancelot are constantly getting exponentially more upgrades throughout the season.

It's also hard not to ignore the similarities between this show and Mobile Suit Gundam (the original, not the franchise as a whole). Consider that Code Geass' main character is, for lack of a better word, a Char clone. He wears a mask and oftentimes hides his true motives, which helps when it comes time for politics. He's even got a special power that helps him with his core skills. The only thing Lelouch is lacking is the piloting skill, which is where Kallen Kouzuki comes in (and fun fact: her signature Knightmare Frame, the Guren MK II, is red).

Oh, I should also mention this here: before working on Code Geass, Goro Taniguchi worked on Gun x Sword, which is unabashedly a giant robot anime. Does this really add anything to my point? Not really. I just think it's interesting to point this out due to Gun x Sword's proximity to Code Geass in terms of release dates.

Case Study 2 - Tengen Toppa Getter Robo Gurren Lagann

Probably the single most insane version of this is when people treat Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann as being "Not Like the Other Girls."

Y'know... Gurren Lagann. The show where the giant robots grow as large as the known universe. A show where one of the major thematic elements is a celebration of giant robot shows that's reflected in the four major story arcs representing a distillation of the four decades of giant robot shows from as early as Mazinger Z. A show where the main character draws a lot of his self worth from, among other things, how well he pilots his mini robot (a gender-swapped Noa Izumi, if you will).

Oh, and most important of all: this is also the show written by, and I'm not making this up, a man who refers to himself as Getter Robo's number one fan.

This doesn't even touch on other shows that one could argue also had a hand in influencing Gurren Lagann like Mobile Fighter G Gundam and The King of Braves, GaoGaiGar. Look me in the eye and tell me that Kamina wasn't written with characters like Domon Kasshu and Guy Shishioh in mind. Or the fact that Simon the Digger is less Ryouma Nagare and more Domon Kasshu by way of Guy Shishioh.

In the case of Gurren Lagann, though, it should also be of no surprise that this is the series brought up the least amongst the "Not Like the Other Girls" shows. A big part of this stems from, as I mentioned earlier, the fact that Gurren Lagann is a celebration of giant robots.

...What's that? Why does it sound like an axe is being sharpened in the background? No, reader, you're hearing things. I clearly don't have an axe to grind with the next show.

Case Study 3 - Armored Trooper 86: Eighty Six

Part of what I hate about the modern seasonal anime release schedule is that it's created an entire generation of anime fans who refuse to watch any series that released before 2010. This line of thinking can be pretty dangerous, and this is coming from a guy who's always saying the newer Pokemon games are generally better than the older ones. The difference is twofold:

Pokemon isn't anywhere near as old as all of anime. Like it's not even close to being that old.

This only really applies to core game mechanics in the mainline non-Legends games. It doesn't really take into account things like story elements, Pokemon rosters, or generation design differences (read as: is the game pre- or post-Physical/Special split).

I'm bringing this up because I feel like the seasonal anime format is the reason why 86: Eighty Six became a "Not Like the Other Girl" show. As someone who watches a lot of mecha shows, 86 is just...

...it's there. It exists. In my opinion, 86 doesn't really have a whole to say outside of racism is bad and look at how much Shin and company suffer because of it. Everything 86 does has been done before in some fashion by literally every military robot series that existed prior to 86's first publication in 2017. Heck, two years prior to it's publication was the first airing of Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans, the then-latest entry in the Gundam franchise. And that series is all about how unfettered capitalism makes it almost impossible for the marginalized to survive without having to resort to violence.

But I think it's folly to suggest fans of 86 to go watch Iron-Blooded Orphans. Not because it's bad, which I'd argue that it's not. No, it's more because IBO is too recent. Part of the problem with the "Not Like the Other Girls" mentality is that people will limit themselves into only watching one show, oftentimes failing to see that part of what makes their favorite show so special is the fact that it is inspired by other works. For people who like 86, it would be better to recommend shows like Armored Trooper VOTOMs, Fang of the Sun Dougram (or really any military robot series directed by Ryousuke Takahashi), or even the original Gundam from 1979. But as harsh as I may be on 86, it's not the worst offender. I'd even go so far as to say that 86 is, at worst, a symptom. I think the real problem lies with the next series I'm going to talk about.

The Worst Offender - gen:Lock

If you thought I disliked 86 because of how its fans hype it up as being better and so much different than the rest of the canon, at least 86 is a pretty entertaining watch.

gen:Lock makes me turn into AM from I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream. To describe the enmity I have towards gen:Lock is not something I want to fully unload on this blog, as it is this series that really kicked the "Not Like the Other Girls" mentality into overdrive. gen:Lock was once described by one of its executive producers as being about the characters and not the robots. Which kind of spits in the face of the canon of mecha in its entirety, as the entire genre has almost never really frontlined the machines as being the main character. And when mecha stories are about the machines, the machine tends to be a character in its own right.

And if I'm being honest, part of what makes me so livid about gen:Lock is how this series basically funneled away funds from other projects at Rooster Teeth. That's what got series creator Gray Haddock fired, after all. So you can't even say that season one, which I've been told is a pretty decent season, is okay in comparison. So even if the "It's not about the mecha" line is supposed to be marketing speak, the behind-the-scenes nonsense still sullies the show. I don't even think I need to touch on the mess that is gen:Lock season 2; between the poorly animated sex scene, the sudden killing of a recently-outed queer character, and the fact that one of the main characters, and later the entire main cast, get rewarded for committing suicide... Yeah. Let's just move on before a blow a fuse.

Magic Knight Rayearth Is Actually Not Like the Other Girls

I think part of what makes all of this so absurd is that there is a series that can actually be considered "Not Like the Other Girls."

It's Magic Knight Rayearth.

A lot of what helps in this case is that Rayearth is, primarily, a magical girl series. That is not to say that Rayearth is not a mecha show though, as the Rune Gods play a pivotal role in the series. Not helping things is the fact that the Rune Gods are literally an extension of their magic knight's personalities, which is true of pretty much every giant robot ever. But, by being a magical girl series first and foremost, Rayearth approaches giant robots from a unique angle due to the world of Cephiro being similar to that of a fantasy JRPG setting where willpower determines everything. So the Rune Gods end up being real, living creatures that take the form of giant robots, as opposed to just being giant robots that exist in the setting.

Except it's still a giant robot series. Everything I just said doesn't suddenly mean that Magic Knight Rayearth is no longer a mecha show.

Conclusion

Look. I get it. These shows are great. Okay, gen:Lock isn't, but the other four are. I get it. The people who trot out this line do it because they love the series they're putting up on a pedestal. My issue comes with the putting it up on a pedestal part. It has a tendency to displace other shows that are just as worthy of praise, and in some cases maybe even better depending on the viewer, than the "Not Like the Other Girl" shows. So, to close this rant out, I'd like to suggest some shows for people whose only experience with mecha are one of the "Not Like the Other Girls" shows.

If you like...

...Neon Genesis Evangelion, you might be interested in checking out Ultraman, Mobile Suit Gundam, Space Runaway Ideon, Aura Battler Dunbine, Patlabor (either the TV or OVA timeline), or Gargantia on the Verduous Planet.

...Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion, you might be interested in checking out Mobile Suit Gundam (again), Fang of the Sun Dougram, Patlabor (the OVA timeline this time), Gun x Sword, or Psalm of Planets Eureka Seven.

...Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, you might like Mazinger Z, Getter Robo, Gunbuster, Mobile Fighter G Gundam, The King of Braves GaoGaiGar, Back Arrow, SSSS.Gridman, SSSS.Dynazenon, and Gridman Universe.

...86: Eighty Six or gen:Lock, you might like Mobile Suit Gundam (pretty much any series that isn't G or Build), Armored Trooper VOTOMs (or really anything related to Ryousuke Takahashi), Metal Armor Dragonar, Patlabor (See Evangelion above), or Full Metal Panic!.

...Magic Knight Rayearth, you might be interested in Aura Battler Dunbine, Panzer World Galient, Patlabor (the TV timeline), Mobile Fighter G Gundam (yes really), or The Vision of Escaflowne.

And thanks for reading my rant. Next time, something else!

[iamhereonlytobeanunstableshipper]

Ok so. I just saw a Reddit comment (idk why I get on reddit fandom cause it always ends up making me mad) saying that the Alastor and Husk scene was probably the first time Alastor was that violent towards Husk because of him talking back to Al in the first place.

Aka, Alastor isn't abusive to Husk, except for that one time. And ISTG that comment made me want to crawl into the darkest pit of hell (ha, get it?).

SO, let's explain why Alastor's treatment of Husk isn't a one time thing.

Husk and abuse: a character analysis.

First of all, let's explain Husk's personality and why he acts the way he does.

Husk's character is presented to us as a grumpy old alcoholic who only wants people to leave him the fuck alone. He doesn't care about the hotel, about any of its members, or about Alastor's plans. He doesn't want to collaborate, he doesn't want to be there, and he doesn't care enough to act as though he does.

But, reality is:

Husk cares. Way more than he wishes he did.

He doesn't show it often, but he cares. He shows it when he calls Sir Pentious, Charlie, Vaggie and Angel out at the beginning of Masquerade, and ofc, he shows it with Angel throughout this whole chapter.

(I find the heart motif on Husk's demon form to be very interesting, actually. I like to think that one of the things Husk hates the most about himself is that, as much as he wants to fake otherwise, as much as he sees it as a weakness, as much as it just complicates everything, he cares. And death taunts him with that, displaying for everyone to see the heart he so desperately wants to hide.)

Also, Husk is very good at reading people. He hates fakeness, he hates lies, he hates people being dense because they're trying to ignore a reality about themselves.

All of these things get on his nerves enough to show that he, in fact, cares.

And he sure as fuck loves (maybe a bit too much) winning an argument against someone who's pissing him off.

So, let's go to Alastor.

A while ago I saw an amazing post (that now i cant find aaaa if someone finds it pls let me know) that talked about how this isn't the expression of someone who's just been beaten at poker, but it's an expression of sadness and betrayal.

This post implied, therefore, that Husk and Alastor had built a previous relationship of trust before the betrayal, either platonic or romantic (which had been just manipulation from Alastor's side, just like he's now doing with Charlie)

If we take this into account, it makes more sense why Husk would care about Mimzy being trouble. Not only for the safety of the rest at the hotel, but also just a tiny little bit, for Alastor's own safety.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very sure that Husk hates Alastor, but there's this tiny, annoying part of him that can't help but care.

So, let's cut to the infamous scene.

Husk didn't confront Alastor because he had never been violent towards him before. Husk confronted Alastor because he cares, and because people being stupid gets on his nerves, and because he finds it hard to hold back when he knows he's right.

Also, it had been 7 years since he had seen Alastor. It's normal that he's gained more confidence to confront him.

AND, despite all of this, he was reluctant in the beggining.

In the first screenshot, Husk gets visibly angry at Alastor because of his dismissive attitude while his back is turned at him. But when Husk speaks again, you can see him visibly holding back, choosing his words carefully with that "I mean".

(Go rewatch the scene if you wanna, it's way more clear that way than via screenshots ksdldf)

Compare this to the much more accusatory way Husk was calling out Chaggie, Sir Pentious and Angel in back chapter 4. Husk is being careful with Alastor.

Despite all we know about Husk's personality that leads him to warn Alastor about Mimzy in the first place, Husk still holds all of that back.

Why? Cause he knows better than to say something that might anger him.

It's only when Alastor touches Husk and calls him his pet that Husk loses his temper.

As we know, Husk has VERY strong personal boundaries (probably some of them come from Alastor's touch itself)

Alastor trespassing his boundaries is what makes Husk stop thinking logically. He's pissed, and he hates Alastor, and he hates how he makes him feel so powerless, so insignificant, like less of a human.

And he bites back.

The comment I saw implied that Husk said the "big talk for someone who's also on a leash" because he thought it wouldn't have any major effect on Alastor, and he unknowingly touched a touchy subject.

But this is even slightly out of character for Husk. He didn't say it because he didn't think it would make Alastor mad, he said it because he knew it would make him mad.

Husk is fucking amazing at reading people. He knew it was a touchy subject. He wasn't thinking about consequences, he was thinking about pissing Alastor off, about regaining control.

(He's a gambler, cmon. Searching for control and power without minding the consequences is his thing.)

This is NOT a "what the fuck is he doing?" face. It's an "oh no, not again" face.

And immediately, he tries to take it back. The rush of making Alastor mad passes away the moment he pulls out the chain, and Husk knows what's coming.

Alastor has done that before. Judging by Husk's body language, there's NO way on earth he hasn't.

One VERY important thing to take into account is: victims have personalities.

