#but I have plans and I feel like I have to debunk this before getting to the stuff I care about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearwaldorf · 5 months

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I hate that you can't see a tweet thread anymore if you're not logged into Twitter (as a gesture of disrespect I refuse to call it by its rebranded name). Here is a copypasta of a thread from Dan Olson, a Canadian documentary filmmaker, expanding upon camera quality, the guilt trips Somerton used to goose his Patreon subscriptions, and how the best tools will never make up for lack of dedication or patience. I have added clarifications in [[double brackets]] where I feel it is necessary.

START OF THREAD

Okay, so, back in April I snapped at James in reply to a tweet that was linking to this video (which James has since delisted but not deleted) and I want to talk about the full context of that but I don't want to make a video, put your beatdown memes away. [[The video has since been deleted. I can see the title of the video is "Maybe the end (not an April Fool's Day thing".]]

The first bit of context is that I initially got keyed into James to fact-check his claims about indie filmmaking in Canada. As a filmmaker the entire Telos venture was immediately obvious as a juvenile fantasy dreamed up by someone with no idea how to make a movie.

Just wild claims about their plans that weren't worth debunking because they bordered Not Even Wrong. But in watching one of these pitch videos I noticed that he had a $4000 current-gen camera in the background as a prop, and that seemed both pretentious and weird.

You don't use your best camera as a prop, you use your second best camera as a prop. So being an obsessive weirdo I needed to know, and I watched his BTS stuff until I spotted his main rig, a $6000 camera with about $1000 in accessories.

Now, these in isolation are unremarkable because his Patreon at the time was bringing in ~$8000 per month, his channel was a full on Business business, and so investing in some professional equipment of that level is maybe a bit indulgent but justifiable.

What was weird is that he doesn't shoot multi-cam, doesn't shoot outdoors, doesn't shoot on location, and in a studio the two cameras kinda really step on each others' toes. Basically if you already have one and don't need a B cam there's no reason to get the other.

Again, on its own, this says nothing, it's just indicative of poor financial decisions, maybe impulsive purchasing, Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Biblical sins, but not crimes.

Paired with the constantly inflating fantasy scope of the Telos films it was clearly an expression of a very, very common bad filmmaker habit of "if I just get the right gear then my movie will basically make itself" Buying stuff because it feels like progress.

At the end of February he tweets "I want to start shooting anamorphic" and then three weeks later in March he posts the worst, out of focus, under-exposed "I just got a new lens!" video I've ever seen, showing off his trash-covered bedroom.

Based on what's available for his cameras and the lead time, that's enough time to get a Laowa Nanomorph or Sirui Saturn from B&H but not enough time to get a Great Joy from the UK or a Vazen from China. And with the flaring blah blah blah, $1300 lens.

Again, [gear acquisition syndrome] is not a crime and these lenses are budget options. Bit of a pointless impulse purchase since he only used it for the Showgirls video. But this is what he was doing just a few weeks before that above video came out: effortlessly impulse purchasing lenses.

James has (had?) a habit of regularly, aggressively driving viewers to Patreon by claiming that videos were getting demonetized. While tacky, it is something a lot of queer YouTubers have dealt with, so there's precedent there. But people were noticing he did it a lot.

Mid-March he humble brags about needing to work so hard to make 6 videos in April because he has over-booked sponsorships.

Then March 29th James posts this whole incel screed on Twitter about how sex work should be "subsidized as a mental health service."

[two image descriptions.

1. "For the majority of people sex (and human contact) can be imperative to a healthy state of mind. A kind and talented sex worker can make someone feel wanted for the first time in their life. I know sex workers who have pulled people back from suicide just by being there for them." 2. "Not only should (sex work) be legal, but it should be subsidized as a mental health service."]

He spends several days getting absolutely *roasted* for this, just dragged across the pavement and read for filth, and doubles down in the replies the whole way.

So this is the context immediately surrounding James waking up on Friday, and posts the above video and the below tweet.

[image description: "We just got the lowest Patreon payout we've gotten in well over a year. Like, a "maybe we need to rethink things" kind of amount... NOT an April Fools Day thing btw. But I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer."]

Now, this unfolds in kinda two directions. The first is that I'm convinced he was just lying about this income shock in the first place.

There's a million theoretical edge cases about what maybe happened and if maybe he just misunderstood the data or saw a glitch and panicked, maybe one of those happened, I don't believe it, I think he just lied because he was salty about getting dragged and felt owed a win.

A big tell to me is that he doesn't blame Patreon. He says he doesn't know what happened, but let's be real, Patreon screws up all the time, they're the first people anyone blames if anything confusing happens, just as a reflex action, even if it's completely not their fault.

The only reason to not blame Patreon is if you already know that it's not their fault and that any investigation on their part might reveal embarrassing details.

Instead he indirectly blames his viewers for not watching enough, not sharing enough, and not turning on auto-renew.

So regardless of the unknowable truth, this segues into the second, far more offensive direction of the messaging itself. "I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer." "Maybe the end" He explicitly framed this as an immediate existential threat to his channel.

In the video he is vague about everything, leaves a ton of hazy room for plausible deniability on how long the channel can keep going, but the messaging is "I need more patrons right this minute or my YouTube channel is over."

He repeatedly evokes all the "fun stuff" they had planned that would never see the light of day if this didn't turn around right away.

And his audience received this message loud and clear. Tons of people making far, far, far less than him left very heartfelt messages about digging a little deeper to subscribe or up their pledge or unsubscribe from other channels to move their pledge to his.

1200 new patrons in one day.

Since I simply don't believe the income shock was real in the first place that would put his post-"Maybe the end" Patreon income at around $10,000 per month. US. Add YouTube income, he's spent the last seven months making around $18,000 per month.

I have seen creators scale back their capabilities to the bone purely to keep making videos for the love of just, like, making stuff even as their funding evaporated and they needed to go back to a desk job to cover their bills.

You'd have to be so outstandingly reckless with your finances as a channel that a one month spook leads immediately to "channel over, sorry about all the fun stuff we won't get to do with you, our patrons, specifically because you, our patrons, aren't giving us enough money"

And not a spook where you then spend a couple weeks crunching numbers. Oh no. A shock so violent where less than two hours later you're weeping on camera about the channel being over.

Three weeks later he brought a brand new Sony FX6v for $8000 CAD to add to his pile of cinema cameras despite the fact that he was, but scant moments earlier, in such a precarious position that a single bad month would kill his channel.

He stole your money, and for that I'm profoundly sad and angry. That's why I snapped at him in April. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full context then, and I'm sorry if that anger upset you.

END OF THREAD

#james somerton #dan olson #hbomberguy #jesus christ tumblr #it won't let me format things the way i want #because this website is sometimes a piece of shit

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laineystein · 5 months

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How do you make peace with the IDF storming into hospitals and UN schools? How do you make peace with the news that the IDF opened fire on Israeli citizens on October 7th? Why do the Palestinians deserve to be chased out of their homes since 1948? Do you know about Rachel Corrie? Do you know that the IDF has killed a record breaking amount of journalists? I don't understand how you can be so close to this tragedy and act like it is anything other than genocide.

You make peace when you understand international law and learn that the only war crimes being committed are being committed by Hamas. We’re not storming hospitals or schools. International law also states that as soon as a faction begins using an area for military purposes, it is no longer protected. It is no longer a “civilian” area, even if civilians still reside there. So many sources (that notably hate Israel and Jews) have come out confirming that Al Shifa is Hamas HQ. Many sources have come out confirming that Hamas is using schools to store weapons and indoctrinate children *and* that NGOs like the UN have turned a blind eye.

You make peace when you learn to educate yourself instead of falling victim to jihadist propaganda. The “Israelis killed their own people on October 7th” lie has been debunked. No sources could be found confirming that and the IDF and the Israel Police both came out saying that was factually inaccurate. If you know reporting out of those groups you know that when we’ve fucked up, we admit it. This was all a fabrication to excuse terrorism and continue to wrongfully demonize Israel.

You make peace when you deal with actual facts. There was a two-state solution planned before 1948 and then four countries attacked Israel and we defeated them all which lead to what y’all refer to as the Nakba. BUT!!! The Jewish population did not want their Arab neighbors to leave. Arab nations encouraged the Nakba. Arab nations have always used the plight of the Palestinian people to further their agenda of demonizing Israel in an attempt to eradicate it and kill Jews. But if we’re going to talk to about being expelled from your homes - Jewish families were expelled from Gaza in 2005 when we gave the land to the Palestinians. Do you care about that? Where are the Jews in Iraq? Yemen? Afghanistan? Syria? Sudan? Morocco? Feel free to talk about how those people were ethnically cleansed from those countries - but if that doesn’t interest you then your activism might be performative and you might just hate Jews.

I know it is not genocide because I’m so close to it. I spent all of last week ensuring the safe passage of Palestinians out of Gaza, into the South. I had Palestinians thank me. I administered aid to Palestinian children and the elderly. I watched them pray to Allah that Hamas would go away. What happened to my people on October 7th was an attempted genocide - something that Hamas has admitted to. What we are doing in Gaza is working to prevent a genocide, one of Hamas’ own doing.

Please read a book. Please get off social media. Please stop regurgitating lies fed to you by influencers and antisemites that did not care about this conflict before October 7th. You clearly need to be educated and messaging an IDF soldier on anon isn’t the way to do it. I have better shit to do. Yalla bye✌🏼

#⚔️🇮🇱#the schmucket continues to grow in size #y’all have lost the plot

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back2bluesidex · 10 months

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Monitoring Duty - JJK

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Managerial staff!Reader

Theme: Fluff, f2l (kinda), coworkers to lovers (kinda)

Summary: You are tasked with monitoring Jungkook's weverse live tonight, which starts with you trying to shove ramyeon down your throat and ends with Jungkook confessing that he likes you too.

Wordcount: 1.7k+

Warnings: None.

A/N: trust me, I had no plans of writing this one but couldn't really get this idea out of my head... so, please suffer with me. thank you very much. and it's really stupid so please forgive me.

Weverse: 🌟JK started a LIVE - I am tired..

Your phone dinged with the notification. You know what it can be and you are prepared but currently you are struggling to chew and swallow the last bit of cup ramyeon, so that you can finally get into your monitoring duty.

Drinking the water in a breath and debunking choking possibilities, you reach for your work laptop. Opening the application while putting down the password doesn't take you more than 10 seconds.

And finally you are in. Now all you have to do is to monitor Jungkook and take appropriate actions when there is an inappropriate situation such as, he falls asleep, or he spoils his upcoming schedule, or he gets repetitive calls from a sasaeng etc.

You melt on the hotel couch. Your limbs feel like jelly due to all the workload you have been through since 4 am in the morning. Being a managerial staff of a Kpop idol is neither fancy nor pleasant. While thousands of fans dream of being at your place, you want nothing more than a year long break. But then again, the pay is good and you are in need of money as well as a strong professional profile.

And another reason for you pursuing this gruesome job is, the man you are currently monitoring.

It has been more than two years since you joined Hybe. For the first year you worked with the entire team and for the last one year, you have been appointed as one of the managerial staff of the maknae.

You don’t know when in this last one year, you started to grow and harbor some kind of fondness towards Jungkook. Not that you don’t know the rules and regulations of the company (most of which don’t apply in terms of BTS), you can recite those better than your phone number, but still… staying immune to Jungkook’s charms, and especially the way he treats you with all the kindness of the world (which makes you wonder at times whether feelings are mutual or not), wasn’t possible for you.

You know it’s foolish, you know there will be no return to your affection but you still like to enjoy this feeling of liking him, adoring him from afar, praying for him in silence. You will move on someday, but as of now, your focus is trained on him and only on him.

“Oh the festival? The festival was crazy! You know it’s the first time I have performed in a festival all alone without the members, so it was scary and I was nervous. But seeing the other artists enjoying themselves and watching you guys cheering for me helped me a lot. Hope you guys liked it.” Jungkook giggles. You mirror his actions while watching him through your laptop screen.

If you put your ear on the wall, you could probably hear his mellow voice piercing through the thin cement of the overpriced hotel room. You are given the room beside him for handling emergencies quickly and he doesn’t even know that. He doesn’t even care, does he?

You shake off your thoughts as you try to focus on the live.

Jungkook restlessly talks and tries to interact with the fans despite being dead tired. You have been with him all day long and you know how hectic things were. He has hardly got any sleep since the day he landed in the US. Interviews, performances, event invitations, everything was lined up one after another. It all ended with the Summerfest performance today. Just this one live and after that he will get to rest for a couple of days before catching a flight back to Korea.

You roll your eyes as Jungkook starts to sing to comply with the request of a fan.

“He just performed for an hour and twelve minutes! And you people still want him to sing? Even when he is clearly tired?” you groan at the screen. Most of the time you respect fans’ love for Bangtan but sometimes their nonchalant demands really piss you off.

Jungkook finishes signing and starts coughing immediately. You follow the live stream as he leaves his chair and starts looking for water in the refrigerator.

He coughs some more and then with a very choked voice, says, “ah! Guys! I’m running out of water. Should I drink water from the faucet then?”

You grab two bottles from the nightstand as soon as possible and run towards his room.

Within a few moments of ringing the bell, Jungkook appears at the door. At first his eyes go wide seeing you standing there wearing an oversized tshirt and a pair of sweats, then his eyes fall on the bottles you have in your hold. He coughs again and you hastily open the cap of one of the bottles and thrust it towards his lips. He grabs it immediately and drinks until he is satisfied.