Of course, victims tend to have unifying factors in their trauma responses due to similar experiences, but overall: a victim isn't an archetype, it's a person.

There are different types of abuse. Everyone reacts differently towards abuse.

Saying that Husk isn't being abused by Alastor just because he talks back is. Well. Kinda weird, isn't it?

(Maybe I'm exaggerating but doesn't it sound like victim blaming a bit??)

The important thing is that this is how Valentino and Alastor treat Angel and Husk:

Yes, they are different types of abuse. Yes, Angel and Husk's reactions to it are different.

But this doesn't make one kind less valid than the other. And just because Alastor isn't sexually abusive to Husk, that doesn't mean Husk's abuse is "less important" (this isn't a competition, ffs)

Husk's personality, Husk's hatred of stupidity, Husk's reactive nature, Husk's strong boundaries, don't automatically disappear when he's talking with his abuser. He's still Husk.

And yet, we can still see the signs of abuse, such as Husk holding back at the beginning because he knows what Alastor may do if he's mad, or him flinching away slightly when Alastor turns suddenly to look at him, or him trying to take back what he just said immediately because he's scared of the consequences.

And, let's be serious. Alastor is a serial killer. He enjoys watching people suffer. He enjoys knowing that people fear him.

And, since he's on a "leash", as Husk said, I'm very sure this hurts his ego a whole lot. So, it makes sense that he loves feeling that he has control over the souls he owns, that they fear him, to forget he's not completely free himself.

It's not so far fetched to assume that Alastor gets a quick and an ego boost out of seeing Husk like that, terrified and shivering on the ground. So I don't believe he hasn't done it before.

(And I mean, even if this only happened the one time we see it in the show, it would still be abusive?? It would be Alastor using his power to physically and psychologically torment Husk, which is abuse, even if it's only once ((which i highly doubt)))

In conclusion: Alastor is an abuser. There's no way around it. And Husk is a victim of abuse.

Sorry this got long SLKDS

Tbh I think everything I said here is pretty obvious?? Like to me that scene always read as a way of the show telling us Alastor's true colors once no one's watching, and the way he treats Husk. Like, it didn't even cross my mind that it might have been an isolated occurrence.

But the comment had around 50 upvotes so?? Idk I just wanted to rant about this lmao

[livseses]

Spiritual Systems and DID

We always find it annoying at best, and downright dismissive or invalidating at worse, when we see folks talking about spiritual systems as being "completely different from" CDD systems.

They can be sure. Absolutely a CDD system can view themselves entirely as psychological, and spiritual systems can be wholly unrelated to disorder.

But they don't have to.

We're a spiritual system. We're supposedly "completely different from" people with DID. Apparently when one of our headmates takes over our body, that's something totally separate and distinct from a switch. When we hear our headmates talking to us, that's nothing like internal communication. When one of us has a lot of emotions about something that bleeds over to front, that's a phenomenon wholly unrelated to passive influence. And when one of us feels like something happened to another person piloting our body, well that's completely different from dissociation/emotional amnesia.

I bet you're going to tell us that when we forget things beyond the norm, that's nothing like amnesia too.

But here's the catch: we're diagnosed with DID.

So what? Are we wrong about our spiritual explanation? Well then that means all of those other spiritual systems could be just as wrong about their experiences. Which seems to kinda fly in the face of the hard line exclusion between the two. Is someone out here going to prove the existence of spirits to add to the diagnostic toolkit? Are there no such things and there's a psychological explanation that may or may not have some similarities to CDDs?

So are we wrong about the diagnosis? Idk what else really fits the cluster of symptoms involving distress and dysfunction around having multiple personality states and amnesia. Its definitely not a normal part of accepted cultural practice. Trauma fucked that right up. The DID therapy we're in seems to be tackling our trauma much better than any therapy we were in before the diagnosis. And at the end of the day, I trust our diagnostician much more than anyone on the internet about this. Again, that hard line doesn't really make a whole lot of sense. If we can't have a CDD because we believe many of our headmates are souls from another world, well shit did we find a cure for DID? Present them with the belief that got ghosts in their butt?

(Low key, that has been a helpful for our recovery, but that's more to do with acceptance and letting go.)

We're a system that's made up of spirits and traumatized girlies. And the lines between those two categories are blurry (heh) at best. Telling us that our experiences are completely separate from our experiences is silly.

Instead of saying that this category is completely separate from and has no overlap with this other category, can we all just allow for those blurry places to exist? I'm not saying to call every instance of spiritual plurality some form of CDD. I'm not saying that CDD spaces need to be flooded with spiritual plurals that have no disorder. Im not even saying that they're always or even often the same thing. CDD spaces should be talking about CDD stuff. But sometimes CDD stuff includes the experiences of spiritual systems.

I'm asking that we leave room for overlap. Sometimes the broad category of "is a bunch of people" will have crossovers with the different subcategories.

[booksandmore]

I’m sorry but CC only has herself to blame for making TMI known as “the incest books” in all of the reading communities outside of TSC fandom.

She herself ruined TMI becoming as big as it could’ve been & TSC in general by putting incest in all 6 books of TMI…That’s why no one posts about it on Booktwt or Booktok..

There’s no point in being upset at readers judging TMI for having incest in it when that’s a valid criticism.. Clace kissed multiple times for three books all while not being officially sure whether or not they were related or not..then CC got petty & doubled down on the incest after being criticized for it already & had Clary kiss her biological brother in book three after people already hated it with Clace in the first two books.

Clary’s brother almost rapes her in book five and tries kissing her in the last book. TSC is not GOT where it gets a pass. Non TSC stans really want a LI calling his girlfriend’s Dad his own Dad 💀 Jace was calling Clary’s brother his brother while being romantically involved with Clary. Just because he was adopted by Valentine as a kid didn’t make it normal for Cassie to have Jace call himself a Morgenstern or to call his girlfriend’s brother his own brother.

TMI hate = CC’s own fault.. any TMI stan bitterness should be directed at her own questionable writing choices. Sorry but seeing TMI stans hating that TMI is judged for this all when it’s the authors own fault is weird yk? It’s been too long, Cassie understands why TMI gets hate. As a TMI stan it makes me upset that she dragged the incest on the entire series because I can’t proudly ever talk about Clace, Seb or TMI as a whole because she got weird with the writing in that series on purpose to spite people who criticized the incest in Books 1-2. It was petty for her to drag on incest for that long knowing people hated it..It’s her fault.

I’m tired of people outside of the fandom being judged for not liking the incest for Clary with two Mmc’s when..it’s valid not to like or be comfortable with. TMI stans always having to make excuses for her too is even sadder bc it’s not our fault or other readers’ it’s the authors fault for putting that in a fun YA series that didn’t need incest AT ALL. That’s probably why the show was a flop and the movie, no one could take the series seriously with that arc for Clary with Jace and her brother Sebastian..

no yes i totally get it!! it is frusterating to see tmi get dismissed but im not gonna force anyone to do anything they dont like. it’s valid to not want to interact with something cause it grosses you out, i’ve definitly done that before as well. we all have our limits and that’s okay!! that said feel free to ignore the rest of this i just wanted to explain my thoughts more thoroughly but it got a bit long😭you might not like anon sorry

first of, i do admit it’s been a while since my reread and also, i haven’t touched the other series since i first read them so i can really only speak for tmi rn, and if i get anything wrong that’s on me

i should probably clarify that my original posts were create because i was just so baffled that people were sayong cc has some kind of incest kink and that’s why she was forcing it into her books. like?? an author choosing to engage with darker taboo topics doesn’t mean they’re into it im pretty sure. its not like i know her personally, but if she had a kink i sort of suspect it would show up in the rest of her books yk? is it really that hard to imagine that she’d include it for a reason?😭

for me, maybe because i’m used to books like the secre t history or older classics, i tend to look past the taboo of it and focus on what it does for the story/reveals about charchterization, if that makes sense?

i think that tmi is very much about family, and sebastian having these fucked up views about family (where he mistakes romantic love for familial love) really goes to show how horrible valentine was as a father, and how terribly he was treated and how desperate he was for love. i think he doesnt know what it means to be loved by family and that’s why he substitutes it with something else. cause i think that deep down inside he does have a normal brotherly love for clary, its just that he doesnt know any other way to show that

for me the incest thing is a plot device and it frusterates me how no one wants to engage with it that way. could it have been done differently? probabaly. but they don’t even try to examining why it’s there at all! they don’t bother analyzing or asking, hey, does the author have any particular reason for putting this here, or writing it the way she did? they just dismiss it as gross and go away. but i really do think it has a purpose and point in the story that gets lost on a lot of people

the thing is, it’s meant to be uncomfortable! it’s meant to be gross! it should weird you out!! i doubt cc meant it to be viewed positively, especially when neither the charchters nor the narrative does. it’s meant to show how badly these adults and this society have fucked up these children, and robbed them of being able to love freely and safely yk?

most of my frusteration really just comes from how puritanical fandom has been. you can choose not to engage with something if it grosses you out, that’s fine and valid and we’ve all done that before. but looking down on someone for wanting to engage with it objectively is??? i think it’s just etiquette to not engage with what you don’t like. block the tag. curate your own experience. that kinda stuff

again anon if you chose to read this anyway i really do respect and understand what you’re saying. i’m really sorry if i came across as mean or rude but like. i really really love tmi and i cannot tolerate it being dismissed like that

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

Sorry for the incoming rant ignore at your leisure:

Am I delulu for assuming Kishi writes Naruto events in a vacuum? Like he will like an idea put into the story with no care for how it would influence the other ideas in it. Like the whole Uchiha massacre is such a cool plot idea in part one that has you thinking about why an entire clan is gone and who could even be able to do something like that. Then you start to think for about five minutes and it’s just like huh?

Unless Konoha erected a sound barrier around the Uchiha compound you mean to tell me no one heard or saw them trying to escape or heard their screams? It would have been cool to see how Orwellian Konoha had gotten if Kishi had shown people just ignoring them asking for help or just blocking it out with ear plugs or something. The Uchiha were given the Police force to control, and you mean to tell me not one of them had built a meaningful relationship outside of their clan?

The Hyuga are the only other dojutsu clan in Konoha now that the Uchiha are gone and that doesn’t worry them? Konoha has stopped being the protection it once was and now it’s harming the Hyuga more than helping. It’s weird how Hiashi doesn’t take Sasuke in afterwards with the excuse that the Hyuga are only ones that could reasonably help him with his dojutsu, betroth him to Hanabi and leave.

Idk I think Kishi had some interesting elements laid out in Naruto and it’s disappointing to see them not taken that extra step forward. I know Naruto is a shonen and what I’m talking about is probably a whole other genre, but it hurts to see some of the potential in Naruto left aside.

Hi there anon. Please, bring all the rants you want, I love ranting! And I feel you! Totally!

About people not hearing anything during the massacre, I always assumed it was because their compound was located in the outskirts and probably far from the rest of the village. That is why Danzo wanted to segregate them, to make them easier to control and easier to kill. But I think it is safe to assume that the Uchiha didn't really have friendly relationships with the rest of the clans of Konoha. I believe there must have been a bias against them, not only because they were forced into a job position that was not bound to inspire much sympathy, but because nobody seemed to have a problem with their oppression. Nobody seems to care that the Uchiha were excluded from leadership, and in the anime nobody seems to care when Fugaku protests their segregation. The rest of the clan representatives remain silent as Fugaku's claims are dismissed by the Hokage.

You know, I don't want to bring any real life examples because I don't want anyone to be offended if an anime blog starts talking about real genocides. But it is sadly possible for people to see murder and cruelty before their eyes and do nothing. I don't know if that was exactly the case here, maybe they did not hear the screams that night, but the events leading to the massacre did not happen overnight. There was a structural oppression against the Uchiha, there was pseudoscientific racist bullshit spread by Konoha's leaders and the Uchiha were intentionally excluded. And nobody seemed to have any problem with that.

I also agree that it is weird there is no apparent relationship between the Uchiha and the Hyuga. You know, apart from the government-sanctioned bias against the Uchiha, since the Uchiha were excluded from normal ninja missions (apart from a few exceptions), I guess, there was less opportunity to create bonds or a sense of teamwork with other clans. And maybe this contributed to their ostracism. That is how I would explain their lack of relationship, but I agree that in reality it is probably due to lazy writing. Also, since each clan has its own set of traditions and, most importantly, its own secret techniques, I find unlikely that they would take someone from an outsider clan. To be honest, good riddance. I don't think Sasuke would have been any happy under the rule of that enslaver Hiashi.

But I feel you, yeah. The lost opportunities in this manga are extremely painful.

Thank you, anon. Come back with your rants anytime. I am sorry I took so long to answer, I really did not have time to right a long text and this ask deserved it. Take care!