You try not to stare at the way his adam’s apple bobs when he chugs water down or the way he wipes his lips to get rid of the remnants of water, but fail miserably and you guess Jungkook notices that too, otherwise there is no apparent reason for him to smile sheepishly.

“Thanks” he says, closing the bottle, “so… you are on monitoring duty tonight?”

“Yeah. Are you okay though? You have been coughing since morning.” You reply, neglecting the way your skin heats up because of Jungkook’s intense stare at your smaller form.

“I am fine, Y/N. Much better now that you are here…” Jungkook pauses, your eyes widen at his statement, “with the water I mean.” both of you chuckle nervously.

“Umm.. I will wrap it up quickly okay? I don’t want to overwork you. Just give me ten more minutes.”

“Jungkook, it’s alright. Take your time. I like to watch you doing silly stuff anyway.” you smile and he giggles.

“It felt nice… hearing you say that.” Jungkook gives you one of his bunny smiles as his dark orbs find yours. You two stay there staring at each other, without giving a damn about the 10 million people that are currently staring at a chair, until reality finally seeps into your veins again.

“Bye. Good night.” you murmur as Jungkook nods.

He is already back at his seat when you come back to your room and sit on the couch.

“Jungkook-ah, I wish I had a better word than love to explain how much I love you.”

Jungkook reads a comment.

“Umm… better word than love? Is there anything like this?” He thinks for a moment, squirting his eyes, placing his index finger on his chin and pretending to think hard, “I watched a drama where the male lead confesses his love for the girl he likes saying something like ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I think that was really romantic. So, from now on if you want to say that you love me beyond explanation, use ‘the moon is beautiful’ and I will understand right away. Okay?”

You see as the comment section goes wild with “moon is beautiful” comments rapidly. Fans really love him a lot and he too, is so dedicated to his fans that sometimes you get jealous.

Within five more minutes, Jungkook is saying bye and turning the live stream off. You leave a sigh of relief, nothing went wrong under your watch and now you can finally sleep.

You hit the bed with a thud, wrap the duvet around your body and close your eyes only to be startled by the vibration of your phone that is kept on the nightstand.

You grab your phone with an annoyed huff, which vanishes when you see it’s a text from Jungkook.

“Do you wanna grab a beer? If you are not asleep yet?”

And the next moment you are bolting towards Jungkook’s room, fucking your sleep and nighttime rest.

You two settle comfortably at the balcony, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, while staring at the night sky. Gradually you forget that you are tired and you haven’t got any sleep for almost 20 hours now. But who cares. If having no sleep exchanges a bit of quality time alone with Jungkook then you would gladly stay awake night after night.

“Jimin hyung texted me earlier, saying I did a great job.” Jungkook says, sipping on his beer.

“See, you were panicking for nothing. You always do a great job.” You reply, he chuckles and then for a minute or so, you two fall into a comfortable silence. Until Jungkook decides to break it.

“The moon is beautiful.” Jungkook whispers and you hear it loud and clear. Your heart stops beating for a moment. You stare at the said moon blankly. You don’t know if it is what you think it is. Maybe you are wrong, the moon is really beautiful tonight and that pact he made, is between him and his fans, it has nothing to do with you. On the top of that there is no way he feels something for you. You are just a nobody, nothing in front of him and his grandiose life.

So you reply, “yes, it is.”

“Y/N… You have been watching the live and you know what I mean right?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly feels closer to your body. You don’t know if it’s really happening or is it just a fragment of your dream, so you stay silent.

Jungkook grabs your arms and turns your body to face him.

And then within a moment you are caged between his muscular body and the balcony railing.

“Don’t I deserve an answer?” Jungkook breathes on your lips.

“Do- do you really..?”

“Yes, I do. And I wonder why you didn't notice it when I am always giving you heart eyes, when I am trying to be as close to you as possible, when I am always looking for chances to converse with you, to spend a little bit of time with you.”

“But- Jungkook..”

“What’s your answer, Y/N?”

“Jungkook, my answer doesn’t matter. Not when I am one of your employees. It’s prohibited for me.” you try to make him understand.

“You just need to say yes, Y/N. I can manage the rest.”

“I will get fired.”

“You won’t. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do.” “Then let me take care of things okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him, as he connects his forehead with yours. You breathe in him, his scent, his warmth and his affection for you. You don’t know about the future, you don’t have a clue about the struggles you are about to face. But you know you love him and he loves you back. So maybe things will be alright. You will let Jungkook take care of things as he wants, as for now, when he reaches down to lock his lips with yours, you taste euphoria on him.

A/N: The idea of "Moon is beautiful" instead of "I love you" is derived from the KDrama "Romance is a bonus book.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @soraviie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook

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winterarmyy · 5 months

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Random fluffy blurb of Bucky helping the reader with her breast-pumping routine.

i have never been pregnant so i'm sorry for the incorrect terminology and such but...

Hear me out, like, she supposed to breast pump her milk like every couple of hours which means she needs to wake up in the middle of the night too.

But that ain't happening today when her precious 3 months old baby caught a fever and has been crying all day, feeling discomfort and unable to sleep. To make it worst, Bucky's not there to help. He was supposed to be home yesterday, but he was on a mission and the jet he flew on had some kind of technical issues.

Now, he was stuck in somewhere in Europe.

As a new mom, she was still clumsy and unfamiliar with taking care of a baby. Much less a sick one at that. She had been anxious the whole day, worrying if what she was doing was helping the baby at all. When the her precious little one keeps wailing on and on, she couldn't help but to cry as well. She felt helpless; somehow incompetent.

Bucky on the other hand, begs to differ, and he keeps on reassuring her through their video call. Saying that she's doing great and that he was proud of her for holding her grounds so well.

He promised that he'll be home soon.

And soon it was, when Bucky quietly slipped into their apartment at around 2am in the morning. Judging how calm it was, he assumed that his wife and baby was asleep.

So, he took the liberty to clean up for a bit. He could see the traces of chaos and panic left behind from y/n's attempt to take care of the baby; it made Bucky wished that he had never gone to the mission.

After tossing the dirty baby clothes in the washing machine, putting away the half eaten sandwich, and propped the dishes in the dishwasher, he decided to check on y/n first before visiting his poor, sick baby.

But turns out he didn't have to; not when he saw his little bundle was joy sleeping on his bed with y/n curled soundly beside her. His two best girls. Bucky's chest swelled with utter joy and indescribable pride just by looking at them.

While he revelled at the view, the light popped up from the screen of y/n's phone caught his attention. It was an alarm to remind herself to pump her milk. Good thing, Bucky managed to slide the alarm off before the sound become louder, or else the baby will wake up for sure.

Sometimes, Bucky thinks that his little one seemed to get his super soldier hearing ability from him; even though Banner debunked his speculations with the DNA test results that stated that his baby did not have, not even a drop of the super serum, in her blood.

Good thing that Bucky had showered and cleaned up before he flew home. He just had to stripped into his sleepwear and went straight to plant multiple of light kisses on his daughter's chubby cheeks and tiny hands. Satisfied, he made his way around and out to grab the breast pump kit. He placed it on the night stand next to y/n's side and started to prepare it.

Though he was planning not to wake y/n up and help her with the pumping, it was as if her body remembered the schedule. She stirred even before Bucky touched her and her eyes squinted upon awaken.

"Hey, sweetheart." Bucky whispered lovingly. He took the opportunity of her moving around, to lift her up a little, just enough for him slip behind her on the bed. She whined and hummed as he positioned her body to lay on him as his back leaned his back to the headboard.

Bucky firmly pull her back against his chest when she spoke, "Hi, Bucky. When did you get home?" Her voice was hoarse, but quiet enough to make it sound soft.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, slighty squeezing her when he kissed her cheek, "Just now." His lips travelled to her jaw, "I missed you so much, doll. And our baby." She smiled before replying that they missed him too.

Relishing in his pampering touch, she let out a sigh before declaring that she has to get up. Bucky didn't budge at all, let alone letting her move. She claimed that she needed to pump her milk, since she barely got to do it today; but, if her eyes was not as heavy as they were, she would've see that Bucky had it all prepared.

Her heart burst with appreciation as she thanked him; she wondered what has she done to deserve such a thoughtful husband; preparing her breast pump kit so she didn't have to leave the bed and all. But what she didn't know was Bucky didn't even want her to lift a finger.

"I got you, mama." He whispered as his fingers traces the button of her pyjama shirt. He popped it off one by one, slowly revealing her covered chest while his mouth never stopped spewing the sweetest things in her ears.

He undid the front hook of her bra, letting her soft heavy breasts spill out of it's confinement. She let out a shuddered moan when his hand went up and gave a gentle squeeze on boobs. Bucky chuckled lovingly when she almost gasped when he rolled her nipples in between his fingers.

After getting an annoyed growl from her, Bucky swiftly went back to his original objective as he placed the cups on each side of nipples and let the machine do its thing.

And after such a long day of self-induced stress, y/n simply melts into a puddle of pleasure and relief as her husband pampered her with praises and gentle kisses.

"Thank you, sweetheart. For giving birth to our baby, for taking care of her."

"You're such a good mama."

"I couldn't ask for more."

"I'm so proud of you."

Every kiss felt as if Bucky was kissing something so delicate and precious; his soft lips travelled from the back of her ear, along her neckline, her shoulders and back again to the crook of her neck.

She leaned back to get closer, even if there was no space in between them, wanting more of his lips, his touch. Wait. Why is he not wrapping his arms around her? She peeked down to see both of his hands were occupied on holding the pumps, "Y'know Bucky, you don't need to hold it all the time." She reminded him.

He was well aware that there was a bra that can hold the cups in place but he refused to use it.

First of all, he loves her boobs.

They're absolutely fantastic, absoultely phenomenal. So why would he want to let the bra be the cockblocker from letting him see them?

And, he also knew that she hates to wear bras, the only reason she wears them now were mostly because her milk keeps leaking out. So any chance to have her boobs out, Bucky would take it. Besides, he absolutely has plans to do after he finished pumping her.

"I know, mama. But, this is easier." He said.

y/n titled her head back to peek a look at her husband, "Easier?"

Bucky's lips curved into his signature smirk before he hummed, "Yes. Easier for daddy suck on your sweet nipples later."

And i---

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #bucky fluff

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satorubi · 1 year

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• — ♱ synopsis — toji teaches you to abide by his rules.

• — ♱ content warning - pwp, minors dni! meandom! toji but he softens up later on, f! reader, sub! reader, masturbation, fingering, doggystyle, missionary, overstimulation, breeding, squirting, daddy kink, use of pet names such as ꒰ slut, sweetheart, angel ꒱ toji has a chest tat i don’t make the rules. toji also has somewhat of a humiliation kink???

• — ♱ notes - i had to write about ceo toji again bc he’s been clouding my brain. this one is a long one, i loved this idea :p thank u for reading, ily, & reblogs and interactions are always appreciated <33

coming home to you was toji’s favorite part of the day.

after a excruciatingly long week, he could finally return home to his pretty wife; who’s just as eager to see him too— sending flirty texts and selfies while he’s at work typing up documents. toji may not have shown it often, but when he was away from you, he felt empty. it was nothing more than a blessing and a privilege to arrive home smothered with hugs and kisses — everything he’d missed while at the office. it was a feeling he’d never get tired of, a sight he’d never want to be shielded from.

but tonight, he couldn’t exactly say he was too pleased when he got home.

the thunder outside roared loudly as toji stepped foot into your shared humble abode, expecting to be greeted by you within seconds. but to his surprise, you seemed to have had other plans.

the usual aroma of your perfume was absent from toji’s vicinity— you were nowhere to be found. his gruff voice echoed through the home, calling out for you as he paced around the house. kitchen? empty. living room? empty? backyard? empty. not a single sight of the presence he craved most. he assumed maybe you’d gone out for groceries or maybe with a friend for dinner— but that theory was debunked the moment he heard a faint buzzing sound coming from behind your bedroom door.

heavy footsteps stomped toward the bedroom, with a hand on the doorknob and a determined look on his face, his movements were put at a halt. a familiar symphony played behind the barricade and toji’s brain began putting the pieces together.

without another thought, his hand twisted at the doorknob, creaking it open slowly as he peeked a head into the room.

he’d finally found his wife— and god, was it a beautiful sight.

you laid flat; back against the mattress with your legs spread as far as they could be— your laced panties pulled to the side. your hands held a tiny pink toy in the shape of a rose, that same hand being between your thighs as your mouth produced strangled moans and whimpers. the man’s fist bawled beside him— angry.

he hated when you did this; masturbating. it was a reoccurring debate in your relationship, toji claiming that it was ridiculous to do so when you had a husband willing to fuck you whenever you wanted. you’d always laugh him off, finding it humorous that the simple task damaged his little ego— but you knew the rules and you knew how strictly toji felt about them — so why would you break them?

he found it captivating how you hadn’t noticed his presence. you were so clouded by bliss that you didn’t realize his tall figure now standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. it wasn’t until the startling sound of his throat clearing caught your attention. you averted your eyes to your husband— your heart beating from the build up of your orgasm and the scare of toji’s unannounced appearance.

“what're you stopping for? you like actin’ up when i’m not around, so do it now” he hissed, darkened eyes fixed on you and the small mess between your legs. you only sat there; not a single movement made. you were startled, yet still aroused.

truthfully, you thought you had a good thirty more minutes before his arrival, your impatience let your hormones get the best of you. you pout, still not saying a single word. he was overreacting. it wasn’t like you’d fucked yourself to a lousy video online; you still had your hubby in mind— you always did.

“not talkin’ to me now either? i see you’re just breakin’ all the rules tonight aren’t ya’?”

you shake your head in a ‘no’ gesture, only egging him on more from the ongoing stillness he called the silent treatment. it seemed like you blinked once and toji was removing his fastened button-up shirt, the fabric uncovering the abstract ink that spread across his chest. he then moved to his belt, slowly undoing the leather before moving to his slacks and underwear until nothing but his cock sprung free.

it was so pretty. he was girthy with some length on him; from the head to his shaft ran blue-ish veins that stuck out more when it thumped from pressure, as well as a sticky fat tip that leaked of precum that you loved licking clean.

“get your ass over here, now.”

you powered off your forbidden toy, placing it on the side of the nightstand before inching toward your straight-faced husband. he took his cock in his hand and slapped it against his tummy; his way of of telling you to get on your knees. before you could bring yourself to begin, you lifted your head to look him in the eyes, your pretty lashes flickering up at him in a pleading manner.

“t-toji i’m sorry, baby. i shouldn’t have—“

“shut the fuck up,” he interjects, breathing heavily through his nostrils, “and no hands. take it all.”

his demands weren’t exactly impossible to meet; your pouted lips part to wrap around his leaking cock, taste buds recognizing his salty substance in an instant. you began with soft kitten licks to his tip, running your tongue over the slit as a warmup. any other time, this would’ve been the usual, but as of tonight, toji wasn’t putting up with your games.

his rough hand cupped under your chin as he held your jaw open, “do it right or it’s gonna’ be worse for you. i’m not fuckin’ around, y/n. you’ve pissed me off enough.”

“i’m sorry,” you whine, placing a hand on his thigh only for him to shun it away.

“don’t apologize, get to work.”

and you did— for the second time, you took him into your mouth, the warm sensation of your throat causing toji to groan. with his hand still on your jaw, he guided your head back and forth; the sounds of your gagging making him tense up in your mouth. spit began to form in both corners of your mouth as you continued you suck and choke on his hard on.

“yeah, swallow all that shit,” he encouraged, your heart fluttering at the given praise. you tried your best to engulf him in, but due to his size your throat struggled to take him, but that didn’t stop your determination. you gagged around him, your hands resting on your thighs for balance as he vigorously fucked your face; his hands now cradling the back of your head as you tried to take more of him in.

toji didn’t fail to notice your effort. he knew he was big and that’s what made it all the more fun; seeing his pretty little wife struggle to take what’s hers. but if he had to admit it, you really were trying your best— your eyes looking up at him with hope, continuing to search for some sort of approval as your nose got closer to meeting his pelvis. you were almost there and he was so proud of you, but he couldn’t show that of course— not when he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

he continued to fuck your face, observing as spit and precum convered you. in guilt, he decided to give you a breather, pulling away with a string of saliva hanging from his cock. you looked so beautiful— drool pooling from your now swollen lips that ached for a kiss.

“on the bed,” was all he muttered to get you to rise from your knees. you positioned yourself on the mattress, allowing your legs to spread open so he could have a clear sight of your leaking cunt. your pussy was so pretty— and not to compare, but he’s claimed it to be the prettiest he’s ever seen; two soaking lips that held your sensitive bud between them— and don’t even him him started on the taste.

“what were you doin’ when i got home, sweetheart?” he asks, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it come from your sweet mouth instead.

“toji— please.”

“nah, tell me. what were you doin’?”

you sent him a shameful glance, embarrassed but turned on all at once. your husband had a habit of doing that during sex— watching you become flustered from just simple dirty talk; it was almost like he got off from humiliating you.

“t-touching myself,” you finally state.

“and what’d i say about that?”

your chest heaves as he reaches a hand down to touch at your lower half. he traced over the damp patch in your underwear; the exact spot being the delicate beauty of your clit.

“that if i w-wanted you..all i had to do was ask,” you stumble over your words as the man rubbed at your spot, the slow circles around the sensitive area causing you to whine.

“ah, exactly. so, you wanna’ tell me why i walked in on you being a fuckin’ slut?” he grumbles, in a calm, yet, harsh way.

“toji— i’m sorry, please, baby—“ a small pat to your cunt interrupts your jumbled sentence, toji being unpleased with your answer. you could feel his cold fingers begin to push over the fabric that shielded you.

“answer me.”

“because— fuck! i missed you. you’ve been so busy at work. i don’t know toji— i was thinking of you, only you,” you plead, eyes shutting from the small amount of pleasure. he slowly stuck his middle and ring finger into you, the cold metal of his wedding ring grazing against your walls. you let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as his fingertips pushed against that sweet spot.

“and that gives you the right to be a greedy brat?” he presses. you could barely give him a clear response, the pleasure was overwhelming and the cool temperature of the room didn’t make it any better; nipples hardened and goosebumps covering your skin.

“n-no! i’m sorry, please fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, lips churning to a smile that uncovered his pearly whites, “but weren’t you just fuckin’ that silly little toy? now you want some dick— after i told you over and over again i’d be happy to make this pretty pussy cum any time of day?”

“toji- i wan’ it. i won’t ever do it again.”

toji had a love/hate for punishments. a part of him wanted to fuck you dumb as a lesson, but the other half of him wanted hold you close with his head buried into your neck, making you cream all over his cock as he as he apologizes for not tending to your needs sooner— but you had to learn one way or another.

toji pulled his fingers from your pussy, a cry escaping your lips as you yearned for his contact. his palms grabbed at your feet, pulling you toward the edge of the bed, “flip over and arch your back.”

you wasted no time doing so, making your stomach touch the cool sheets as your ass was held high in the air. toji’s cock twitched at the sight because, well…damn. he didn’t know whether it was the angle or the position, but your ass somehow looked bigger than it was when he last fucked you this way. he couldn’t believe he’d been missing out on this— your sweet, fucking pussy that just craved him and only him.

toji fully removed your panties, getting rid of the hassle of pulling them to the side. looking down, he gathered up a wad of saliva in his mouth, spitting on both his dick and your already wet cunt— lubricating you both.

“t-toji please put it in— i need it.”

“you really rushin’ me like this after how you’ve behaved? after how you’ve disrespected me,” he asks, rubbing his tip against your folds; wetness coating him.

reaching your arms back, your manicured hands spread your cheeks apart, letting him see your pretty pussy open and ready for him, “fuck me. i’ve been bad, but i-i can take it, i promise,” you hiccup, looking back at him with sweet doe eyes that held nothing but lust. toji had never seen you this way— so needy. so willing to take him without another thought in that mind of yours.

usually, you ran from dick, but tonight you needed him— bad.

you’d spent too much time away from one another. with toji working almost every day, it’s hard to get a moment to have such intimacy. he took it as disrespectful for you to please yourself, but who else would do it if he wasn’t here?

“stay like this. if you run, i’ll walk away and leave your ass here, understand?” his comment came out as a low groan due to the feeling of him finally sliding into your warmth. titling his head to the side, he watched as you nodded, sucking him in so effortlessly with your tightness. he placed his hands on top of yours that still rested on your ass; his way of holding you down while still keeping you so open.

“ooo— fuck yes, toji!”

your moan was loud as his pace was rough, but not too fast— still wanting you to adjust to his size. toji was mesmerized. between watching himself split you open to the way your ass jiggled with every thrust, he didn’t know what to focus on. you were just so pretty beneath him like this.

“pussy’s so tight. she missed me, huh? missed me stretching her out every night?” he mumbles, but it’s loud enough for you to hear, making you clench around him. toji released your hands and let them fall to your side as he gripped at your hips; his thrusts becoming more prominent with every cry, every whimper, and every moan you let fly from your lips.

“yes, yes, yes— missed you. missed you s-so much, baby,” you whine, your voice battling to compete with the sounds of rain outside the window and a queefing, sopping cunt.

“ha, look at that, she’s talkin’ to me too, y/n.”

although you couldn’t see him, you knew there was a smirk expanding across his face. he was fucking you so good. you could barely ponder a single thought in your pretty little head. your mouth was hung open with your tits pressed against the mattress as he drilled into you like never before— it was all so much at once.

“take it, take it all. feel me fuckin’ you? it’s better than a toy ain’t it? yeah, i know it is,” he grunts. you could feel your orgasm approaching, the curve of his length kissing your g-spot over and over again. just when you were about to release, toji pulled out, standing on the back of his heels while slapping his tip on your cheek— an aggravated moan leaving you.

“toj— what the fuck? w-why would you—“ your complaints were cut off by a loud slap! sound. the stinging gesture to your ass making you jump.

“watch your mouth, y/n. fuck me back and stop bein’ lazy.” he utters, watching as you adjust your arch.

with your hands stretched in front of you, your fingers tightly hold the sheets as you begin to move up and down his dick, a creamy white liquid staining him. toji stumbled back a bit at how hard you were trying, your ass pushing against him damn near making him cum at just a few movements.

“just like that, sweetheart. there you fuckin’ go.”

“toji— daddy, im gonna’ cum!” you cry, your actions becoming faster when you realize toji is following your pace, fucking himself into you while grabbing the plush of your sides. he could feel you pulling him in as you reached for your second climax.

“hold it.”

“but— toji, please i’m—“ you plea, reaching back to grab at his arm for support only for him to slap it away and tell you to take it. you squeezed and clamped around him like you were holding on for dear life; and he loved it. the deep strokes he was giving you were degrading and you were eating them all up.

“gonna’ cum on this dick? hm? gonna’ wet my shit up?” he expresses, watching the motion of your ass crash back on him.

so fucking pretty.

“y-yes! i’m gonna’ cum. aah— baby, i’m- oh my—fuck!”

once you finally came down, small sighs and whimpers could be heard coming from you. toji slowly slid out of you, your pussy making an airy, gape noise as you set him loose.

“can you give me another one?” he whispers against your ear, and you nod— letting him flip you onto your back. toji could now see your face; it’s in an exhausted state, eyes batting as you struggle to keep them open to return his gaze. you looked so pretty. honest truth, he didn’t think he’d last very long doing this position tonight.

“yes, i can give y-you one more. please, i wanna’ make you cum, toji.”

for the first time tonight, toji placed a chaste kiss on your lips. you didn’t exactly know what changed. he went from fucking you with no remorse as a punishment to being gentle and attentive to your quivering body.

“spread your legs angel.”

you obeyed, toji assisting you by propping your legs onto his shoulders. this way, he could hit it deeper, harder— if you asked. he tapped his cock onto your clit a few times, fomenting your already quivering thighs.

“look at me when i put it in,” he demands. your eyes quickly opened to peer up at your husband— you could now see the man you’ve missed so much; forehead sticky, a thin silver chain around his neck that you liked to hold between your teeth as he fucked you, and a set of tattoos that covered most of his chest— astonishing.

the feeling of toji’s dick sliding into you was something you’d always crave. his breaths were shaky and his grunts were loud.

“shit, pussy’s so fuckin’ wet just for me, huh? all for me.”

“daddy—fuck, you feel so good.”

he lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah? you like when i fuck you like this?” he inquires, thrusts becoming more fleeting as time went on. you held on tightly to his forearms that were planted beside you, clawing at the veins that ran up them.

“harder, toji.”

thankfully, he was one of the good ones who knew the dissimilarity between faster and harder; his dick ramming into you like a hammer on nails. and you took it so well, with your tits bouncing and your head thrown back, sucking in harsh breaths of air while crying out his name like a prayer.

“keep screamin’,” he grunts, lowering his body down to your neck, biting a licking at the skin in an attempt to leave a mark, “let em’ know who’s pussy this is.”

“it’s yours, toji. it’s only yours— i-i love you, please cum in me.”

toji’s hands moved from the side of you to your tear stained cheeks to caress them, holding your face in his hands as he rocked into you making your body jolt.

“i love you too, beautiful. you’re gonna’ make me cum n’ breed that pussy, you want that? hm?” he asks, more so as consent than opposed to dirty talk. you rapidly nod your head, wrapping your hands around his wrists while staring deeply into his drowsy eyes.

you lifted your head a little to plant kisses onto his scarred lip, noses touching and grazing against one another as your tongues battled for control. it was messy, it was steamy, and most importantly, it was love.

“ssss’ fuck— i’m cummin’ baby. aah, shit.”

he hissed his last few moans while still fucking you senseless, your third orgasm coming over you in a wave of pleasure; juices you hadn’t seen in a while spurting all over his stomach. although he’d already came, he continued to fuck into you until you were breathless and weak under his touch, shaking from the overwhelming force.

he soon pulled out of you completely, removing your legs from his shoulders and laying his enormous body on top of your smaller one. your foreheads were touching and you were all out of breath, basking in one another’s devotion. the two of you stayed that way for a while, toji hugging and kissing at the sweaty skin of your chest and stomach.

“toji,” you say barely above a whisper.

“are you alright, angel? did i hurt you?”

you smile at his concern, his bushy eyebrows furrowing, “no, i’m okay. you’re just the only man i know that would ever be jealous of an inanimate object,” you laugh.

“y’know, i can’t really be jealous. i haven’t exactly been as present as you’ve liked me to be and i apologize for that.”

you place a kiss on his lips while grinning at his sincerity. you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and after all, he was working to please and give you the life you deserved.

“if you really want me to stop using the toy i’ll get rid of it,” you suggest, only to have him shut you up with a smack on your thigh.

“nah, maybe i can use it on you sometime. have a competition to see who can make you cum first,” he jokes, earning a small giggle from you.

“you’re so annoying.”

“only for you, my love. only for you.”