[malewifetouya]

𝕾𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕽𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕳𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕭𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖈𝖐

Synopsis: you and Touya became friends when you were kids, until one day he had to leave. Years later, a beast in the forest makes its home near your village, and you’ll find out who the real monster is.

• Fantasy au, werewolf x human romance, childhood friends to lovers

Pairing: Dabi x reader

Characters: Touya Todoroki, Goto Imasuji, (mentioned) Enji Todoroki, Rei Todoroki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Natsuo Todoroki, Shoto Todoroki

Warnings: bullying, sexual harassment, misogyny (neither done by Touya), mass murder, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving), size difference, Goto is a creep here so if you like him, this might not be for you

Written for @candycandy00 for the League Of Villains Horror Anthology.

Title is a reference from a Hellsing Abridged quote by Team Four Star.

She was like the moon, and he, her wolf- always circling, his shadow cast in her moonlight, waiting for love to break free with the stars.

N.R. Hart

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You met Touya Todoroki when you were thirteen.

All your life, you had lived in a large town named Deika Village, located near a forest. You grew up with a fairly normal childhood, went to school with the other kids.

However, you had a secret: you and your family were witches. Your parents used their magic to help the village, making the crops prosper and kept the town safe from natural disasters or illnesses.

Nobody knew about your family secret because if people found out, you’d all be killed for witchcraft.

So, you put up the image of a non-magical child, and blended in with the other children, who got along with you.

Except for one kid.

His name was Goto Imasuji. He was tall for his age, had unruly blonde hair and onyx eyes. What stood out the most was how bulky he was, which earned him the nickname “Muscular”.

He called you mean names, pushed you around, and pulled on your hair. You don’t know what you did to piss him off at such a young age, but out of all the other kids he targeted, you seemed to be his favorite to harass.

Oddly, despite calling you “uggo”, he didn’t seem to like it when you interacted with other boys and would intimidate them into not talking to you anymore. You didn’t understand why, and just chalked his behavior up to him thinking girls were inferior to boys.

You tried telling the teachers, but they would dismiss you with the same excuses: “boys will be boys”, “just ignore him and he’ll leave you alone”, or, “if he’s mean to you, that just means he likes you” (there was no way in hell you believed that one, considering how many times he called you ugly).

Eventually, no one wanted to hang out with you anymore and would join Goto in bullying you, their fear turning into adoration. You were ostracized and excluded, the only kid with no friends.

That all changed when one day, you would meet a boy your age with snowy white hair and ice blue eyes.

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It was a chilly autumn afternoon when a family of six passed through your village, stopping to spend a few nights.

The family consisted of a husband and father named Enji Todoroki. He was an imposing man with spiky red hair, piercing blue eyes, and a permanent scowl etched on his face. His wife, Rei, was a beautiful woman with sleek white hair and warm gray eyes.

They had four kids; three sons and one daughter. The youngest was Shoto, who was no older than five, with dual colored hair that split right down the middle and heterochromic eyes. You rarely got to talk to him, but whenever you saw him, you’d always give him a polite wave.

The middle son was Natsuo. He looked just like Enji but had Rei’s palette. Out of his other three siblings, he had the most easy-going personality that was almost contagious.

Their only daughter, Fuyumi, was one year younger than you but you envied her looks. She had clearly inherited her mother’s beauty, with red streaks in her white hair, and was just as kind-hearted.

And finally, the eldest son, Touya. What stood out about him the most was how short he was for a boy his age. Despite how frail he looked, he was surprisingly strong and agile. Personality wise, he was reclusive and seemed to prefer being by himself.

The only way you met him was when you caught Goto picking on him for his height. You had stepped in and told your bully to back off, threatening to tell an adult if he didn’t stop.

The blonde menace glowered at you and called you an insult, but left like you told him to, not wanting to get in trouble, grumbling as he stomped away.

As soon as he was gone, you were about to ask Touya if he was okay, only to be met with a glare, like you had personally offended him.

“I didn’t need your help! I could’ve handled him!” He yelled indignantly.

Wow, rude.

“You’re welcome.” You replied sarcastically, turning up your nose at him as you stormed away.

You decided you’d never talk to him ever again, but fate had other plans, seeing as how the next day, Goto shoved you to the ground and shouted at you for interfering yesterday. Just as he was about to kick dirt in your face, he was suddenly pushed by a pair of hands and you heard a familiar voice.

“Leave her alone!”

You looked up to see none other than Touya, standing over Goto with his fists balled and teeth bared. You both made eye contact, and you could’ve sworn you saw his expression soften upon seeing you.

Before either of you could say a word, Goto stood back up and tackled Touya, bringing his fists down repeatedly. Touya was able to dodge his blows using his arms as a shield, but you knew that wouldn’t stop Goto.

With a surge of adrenaline, you leapt to your feet and kicked the bigger boy right between his legs.

He let out a pained wheeze, immediately clutching his groin, and with his hands occupied, you took the opportunity to punch him in the face as hard as you could. You then grabbed Touya’s hand and helped him up, running the both of you away to safety.

Once you two were far away enough, Touya pulled his hands out of your grasp so he could clutch his knees, worn out from running.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Although you knew the correct response would be to thank him, you felt like being petty.

“I didn’t need your help. I could’ve handled him.” You replied snarkily, repeating his own words back at him.

Whether or not he knew you were being impudent, Touya rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, you really looked like you had everything under control with the way you were on the ground.”

You crossed your arms and looked away from him. “Whatever, it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with him and it won’t be the last, so don’t think he’ll leave me alone just because you told him to.”

You expected him to scoff again, or make another snarky remark, but he went silent instead, which prompted you to look at him again. He actually stared at you with concern.

“He treats you like that a lot, doesn’t he?” His voice sounded like he had seen this type of behavior before

You nodded solemnly. “Has for a long time.”

Your response caused him to tense up, thinking about all the times he had seen his father treat his mother the same way Goto treated you.

“I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. “What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault.”

“I know that!” Touya huffed, “I just feel bad that you have to deal with him everyday and nobody seems to stand up for you”

You sighed. “It’s not that nobody won’t stand up for me, it’s that those who did were threatened or hit by him.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to be used to it.” Touya replied softly.

You felt your throat tighten and your eyes burn with tears.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

What happened next was a blur; you collapsed to the ground and broke down crying. Suddenly, a warm pair of arms enveloped you, and a hand was gently patting the top of your head.

From that day on, you and Touya became friends.

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By the time winter rolled around, Touya and his family left.

You were devastated. Despite his brief time in your village, Touya had become your closest friend. You two were practically attached to the hip, hanging out from morning until evening. You already had no friends to begin with thanks to Goto’s influence, and Touya didn’t either since he and his family were treated unkindly by your village for being outsiders.

The best part about being friends with Touya was Goto left you both alone, knowing that if he bothered one of you, the other would scare him away, knowing he couldn’t fight the two of you (he didn’t forget what happened to him last time and still resented you for giving him a bloody nose).

You revealed your magic to Touya, knowing he wouldn’t judge you, and in return, Touya opened up to you about what his family was like behind closed doors, how his father bribed Rei’s parents into letting him marry her, the way he physically abused Shoto, and neglected his other three kids, including him.

You were understandably horrified but now finally understood why Touya didn’t want you hanging out at his temporary house. He probably wanted to protect you from the monster that was Enji.

Despite your protests, Touya would beg you not to tell anyone else about his father. You didn’t understand why, but looking back, he was most likely afraid of what would happen to him, his siblings, and mother.

You even offered to let him stay with you for the night, but he’d always respectfully decline. Secretly, a selfish part of you wanted to share your room with him, because you had developed a crush on him. Though you both were comfortable enough to hug and hold hands, you wondered what it’d feel like to cuddle him, to listen to his heartbeat while he played with your hair until you both fell asleep.

The day Touya told you he and his family were leaving was the same day you were planning to confess your feelings for him. You never got the chance to because you cried in his arms while he apologized and sobbed with you. You both tried to enjoy your last day together, but it was hard to be happy when you knew you’d never get another moment like this with him ever again.

The next morning, you woke up early so you could say goodbye to Touya before he left. You wanted so badly to tell him how you really felt, but if he didn’t feel the same way, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship and part ways on a bad note, so you hugged him one last time, told him you’d miss him, and watched him leave your village with a broken heart.

You’d never forget the boy with crystals for eyes, who was the best part of your life.

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As time went on, you grew up, and now that Touya was gone, Goto had resumed teasing you, only his insults had changed. He made inappropriate remarks about your maturing body, touched you intimately just to make you uncomfortable, and possessively referred to you as “his girl”, like you were his girlfriend instead of his victim.

One day, he went too far and groped your rear end when you weren’t paying attention. That was your final straw.

You told a teacher, but when confronted, Goto replied that he had accidentally bumped into you. Unfortunately, the teacher believed him, and as soon as you were both alone, he cornered you with his burly arms and threatened you to not snitch on him ever again or he would “do something worse”.

You didn’t know what he meant, but the dark look in his eyes was enough to scare you into submission, so you nodded and promised to keep your mouth shut.

He smirked in satisfaction and called you a good girl. You wanted to throw up and slap him across his smug face.

As soon as he let you go and left, you ran outside until you reached the spot you and Touya first met and had an emotional breakdown.

You wished Touya was here, so he could comfort you while you told him about what Goto did and then kick his ass later. If Touya was still here, Goto would’ve never bothered you in the first place, and you might have been spared from being humiliated and threatened by him.

You hoped he would come back to you someday.

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Ten years passed and you were now a full grown woman in your twenties.

After your parents died of old age, you inherited their house. You had given away most of your childhood belongings to the younger kids and whatever belonged to your parents had been buried with them.

You adjusted to your new life and became a waitress at a tea shop. Although your boss was a strict, middle-aged woman who grated your nerves, she paid you well and the tea shop was a peaceful place to work in, so you stuck around.

You were happy. You liked your job, you liked your pay, and you liked the customers.

Except one.

Even years later as adults, Goto still continued to torment you. However, he would continually ask to bed you, and you always turned him down. Your rejection didn’t dissuade him, and he refused to take your no for an answer. It was like he was hoping that you’d eventually change your mind if he wore you down enough.

To make matters worse, a year after your parents died, some unknown beast made its home in the forest near your village.

It made itself known when it mauled anyone who trespassed onto the area it marked as its territory. At first, everyone thought it was a bear, until a survivor said it wasn’t. Although they didn’t get a clear look at the predator, they claimed it was larger than a bear, and ate its victims. The bears in your forest were herbivores.

To appease the creature, the village leaders offered criminals as sacrifices, and in return, innocents were spared. Nobody knew about the sacrifices, not even you. This was done purposely so the crime rate wouldn’t go down, lest your village lose people to offer as food.

What was most odd about the monster was that it was only active during full moons.

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“For the last time, Imasuji: I’m not interested.”

“Aw, why not, sweetheart?” Goto asked with a fake pout. The audacity of this man.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you were mean to me when we were kids?” You hoped your sarcasm was obvious.

Goto only threw back his head and laughed in response. “Y/n, that was the old me! I’ve changed.”

At least, that’s what he believed. You had seen the way he treated other people, especially the men who were nice to you, and nothing about him changed. He was still the egotistical brat you knew since childhood. The only reason nobody ever called him out for his behavior was because they were either too scared or regarded him as some sort of deity simply because he was the best hunter in the village. He also had a few women who were infatuated with him, and you had to endure the scathing looks they gave you out of jealousy.

You even had other people try to convince you to give Goto a chance, claiming he’d make an excellent husband who’d be able to provide for you (and any future children).

If only they knew what a walking red flag he was.

“Imasuji, either order a cup of tea or leave if you’re just going to waste my time.” You seethed. As much as you wanted to smash a teapot over Goto’s head, none of the fine china belonged to you and therefore, weren't yours to damage.

Goto regarded you with cold eyes and a lecherous smirk, “Your parents never taught you your role as a woman. You need a man to put you in your place.”

Rather than humor Goto by wasting your time arguing with him, you excused yourself behind the shoji. You could really use a hot cup of tea.

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When you were finally allowed home, you walked to your backyard where your vegetation was growing. One of the stalks was drying up, so you looked around, and when you were certain there was no one else around, you whispered a spell incantation and the plant grew rapidly.

Not only did you grow fruits and vegetables, you also grew flowers. The most abundant were your nemophilas. They were a beautiful shade of blue, almost similar to the eyes of-

You shook your head, not wanting to get emotional over your childhood friend. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you the way you thought about him.

If only you weren’t so distracted, you would’ve noticed the pair of obsidian eyes watching you from the shadows.

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The smell of brewing tea seemed to overwhelm you as you entered the shop the next morning. You chatted idly with the customers, which helped distract your mind from yesterday’s nostalgic memories, and you were confident your day would go smoothly.