#saaturnowrites #toji x y/n #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #toji x reader #jjk #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro

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bbunisre · 3 months

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11: MEGUMI'S (surprise) BIRTHDAY PARTY (0.3k)

“There’s something going on.” Megumi announces as soon as he enters your car on the day of his surprise party.

Megumi would debunk it was what you thought before picking him up. His household forgetting his birthday? Megumi would figure it out. You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”

“Tsumiki and Gojo are acting weird…you know about it.”

You laugh, hands on your steering wheel. In the corner of your eye, you spot Panda sneaking around the house to help decorate, a suspicious brown bag in his hand. You sigh, “Happy birthday, Megumi.”

He blinks at you, lashes fluttering as if he didn’t believe you ruined the surprise.

“Thank you.”

There was no point keeping it a secret when Megumi knows about it anyway. Gojo, Tsumiki and you have gone out of your way every year to make sure Megumi has a good birthday and feels appreciated every year. Although he’d prefer to keep things on the down low, it’s his birthday for God’s sake. He deserved to be celebrated.

You shake your head, “Don’t worry about it. Tsumiki’s throwing you a surprise party though. I know there’s no way to fooling you but please go along with this to make Tsumiki happy.”

“I will.” he nods, putting his seatbelt on, “Is this part of the plan?”

“Me taking you out for the day?”

“Yeah.”

“Basically. I hope you didn’t take it was weird of me to bring you out on your birthday.” you respond, “Especially after…”

Mentally, you curse yourself for not stopping yourself. Why did you have to keep bringing up something that was an accident?

Megumi visibly blushes, “N-No. Um…where are we going?”

You clear your throat, “We’re going to get lunch at that place you like. My treat, obviously.”

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machisoon · 3 months

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Dirty Rumors Of You?

Pairing: Wriothesley x GN!Reader

CW: None! Fluff And Angst! <3

Synopsis: After a Dirty Rumor Is Roaming In Fontaine About An Affair. The Duke Wakes Up Like Any Ordinary Day But Doesn't Expect The Shower Of Love, and Tears He Receives From His S/O about the rumor.

wolf boi (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Through your time in being Fontaine you'd never thought you ultimately found your love in such a nation. The man that was yours was none other than the Duke of The Fortress Of Meropide. A man who deals with criminals ends up being your boyfriend despite you and him having different personalities you still made the relationship work, and it's been going great. Sigewinne was also thrilled to see you anytime you came to visit Wriothesley's office.

But recently some gossip has been going around Fontaine now that your relationship is known. Filthy and Disclosed gossip if that. A rumor you have been sleeping with Monsieur Neuvillette more known as The Chief Of Justice. The rumor spread as a toxic friend you recently cut ties with was out for revenge apparently and started the rumor. The Chief Of Justice and Duke are unaware of this rumor existing and you've been trying to debunk the rumor before something bad happens. If this rumor was to get out it would affect Wriothesley's and Neuvillette's Trustworthy bond as a whole and just tarnish your relationship with Wriothesley over all.

Your best plan was to stick to his side to prove to some Fontanians who believed the rumor to see that you'd never play with the Duke's heart like that. But you knew that this rumor was gonna try to expand and you either had to tell him or let him find out.. and letting him find out definitely wouldn't be the best option.

You stretch your legs out as you feel them weakly graze against the satin sheets. Your eyes were puffy and your hair was a complete mess. The bed was empty so that was a clear indication that Wriothesley was most likely in the kitchen making tea or making breakfast. You slowly rise out of bed making your way to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth and fix your hair. Wriothesley seemed to hear your slow footsteps patter to the bathroom as he looks over to you. "Well looks who's awake.. I've made you some breakfast don't let it get cold." Wriothesley muttered placing a gentle but firm peck on your forehead. You loved his random tinges of affection but that rumor was still the only thing lingering in your head. Maybe it would be good to tell him this morning..

"Wriothesley.." You said rather quietly just enough so you can grab his attention. "Yes Y/N?" Wriothesley asked. You were hesitant.. You felt yourself sweating even though it wasn't even hot in the bathroom. You were probably sweating because how fast your heart was beating at the moment since all these possible outcomes can happen. "I- I love you.." You said quickly. You didn't have the courage to tell him. You were afraid it would hurt him.

Wriothesley smiled and a red hue grazed his cheeks ever so gently. His hand reached out to stroke your cheek. "I love you too Y/N, I think I make that point pretty clear." Wriothesley says with nothing but love with a slight giggle following. He grabs your hand and leads you to the kitchen so you can eat the breakfast he prepared.. maybe this can clear your mind.

The taste was mouth watering. Enticing bacon with a side of just perfectly cooked eggs. You never knew your boyfriend could cook but with this skill you're not complaining. Wriothesley seemed to admire you just gobbling his food right in front of his face, it gave him a confidence boost nonetheless. "I see you like it." Wriothesley smiles as he sees you licking your lips with a spotless plate in front of you. He grabbed your plate swiftly, cleaning it for you. Although he wasn't expecting the pair of hands to reach around his body and embrace him. He lets out a little surprised squeak as you were just hugging him from behind. "Wow, you're quite affectionate today?" Wriothesley teased as he finished cleaning the plate firmly drying his hands off. "I just felt like hugging you, is that such a problem?" You teased him right back as you seemed to not let go. "I notice you've actually been affectionate all week.. what's that about..?" Wriothesley tilts his head slightly.

Boom Boom, was the loudest noise you heard. Your heart was racing abnormally fast. The recent spurts of affection and protectiveness was because of the rumor. The one he doesn't know about. "I- It's not quite important.." You utter out. Wriothesley had a suspicious look. You guys haven't been together for that long and Wriothesley can read you like a book he can tell when you're sad, mad, lying. And he could tell there was nothing but lies slipping out those lips of yours. "Y/N.. we've talked about this. I'm your boyfriend there is no solid reason why you should be hiding your feelings." Wriothesley said with a form tone. He led you to the couch and sat you down and crossed his arms and had a stern scowl on his face. "We are not leaving this house until you tell me what's going on. And at this rate I won't care if I'm late." Wriothesley adds, his voice rock hard but also keeping a sense of authority. The voice he spoke to the criminals with. You felt everything in your body rattle like an earthquake, your words just turning into a shake. "I- t-there is a uh.. Rumor.." You said with a shaky tone on the verge of tears. Wriothesley perks up.. a rumor? About his beloved. He got a more angered look but not at you it seemed more targeted to whoever started the rumor. And he had some ideas. "What's this rumor about Y/N?" Wriothesley finally says. Wriothesley was pondering so hard to even notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"There's a rumor that someone started saying I'm having an affair with Neuvillette!" You utter out quickly taking everything not to wail tears loudly.

Wriothesley's ears dart directly into your eyes like an intense staring contest, his eyes practically staring into your future. "What." Wriothesley spoke with such an angered tone. Was he mad at you..?

Panic rushed through his body as you burst out in screams as tears poured a river down your face ruining your eyelashes and making your eyes red. Wriothesley quickly grasped your waist putting you onto his chest gently. "I'm sorry! I'm not having any affairs I promise! I love you! I love you! Please don't leave me!" You screamed out in between your desperate tears. Wriothesley immediately covers your mouth.

"Why on earth would you think I'd believe a rumor like that!?" Wriothesley said in bewilderment. Like cmon.. the Duke deals with lies all the time and he'd think the most innocent person he knows and loves would ever try to sleep with The Chief Of Justice.. He'd deem himself as crazy! Your tears abruptly stop in pure confusion. "W-what..?" You say quietly. Wriothesley chuckles loudly. Kissing your lips unexpectedly looking straight into your eyes. "First of all.. Neuvillette would never be the type of guy to sleep with an already taken person. Second of all, You'd never be that type of person either in my eyes. Now who started this dumb rumor? I'm gonna have a word with them." Wriothesley said confidently as he seemed determined to have a "talk" with the person who started such a dirty rumor about you. "I- my old friend that was toxic." You said. Wriothesley nodded with affirmation as he pecked at your forehead. He grabbed you wiping away any tears that clung to your face as he attacks your face with kisses drowning in the little giggles you responded with.

"I love you Y/N, promise me you'll always tell me if you're feeling down or someone tries to poke fun at you?" Wriothesley says as he makes your head turn towards him with his caring tone feeling like music to your ears.

"I promise.." You whisper as you feel completed to be with the one who makes you the happiest.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #fluff #angst #wrio x reader #y/n #writers on tumblr #(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) machi

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sunshine-jesse · 4 months

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Ashley Literally Did Nothing Wrong, Fuck You, Fight Me

Alt title: Ashley Graves: The most convenient scapegoat in the world

I'm going to espouse a take here that will no doubt be controversial, as you can tell by the title. This is a take I've created from my hollistic understanding of the events of the game, and isn't dependent on any one single point I make in this essay. Because of that, I want you to read it with an open mind; if you hyperfocus on one or two smaller details I might've gotten wrong or are fallaciously interpretated, and either use that to discount the whole essay or go into the comment section and immediately try to debunk my interpretation of that event, that'll make it obvious to me that you're not trying to seriously engage with the core of what I'm trying to say. Because unless quite literally everything I've said here is wrong, I feel confident in saying this:

Ashley Graves did nothing wrong.

Moreover, I think Ashley is on the level of people like Rossiu, Shinji Ikari, and Skylar White as far as people who are mistreated by their fandoms goes.

At first this was going to be an essay about how I don't think the demons are evil, using textual and thematic evidence to show that they're just part of a system that deals mostly fairly with humans and doesn't have any nefarious plans, or at least nefarious plans that stand to fuck anyone over. But then I realized that, goodness gracious, that is boring as shit to write! But I looked at what I had written already and realized that I could write something else with it: something better. I could sum up a lot of the points made in my prior essays and elaborate upon them in much more detail, showing why I think certain themes are obviously present within this game. And here, I intend on doing that.

I've spoken a lot before about how Ashley is a scapegoat for all of Andrew's worst habits; and to a lesser extent, her mother's. The game makes it seemingly obvious that she's the bad one, and generally just a Very Not Good person. It shows her and her brother committing many different acts that are, under most moral systems, wrong, and implicitly implies that she's the reason that Andrew ever did those things. It implies that she's corrupting him, that he could be better and refuses- or is unable to- due to her poking and prodding. But… is that the truth? Is that how their relationship actually works, in practice? I don't believe so. I think I've made it obvious by now that I believe the exact opposite!

I'm going to start off by tackling the morality behind their actions, especially relative to the world they're in. Specifically, I'm going to tackle how the game presents the morality of their actions from a thematic point of view, and any statements it may or may not make.

First of all, TCOAL plays with a lot of different taboos- demon summoning, cannibalism, incest, murder- but the game goes through great lengths to muddy the moral weight of the siblings' actions. Every single action they commit is portrayed in the most neutral possible light- killings were done in self defense (with one notable exception), or done to people who greatly wronged them, cannibalism was a necessity to survive (also with one notable exception), incest is shown to come from a marked improvement in their relationship- leading me to believe that this game is taking a hard morally nihilistic stance. Else, they'd be shown to suffer for their actions, when in reality, the literal exact opposite is happening; they are being rewarded for it. This isn't necessarily glorifying the actions, but instead showing that even the worst of actions can potentially be excused, but whether or not you do is up to the reader. Hence, nihilism, or at the very least, skepticism (as noted by Lisafication). There's an existentialist reading of this too, but I think much of that is contingent on the events of chapter 3 so I won't get into that here.

It contrasts this mostly nihilistic perspective on interpersonal taboos with the deep societal ills that drive people to commit such actions. Evil exists at every level of analysis here, but curiously, the only thing that are shown to do direct harm to others without having a justification of some kind- be it self-defense or retaliation- are those societal ills. There is no (morally) good reason to quarantine people, starve them, and harvest their organs. There's no good reason to burn all evidence and then put a hit on the ones who did escape. There's no good reason to extort sexual favors from someone in exchange for food. These are deep structural problems that force people to either retaliate/lash out or enable people's most exploitative or abusive habits lest they just let themselves die.

And thus, the obvious evils become much less obvious. The game makes a point of subverting the obvious or the well-known when it comes to morals, and I think it does so when it comes to everything else, too. Outside of those societal ills (so far, ch3 might have something else to say), every situation where someone could obviously be shown as the bad person in a situation is immensely more complex than it first appears. So much so that I'd argue that displaying said complexity and subverting simplicity to force/encourage people to analyze things deeper is one of the central themes of the game.

So why, exactly, does he blame so much on her? It's because Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat, and the game is well-aware of this and displays it in ways both obvious and not.

First off: the title screen has Ashley wielding the cleaver, establishing that she’s the violent one. It's covered in blood, too, implying that she's the one more driven to kill. The reality of this is the opposite; Andrew is the one with less hesitation to inflict violence on others, the cleaver is his weapon, and most of the kills in the story are done by him (and fully justified). Ashley might push him to do these violent acts, but… does she?

Her reaction to the death of the first warden is one of utter shock.

And her expression afterwards?

This is not the look of someone who enjoyed the fact that someone killed for her sake. This is not the look of someone who finds joy to be had in violence. It's not even the look of someone who is apathetic towards violence. It almost seems to express shame or guilt, but at the very least, she's timid over it. At the very least, it's an "oh shit, he actually had to do that for my sake" face. Not a "haha, I am making him worse!" face.

Not to mention, not only does Andrew kill the first Warden without a care in the world, he proactively kills the 302 lady to eliminate all witnesses, and because he believes Ashley would want him to. But Ashley actually grills him for it; she didn't want the 302 lady to die, although she hardly had good-person-reasons for it. But that's not my point. The point is that she is not the violent one between the two of them.

The door doesn't open in response to violence, remember?

The game intentionally misleads us.

And what happens when Ashley tries to make him take responsibility for all this violence? To point out that she didn't force him to do anything and that he chose to do all of it, including lock Nina in the box? She lashes out, hits him a few times… and then he goes to strangle her, and doesn't let go until she acknowledges that he has no reason for her to be around. He literally doesn't cease his threat to her life until she acknowledges she's useless to him.

I acknowledge that this isn't the most charitable framing for Andrew, and maybe too charitable for Ashley. After all, she wasn't indignant. She was mocking him. She found it hilarious. But I have reasons for that charitability that I'll go over towards the end. But even with that charitability in mind, I don't think my reading is too off base. Defaulting to laughter or mocking in stressful situations is just what Ashley does. She's not indignant about it; she just finds it hilarious that people keep pretending to be better than her, when they're not.

Andrew killed the 302 lady and used Ashley as a scapegoat to justify it; this is indisputable, stated in the text during the dream. This alone validates Ashley's point of view. There is no interpretation of this event that doesn't paint Andrew as every bit as unscrupulous as Ashley, and thinking she corrupted him into this- when it was both one of the first actions he did on his own in the story and something he explicitly uses Ashley as a scapegoat for- is just ridiculous. It's frankly unreasonable. She has every right to be sick of being used as a scapegoat. And at the very least, whether or not you accept the idea that Andrew only let Ashley go once she acknowledged that she's useless to him, he's still so taken aback by his misinterpretation of Ashley's desires that HE goes to strangle HER.

This is NOT Andrew triumphantly standing up to his abuser. This is both of their masks slipping; Andrew revealing how violent and insistent on keeping up his internal narrative that he is, and Ashley revealing that she's getting tired of being blamed for everything.

And then, when he finally lets her go… she hugs him, and acknowledges that she's happy that Nina is gone, which makes little sense at the face of it. Why would that be her first response to being let go, when it was ostensibly what made Andrew so upset to begin with?

I think, to her, it's a conciliatory gesture. As chapter 2 showed us, she's more than willing to take responsibility for violence to relieve Andrew of stress over it, as evidenced by her finishing off their parents. This is an earlier instance of that; by acknowledging she was happy that Nina was dead, she took responsibility for it. She willingly framed herself as a bad person here, so Andrew wouldn't have to be.

She let herself be the scapegoat, because it's all she ever knew. She put the mask back on.

This alone is enough to challenge the idea that Ashley 'corrupts' Andrew in any meaningful way. How, exactly, can you define it as corrupt when society itself is twisted enough to force these actions to survive? In a more sane world, a lot of their actions would've been bad, sure, but they're also actions that the siblings probably wouldn't have done in a more sane world. Ashley's actions aren't making Andrew worse, they're helping to ensure their survival. You could say that this is still corruptive in its own way, but at that point it seems like your reasoning is motivated by having already had that narrative rather than making a good-faith reading of their dynamic.

At no point did she actually make him worse; he was already like that and just used her as an excuse.

Next up is the Nina situation. This one is obviously cut and dry- Ashley manipulates Andrew into killing Nina because she wants no competition between the two of them. It's not Andrew's fault and Ashley was an evil abuser from the jump. Obvious, right?

No. It's really not.

It's pretty strongly implied that Ashley was mistreated by people her whole life. The Lemon Cupcake scene shows this in more detail, about how people always neglect or ignore her birthdays, but she also says that nobody likes her because she's weird and loud in the Nina flashback too. But unless something big happened in between the two flashbacks, none of this behavior indicates particularly maladaptive or even strange tendencies on Ashley's part. She's a needy, bratty child, and the closest thing to a friend she has- Nina- wants to take away the one thing from her that's a source of comfort and emotional validation.

It's not entirely rational, sure! But it also -makes perfect sense-. NOBODY treated her well throughout her entire life; it's strongly implied that Nina never did either, given Nina's reaction to Ashley being there and the lower left-hand painting past the Questionable door showing her being distant from the two of them. We can also see a star bouncing off of her head, and stars represent closeness in this game, so it shows there was an attempt made somewhere along the line, it's just not clear as to who made the attempt.

At the very least, Nina's reaction of disappointment fed into Ashley's preconceived notions of how people treat her, and how she deserves to be treated. Although, from what has been directly stated, rather than implied, Nina was nothing more than an innocent victim in this scenario; I don't mean to take that away from her.

"But she didn't care when Nina died?"

So? If Nina treated her like trash for most of her life, why should she care? She didn't expect Nina to die. It was just an acceptable consequence. You can say "That's not how normal kids act!" all you want, but there's a level of spite and apathy that comes with intense bullying and emotional neglect that I don't think you really understand unless you've been there to the extent someone like Ashley has implied to be.

Andrew, meanwhile, was the one who told Ashley that they had to lock Nina in the box to keep them in there. He's the one who looked for and found the stick to keep them locked in. You could say he was coerced by an abusive person into hurting someone, sure, but you'd be wrong. Cataclysmically wrong, even. Like, if you actually think that a seven year old girl (nobody wears overalls past the age of seven) can have anything approximating an abusive dynamic with her as the perpetrator with someone both older and stronger than her, you frankly have some issues with women you need to work out. That's simply not how abuse dynamics work at that age.

Andrew wasn't entirely responsible for it either, mind- he was just a kid who should never have been saddled with this kind of responsibility. But that's not my point; the point is that it enables other people, Andrew included, to use her as a scapegoat to avoid his own responsibility. All this scene does is retroactively justify any preconceptions you might've had about them from seeing their adult selves first. But the moment you start digging, it becomes much less obvious who's really culpable here. Andrew was, as evidenced by the blood oath scene, fully aware that he held the advantage over her in strength, and managed to give up nothing when making the oath while he made Ashley swear to silence. He was fully aware that he could've chosen to do better, but he refused, and instead opted to reinforce Ashley's insecurities for the sake of exerting control over her.

I've said before that the 302 lady was murdered without any input from Ashley, but this is also relevant on a meta-level because it's done without any input from the player, either. Both of the murders in chapter 1 were like that, whereas all that we, the player can choose to do in that chapter is either solve puzzles, or hilariously, die. The only person with control here is Andrew, the character, and this is reinforced by the fact that we have no control over him for much of the Nina flashback, too. He locks her in the box regardless of our input, even though Ashley spends a lot of time trying to convince him. The main difference between the Nina flashback and the scenes in the apartment is that Ashley had absolutely no idea that any of that was going to happen in the present, whereas it's something she wanted with Nina- which isn't that big of a difference when discussing how much agency she really has.

As much as the game frames Ashley as a manipulator- and much of the fanbase uncritically accepts- she is given shockingly little in-game control over many of the actions committed. Even in the case of the Hitman- as a good friend of mine pointed out- the only choice the player is given is whether or not to check the closet and be killed; an impulsive decision leading to a swift and unceremonious end. In the end, Andrew is the one given the choice to kill the hitman, and we can consciously choose whether or not his reaction is panicked or measured. No such choice is given to Ashley, as most of her reactions are impulsive and spontaneous rather than planned. This is not the makings of a standard "manipulative evil bitch" trope. She's pretty consistently portrayed as someone with poor impulse and emotional control who loudly and aggressively states her intent in every single scenario she's in.

And you can still call what she says and does manipulative despite that, sure, but at what point are you just pathologizing relatively normal (if extreme and highly emotional) social interactions for the sake of fitting into a narrative you already held?

We see Ashley's status as a scapegoat for people to use to pretend to be normal reach its most blatant with the parents. This time it's pretty cut and dry to anyone that doesn't already have it in their mind that Ashley is evil and unforgivable. Mrs. Graves explicitly brings up the possibility of a normal life without Ashley to Andrew in the basement, and claims that Ashley was at fault for shutting her out. She would've been a normal parent otherwise, right? Well, no; the game wastes no time in showing that this wasn't the case in the Burial ending.

From when Ashley was a baby, Mrs. Graves was already tired of her shit, and too emotionally exhausted to be a parent. Despite her attempts at blaming Ashley, she would've never been a normal parent unless Ashley was a golden child in the same way that Andrew was. And yet Ashley didn't even deny shutting her mom out. She didn't deny the chance to be used as a scapegoat; it was all she ever knew. The fact that Mrs. Graves had the audacity to claim that she was a saint when she was never prepared to be a parent for a child who didn't make it easy, and when she was willing to sell out her children and let them die for a life insurance payment is absolutely astounding.

This alone should've been enough to recontextualize everything we supposedly know about how responsible Ashley really is in all of this, but bad parents have a knack for being great at manipulating both family members and everyone viewing from the outside, including the people playing the game.

And almost including Andrew.

Andrew almost accepting the mom's offer is the single most tragic moment in the game, by far.

Dandy said it best in his video essay: By Ashley leaving Andrew alone with their parents, she showed that she is capable of changing. That she is capable of getting better. She showed that she loves and respects Andrew enough to be able to put aside her usual role as the scapegoat and allow him to make the decision that was for the best for both of them. And make no mistake, it was for the best; if the mom really DID sell out the siblings, and given the two of them were already on the run for supposedly being dead, there was no hope of any of this ever working out. They saw through the conspiracy and knew the truth of how the quarantine operations really worked. They were an active threat to one of the most powerful entities seen in the setting so far, to the point where they had a hitman sent after them.

Mrs. Graves had every reason to sell them out again, for their presence in a public setting was more than enough to put everyone in their family in danger. Mrs. Graves had every reason to believe that the normalcy she wanted was nothing that could ever be grasped again so long as her children were alive, and as such, it was clear that she had nothing to offer either Andrew or Ashley. Ashley trusted Andrew to see through their obvious manipulations and lies, and understand that the parents had nothing left to give them. She trusted him to love her more than the false promises their parents could give.

…And yet. In spite of it all.

In spite of her love, in spite of clearly displaying that she can grow up and become a person that causes him less stress, and in spite of Ashley showing that all she wants now is their safety and security…

Andrew can still choose to consider Ashley the problem. He can still choose to use her as the scapegoat he always has.

He can still choose to see her as the one thing that caused him to be this way, that stands in between him and normalcy, when she, not once, forced him to do anything.

Were he to accept Mrs. Graves' offer, this would've been the single most tragic moment in the game. It almost was, and still stands to be, because he ignores every indication that things could be better for the sake of his own narrative, and a narrative echoed by much of the fandom.

But no matter what ending was picked, things could be better. They could've been better all along. Compared to chapter 1, their dynamic in chapter 2 is already much healthier. Their banter is less venomous, and while they still poke and prod each other in ways that aren't exactly great, they don't get into the same violent fights we saw in the 302 room. By all accounts, what happened in that room was an outlier. Even when they find themselves in their parents' house, where they stand to do the One Thing That Means They Would Never Be Normal Again, Ever (ignoring the fact that this is already a lost cause by then), Ashley doesn't get into any fights with Andrew in the same way she did back in the apartment. All she wants is affirmation and security. She doesn't even lay into her mom like she lays into Julia over the phone, even in their private conversations.

We’re led to believe that she’s still getting worse because the actions she’s taking are more extreme, but her attitudes and behaviors are much, much different. The actual actions they're taking are so obviously the right thing to do (both morally and practically) that I don't think it's until they eat their parents that you should make a double take and go "Wow, maybe these goblins actually are kinda fucked up," because until then, well… everything is justified! Perfectly so! Even then, eating their parents serves a purpose, even if not a mentally healthy one.

Maybe she’s calmer because she’s in control over the situation, but if the calls she made to Julia are any indication (independent of the theory that she didn’t actually say those things), were she unchanged as a person, she still would’ve lashed out at their mother over how much more useful she is to Andrew than their parents were, or something of that nature. Something about how nothing their mom offers could compete with what Ashley gives. But she makes no such claims. She feels no need to prove anything to her parents, or to reaffirm her place in Andrew’s life even in the face of her mother challenging it (or at least implying such a challenge). Regardless of her insecurities, she’s changed. It’s hard to see, but she has.

And then Andrew can ignore that and consider betraying her because he refuses to believe that she's willing to make their dynamic work, when she shows many different indications of being willing to concede as long as Andrew stops giving her mixed signals.

A friend of mine put it best, and I'm pretty much quoting her word for word here, because of how strongly I agree with it. When I look at Ashley, I find very few actual "flaws." I see familiar wounds.

The Burial ending, despite being triumphant and not nearly as "dark" as some people think, is still very, very sad. A lot of abusive dynamics are characterized by someone having to fight every step of the way to get what they need from the other person, usually some kind of emotional validation or relief. This is what happens between Andrew and Ashley for most of the game: Ashley wants Andrew to treat their relationship as special, to acknowledge there's something to it beyond just him going through the motions. And yet for most of the game, he refuses to, especially in chapter 1. And then, in Burial, when he does…

She's confused.

A lot of people view this as her being afraid of losing control over Andrew, since her "Andy," who she can push around, is gone. Andrew has changed, and the same tricks wouldn't work. But that's not what that is; it's not about control, it's about her finally getting what she wants from him without having to fight. She still thinks about using sex as leverage to keep him around, but that's because she's never understood what it's like to have someone actually want to be around her. And I speak from experience; when you no longer have to fight for every little bit of emotional validation or relief, when you no longer have to keep checking your messages to keep an argument going so you can finally be proven right, when you no longer have to force yourself to let go, to stop engaging, the reaction isn't happiness. It's not relief.