Until a certain blonde walked in and soured your mood.

As usual, he flirted with you, despite how busy you were, but what caught you off guard was when he said:

“Marry me, y/n.”

You had nearly dropped the tray you were carrying. It wasn’t even a question; it was more of demand, as if your feelings didn’t matter to him.

“Why do you want me to marry you? Why should I marry you?” You asked, appalled.

Goto smirked, “Because you’d make a fine wife for me. You wouldn’t even have to work here anymore,” he gestured to the shop surrounding him. “All you’d have to do is stay home, cook, and clean.”

He then leaned forward, leering. “And give me children.”

“W-what?!” You spluttered.

“I prefer sons, but if we have daughters, I’ll teach them to be future wives for their husbands-“

“No.”

Goto went silent, and you could’ve sworn you saw his face twitch before he quickly smiled again, only it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You didn’t even let me finish-“

“You don’t need to, Imasuji.” You snapped. “I don’t want to marry you and I never will, so just drop it already.”

Goto’s grin became more menacing, and he leaned down to make you feel smaller. You hadn’t felt this scared of him since the time he threatened you to stay silent.

“I’d reconsider your answer if I were you, y/n.”

Despite the warning bells going off in your head, you were too prideful to let yourself be intimidated by him.

“Or what?” You challenged.

There was a shattering sound, and you realized he had gripped his cup so hard that the glass broke, tea and blood leaking from his fingers.

“Or you’ll regret it.”

Don’t push it don’t push it don’t push it don’t push it don’t push it don’t push it don’t push it-

“I’d regret marrying you rather than staying single for the rest of my life.”

You heard a gasp, and, to your embarrassment, saw that the whole shop had been watching you and Goto. Everyone looked at you like you were the crazy one instead of the creep invading your personal space.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Goto snarled, and then turned around to leave the shop.

Before anyone could berate you for turning him down, you bolted to the shoji and felt yourself having a panic attack after what happened.

You couldn’t breathe, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, and you had begun to cry. You grabbed one of the zabutons and clutched it for comfort, the soft fabric bringing you back from your hysteria. Finally, you began to calm down, and did breathing exercises, your heartbeat slowing down.

Suddenly, the shoji opened quickly, revealing your agitated boss and making you gasp. She looked down at you with annoyance.

“What are you doing back here? We have customers!” She yelled shrilly, seemingly uncaring of the tear tracks on your face.

You stood up and hastily wiped your uniform, “Sorry, I had a breakdown and needed to be alone.”

Your boss stared at you critically before sighing in irritation. “Fine, you can go home early. Can’t have you crying in the tea.”

You chose to ignore her passive aggressive remark and thanked her for letting you leave. You quickly made your way home, ignoring the curious stares from the other villagers. Luckily, Goto wasn’t one of them. You didn’t think you could handle another panic attack, especially outside for everyone to see.

Once inside your house, you locked your door and closed the curtains to the windows. Although you hadn’t seen Goto since this afternoon at the tea shop, you still felt paranoid that he’d be outside your home.

You retreated to your bedroom and changed into your nightgown, figuring a nap would help calm your nerves. Under the safety of your blankets, you fell asleep immediately, hoping you’d feel better when you woke up.

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You were awakened to the sound of fierce knocking at your front door.

Jolting up, you stood from your bed and walked to your window, peaking through the curtains. Outside, were some of the villagers and the leaders, holding torches and rope.

You felt uneasy, especially since it was already nightfall. Had you really slept that long? And why were there so many people at your front door this late?

The knocking became more aggressive, and you knew if you didn’t answer, then your door would be kicked down. Grabbing a red silk robe, you covered yourself since you were still wearing your thin nightgown. Normally, you would’ve changed into more appropriate clothes, but you had a feeling they wouldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You yelled impatiently, hoping the villagers heard your agitation. You unlatched the locks and opened your door ajar, keeping as much space possible between you and your unwanted visitors.

“May I help you?”

“L/n, step outside, please.” One of the leaders said, leaving no room for argument.

“Why?” You asked suspiciously.

“Step. Out. Side. Please.”

Not wanting to cause trouble, you did as told and walked out your door. You stared up at your leader, trying not to look as nervous as you felt.

“L/n, we’ve received word that you might be a witch.”

You did a double take. “I’m sorry, what?”

“We heard from Imasuji that he caught you using magic outside your house.”

The fiend himself appeared from the side of your house, arms crossed and smirking. You had a feeling why he would accuse you of witchcraft.

Unknown to you, he had followed you a few nights ago and saw you whisper the spell incantation to make your plants grow. Your refusal to marry him was the final push for him to decide that if he couldn’t have you, then no one could.

“That's a lie, I’m not a witch.” You responded. Your leader didn’t look convinced, and forced himself, along with and Goto, inside your house for inspection, despite your protests.

At first, they didn’t find anything that looked suspicious, like potions or animal familiars, so you assumed you were safe, until Goto came out of your bedroom.

“I found a spell book!”

You felt your blood turn to ice. It was your family’s spell book that had been passed down for generations. At this point, you knew there was no point in lying because you had been caught.

“Okay, fine, it’s a spell book and yes, I used magic to make my backyard grow faster.” You admitted, “That doesn’t mean I’m an evil witch! I’ve only used my magic for good.”

The crowd began cornering you and you felt multiple hands grabbing you, tying your wrists behind your back. That would explain the rope.

As you were escorted out of the village, everyone cursed and spat at you, saying you deserved to die and that you were going to hell.

You had never felt so betrayed.

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There was a full moon in the sky, giving you some light as you were led out to the forest.

It was bad enough you had a shitty day, now you were having a shitty night.

After walking for a few more minutes, you arrived at a large tree, far away from your village. You wondered if you were going to be hanged because of the rope, but instead, the leaders began tying you to the trunk, binding your arms behind you.

When you asked if you were just going to be left outside all night, you were then told of all the previous criminals before you who had been offered as sacrifices to the beast, and you were horrified.

You vowed that the leaders wouldn’t get away with their sins, but they laughed you off and, as one last act of defiance, you spat in one of their faces.

Now, you had been left alone to die at the claws of some unknown monster.

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The monster himself raised his nose to the sky, smelling fresh blood in the distance. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he took off on all fours.

Ever since he marked the forest as his territory, he couldn’t control his primal instincts and had accidentally killed a few people in his starving frenzy.

Then, one night, he saw a man tied to a tree. The animal in him dominated his humanity and all that was left of the poor soul was a mangled, bloodied corpse.

From then on, during every full moon, he would find someone left out for him to eat and he would be satisfied for the rest of the night. Humans were more filling than animals.

The smell of blood became stronger as he neared his prey, and drool began flying off his muzzle as he ran faster. He growled with excitement.

He couldn’t wait to devour his next victim.

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You pulled at your binds, trying to free yourself, but it was no use. The more you strained, the more the rope dug into your skin, leaving red, painful welts.

You knew there was no point in calling for help. There was no one else around, and all you’d do was attract an animal, or the beast itself.

You hoped it wouldn’t find you, or would ignore you instead of eating you alive. You’d rather stay tied to the tree and die from either starvation, dehydration, or exposure than be mauled to death.

Despite your resolve to stay strong, you felt your eyes begin to water at the shittiness of the situation you were trapped in. Your family secret discovered all because you refused to marry your childhood bully, finding out that the village leaders were murderous sociopaths, and neither of them would be punished, while you were paying the consequences for their actions.

Your head snapped up when you heard the sound of twigs snapping and large footsteps approaching you. The birds in the trees across from you flew away, panicked.

Oh god. It was coming for you.

You finally began to openly sob. Why bother keeping quiet when it knew where you were? You prayed that your death would be quick.

Then, from the trees emerged the creature itself. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your mouth, eyes widening in horror.

It looked like a wolf, but it was bigger than a bear and stood on its hind legs. Its fur was white with gnarled, purple scars underneath its eyes, covering its lower face and neck, all the way down past its collarbone. Its chest, arms, and legs were a patchwork of fur and scars. But the most striking feature was its glowing blue eyes.

Its muzzle formed into a snarl, drool dripping from its sharp teeth. You could see the black, protruding claws from its fingers. You didn’t know which looked worse: the fangs or talons.

It lowered itself on all fours again and began to slowly approach you, as if taunting you. By now, you were loudly weeping, thinking about all the friends you’d never see again. You wanted to live a long life and die peacefully in your sleep from old age, not like this.

The wolf-like beast sniffed you, its nose pressing against your body. You cringed and looked away, feeling like your personal space was being violated. Why was it dragging this out? To antagonize you?

Suddenly, it jolted its head back, as if electrocuted. It stood on its hind legs once more to get a better look at you. Then, its eyes widened in realization.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes flew open in shock and you turned your head to look at the bipedal wolf, jaw dropping. It just spoke to you, and it knew your name. Did it know you? And did you know it?

“How do you know me?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“Y/n, it’s me, Touya.” It replied in a masculine voice.

You felt like all the air left your body at the mention of the familiar name. There was no way this giant apex predator was your beloved childhood friend.

“Stop tormenting me,” you demanded, though your tone sounded more like a plea. “You’re not Touya. Don’t lie to me!”

Its face looked genuinely hurt but it gently grabbed your chin with its thumb and index finger so you were face to face. Despite its large claws, it was careful not to scratch you.

“Look at me, y/n. Look at me and you’ll see.”

Despite your better judgment, you did as told, studying its face. Even with the pointed ears and muzzle, something about it did look familiar.

Then, you stared into its eyes, and memories of a blue-eyed boy whom you fell in love with invaded your mind with flashbacks.

“…Touya?”

The wolf smiled and nodded his head, “Yes.”

“But how?” You asked, “You were human when we met but now you’re…”

Unable to figure out what exactly he was, your voice trailed. Touya, however, didn’t seem offended, and let go of your chin. “Let me get you out of these ropes before I explain everything.”

He circled around the tree and slashed your binds with his claws, never once grazing your skin. With your arms free, you began to rub your sore wrists as Touya entered your field of vision again.

“First off, I’m a lycanthrope, also known as a werewolf.” He explained, “I only take this form during full moons. My entire family are werewolves, too. Lycans are born, not made.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when we were kids?” You asked, feeling somewhat hurt that he kept such a big secret from you.

Touya sighed, “We’re not supposed to tell humans about our kind, or they’d probably try to kill us all.”

There was a few seconds of silence before you threw yourself at Touya, wrapping your arms around his middle while crying into his fur.

“I missed you so much, Touya.”

Touya stiffened, taken aback by the sudden hug, but then relaxed and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up so your feet were off the ground. He inhaled your scent, familiar with the pheromones since he first met you.

“I missed you too, y/n. I thought about you everyday after I left.”

You heard a swishing sound behind Touya, and peeked over to see his large white tail wagging. It was cute, knowing he was this happy to see you again.

Touya placed you back on your feet but neither of you pulled away from the embrace. You had to look up at him due to the height difference. It was then you remembered the scars littering his body.

“These scars… how did you get them?” You asked before realizing you may have overstepped a boundary. Luckily, Touya didn’t look angry, only sad.

“When I came of age, I left my family and traveled to find a new home. I ended up in a forest called Sekoto Peak. Another village saw my werewolf form, and lit the forest on fire in an attempt to kill me. I survived, but was left with these burn scars.”

He shuddered as he recalled the heat, how the fire was so hot that it turned blue. Had he not found a creek and jumped in the water, he would’ve been cremated.

You felt tears roll down your face, which Touya wiped away with his thumbs. “Oh, Touya…”

“It’s okay, y/n,” he said gently with a soft smile, “they don’t hurt me anymore. Now, I have a question for you: why were you tied to a tree?”

You were the last person Touya thought would commit a crime. You were feisty, that he knew, but he couldn’t see you doing anything illegal or immoral.

Your face twisted into a scowl as you looked away, “Remember Goto Imasuji? He accused me of witchcraft because I refused to marry him.”

There was silence as Touya processed what you said before his shock was replaced with fury. His fur bristled and he bared his fangs, though you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you.

“He fucking WHAT?!”

You hadn’t seen him this pissed since the time he caught Goto bullying you. Funny how both times were because of him.

“He caught me using magic on my crops, which was stupid on my part, but I thought I was alone.” You confessed, “Goto saw me, told the village leaders, and when they invaded my home, they found my family’s spell book.”

Touya snarled with rage. How dare the leaders leave you to die, all because a man felt entitled to have you? He was going to make them pay, especially Goto.

“I’m going to kill them all.”

You opened your mouth to protest, until you recalled not only how terribly Goto treated you, but the leaders and the entire village.

Your anger began to rise as you remembered how they all betrayed you, and now you hated everyone. If they saw you as an evil witch, then you would become what they feared.