It's confusion. It's discontent.

Because something you've tied so much of yourself up in to is no longer there, despite it being more peaceful, it still feels wrong. The dynamic still has to be this way in your mind, because you've never known anything else. You latch on to whatever you can in order to justify that, and your actions are still heavily biased in favor of maintaining your place in that nonexistent dynamic. This isn't manipulation; it's trauma. And the fact that Ashley almost immediately understands that Andrew is changing is nothing short of a miracle. By consolidating past and present Andrew into a single person rather than splitting them into two, she showing that she can actually heal from that trauma. And all Andrew had to do to enable this is to acknowledge that she CAN change, that things CAN be better, and that everyone who claims to be better than her is full of shit.

I've analyzed the events of the story in a way that may seem needlessly antagonistic to some characters, and overly charitable to others. But I have to ask you, that if you disagree with anything I've said:

Where does that disagreement come from? What about my narrative clashes with your own? -Why- does it clash? Is it because the game presents your interpretation as obvious, whereas mine is not? Is it because you've experienced someone like Ashley before in your life, and you know it when you see it? Maybe you strongly identify with Andrew, and view his status as a doormat with no agency to be obvious? Or did you just accept the narrative that much of the fanbase has taken at face value, without further analysis other than building on top of it?

I don't believe these things to be contrarian; I've held most of these opinions since my first or second playthrough. I don't believe what I do because you don't, I believe what I do because I understand what Ashley has been through. I've experienced a lot of the specific traumas she had, such as deep feelings of isolation and being deprived of the emotional validation I need from the people who need to give it. I know what it's like to be misunderstood, to have who and what I am taken for granted, and to be terrified of being abandoned by the people I need the most. I see what I do because I understand.

And I want to give her that understanding that nobody gave me.

Maybe you should think about it. Why do you take it for granted that Andrew is a doormat who is strung along by Ashley? Why do you find it so odd when the trope of a woman corrupting a good man through leveraging sex is drawn into question? Why is Ashley seen as crazy, when all of her actions are so straightforward and rational? How is she corrupting him, when the single most needlessly violent act in the whole story- outside of the Nina flashback- is done without her influence? Why is Ashley seen as the abusive one when Andrew both threatens and resorts to physical violence and witholds emotional validation?

Weirdly personal tangent aside, Ashley and Andrew are two of the most well-written characters I have ever seen. They're not written like archetypes who interact with each other through a series of tropes; they're written like real people who's words and actions have astoundingly human motivations. They come from places that we can understand and relate to.

And just like people, they deserve respect. In spite of all they've done, they deserve love.

But make no mistake, Ashley is not the one stopping that love from happening. She just has the audacity to still want it in spite of everything telling her that she doesn't deserve it. We're led to believe she wants too much, but all she ever wanted was the bare minimum that she was never given.

And she has every right to be mad about it.

#andrew graves #ashley graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #tcoaal essay #gaming

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someidiotwithalaptop · 7 months

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So... about the "Ironwood Was Right" thing.

I recently saw this resurface a bit, in the context of Ruby's regrets in Volume 9. Basically, taking the fact that she felt like she'd failed as the show saying that yes, actually, she was wrong to go against Ironwood's plan in Volume 7.

I feel like I went into thinking about this trying to debunk it on a logical level. Like, is it actually a good idea to fly off into the sky in one big long stalling measure when your opponent is literally immortal? What's stopping Salem from grabbing all the rest of the relics and then just waiting as many generations as it takes, until the people of Atlas forget why they came up there in the first place and return to Remnant out of curiosity?

The thing is, treating it as an argument about what's the more "rational" choice is missing the point that like. We're talking about a story. We don't know exactly how many people are in Atlas and in Mantle and where they are and how many more trips they'd have to take to finish the evacuation, because details like that would just bog things down.

This is not a trolley problem with x number of people from Mantle on one side and y number of people from Atlas on the other. This is a trolley problem with a wealthy and powerful person on one track, and a disadvantaged person an alternate track, and Ironwood choosing to pull the lever instead of trying to stop the trolley. The point is not "how many." It's not about math. The point is that there is a fundamental difference between dying in the central location while a bunch of Huntresses and Huntsmen do absolutely everything in their power to protect you, and dying abandoned in the mines you used to work while the city built off of your labor flies away to safety.

The question this conflict is asking is about whether or not other people can be sacrifices. Ironwood says yes—team RWBY disagree. That's the actual crux of this argument. Does Ironwood have the right to decide who deserves protection and who isn't worth the risk? Do we get to give up on other people before we've even tried to save them? It's about the idea of certain people being disposable. Mantle's wall isn't important, Amity is. Amity will protect all of Atlas, and that wall will only help the people in Mantle. It implies that their safety is an acceptable sacrifice for the greater good. It treats them as disposable.

There's a reason it was Nora who spoke up and pointed out that it's always Mantle being asked to bear the burden for the greater good. Nora has been a disposable person before. Hell, Cinder has been a disposable person! The way Atlas (through the madame) treated a living person as a resource to be exploited or sacrificed is the entire reason that Cinder is trying to burn the kingdom down. Thematically, Atlas cannot escape the danger she poses by sacrificing more disposable people.

One of the biggest themes of this show is cooperation. It's all about how Salem can only be defeated by working together. But working together is not possible if certain people are taking on all of the risk, all of the sacrifice. Everyone has to be willing to put some skin in the game. Like, imagine trying to do a group project if you knew half of you were guaranteed to get an A no matter what and the other half weren't.

So the idea that Volume 9 is supposed to come back around and say that actually, that plan that would have literally divided a city in half and cut loose the poorer half like fucking ballast, that was the right thing all along and Ruby Rose was wrong to challenge it... that would be an absolute disaster of a thematic statement.

This is not a show about hard military men making hard military choices. It's not going to contrive a situation where cold-blooded calculation determines that the right thing to do is to pull up the ladder. Because outside of weird philosophical experiments about trolleys, the right thing to do usually has more to do with empathy. Compassion. Cooperation. All that gay shit.

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #james ironwood #long post #this is kinda spicy and i may regret this but tally ho #utilitarianism makes a good scalpel #in messy situations where the right choice is unclear #but it's also very good at making excuses #“it's ok if I do x bad thing as long as it balances out”

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leportraitducadavre · 1 year

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“Sarada is the first Uchiha that awoke her MS out of a sense of pure love, unlike the rest of them that were rooted in hatred –she’s the first one to break the “Hatred Cycle” of the clan.”

*sighs* Listen, there’s nothing I’d like more than to leave Boruto and all of its byproducts behind for good, yet over and over again the rabid anti-Sasuke fandom comes back to trash on the original characters of the show for the sole purpose of chanting “old Uchiha bad, new Uchiha good” around a barely lit pit fire.

Allow me to quickly break this notion, as it doesn’t need much more inspection than a faint passing of our eyes through the original series to debunk it.

After hearing Naruto is sealed away alongside Hinata and everyone blames Boruto, Sarada starts crying and, in desperation, asks her dad to “help Boruto”, awakening her Mangekyou Sharingan.

[Contrary to what I initially believed as I thought she might be asking for help as she couldn’t move, she’s not injured, she appears to be (at most) in shock due to everything that Boruto has to face, so, in case you’re one of those Naruto fans that are used to have pretty plot-relevant, emotional moments after the initial awakening of an Uchiha’s MS, let me tell you: That’s not happening, at all.]

Regardless of the minuscule and for real, for real, not sarcastic at all, very-well thought and constructed attempt to empower a character whose relevance to the main plot lies in the fact that she is the only daughter of Boruto's mentor, many stans of the child saw this opportunity to trash on Sasuke’s power as an Uchiha (you know, the reincarnation of Indra itself), and to justify such an awakening of one of the most powerful forms of the Sharingan under the premise that “it’s a different type of awakening because it’s linked to love, not hatred.”

So, in order to fact-check such affirmation, let’s see how other characters achieved the Mangekyou:

Sasuke:

Sasuke awakes his MS originally from learning the truth behind his family’s genocide; before this (and I mean, chapters before this, as his MS is dedicated a total of three chapters) Obito explained that the Uchiha were planning a coup and that Itachi, to protect Konoha and his brother, committed the annihilation of his entire kin following the government’s orders. We see him crying before a new resolution is reached: destroy Konoha. His MS awakes due to his pain which turns to complete anger.

However, you wouldn’t believe how Sasuke has conscious access to both Mangekyou:

That’s right folks, he has conscious access over his right MS by thinking of those he wants to protect, Team Taka and Team 7. So this “hatred” cycle that powers up his Sharingan is fuelled by one thing and one thing only: love.

Furthermore,

Sasuke got conscious access over his left MS technique when trying to save Karin, as she’s a very dear comrade of his. Something similar happened when he awakened his Sharingan versus when he got conscious access to it when trying to save Naruto.

[Sasuke awoke the Sharingan when he was eight years old, so the idea that “haha, Sarada awoke her MS when she was younger than him so she’s better!” is stupid as he awoke it when he was at least four years younger when facing the genocide of his people, unlike her that got it from daddy issues. In fact, awakening MS or the Sharingan before or after has nothing to do with the person's capacity as a ninja as it solely depends on the traumatic events that said person experiences. It's safer to say that her emotional threshold is significantly lower than her father's given the "peaceful" times in which she grew up than to claim a "superiority" based upon the age they both experienced traumatically enough events to influence their chakra and develop or evolve their doujutsu.]

Obito:

Obito, somewhat similar to Sasuke (and this is due to their feelings, as they’re heartbroken and such pain triggers their raw hate), awakes his MS when he sees the girl he loves get killed by the boy he started to consider a friend when he was twelve/thirteen years old. His feelings are so strongly connected to his Sharingan that they also evolve the doujutsu that Kakashi possesses.

However, there’s a striking difference between how Obito awakened his Sharingan (basic form) and how Sasuke or even Sarada did as he achieved such power when trying to save his comrades.

[Sasuke awoke the Sharingan due to the pain he felt when seeing his parents get killed by his brother, which turned into hatred when Itachi "explained" his reasons. Meanwhile, Sarada got her Sharingans due to the pain she felt when her father didn't recognize her, which turned into fear when he threatened to kill her.]

Obito’s Sharingan was completely awakened by a sense of protectiveness over those dear to him, in other words, love.

Every single Sharingan or evolution of the same doujutsu is driven by the same emotion. From there, it either derivates to different states (pain, hate, grief, and so on), or it doesn’t, but no Uchiha can access either form without feeling a strong positive connection with someone or something they are trying to protect.

P.S: Unrelated, but look how pretty Kishimoto's art is compared to Ikemoto's (who also sexualizes minors constantly, as this is the cover of the newest volume), Sasuke looks so ugly and Sarada's MS is the most awful thing I've ever seen. No wonder the manga is flopping. Yikes.

Edit to add: It’s devastatingly hilarious how the whole point of Sarada’s Mangekyou wasn’t even about her; nor her power, nor the relevance of her bonds, it was about making a powerful enough moment for Sasuke to believe her and help Boruto! Everything becomes, yet again, about Sasuke.

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lotus222 · 9 months

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Okay.

I only meant to make one SJM post cause Ik how certain girls like to tussle

But since the gwynriels and elucians decided to mess w me EVEN THO I SAID TO LOOK AWAY IF YOU GET EASILY TRIGGERED…

There is only one thing to do:

Talk more about why Elriel is not based in delusion — unlike some ships (not naming names, if you take offense that’s your mind questioning things)

Again, I am giving my PERSONAL OPINION. I even said at the end of my last post that I am not the author and I will love & respect whatever SJM does, which some of y’all can’t echo. That’s sad. This is a fictional world.

DISCLAIMER: if you’re easily triggered by elriel/elucian/gwynriel…l o o k a w a y

DISCLAIMER#2: I am unapologetic cause this is my page :)

Also, stop hitting my line with the “I wasn’t going to respond to this but…” or “you’re so anti…” like 1, if you weren’t going to respond, then don’t. It’s not that serious where the world is BEGGING for your opinion. And 2, I’m not anti anything, I’m pro-logic, again if that offends you then that’s a convo for you and you not you and me.

Now onto the main event…

Azriel

My mans is being dragged through the mud both in the books and online. We say we “love him” but are ignoring what he wants and babes, that’s Elain. If you don’t like her personally, that’s not how Az is feeling, that’s how YOURE feeling. Gwyn has one chapter (+1 sentence) of where I can even attempt to grasp at what Gwynriel’s quote as bible, but again, AZ AND ELAIN HAVE 3 BOOKS. Y’all are acting like Rhys in Az’s bonus chapter and if Rhys couldn’t make his stance acceptable, y’all definitely can’t.

Elain

Again, I say, if you do not like the lady pictured above, stop reading ACOTAR cause she ain’t going anywhere. To be so for real, I didn’t mind Elain at first, meaning I didn’t care whether or not she was included in any story whatsoever. But as I read ACOWAR and ACOFAS, I started realizing that there’s something so lovely about having a character who is innately good and wants/practices peace in a world of animosity and ugliness. She brings beauty in all areas of her life and I think that there’s nothing bad about being “boring” cause that just means your life ain’t a dang mess (*cough* *cough* everybody else in this book)

So here is where I debunk all the claims I have grown tired of ignoring:

• #1 - “He hadn’t gotten that far into his planning beyond the fantasies he’s pleasured himself to.”

(Picture credit: unknown) Get a good look cause that’s what he’s doing at night when he thinks about ELAIN. (It’s canon, so cry to yourself)

So, y’all really think you got us here, huh? So, my man Azriel blatantly admits to thinking of Elain when he wants to be intimate and y’all STILL want your girl to be with this man?

Ugh

Anyway, so Azriel hadn’t planned a relationship with Elain…OKAY???? Did you expect this man to have a map laid out about how he’s going to steal Lucien’s mate??? Do y’all even know Azriel? Like, be so for real rn.

Idk about y’all but when I have a crush on someone, I’m not thinking about how to steal them from the rest of the world, I’m imagining kissing them or going on cute dates. Not how I’ll actually make it happen. And ik y’all do that too with your favorite celebrities so stop playing.

He has a crush. Can you let the man figure out if Elain even wants him to act on it before he plans a 12-step mission on making Lucien disappear forever?

Azriel doesn’t want to force his emotions on anyone (as seen with Mor) so of course he’s not going to act or plot without confirmation that the other person in the party wants that. I.E. why he hadnt tried anything with Mor in all the CENTURIES that he liked her.

So, yeah, consider that point invalid.

• #2 - Lucien is Elain’s mate

(PC: @shauna_the_author) *sigh* This one cannot be dubunked, unfortunately, because it is true. You got me here.

BUT

Elain is more likely to marry Nuala and Cerridwen before she spends the rest of her life with Lucien.

And it has nothing to do with Lucien. It really, really doesn’t. Elain simply doesn’t like him. Y’all were in my comments like “oh he didn’t really sell out Elain and Nesta, he didn’t know”. OKAY. But Elain literally says in ACOWAR that she knows Lucien as two things: Feyre’s friend and the MAN WHO SOLD THEM OUT TO HYBERN

Who cares if it isn’t true, that’s what Elain thinks and with her in mind, you can’t say that this bond means anything more to her than Lucien having some ownership of her which she doesn’t like at all. She even tells Graysen that she doesn’t care Lucien is her mate (“I belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.”)

Whereas with Azriel, my girl is practically skipping into his arms; talking with him about her dream garden, getting him not one but two solstice gifts, almost-kissing him, recoiling at Cassian’s dagger but actively using Azriel’s…

Idk about y’all but if someone who was fated to be with me was acting this way with another girl, I’d drop him like a hot potatoe. AND AS LUCIEN SHOULD. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who, as even Lucien said in ACOWAR when he was questioning if Elain was “worth it”, is shackled to him.

I harbor no ill will toward this dreamy man, but it ain’t gonna happen so do Elain a favor and lose her number, k?

• #3 - Sarah wouldn’t do the 3 brothers with 3 sisters, it’s too cliche

Write your own book then. Fan fiction is a thing. If the ONLY thing preventing you to see reason is the possibility of a cliche in a book about kingdoms and fairies and magic then your priorities are so out of shape I won’t even spend the time explaining it to you.

This is SARAH’s WORLD. If she wants to be cliche and have the three female protagonists end up with the three male protagonists then let her. Omg.

• #4 - That Gwynriel scene tho

(NOTE THE PICTURE) Oh, you mean the bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? Not that one? Oh, then maybe you mean the other bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? No? You mean the scene with Gwyn…hmmm

OH! You mean the 2 page conversation about training and why he couldn’t sleep (cause of Elain) and the subsequent regift of Elain’s present to Gwyn. Yeah, I know about that but why are we talking about it? Cause that means Az likes Gwyn? Huh?

That’s how delulu y’all sound. And if I hear another “you’re the ribbon Az”, one more time I’ll scream. THE RIBBON WAS ABOUT TRAINING NOT GWYN WANTING TO SLEEP WITH THE MAN. We are talking about the same girl who hadn’t left a library in god knows how long because of a sexual trauma and y’all are forcing her onto another man??

Gwyn was focused on coming into herself and mastering the ways of the Valkyrie. Nesta meant Gwyn found another obstacle in Az that she would have to overcome to become a Valkyrie. The only man Gwyn was concerned about was Cassian and that’s cause he was getting it on with Nesta. Again, be so for real right now.

I refuse to acknowledge this point until the opposing ships acknowledge the 3 books (+ ACOFAS) of build up between Elain and Azriel.

• #5 - Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court

This is the last point I’ll mention cause I actually feel bad for dogging the Gwynriels like this, but it had to be done. (Elucians get a pass bc at least their ship is based in evidence)

Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court, okay, yeah Cassian said that the colors drown her out, I’ll give you that.

But Elain doesn’t know where she belongs anymore, just like Azriel has said about himself. She’s still figuring herself out and what she wants, so it’s okay she looks odd at times or feels at times out of place. Azriel keeps his shadows out 24/7 for the same reason. He doesn’t let anyone past the front he puts on unless he knows it’s safe to. They’re both figuring out how to live their best lives in their current lives.

I’ve heard Dusk Court theories and others but I won’t even repeat those (even tho they’re so good and you should definitely look into them). They just need to find their place in this world (and Cassian was right, Elain DOES NOT BELONG in the Hewn City).

Just like how Nesta didn’t believe she belonged in the Inner Circle, I believe there’s a place for Elain and Azriel where they can be themselves. They just need to find it I.E. their book.

Okay, that’s enough slaying of my enemies for one post. Again, this is just my opinion/theories and at the end of the day I’ll be happy with whatever Mrs. Maas gives us as long as she gives us something.

Act correctly or else I’ll be back.

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randomfoggytiger · 8 months

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"Proving" Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby

(Had to get this out before the next part of Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma series; so... here we go~!)

Mulder knew he was the father of Scully's baby before Three Words began; and his reticence had everything to do with his PTSD, guilt, and fear and nothing to do with feeling replaced by his partner's child. His ending monologue in Existence further proves this, concluding Mulder's emotional turbulence: "I think what we feared were the possibilities. The truth we both knew."

But how is that to be proven?

Cutting Out Context to Bait the Mystery

According to the script (uploaded here by @x-files-scripts, thank you~), Scully very casually mentions how far along she is separate from her concerns about (and to) Mulder. Mulder doesn't react to this information at all, meaning whatever his reticence and withdrawal were rooted in had nothing to do with feeling replaced as the father of her child.

Throughout their conversation, Mulder tries to keep Scully from digging deeper into his emotions or trauma, deflecting with humor or emotional separation. Scully finally directly addresses his distance; and (though a bit out-of-order from how it aired), the scene below makes two things very obvious:

SCULLY: Mulder --

MULDER: (cutting her off) -- whatever you're going to say, Scully, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be cold. Or ungrateful to you.

SCULLY: I don't know if you can truly understand what it was like.... And now to get you back....

MULDER manages a smile, finally. But only barely.

MULDER: You act like you're surprised.

Scully manages a chuckle, but she's truly worried about him.

SCULLY: I prayed so many nights. And my prayers were answered, Mulder.

MULDER: In more ways than one.

MULDER looks to Scully's stomach. Which she touches.

SCULLY: Yes.

MULDER: I'm so truly happy for you. I know what it means to you --

SCULLY: Mulder --

MULDER: (cuts her off again) -- but I'm having trouble processing any of this. I don't know why I'm here, or where I fit in anymore. I feel strange. Like this can't be happening.

SCULLY nods. Anything she had wanted to tell him will wait.

SCULLY: That's what I've been saying to myself for the last eight months.

What Scully "had wanted to tell him" had nothing to do with her child's paternity nor was that even a concern because she, as mentioned above, says "the last eight months" effortlessly. (An important note: because they kept no show bible, the writers forgot Mulder was missing three months and buried another three; but the intent behind that line is the same even if there isn't or wasn't a numbers problem to quibble over.)

"The last eight months" comes at the tail end of the conversation without a remark or quip from Mulder's perspective, meaning this wasn't news enough for him to comment on or even react to. Scully's statement bookended their discussion, meaning she wasn't drawing it out longer or forcing information down Mulder's throat that he wasn't ready to process. Since that is the case, both knew the problem wasn't her pregnancy (though it was a stressful factor) but was another, bigger concern.

Devil's advocate: Scully was trying to tell Mulder the baby was his-- Gillian Anderson's expressions debunk this theory, but we'll press on-- and the months referred to was how long Mulder was "gone": in which case, Scully being hugely pregnant would have been a huge tip off for her partner regardless; and Mulder, for as much as he is avoiding the obvious this episode, is not stupid.

By cutting up the script-- taking out important context and removing crucial lines-- the audience is left to speculate on information that what was intended to be understated yet obvious (though unconfirmed until the finale episodes.) Chris Carter and Spotnitz have already stated they'd baited Scully's pregnancy as much as they could (one such interview here, credit to @babygirlmulder1018 for the upload~) while always planning for Mulder to be the father. The problem with their method is that they sacrificed necessary clarity for ambiguity, leaving the actors to scramble or fill in the butchered gaps as much as they could with implied body language. Three Words Mulder's affectionate, though fleeting, glances at Scully's belly or Scully's heightening worry for his well-being are debatable clues, all dependent on the viewer's interpretation (even when rewatched with hindsight.) The key to any good mystery is to have all the puzzle pieces in place so that it makes sense when you go back and see them all line up. Cutting out important clues early just to bait the mystery is foolhardy, especially when those gaps are never filled-in with any answers; and The X-Files show, while built around unsolved or unresolved mysteries, always provided a likely explanation (even if that explanation was later revealed to not be entirely true.) It's a shame that this premediated action thoughtlessly skewed the reading of the scene so badly that it took away from its original intent-- Scully's worries over her partner as he becomes more and more lost in his trauma-- and turned it widely into a "bet he's jealous or feels left behind because Scully moved on without him" interpretation, muddying it for viewers over the decades to come.

It's not the first time a script has been stripped of its original intent to fit the vision of the showrunners (often to the frustration to the various writers, actors, directors, etc.); but there is a marked difference between the tampering done to, for example, David Duchovny's personal ideas and scripts in keeping with the mythos of the show (Cinefantastique: David Duchovny on "The Unnatural" and "Hollywood A.D.") and specifically removing an important piece of dialogue to intentionally blur a scene for "the mystery" without that action serving any goal other than obfuscation... and, ultimately, confusion.

Mulder Himself Proves He Knew

According to the script, Scully's concerns started in her partner's hospital room when Mulder's non-reaction snags her notice twice in a row:

"His reaction is so underwhelming that Scully has to laugh" and

"The doctor has to chuckle, looking to Scully. But Scully isn't humored now. She reads something in Mulder past the humor. And Mulder catches her sensing it. That he is deeply troubled."

"Mulder catches her sensing it" is a crucial piece of information, smoothly setting up the scene at his apartment-- Mulder doesn't ice Scully out (always responding to her pleas with mustered up but equal sympathy and sorrow) but he avoids her eyes as much as possible, not wanting to be read, to be "exposed." THAT is what concerns Scully-- never before in their partnership has he evaded eye contact, likely seeking it more often than any other person on the planet. But Mulder (also likely more than anyone) knows that eyes are the window to the soul; and he doesn't want his bared yet.

The tricky part of the ensuing scenes is not to mistake his avoidance of Scully's detection with his avoidance of the baby. Mulder is avoiding everything equally-- but he will still spare a moment for his partner or his baby here and there before snatching away his focus again, dodging any opportunity that might lead to vulnerability.

At his apartment, Mulder turns aside whenever he can or spreads a plaster-fake grin on his face when in conversation;

but it melts into sincerity after he finally acknowledges the baby in the room. It's not quite happiness, but it is a form of contentment and a little pride (similar to his look on the couch in Empedocles.)

When Scully wants to commit anarchy over Kersh's tyrannical terms, Mulder squashes that impulse flat, sparing a strained but still sincere smile as he directs her attention to the pragmatic fact of her baby.

(It's not until "Agent Who?" comes across Mulder's radar that he starts to stiffen against Scully's reticence. Again, not about the baby.)

The last significant mention of Scully's pregnancy is in her kitchen at her apartment. TLG drop in to do their research... and to refocus Mulder on his impending miracle ("a certain blessed event") and away from his crazy mission. Mulder's amused at first with their commentary (as is Scully), giving an exaggeratedly suspicious, comedic squint (which Scully follows up with a witty repartee on his investigative methods)--

until he figures out his partner's ulterior machinations. (The tensions that trail them both the rest of the episode are because of Scully's interferences and not-- again-- because of the baby.)

Those are the only direct references to the baby in Three Words, although Scully does tag along on his madcap mission with TLG); and Empedocles starts out in the spirit of the kitchen scene above-- Mulder squinting about the pizza man, ribbing Scully lightly, and enjoying getting ribbed in return-- but with the added bonus of some unfiltered, heartfelt moments of a man fully embracing fatherhood.

So why, if the original intent of the struggle of Three Words wasn't about the paternity question, does Mulder still struggle with doubts the rest of the series. Well... what were his paternity doubts?

Paternity Doubts

Mulder knew (logically) that his partner wouldn't run into the arms of another man or through the doors of the nearest IVF clinic just because he was chucked six feet under; but that reassurance gave him nothing to stand firmly on since both of their lives revolved around clones, aliens, and even a little girl that was born (and died) to serve an agenda.

Scully had been used over and over against her consent and was ultimately stripped of her fertility; and even though Mulder once said "never give up on a miracle", the IVF had failed, and there had been months of regular extracurricular activities since without even a thought of a baby on either of their radars. But somehow, the minute he vanishes off the planet, she finds out she's pregnant? The exact same somehow he was abducted and somehow returned and somehow resurrected? It doesn't add up; and Mulder's motto has always been "I want to believe."