“No, we’re going to kill them all.”

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Back at your village, the residents set your house on fire to “cleanse” their town from your magic. The leaders had gathered around to celebrate your demise. Goto had stolen a few of your clothes for himself when nobody looked.

There was a scream from someone, and everybody ran to the source to see a large, white bipedal wolf sprinting full speed, with you on its back, before coming to a stop.

“She’s alive?” Goto asked in disbelief. You glared down at the blonde man. Your red cloak billowed behind you in the wind, the color matching your hatred.

“Yes, I’m alive, but you won’t be.” You promised darkly, “Before I enact my revenge, I want everyone to know that your leaders have been offering our people as sacrifices to the beast.”

There was a gasp in the crowd, and you continued, “And the only reason I was accused of witchcraft was not because Goto Imasuji cares about the village, but because I refused to marry him.”

Goto snarled and pointed a finger at you. “She lies! Do not believe this monster!”

You narrowed your eyes coldly at the blonde. “No, Imasuji, the real monster is you.”

“Do you have proof of your accusations against us, witch?” One of the leaders asked accusingly, and this time, Touya spoke up.

“Me, for I am the beast they have been offering sacrifices to.”

Everyone gasped in horror, and Goto raised his spear. “The creature stands before us with the witch! Don’t just stand there, kill them!”

Before he could make the first move, you extended your hand and blue flames shot out, engulfing Imasuji. He screamed in pain as the fire consumed him, until he was reduced to a charred corpse.

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-flashback-

“Touya, I know this is asking a lot from you but I need you to remember the fire you were in.”

The werewolf shifted uncomfortably and you sighed. “I know you don’t want to, but in order for me to use my magic, I need to absorb the memories of the fire. Do you trust me?”

Touya went silent, and you feared he was going to say he didn’t, until he finally spoke.

“Yes, I trust you.”

You smiled reassuringly and placed your hands on either side of his face. He closed his eyes and you felt like you were experiencing what he went through:

The heat from the flames, the gorgeous yet deadly blue color, the smell of smoke, the excruciating feeling of your skin burning-

You pulled away with a gasp as you were brought back to the present. Touya looked distressed, his eyes still tightly closed, so you reached up to gently rub his ears. He immediately relaxed and his chest rumbled, like he was purring.

Releasing his ears, you concentrated all your magic and a small blue flame ignited in your palm.

You extinguished it and Touya knelt down so you could climb on his back. You held on to the fur on his nape as he ran through the woods to your village.

They had no idea what they were in for.

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Your village erupted into screams as everyone, including your leaders ran, terrified that they would suffer the same fate. You jumped from Touya’s back and set a blazing ring of fire surrounding your town so no one could escape.

“You know what to do, Touya.”

With a growl, the werewolf sprinted after anyone who was too slow, and whoever wasn’t mauled by him was burned by you.

Eventually, the chaos went silent, and what was left of your village was ash and dead bodies. Touya stood beside you, his white fur covered in blood

A few children came out of their houses, yawning and rubbing their eyes, to see what all the commotion was. When they saw the corpses, they began to cry and wail in grief.

You felt you heart break with guilt, and Touya looked remorseful, too. As inhuman as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to harm a child.

Quietly, you whispered a fatigue spell, and watched with relief as all the kids lay down to sleep for the final time. At least they would pass peacefully and not have to live the rest of their lives as orphans.

With no one left alive, you summoned a weather incantation and thunder rumbled in the sky as a steady downpour extinguished the fire.

Climbing on Touya’s back again, you both headed back to the forest.

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Touya came to a stop at the tree where you were tied and you jumped off, hugging him again, “Thank you for helping me, Touya.”

“Of course,” he replied, hugging you back, “You deserved justice.”

You knew eventually you and Touya would have to depart again, so you did what you should’ve done years ago.

“Touya, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You felt him tense up before he asked, “Is it good or bad?”

You laughed quietly, “Depends on how you react.”

“Alright, what is it?”

You looked up at him, still keeping your arms wrapped around his waist. “When we were kids, I developed feelings for you. I wanted to tell you, but then you and your family moved away, so I never got the chance to.”

Touya didn’t say anything, and you expected him to pull away from the hug and tell you he didn’t feel the same way. Instead, he looked down at you with wide eyes.

“You… you liked me?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No, Touya, I loved you.”

There was a familiar swishing sound, and you looked behind Touya to see his tail wagging again. “I’m glad you told me because I felt the same way about you, too, y/n.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest from happiness. “You loved me, too?”

Touya smiled and reached a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Knew I did the moment I saw you kick Imasuji in the crotch.”

You let out a watery laugh as your eyes brimmed with happy tears. Standing on your toes, you pressed your lips against his muzzle, catching him by surprise. In return, he leaned down and affectionately licked your cheek, making you giggle.

He pulled back to look at you tenderly, and you felt you core begin to heat up, making you rub your thighs together. “Touya, make love to me.”

Touya raised his eyebrows, “Right here? Right now?”

You nodded, unable to wait any longer. “Yes, I want you, Touya, in every way possible. Please, touch me.”

Upon hearing your plea, something primal awakened in Touya. Not the urge to hunt, but the urge to claim. He gently tilted your head back and lowered himself to lick your neck. You ran your fingers through the fur on his nape in encouragement, and he lightly nipped at your throat with his teeth. He slowly removed your robe and nightgown, letting the garments fall to the ground around your ankles.

When he finally pulled away, your eyes were hazed with want, and you looked even more beautiful to him. He suddenly became self conscious about his appearance, worried that the scars would turn you off, so he spun you around until you were facing the tree.

You looked back over your shoulder to see him get down on his knees, hooking his claws in the waistband of your panties to pull them down. You gasped when his cold, wet nose nudged against your clit. Bracing your arms against the tree, you arched your back.

You heard Touya growl in satisfaction and he used his thumbs to spread your folds apart, revealing your pretty pussy to him. Unable to wait any longer, his tongue licked up and down your slit.

You moaned and rested your forehead against the trunk, grinding your hips against Touya’s face from behind. He moved his hands up from the back of your thighs to cup your buttocks, massaging the supple flesh in his palms. He hummed at the taste of your fluids, the vibrations stimulating your inner walls.

Touya felt his cock harden and stick up, leaking precum. Slowly, he pulled away from your folds, a trail of his saliva and your cum connecting to his tongue. You were about to whine about the loss of contact, until you felt him lightly bite your ass cheek, making you yelp. Touya chuckled with your glute still between his teeth, before he let go and licked the bite mark he left. He trailed his tongue up your back as he began to stand up.

He stood to his full height, hands gripping your waist as he pressed his tip into your opening. You whined and he stilled, his mushroom head halfway in.

“Tell me you want it,” he growled. “Tell me what you want, y/n.”

You looked up at him from over your shoulder and grinded your ass against his length. “Please, Touya, I want you inside of me. Make me yours.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slowly pushed himself in you, grunting in pleasure at how tight you felt around him. Your mouth dropped open in a loud moan, feeling so stuffed and full. His girth filled your walls, and the long length touched a certain spot inside that made you see stars.

Touya paused, waiting for you to get adjusted to his size before he began to slowly thrust himself in and out. Your feet were dangling off the ground as his large hands encircled your hips. You stretched your arms above your head, nails scratching the bark.

Despite his large size, Touya was careful not to hurt you. Even though his animalistic side wanted to dominate you, he knew you were still human. Your submission was enough to satisfy his inner wolf.

A particular hard thrust caused you to throw your head back and moan, exposing the side of your neck. Unable to control his primal urges, Touya’s fangs elongated and he bit down on the soft flesh. Your eyes rolled upwards at the mix of pleasure and pain.

Touya pulled away, licking the bite mark he left on your neck, then suddenly maneuvered you so you were leaning back against him, his arms under your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind as he fucked you in a standing full-nelson.

Sliding his arms up further until the backs of your thighs were resting off his inner elbows, Touya’s hands crept up to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers. The sensitivity made you mewl, grasping the fur on his neck. You felt like something inside you was going to burst, and you knew you were close.

“T-Touya, I’m-“

You didn’t need to finish your sentence, because Touya brought his long tail around and rubbed your clit with the tip, making you scream in ecstasy as you and Touya both reached your climax together.

Once you both came down from your high, Touya gently lowered you so your feet were touching the ground again but kept his arms wrapped around you, knowing you were too jelly-legged to stand. He then sat down on the grass, pulling you with him so you could sit in his lap.

You snuggled your face into his furry chest, sighing contentedly. Although the night air was chilly, his pelt kept you warm. Something was still gnawing at your mind, so you looked up at your beloved.

“Touya, why didn’t you let me look at you?”

You saw Touya’s jaw tighten, and you worried you may have ruined the mood, but his hand reached up to stroke your hair, tucking a few damp strands behind your ear.

“I thought my scars would make you change your mind about me.”

There was a vulnerability to his voice that ached your heart, and you sat up to straddle him so you both were face to face.

“Touya, your scars don’t disgust me at all. I love all of you, and I hope you can learn to love yourself the way I do.”

Tears began to well up in Touya’s eyes. For years, he wanted his family, especially his father, to look at him, only to be denied that wish. Yet, here you were, looking at all of him with the love and adoration he longed for since he was a child.

You kissed his forehead and gently pushed him down so you were on top of him while he lay beneath you, looking even more ethereal as he stared up at you. You began to grind your pussy against his hard-on.

“Let me make you feel beautiful, Touya.”

Slowly, you sheathed yourself onto his cock. Touya threw back his head and gritted his teeth, hands coming up to grasp your thighs. Once he was fully inside of you again, you began to slowly bounce on his length.

You heard Touya mutter curse words, knowing he felt just as good as you did. He thrusted upwards into you, matching your pace. When he opened his eyes, he saw your breasts bouncing and pulled you down closer so he could lick one of your nipples, making you whimper. His hands traveled down to cup your buttocks in his palms, claws ever so slightly digging into the plush skin. You yelped in surprise when he spanked your ass before massaging the mounds afterwards.

You felt your second orgasm approaching and rubbed your clit against Touya’s pelvis for friction. He pulled you down into a tight embrace, your face buried into his chest as he gave one final thrust, making you both cum at the same time.

Exhausted, you collapsed on top of him, his cock still inside you. You rested your head in the crook of his neck as his hands ran up and down your sides in a soothing manner. You would’ve fallen asleep in his arms until he asked you:

“Would you like to live with me?”

You perked your head from his chest, staring at him unbelievingly with wide eyes. “Live with you?”

Touya removed one of his hands from your waist so he could scratch the back of his neck, feeling shy. “I don’t have much of a place to live but I could take care of you. I know how to hunt and-“

He was cut off when you kissed his nose, “Of course I want to live with you, I’d love that more than anything.”

You heard Touya’s tail thump against the ground as he wagged it, and he licked your cheek, making you giggle at the sudden affection. He helped you stand and put on your nightgown and robe for you, before getting down on all fours, allowing you to climb on his back.

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Touya ran past the forest until he reached a hot spring waterfall and leapt to the other side, soaking you both wet. You climbed off his back and saw a rocky wall. Just as you were about to ask, Touya moved a large rock covering a hole that led to a cave on the inside.

You stepped in while Touya followed and closed the gap. At first, all you saw was darkness, but then the ceiling and walls began to glow with blue lights. Your jaw dropped in amazement and Touya chuckled.

“Those are glow worms. They’re bioluminescent, which is how they’re able to make their own light.”

He then grabbed your hand and led you down the rest of the cave while you admired the glowing larvae that resembled stars.

You suddenly recalled a fond memory of the time Touya told you about his fascination with the stars, and you’d both lay out at night to stare at the sky while he pointed at every constellation.

You were snapped out of your reminiscing when Touya softly called your name, and you saw his den. One side had a pile of fur and pelts, which you guessed he slept in, and on the other side was another hot spring surrounded by a pool of water. At the end was a keyhole that filtered water from the other side. Thankfully, it was small enough that you knew neither man nor animal would be able to swim through, giving you and Touya privacy.

Although caves were usually cold, the steam from the hot springs kept the air warm, so you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about winter.

You made your way over to his fur pile and sat down, feeling the soft pelts between your fingers. Touya sat down with you, looking shy.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think it’s beautiful,” you replied dreamily, “and I can’t believe I’m going to live here with you.”

Touya sighed in relief and pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face into your neck. You hugged him back and giggled when he licked your cheek again.

“I’m happy you’re here with me. I was lonely for so long.” Touya admitted. You kissed his nose and rested your forehead against his.

“You’ll never be lonely again, Touya. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Touya’s tail wagged and he pulled away from your neck, looking at you with a serious expression. “Y/n, will you be my mate?”

You blinked in surprise, and Touya worried he may have rushed things, until you straddled his lap, smiling at him.

“Yes, Touya, I will be your mate.”

You watched as Touya’s pupils dilated and he leaned down again to lick your neck. You tilted your head back in submission, and he began to remove your garments again. He gently pushed you down onto the furs once you were naked and hovered above you.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

Placing your legs over his shoulders, Touya slowly entered inside you again, and you arched your back off the pelts, moaning as he filled you. He grabbed your wrists, holding your arms above your head as he began to thrust in and out.

This was different from the first time he took you. This felt more intimate now that he was allowing you to look at him.

Touya lowered his head to lick your nipples, making you whimper in pleasure. His pace sped up, the sound of his cock hitting your wet pussy drowned out by his grunts and your moans that echoed all around the cave.

Sensing that you were close, Touya brought his free hand down to rub your clit with his paw pad, your vision going white as you came all over his fingers and cock. Touya’s chest rumbled as he spilled his seed inside you and collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.

Slowly, he pulled out and picked you up in his arms, carrying you to the hot spring pool to clean yourselves. The water was warm, and you leaned against Touya as he washed you down with a sponge.

When you both were cleansed, he carried you back to the fur pile and laid down, resting you on top of his chest. Just as you were about to fall asleep, Touya spoke again.

“The sun is coming up, I’m shifting back into my human form.”

You lifted your head and watched as the fur on his body receded, though the scars remained. His ears shrunk to normal size, his muzzle shrinking inwards to form a normal nose and mouth, and lying before you was a human man with familiar white hair and blue eyes.

“Aw, I’m gonna miss your tail wagging.” You teased.

Touya softly laughed and brushed a wet strand of hair behind your ear. “This won’t be the last time you see it.”

You smiled and finally got to kiss his lips before laying your head on his chest. “I’ll have the rest of my life to see you in both forms.”

Touya kissed the top of your head. “Forever.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Tagging: @missrosegold @dabisqueen @dabislittlemouse @mossy-opal @dabislilbaby

©malewifetouya- please do not steal, plagiarize, repost, copy, translate, or share my works on any other platforms. I do not give you permission.

[cruyuu]

I agree being a Sukuna fan is pretty hard since a lot of G fans are too toxic. I also feel bad for Gege since G fandom always downplay other characters and arcs Gege made for other characters

Reminds me of Homer with Poochie who wanted EVERYTHING to be about Poochie lol

Being a fan of any character in this fandom that isn't a popular one is an experience, anon, I'll tell you that. Finding people who are more open-minded towards discussing those less-talked about characters or that share your opinions is even harder, lol.

Still, this is the first fandom I've been in where I have a hard time connecting with it at all because man, this fandom really struggles with objectivity and being at peace with where the story currently is. I had to walk away from the bird app because of the way I was tired (and frustrated) about people continually making theories about a dead character's comeback with 0 evidence and being dismissive of the current plot. Like outside of Yuuji and Sukuna, Higuruma is also one of my favorite characters, and even though I don't talk about him much, I'm at peace when it comes to his death. I don't consider it a waste nor do I consider that he could've been more developed. I accept canon and the role he played in the story, because I realize he is just a side character and this is not a story about him. If I want to see a story about him, I could just write one.

I genuinely have no problem with people loving characters nor being insane over their faves (I do that too) but it becomes tiring when you're met with 487283737 posts of the same thing over and over and over again while looking for analyses related to the current going-ons in the plot. Like Gojo had been dead for some time to the narrative yet the fandom still refuses to let him rest even though he found peace in death and I find that ironic because they won't accept his actual characterization, paint the author as a hater (even tho he created him so that argument makes no sense) and believe they know him best, even better than the author. Do they? Are they truly his fans if they can't accept what canon is telling them or fans of a version of him which never existed in the first place? Like real fans accept the fact that he's dead and are not arguing everything in the story is about him. I know that because one of my friends loves him a lot (he's his #1) yet he doesn't belittle anyone, nor does he hate Sukuna and is still keeping up with the story. Normal fans do still exist, even though they are a rarity in this fandom.

I also feel bad for Gege because people are still hating on him simply because he doesn't do what is common in shonen works. If those people are dissatisfied with his writing, then why not just read a work which will satisfy their cravings or write a story they wish to read? Why not read Naruto, a classic shonen where nobody ever dies, everybody gets to shine and has about half a story dedicated to the side-characters and gives them development? It's everything they've been looking for in jjk, and yet they're still reading jjk, expecting it to deliver these tropes which exist in other shonen and then get disappointed when it doesn't. Just because it is marketed at such, it doesn't mean it'll be a copy or a ripoff, or for that matter, that it will follow certain rules or tropes applied to shonen. Every story has its own rules and deserves to be treated as such.

As somebody who had started reading jjk with 0 expectations, I am actually quite enjoying the wild ride that is jjk.

[jfashion-confessions]

I don't understand the back and forth between Jirai. As a mentally ill adult with BPD as well as other illnesses. I don't understand trying to claim a slur I wouldn't be called as a western who lives IN the west. No one in the west randomly uses that SLUR because its japanese. English speakers still don't jot their english with random Japanese. English speaker would call me: Crazy, lunatic, unhinged, attention seeking, someone they gotta tiptoe around / walk on eggshells around, mental, a "amber heard", a danger like jodi arias. the list goes on and on... I've heard hurtful and dismissive comments about my mental health or even just heard this about others who are mentally ill, because not everyone knows my status. But my point is the "feed back" and dismissive and belittling comments are always in english. I just find when I see younger folks arguing its a slur they like or they wanna reclaim it doesn't sit right with me. We don't get called those things. We get called ENGLISH words. I've never heard it in my life until the subculture became more popular in the west in 2020/2021. And since probably 2023 I've seen it become more popular. But even still I don't *hear* the word enter normal peoples vocab. I also don't really like calling it a lifestyle, because mental health isn't a lifestyle. It's a condition. I don't want to glamorize mental health, it should be seen just like any other health condition. Just like allergies, or physical illness something else. The difference between education and awareness and glamorizing is awareness gives you better understanding of the disorder. Glamourising makes people wish they were disordered or don't want to seek treatment because thats their "thing". We all struggle and have bad days, some stuff will set us off, sometimes stuff is difficult. But thats not "jirai" to struggle. I like the term "dark girly" as someone who's got bpd and psychosis because it also removes my mental health from the fashion. Dark girly addresses the aesthetic, motifits and beautiful (dark and rich) colors I see. Jirai can't be divorced from its original context, or the sex trafficking or other aspects of its shady history and inevitable trauma it's created. I also don't like negative stereotypes being connected with mental health. I can recognise for japanese young women / women this slur has preduices and that culture is not as open with mental health. It's more judgemental, views it as a private affirm. (and yes, as a western I can see the relatable because I had parents who were in this same conservative mindset of we don't share bad things. Don't talk about your suffering, don't talk to a therapist. Stop! But, I'm an adult now & as a western I have more access to getting help, but also being able to openly speak about my issues and find spaces were I can do so without stigma or judgement. I'm not aware if japan has this so much. Culturally speaking I'm an outsider, so my awareness is ignorant.) For reclaiming the slur too, I find it really strange because the west has a lot of different cultures in it, and i'm sure all of them have their own slurs for mentally unwell people and society beliefs with mental health and how its shameful & yet I don't see westerns grabbing those slurs and being like 'you know what! I'm this too, I'm reclaiming all of this." I just feel like Jirai is being claimed by misguided youngsters. But I really wish the back and forth could stop and I realize I'm fueling the debate to. So I'm sorry.

.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

i read your post you tagged “if you take nothing else from this blog let it be this”

and i’m glad i did because it paints a really great picture of your ideology

“i have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.

nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth. i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

i’m a cis woman who was also bullied in middle school for being gay so unfortunately you cannot write this off as another “angry man” or whatever, but i expect you’ll find some other way to dismiss this criticism, or maybe you’ll pretend you didn’t read it despite me reading your much longer vitriolic post.

i’m not saying you have to love and welcome trans women into Our Spaces—although i wish you did feel that way—but specifically i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis. are genitals really that defining of a human being? i personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.

No, anon, I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t read this ask. I do acknowledge and appreciate two things:

You took the time to read my post. If I can be honest, I thought it’d be a bigger hit, and the fact it wasn’t is at least partially contributed to its length, I’m sure.

Even though you clearly disagree with me, this ask is respectful. I really do appreciate that.

With that out of the way, I would like to give you a response.

““I have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.”

I would like to point out that the post I made was specifically talking about “lesbian” trans women. In the beginning, I speak a bit generally about trans women as a whole, but my post was mainly about straight males who claim to be lesbians. I'm willing to accept that I have plenty in common with homosexual trans women (trans women into males) because we are both gay. Not only that, but I can relate to being so gnc that I’d rather just be the opposite sex. However, this part of your ask does not make nearly as much sense if we are talking about heterosexual trans women. Yes. Straight males very much so are considered normal. I think where people like you and people like me get into the most arguments is that we can't decide who is and who is not a trans woman. You seem to view them as tortured minorities who struggled since childhood. And some of them are—mostly the homosexual ones, but the thing is that men with sissy fetishes or autogynephilia also call themselves trans women. “But they’re not!” is what you’re probably saying, right? Those men are perverts, right? Okay, but they call themselves trans women. How do you know who's telling the truth or not? How do we prevent the liars from hurting women? What is stopping a man with a fucked up fetish from identifying as trans, entering a woman’s bathroom, and assaulting someone? You might be thinking that if a man wants to assault somebody, a woman's bathroom sign isn't going to stop him from doing so, but the thing is, if you make it a law that anybody can go into whatever bathroom they want to go into, it then becomes asinine to call the police on him. The police can't do anything because how do they know he doesn't belong there? Do you understand why this whole thing causes women such great pause?

You and I can trade pathos all day. I can tell you sad stories from my childhood growing up gay. You can talk to me about a sad boy crying in his room wishing he was a girl. It always comes back to “who do you care about more?” If a teenage girl talks about feeling genuine discomfort over males being allowed in the school locker rooms and a teenage boy talks about how much he wishes he had access to the girl locker rooms because he “feels” like a girl, whose side do you take? Who do you care about more? I will always choose women and gay people.

I left something out of my post, anon. It wasn't relevant but now I think it is. I've talked about this before but when I was a kid I struggled greatly with the fact that I was black. I can say with full confidence that I had racial dysphoria. I wanted to be white so badly. Both of my parents are black people, but I used to ask people if I could pass as half white. It was pretty bad. Would you have told me that I was meant to be born white? No? Then why do you think it’s okay to tell someone they’re meant to be born the opposite sex? Why is sex the only thing people are allowed to say is “wrong” about them? How ingrained are biases about sex that people look at a little boy playing with dolls, say “he’s supposed to be a girl”, and a disturbing amount of people say “true!”? That’s insane! Imagine if someone looked at a white person eating watermelon and said they were meant to be born black? That’s how people with your ideology sound. You don’t think you sound that way because you’ve had so many people backing you up, but if you can tell me why racial dysphoria isn’t valid but gender dysphoria is, I’ll reconsider everything. It is my “bad” luck I was born black, anon. There is nothing I can do to change that. Some boy wishing he was a girl is a sad thing, sure, but it’s simply a matter of tough luck lmao. He shouldn’t suddenly get everything he wants just because of that.

“nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth.  i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

i’m a cis woman who was also bullied in middle school for being gay so unfortunately you cannot write this off as another “angry man” or whatever, but i expect you’ll find some other way to dismiss this criticism, or maybe you’ll pretend you didn’t read it despite me reading your much longer vitriolic post.

i’m not saying you have to love and welcome trans women into Our Spaces—although i wish you did feel that way—but specifically i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis. are genitals really that defining of a human being?  i personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.”

50% of the population? You and I have been talking about trans women this whole time. Are they 50% of the population? Are you talking about men when you say this? Why? This is a bit of a freudian slip, anon. Seems like I’m not the only one here who knows trans women and men are the same thing.

I do think that “nothing human is alien to yourself” is a beautiful phrase, and I do agree! There are men and straight people I can relate to just fine. But I don’t agree with calling males lesbians and I don’t agree that people can be born in the wrong body. I am defensive and combative. Women and lesbians are actively being threatened. Self-isolating though? No, I don’t think so. I don't feel isolated at all. In fact, I think being open about my views has led to me being close to people I never would’ve thought. And even if my views did lead to my isolation, I would much rather be alone than with people who are actively hurting women and gay people.

“i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis.” I can concede that saying “nothing” was more emotion based than logic based, but I think that the straight male experience is pretty damn different from the lesbian one. The male experience, in general, is pretty different from what I’ve had. That’s what I was speaking about. 

“are genitals really that defining of a human being?” I don’t know about how much they define a human being, anon, but they definitely do contribute a lot to how the world treats you. If you have a penis, the world treats you a shit ton better than they do if you have a vagina. That’s just facts. Nobody can help being born with a penis, but the world is not a fair place. Also, for a trait that is apparently so neutral, people with penises manage to commit 90% of all violent crime. What do you make of that? If genitals are really neutral, why isn’t the crime rate between people with vaginas and people with penises a 50-50 split? You said yourself that nothing human is an alien concept to other humans, so if women go through the same experiences men do, why is there such a large disparity in crime? Why can women go through the things men do (and worse, let’s be real) and generally not end up as criminals? What is it about having a penis that contributes to this?

“I personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.” I never said women are only their vaginas. If I tried to talk about racism, I would not be “reducing black people down to their skin color”. There is no reason why talking about the female experience should be met with claims I’m reducing women down to their vaginas.

[moodymisty]

Hey misty, I haven't seen the things you mentioned (not in a dismissive way, I mean since they were apparently dms) so maybe it's not nearly the "accidental slip up" I thought it was but could you elaborate on what you mean by "Not to mention the people who just use it as a place to blab about their current hyperfixation and couldn’t give a shit less about the person they’re talking to/eyeroll"? I'm still trying to wrap my head around how this stuff works and we have all these reaction images joking about people acting like rabid dogs and sending in messily written or typo laden asks and that get encouraged but at the same time it's bad to "blab about their current hyperfixation"? Like when is info dumping good and when is it bad?

Info dumping isn’t bad. I say this as a person who used to do it, but had to stop that urge for personal reasons. What I’m referring to isn’t infodumping, or those funny dumb asks you’re referring to.

Sometimes with people who make things their DMs tend to just become a place where you stuff your ideas in the hopes to get free stuff really quick. A lot of them believe that if they can evade the ask box by being a bit chatty, I will get their stuff done faster. I have people info dumping in my DMs all the time it’s fine hell @/bispecual blew up my tumblr DMs for awhile it’s how we started talking.

But when someone new comes into your DMs with ‘cool ideas’, writers always get nervous because you don’t know if this ‘infodump’ is going to end with the:

👉🏻👈🏻 anyways it would be really cool if you wrote this for me uwu

Because a lot of the time it does. It was less an infodump and more so just a roundabout way of asking for stuff without really asking. Because if they don’t ask, I might just make it right away instead of waiting their turn in the askbox ;3

Its frustrating. For once I would like to have a normal conversation or try to make friends without it eventually devolving into what I’m making, when it’ll be out, if I’ll make more, and if I can make their thing too. And how fast till it’s done.

I hope I explained why I was frustrated clearly, if not I apologize. I’m not the best with words.

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

some of those anti ts blogs willing to look past the fact that they got zionists in their circles just because those people also hate ts…wack

like do they realize it makes them no better than the people they criticize

being a hater is a noble pursuit, have some fucking morals oh my god!!!

ive always been a ts hater and i havent really known much about her until like last year because this shit is inescapable and its so bizarre how she seems to have parasocial stans and parasocial haters - both equally obsessed with her life

theyre like organisms in a petri dish to me

BEING A HATER IS A NOBLE PURSUIT HAVE SOME FUCKING MORALS!!!!!!!!

ive always been a hater too and got sucked back in around this time last year when she got with matty healy. i literally forgot she existed between 2017-2022 im not joking i literally heard NOTHING about her online or in my friend circle. and then i found out it was because she was in a 6 year relationship and i was like “oooooohhhhhh she was normal”

idk if i consider myself a parasocial hater but i do feel crazy that nobody remembers all her shitty past actions and i do. tbh sometimes shitswiftiessay posts stuff criticizing taylor’s appearance (it was comparing her face when she laughs to donald trumps) that’s actually misogynistic. im not stalking her every move so much as being critical and holding her accountable for her racism etc.

but its really hard to define parasocial hater rn when she’s the most exposed she’s ever been. so many ppl today on this blog were complaining how they were bombarded with taylor swift ads. i dont think this tag wouldve blown up if so many people werent feeling this way already.

and the whole reason i have this blog is because i felt so crazy explaining taylor’s history of racism and nobody caring/dismissing or at worst gaslighting me for even feeling this way. idk i appreciate all the other anti blogs but most of them are joe alwyn defenders (btw theres nothing wrong w that. but thats not the main reason im an anti) and none of them really talk about her racism. i made this space to talk about her and swifties racism, white feminism, etc.

and then oct. 7 happened (i literally made this blog oct. 2 its so funny) and seeing all the zionists and genocide deniers alienated me. i made it very clear from the jump that i was pro palestine and stood for the liberation of palestine so i didn’t post for a while and didn’t feel comfortable interacting in the tag cause it was full of zionists. it was also funny bc shitswiftiessay followed me immediately up until i stated my solidarity then they blocked me 🤣 soooooooo funny. so ive been pretty MIA until recently i got an ask abt jewishbarbies and that’s how im posting today :}

[ripplestitchskein]

The Story Foundations

Episode 2: LooLoo Land

Please see the master post for this series here. As always I try to only view this through what is shown in the canon content of the show, I don’t take into account outside media like the Sinstagram posts or things stated outside the text by the creators unless they are incredibly important as I feel the text should have everything the audience needs.

Let us begin.

The first thing I wanna talk about is the episode’s warning. Which sounds strange until you realize it warns for “sad horny demons”. A huge criticism I see, and that people often complain about, is Stolas “turning into” a sad owl boy and I talk about it a lot in my metas because the text tells us the opposite constantly. I just thought it was hilarious that the opening warning on the 2nd episode ever actually warns the audience about this outright. I also love that it’s plural, because Blitzø is also a sad horny demon. Honestly most of them are.

Anyway, to the episode:

The first shot is an establishing shot on Stolas’s huge mansion, specifically the balcony. I’m going to spend a few minutes here because I think the contrast between the Pilot (which is firmly non-canon but will come up a few times here to illustrate some key points).

The colors in the original Pilot for Stolas are desaturated, his royal iconography is his actual face coming out of a book and wearing a crown. There are other little marks in the stone that look like the book with fire coming out of it, and little crowns. The building is gray and a dull reddish pink and looks very blocky and severe. The balcony is the central focus of the establishing shot because Blitzø will exit it later but it’s very small.

In the actual canon our first time seeing the palace is just as grand but the building is more reflective of the “new” Stolas. I can’t think of a better visual representation of a character undergoing development changes in the pre-production phase of the creative process. It really shows how much the direction with Stolas changed as they began the real fleshing out process with him. The new palace is beautifully saturated, constellations on the walls, phases of the moon and plant vines in gold replace the previous iconography. The doors are a sun and moon. And the balcony is huge and centrally focused. I love that instead of the front of the palace or an overhead shot to show its grandeur we come in again at the balcony which is so pivotal throughout the series.

We have a voice over of a scared child calling for “Mommy, Daddy”. Initially I read this as her calling for whoever but rewatching and with more context from the episode and show overall I kind of read it now, after hearing what her nightmare was about, as Mommy, Daddy! She’s calling for her mother because something has happened to her father. The only reason I mention it is because of the episode being focused on the Father/Daughter relationship, the fact that Stella says “You do it” when Stolas wakes her saying Via is calling, and that a source of Octavia’s anxiety is her father leaving and being unable to find him (I have A LOT of theories about this as foreshadowing, especially with Stella dismissing her daughter and not being a source of comfort in the past or present, but that’s another post for another time).

This is one of those things where I war with knowing as a writer that you will absolutely make deliberate decisions like this with otherwise mundane dialogue, but also that sometimes you write things without further intent because that’s just a normal thing people say. Kids wake up yelling for their caregivers. But there is also a very real thing in productions like this where every line and every visual counts and is poured over and deliberate. Not only because you are paying people to perform and animate it, so you can’t waste it, but also because it’s such a short format, a lot has to happen in 13-30 minutes and you don’t want to waste a second . However, in this show, sometimes the dialogue is for the joke, because the VA improvised something funny, or for the shock value, so I don’t know how deep I should get, or how much emphasis to put on some things. I do my best.

So I’m not sure if it’s actually speaking to anything deeper, I might be putting more on this than needs to be said, but that’s who I am as a person.

Anyway, Octavia is having a bad dream. The visuals of her room are really telling. Her artwork is stars and moons and drawings of her and her father. The portrait is her and her father. Her nightmare is not about her losing her parents, but her father specifically. Most of this is to setup the episode conflict for Via about losing him and the overall stress of a divorce on a child, but some of it is also to show the disparity between her relationship with each of her parents. It is Stolas who gets up to console her, it is Stolas who features in the decor of her childhood bedroom, it is Stolas who reaches out to spend time with her later.

The grimoire follows Stolas into the room, and we get a new glimpse into his abilities, both the telekinesis and the portal.

Stolas begins singing, the song really sets up his main character drivers, he used to think he was bold, he used to think love would be fun, he feels his stories have already been told except for Via’s. He tells us he is dissatisfied with his life except for Via from very early on. This really gives us a quick brush of what underlies Stolas’s issues in the series and it’s a beautiful song. Baby Octavia being comforted and sleeping even through this grand collapse of a celestial body happening around her, because she is safe with her father is just great visually.

Octavia falls asleep peacefully and the scene abruptly changes to the present day and the contrast between then and now. Her room is devoid of any indications of her father now. There are no pictures or drawings on the wall.

She is awakened from sleep by the sound of her parent’s fighting, of Stella throwing things and yelling about Stolas fucking an imp.

Stella’s issue doesn’t seem to be that Stolas slept with someone else, but that who he slept with is an imp. Stolas says it happened so fast he didn’t have time to get a hotel and Stella is more concerned that getting a hotel is plebeian and lower class. This really shows us the state of their relationship, these aren’t people who were in a committed marriage where the adultery was the issue on either side. Stella isn’t mad he cheated, she’s mad about who he cheated with, and Stolas doesn’t feel guilty he cheated, just that he didn’t have time to do it more discreetly.

Octavia puts on a very apt song about her world burning down around her. Stella is throwing plants and servants.

“Do you want to fuck this one too?”

“No of course not.”

“You are a fucking embarrassment.”

This dialogue tells reinforces two things, that the issue is not the actual cheating for Stella but the social class of who he cheated with. For Stolas it’s not an imp fetish, or fucking someone of a lower station, but a very specific person.

There is a portrait in the room of a happier Stolas and Stella with Octavia with the LooLoo Land apple. Stella has her arms crossed and she’s slightly apart but her face is indulgent and slightly smiling. Stolas is focused entirely on Octavia and smiling hugely. A little sign that they both tried to make the best of things, especially for Octavia. Their home was at one point a happier one. At least visually, I talk a lot about how images are important to Stolas, this one is no exception, we see a relatively happy family but the underlying truth is that it wasn’t, Stolas sang about his unhappiness as early as Via’s childhood and we see the truth in the show’s reality.

Stella exits, screaming and destroying more things. Stolas meanwhile does what Stolas does and acts bright and cheery, greeting his daughter exuberantly like nothing is wrong. She mentions she’s listening to a song My World is Burning Down Around Me by Fuck You Dad, which we could jokingly think of as “theme stared”.

She’s asks if they are done screaming for the day, followed by Stella screaming and Stolas ignoring the question entirely and suggesting they go to LooLoo Land. Octavia is not thrilled with the idea, saying she is not five anymore, a time when she was happier and her family wasn’t falling apart.

Stolas says he’s arranging for security and he is very pumped up by his recent dalliance, exuding a different sort of confidence about people wanting them for their money and their bodies.

We get Stolas saying “the only man who can fuck me” and Octavia being rightfully weirded out. This line tells us he’s not actually calling because he needs a service, he wants to spend time with Blitzø.

Cut to Blitzø in his office being fucking bizarre with the Millie and Moxxie dolls and shoving them in his pants.

On his desk, and the focus of most of the shot, is a picture that says #1 Bitch with it written out and replaced with Boss but he appears to be wearing a robe very similar to Stolas’s (it does not appear to be the exact same one though) with a black rose in his mouth and on the picture is a paper crown that Blitzo dons with a little musical noise as he talks to the Goetia. The camera focuses on this picture for a long time and during the course of their conversation Blitzø moves the picture around to face him and dons the crown. I lost my mind a little noticing this detail. The picture was facing away while he was being weird with the dolls but when Stolas calls he puts them away, moves it to face him and puts on the crown that is a major motif for Stolas. Super interesting visual.

Stolas calls him his big dicked Imp and we have the cut away shots switching between Blitzø and Octavia saying What the Fuck and spit taking while Stolas tells them to watch their language which is hilarious…ya know considering. They have a rather disturbing conversation about Stolas planting his feathered ass but ultimately agree that Stolas will pay them money to protect them at the park. This is the first time we get the hint that Blitzø and Octavia think along similar lines, or mirror each other. The other comes later with Fizzarolli when they say “I hate that fucking clown”. I like that the two most important people in Stolas’s life are on the same wavelength so deliberately and so early in the show. It’s a very intentional choice.

It is also a progression point. Here Blitzø only agrees to do this for money. In Western Energy that isn’t even discussed even though the same service is provided.

A few other key things here, Octavia doesn’t seem to feel a body guard is necessary for a theme park. She seems to find the entire idea of needing a body guard to be foreign. It’s presented for what it is, as an excuse for Stolas to spend time with Blitzø. Yet at the park there are actually imp assassins following them around that Blitzø has to take care of. So there is a “threat” but Stolas seems capable of handling it himself later, and we also find out down the line that only angelic weapons can actually do any real damage to him.

The ultimate takeaway is Stolas is being selfish and focusing on this new sexual relationship at the expense of his daughter. He suggests a fun outing for them to recapture happier times but immediately uses it as an excuse to bring in the reason for the unhappiness. This scene serves as the final setup for the episodes conflict: Octavia’s fear of losing her dad, this time not because of a bad dream, but because of his affair with the imp he is forcing into their lives.

To be honest, it’s not my favorite scene or episode. I find both Blitzø and Stolas off putting in it, but the episode setup is complete, we are going to LooLoo Land, Blitzø, Moxxie and Millie are coming along for work. Octavia does not want to go.

We arrive at LooLoo Land in the IMP van. Stolas gets immediately into the role of fun theme park dad, donning his little apple hat. Stolas’s outfits often reflect the image he is trying to cultivate and that’s in full effect here. Octavia is reluctant and dragging her feet. She is telegraphing loudly she does not want to be here.

Blitzø lays out ground rules that they are here in a professional capacity and Stolas is not to fuck him or attempt to. Stolas brushes this off and says he’s cute. Octavia is revolted by her dad’s behavior. Blitzø also likens their arrangement to sex work, he is very firmly in that mindset. He later says he’s not a dayhooker. Later, as I previously stated the monetary compensation and even the grimoire deal is not mentioned as much, because their relationship and how they initially view it changes.

Moxxie goes into anxiety mode pulling out antacids and all kinds of stuff from a fanny pack. He does not like theme parks and has not been to one before while Millie is having a lot of nostalgia and excitement about the day.

Octavia asks about the park, revealing that it’s not LuLu World but a knockoff and the entire vibe of the park and its rundown appearance reinforce that. This world building will carry through to the Mammon special. The cast splits, Moxxie and Millie go off to enjoy the park and Blitzø goes with Stolas and Octavia.

I won’t break down all their scenes as they are largely irrelevant to the plot of the episode, but we get some backstory and dynamic stuff for Moxxie and Millie. Millie came from a poorer background but seemed to have a good family who took her to amusement parks when they could afford it, and she has fond memories of the place. Moxxie is trying to prove himself to his wife and is competing with someone for her even though she never indicates she needs it or that it’s even a competition. Moxxie does this with Striker later. Moxxie continues this cycle of poor self worth, trying to prove himself and failing, because he doesn’t actually need to.

Blitzø is acting very professional and taking his job seriously. Stolas is disregarding that, continuing to flirt, and we get our first basis for some of the reasons Blitzø won’t believe him later in the show. In this episode Stolas is very dismissive of his job and calls them imps several times in a very denigrating way. Stolas flirts and sexualizes Blitzø at the expense of his daughter and that conflict is very present the whole time until the end when he has that wake up call when she runs away from him.

Stolas is not a perfect father, he is not a perfect person. He has a taste of the sexual relationship he’s been craving and goes too far, and is too oblivious about how that affects others, to the detriment of everyone around him and to himself. Stolas’s obliviousness to other’s needs in service to the image he wants to project is really center stage here. He thinks Octavia loves Fizzarolli, that he was a happy memory, but we see in flashbacks she was actually terrified and hates the clown. Stolas is so caught up in having this perfect father daughter day he doesn’t pick up on her cues and keeps forcing her into things she doesn’t want to do. He doesn’t do this maliciously, or from a place of ill intent, just like he doesn’t oversexualize Blitzø for predatory reasons, he just lives in fantasy because he hates reality and he tries to bring those fantasies into reality by forcing it and being oblivious to other’s needs. As I talked about in the breakdown of the Ozzie’s scene Stolas goes out of his way to force things into the image he wants to project: a dad having a happy bonding day with his daughter.

This is Stolas’s main character flaw and it’s revealed here in this episode.

Blitzø is largely there to highlight this flaw. Stolas brought along the reason for the family’s destruction into this day that was supposed to be about his daughter. He’s trying to put up this happy front but the reason it’s not going well is his own actions. When Stolas ignores cues that Octavia doesn’t want to be there and flirts with Blitzø again after he takes out one of the assassins, Octavia gets fed up and leaves. Stolas goes after her.

Blitzø starts to follow but is called out by the Fizzbot. He stays in the tent and we get a little hint of Blitzø’s backstory with Fizzarolli, and Blitzo’s previous job at LooLoo land.

Fizzarolli asks him the super important question “Does anyone love you” just barely hinting at Blitzø’s character need, but present early on in the show and explicitly stated. This is almost exactly what happens with actual Fizzarolli in Ozzie’s. Seeing him in a crowd, calling him out and asking if anyone loves him.

Blitzø says no here, but he’s really good with guns now, and starts shooting at him. He then burns the circus down (*sings* foooorreshaadowwing). This is super interesting because it’s a setup for something we see change later. In Ozzie’s, Fizzarolli calls out to Blitzo in the exact same way, and asks him the exact same question. The next time he’s asked Blitzo doesn’t say no, he looks nervously at Stolas. That’s development baby. That’s growth.

Blitzø seems to have a lot of pent up anger for the Fizz bot and that’s a pin the writer’s setup early on to be explored later. We as the audience get information on some of his previous failures, his main conflict (the lack of and need for, love), and that these things are connected with this Fizzarolli person that Blitzo seems to hate to the point of burning down an amusement park to kill his proxy.

Meanwhile Stolas follows Octavia into the funhouse, an assassin goes for him and annoyed he says he is supposed to be bodyguarded. Millie takes out the assassin and he is dismissive of them, “not you littler ones”, and again shows us that he is playing out a fantasy. Blitzø is his knight in shining armor, even if he doesn’t actually need one, and he will contrive a situation to live that fantasy out (he could just turn the imps to stone but he wants Blitzø to have opportunities to save him).

This moment is really minimized in this episode but it’s huge when you look at Western Energy, as it’s directly reflected there. In that episode Stolas is in actual danger instead of contrived danger, Blitzø doesn’t think it’s an issue because he knows Stolas sets up these little scenarios for his fantasy. Except this time it’s real and his knight in shining armor once again does not save him, he’s saved by Moxxie and Millie again. It’s also when Bliztø realizes that Stolas can actually get hurt, that he really did need a knight in shining armor and Bliztø was not there. The fantasy he plays at in LooLoo Land becomes reality, but when it plays out this time Stolas actually gets hurt, Blitzø doesn’t save him. They both are faced with reality. I love things like this. A direct callback with change due to a character’s growth throughout the story? It’s beautiful.

Also, just to theorize a bit, this is a prime setup for the rule of three. In fiction things are often called back to three times, with gradual changes each time to contrast them and show the overall change in circumstance each time.

The first time at LooLoo Land, Stolas doesn’t actually need saving, he is safe but he wanted it and Blitzø wasn’t there. He’s disappointed. The second time in Western Energy Stolas does actually need saving but Blitzø isn’t there again and realizes at the end he should have been. Stolas is hurt emotionally and physically this time. Presumably, the third time Stolas will be in real danger, but this time he will assume Blitzø is not coming because he never has before, but this time Blitzø will be there, he will be what Stolas has been wanting. It would be a beautiful progression of their relationship and a great way to show the development and progression.

Back to the episode.

Stolas moves into the funhouse and has his needed heart to heart with Octavia. Octavia point blank says that this entire situation is his fault, he just spent the whole time flirting with Blitzø and ignoring how she felt. That this place was happy for her once but he ruined it with this affair. Stolas apologies for this and he tries to explain himself but fails. He doesn’t have the words. The general gist of his started and stopped sentences is that Stella and Stolas were not in love, that Stella has flaws, that he has flaws and he wants something else and always has. He doesn’t even know at this point what he wants, he can’t articulate it. The starts and stops are well done in that they tell the story without actually stating it, enough is given for audience inference but the character still doesn’t know. He doesn’t apologize for the affair itself but for causing her pain, he tries to explain why he did it but can’t. We’ll see him discover this as the show goes on but at this point he doesn’t know himself. He was enjoying the sexually charged fantasy but he was doing that at the expense of his daughter, and to a smaller degree in this episode, Blitzø.

Octavia expresses the fear setup at the beginning of the episode. That her father is going to leave her. Like he does in the flashback, he reassures her that is not going to happen. He would never willingly leave her. I also theorize that this is prophecy or foreshadowing. There will come a point where Stolas is gone and Octavia will need to help deal with it. There may be clues dropped in this episode when that day comes so something to keep an eye on. This is another candidate for the rule of three, Octavia dreams her father is gone, he finds her consoles her. Octavia fears her father will leave and her dream will become a reality, he finds her and consoles her. Later potentially he will be gone, and she will have to console herself and find him.

He tells her she was right, it’s time to go and like the flashback he carries her through the burning chaos of the circus, calling back to the celestial destruction, and then asks her what she actually wants. He gives her a choice. It’s the first sign of his character growth, he tried to force what he wanted on her to fulfill his fantasy but in the end he asks her and gives her a choice and autonomy.

This again is paralleled in Western Energy. It takes a big destructive moment for Stolas to realize he is ignoring what others want in service to his fantasies, and he takes the lesson he learned in LooLoo Land first to later give Blitzø what he wants after the events of that episode. The difference is that Octavia tells her father what she wants explicitly and then he gives it to her. She wants to spend time doing something she likes with her dad.

With Blitzø, what he tells Stolas with his actions and words is not what he actually feels and Stolas tries to handle it the same way using what he learns here, by giving it to him and giving him a choice, but we know it will ultimately be unsuccessful until Blitzø does what Octavia does and just tells him.

Blitzø, Moxxie and Millie fall in front of them.

Moxxie says something really interesting “Way to ruin another good thing, sir” which just has so many potential implications. Blitzø says it was worth it in this instance.

As I said before, this episode is not my favorite. We have a conflict (Octavia fearing her dad is going to leave her) and resolution (he promises he won’t and takes steps to show her) we have some character flaws introduced, the first mention of Blitzø’s character issue, a lot of exploration of Stolas’s and a lesson learned for Stolas that will be applied later by him in a similar way: giving the person he wronged a choice. We have a very loose three act structure but little stakes, and the plot is much more character driven than plot driven.

Overall we setup several things the writers explore much further down the road in Season 2 but the structure is not as cohesive and tight as it was in episode 1.

It’s a weak episode but it has strong setups for further exploration and looking at it with the context of what happens down the line shows that the writer’s do take into consideration what was introduced and continue the development begun here.

What’s important about LooLoo Land is that it shows us early that Stolas and his family drama and his relationship with Blitzø is a vitally important part of the show overall. If Stolas was just a plot driver or sexual comic relief character we wouldn’t get an entire episode devoted to his relationship with his daughter. He is shown to the audience as a whole character with this own flaws, desires and back and forward story to be explored. It’s also the 2nd episode of the series, so his establishment is only 2nd to the establishment of IMP and the overall premise. I harp on this a lot because most of the anti Stolas things I see ignore this fact completely. They reduce him down to the presentation of the OG Pilot instead of the direction the creators actually went, a pivotal main character going on his own journey within this story. (In my opinion if they had stuck to the original premise this show would be much much weaker and less compelling overall, but that’s a post for a different day.)

We are introduced to Stolas and his relationships even before Blitzø’s. We don’t even know that Loona is his daughter yet at this point in the canon text. We know nothing at all about Barbie Wire, his family, or anything outside of IMP. This is because this affair, the fall out, and the future consequences are CENTRAL to the entire show, they are why IMP exists, and they are central to Blitzø and his own growth and development. The same can be said of Fizzarolli, there’s a reason that backstory is hinted at in a Stolas episode. The question he keeps asking Blitzø, does anyone love you is first linked here. The events that take place in LooLoo Land are directly reflected in Ozzie’s and in Western Energy later. These setups take place so early on in the show’s run and are continually fleshed out and paid off as it continues.

The episode itself is weak but the foundations it lays are incredibly strong.