"I have the same doubts you do, Scully," he said in the Pilot; and those doubts haunt him in Three Words; and (although they are temporarily set aside during the off-screen conversation Mulder has with his partner before Empedocles) they remain, along with his fears, buried under the surface-- as demonstrated by his opening monologue in Essence: "Is it the product of a union? Or... an answer to prayer-- a true miracle? Or is it a wonder of technology, the intervention of other hands? What do I tell this child about to be born? What do I tell Scully? What do I tell myself?"

Furthermore, the events of Essence and Existence make a bit (only a bit) more sense if those events-- Zeus Genetics, Billy Miles, Lizzie Gill, Krycek, the Super soldiers, and other such nonsense-- are put through another lens: trauma.

The Other, Bigger Concern

If Mulder knew the baby was his, why did he distance himself?

Simply put, PTSD.

Three Words very specifically chooses Mulder's flashbacks as his first scene (post here), providing motive to any future decision he makes. Being torn apart for three months and buried another three before being resurrected on a chance is a lot to grapple with; add in a pregnant partner who is clearly expecting a miraculous baby amidst a set of tragically unmiraculous events and looking to her recently resurrected partner for not only their old relationship but more and you get a PTSD-riddled, paranoid, and very panicked Fox Mulder.

Empedocles begins after the aforementioned off-screen conversation; and quite plainly establishes Mulder in his new paternal role, bringing Scully (and the baby) gifts like he has any other significant moment in their relationship (and also because it's no longer acceptable to bring triumphant caveman hunting trophies back to the domestic den.) This episode not only goes out of its way to give him a first-time "feeling his baby move" scene, but further cements Mulder's role by showing him standing sentry outside of Scully's door, doting on her hand and foot back at her apartment, and including their baby nonverbally in Scully's gratitude speech. These benchmark moments are then followed up by him briefly forgetting his baby in Vienen, not wanting to leave its side in Alone, and cycling back to his paternity worries in Essence-- further proof that his initial distance and on-again-off-again dance is rooted firmly in trauma rearing its ugly head to continually mess up his temporary peace.

That trauma follows him (mostly unacknowledged) the rest of Season 8, coming to a head (and exploding) during the events of Essence and Existence. When his security in Scully's science and himself are completely eroded, Mulder is left blindly grappling for any explanation from any nearest and newest source currently in front of him (handing off Scully to his sworn enemy should have been the tip-off point to both she and Skinner, prompting them to put a stop to his spiraling before doing anything else... but I digress.) His hot-and-cold attitude is back (referring to their child as "your baby") even though his fiercely protective love and interest hasn't faded one bit ("will do anything to protect it.")

Deep down, Mulder always knew (or at least hoped) the baby was his-- "the truth we both know," after all.

So, What Does This Mean?

Probably nothing in the grand scheme of things, but a rippling domino effect in the minutiae. It explains Mulder's distant-then-doting attitude, the manifestation of his PTSD and impending parenthood, and even why he was happy to have Scully firmly glued by his side throughout Three Words (even if he couldn't meet her eyes at times.) Scully's pregnancy was a change for both: almost overnight she needed more from their relationship. However, once she realized how displaced and harried Mulder was, Scully relaxed the pace for both of them (off-screen...), allowing Mulder to finally recover, regroup, and continue on. Once that understanding was reached (again: off-screen), Mulder started to take his journey more gently (upsetting and resettling himself whenever Scully's health scares or his impulsive actions blasted him up, down, and sideways) while Scully refigured how to fit their new normal into the life she built in his absence. Like always, teamwork and their unspoken; and, overall, it makes Season 8's there-and-gone-again MSR bits that much more in-character and enjoyable.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #meta #xf meta #Mulder #S8 #“Proving” Mulder Knew He Was the Father of Scully's Baby #Scully #Deadalive #Three Words #Essence #Existence #Empedocles #x-files #xfiles #the x files #mine #dailytxf #xf30th #analysis

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hd-junglebook · 2 months

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Neutral

Part 6

word count - 4,059

You're nestled comfortably in your tent, enjoying a rare moment of respite from the chaos of camp life. The soft glow of moonlight flickers gently against the walls of your tent. A book lies forgotten in your lap as you lean back against the makeshift bed.

Your peaceful reverie is abruptly shattered as Bellamy bursts into the tent with all the subtlety of a charging mammoth.

He storms across the tent until he stands directly beside your bed. "Have you seen Octavia?" he demands, his voice gruff and urgent, his eyes wild with panic.

You shoot him a silent glare, your annoyance evident even in the dim light. "And here I was, thinking you'd come to serenade me with sweet nothings," you reply, your tone laced with sarcasm.

Bellamy scowls, his features contorted with frustration. "This is serious, y/n!" he snaps, his patience wearing thin. "Octavia's gone.”

You roll your eyes, unable to resist the urge to taunt him further. "Well, maybe if you didn't have such a big head, you'd be able to see past your own nose and find her yourself," you retort, Bellamy's face turns a deep shade of crimson, his anger boiling over at your flippant remark.

"You think this is a joke?" he seethes, his voice trembling with rage. "Fine, I'll find her myself. But don't come crying to me when she's lying in a ditch somewhere."

With that, Bellamy storms out of the tent, leaving you alone once more. There's no denying the satisfaction of getting under Bellamy's skin, even if only for a moment.

With a guilty sigh, you push yourself up from your makeshift bed and hastily follow him out into the cold night air. "Bellamy, wait," you call after him, your voice softer now, "I'm sorry. I'll help you find her."

He grunts in response, his steps never faltering as he continues to march forward with purpose. You quicken your pace, falling into step beside him, determined not to let him face this ordeal alone. "Why are you always so mean to me?"

He casts a sidelong glance in your direction as he scoffs at the question. "Me? Mean to you?" he retorts, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice.

"If anyone's the mean one around here, it's you, y/n. If you’d quit being so annoying all the time, I’d treat you better."

…

You and Bellamy scour the camp in search of Octavia, deciding to seek help from Clarke.

Bursting into her tent, you find her hunched over a makeshift table, poring over maps and charts with furrowed brows. "Clarke, have you seen Octavia?" you ask, getting straight to the point.

She looks up, her eyes widening in concern. "No, I haven't," she replies, her voice echoing your worry. "But I'll help you look."

Together, the three of you comb through the camp, calling out Octavia's name as you search every nook and cranny for any sign of her. Despite your best efforts, she remains elusive, her whereabouts still unknown.

Bellamy's jaw clenches as he gathers the other members of the camp, rallying them to form a search party to scour the surrounding area. The volunteers gather at the gate, devising a plan of action to cover the most ground in the shortest amount of time.

"Everybody, gather around and grab a weapon," he commands, "My sister's been out there alone for 12 hours. Arm up. We're not coming back without her."

Bellamy turns to Finn with a fierce intensity in his gaze. "Finn," he calls out, his voice cutting through the night air like a clarion call. "You're with me."

A meteor shower streaks across the sky, illuminating the darkness with a dazzling display of light. Clarke exhales sharply debunking the other campers’ theories,

“That’s not a meteor shower, it's a funeral. Hundreds of bodies are being returned to the earth from the ark. This is what it looks like from the other side.” she huffs out before turning to Raven.

You glance up at the spectacle, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. "The flares didn't work," you mutter under your breath, your voice barely audible over the murmurs of the others.

Bellamy's gaze meets yours in silent acknowledgment. With a heavy heart, he turns back to the group, his voice firm as he outlines the next steps of the search.

“What are we waiting for? Move out!” he calls out. The group springs into action, venturing out into the wilderness in search of Octavia.

The sound of their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night, the only illumination comes from the flickering torches held aloft by the campers.

You walk in silence behind Finn, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Octavia. The darkness is oppressive, pressing in on you from all sides. Finn's voice cuts through the quiet, breaking the tension like a crack of thunder.

"Over here!" he calls out urgently, waving the group over. You rush over to where Finn stands, A length of rope lies coiled on the forest floor, discarded and forgotten amidst the underbrush. "Is this Octavia’s?" Finn says as he picks up the rope and shows it to you.

Your eyes catch sight of something else amidst the tangled undergrowth. Footprints, faint but unmistakable, crisscrossing the forest floor like a trail of breadcrumbs leading deeper into the darkness. You catch Bellamy and Finns attention, guiding them to the footprints.

“The prints are deeper going that way. He was carrying her.” Finn shouts. "We're getting close," he mutters, his voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.

The group continued to press on, following the footsteps. Impaled corpses, their lifeless forms skewered on crude stakes, stand as silent sentinels, alluding to the fact that you all have entered Grounder territory.

Half of the delinquent’s balk at the sight, their faces pale with fear as they exchange nervous glances. "We should head back," one of them whispers, his voice trembling with apprehension.

Bellamy's gaze flickers to the rest of the group, his expression unreadable. "Anyone who doesn't want to continue, head back to camp," he says, his voice firm.

Several members of the group step forward, their faces pale with fear as they make their decision. With a nod from Bellamy, they turn and disappear into the darkness, leaving only the six of you standing amidst the shadows.

"We keep going," Bellamy declares, his voice unwavering. "We find Octavia, no matter what."

…

Finn, who had been leading the group, suddenly stops in his tracks, his brow furrowed in frustration as he examines the ground beneath him.

"I've lost the trail," he admits defeatedly. A wave of restlessness washes over the group, murmurs of frustration and anxiety echoing through the woods.

Just then, a voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the silence with its unexpectedness. "Where's John?" a girl pipes up from the back of the group.

You glance around, your heart sinking as you realize that John, one of the members of the search party, is nowhere to be found. Panic begins to bubble up within the group, their anxiety mounting with each passing second.

"Spread out and look for him," you command with false security. "He was just here, he can’t be far."

The group disperses, scrambling through the forest as they search for any sign of their missing comrade. Grounders emerges from the trees seemingly out of nowhere with a speed and stealth that takes the search party by surprise.

More and more of them begin to appear, their numbers growing by the second as they surround the group.

You and the rest of the search party scramble to escape the encroaching grounders. Fear pulses through your veins as you run blindly after Finn through the underbrush, the sound of pursuit echoing in your ears.

"Stop!" he calls out, his instincts kicking into overdrive as he senses something is wrong.

"So, are we racing to the finish line or just trying to outrun our bad decisions?" you state through exaggerated breaths. Bellamy gives you a look of disapproval before you raise your hands in surrender.

Diggs, in his blind panic refuses to stop running, leaving the group behind he fails to see the tripwire lying in wait for him. With a sickening crunch, he triggers the trap, his body impaled on the cruel spikes of a grounder trap.

Horror washes over the group as they witness the gruesome sight. Roma, overcome with panic at the sight of Diggs' fate, breaks away from the group once more. The grounders, sensing weakness, give chase, their figures disappearing into the shadows as they pursue their prey.

…

With each step, the forest seems to close in around you. The pounding of your heart drowns out the sounds of the forest as you sprint after Bellamy as he charges after the grounders. You both skid to a halt - Roma's lifeless body, lying crumpled on the forest floor like a discarded doll.

"They're playing with us," you gasp out, sickened by the sadistic display. This was a message.

Jasper's grief erupts into a raw, primal scream, his anguish echoing through the darkness as he unleashes his rage on the grounders. his cries fall on deaf ears, the grounders closing in menacingly.

You grab for him but he slips from your grasp. "Jasper, stop!" Bellamy shouts. But rage has consumed him. The Grounders peer out from the shadows, weapons poised, savoring his anger.

Just when it seems like all hope is lost, a deafening blast pierces through the air, the sound of the Foghorn reverberating through the forest like a warning bell. The grounders hesitate, their faces twisted in confusion before they retreat.

Bellamy held up a hand, signaling everyone to pause. "The fog is coming. We need to set up shelter, now!" Murmurs of alarm rippled through the group. Jasper's eyes went wide with fear.

Monroe sprang into action, dropping her pack and pulling out a large tent. "Everyone, help get the tent up! We need to get inside before it's too late." You rushed to help her and Jasper unfurl the canvas and snap together the poles with fumbling hands. The others gathered fallen branches to weigh down the edges.

As soon as the tent was upright, You were the first one to scramble under the tent, you can feel Bellamy's presence close beside you, his hand brushing against yours while you hold the flap open. The rest of the group follows suit, huddling together in the cramped space as you wait for the deadly fog to roll in.

"Will this hold against the fog?" Monroe asked nervously.

Bellamy's jaw tightened as he secured the entrance flap. "It'll have to. Just stay low and cover your skin."

The air inside the tent is hot due to the overcrowding. The heat of so many bodies pressed close together creating a suffocating atmosphere. Sweat beads on your brow as you struggle to catch your breath in the oppressive heat.

Bellamy shifts beside you, his proximity only adding to the warmth radiating from your surroundings. You steal a glance at him, noticing the sheen of sweat on his brow as he too grapples with the uncomfortable conditions.

The rest of the group is similarly affected, their faces flushed and their breath coming in ragged gasps as they try to find relief from the sweltering heat. Some fidget restlessly, while others simply close their eyes and try to endure the discomfort in silence.

You can't help but let out a chuckle, despite the discomfort. "Well, who needs a sauna when you have a tent full of sweaty delinquents?" you quip, trying to lighten the mood amidst the stifling heat.

The minutes drag on and the oppressive heat shows no signs of abating, Bellamy's patience wears thin. With a frustrated sigh, he glances around the cramped confines of the tent, a determined glint in his eyes as he realizes that something isn't right.

Jasper's restless energy permeates the silence that following. "How long are we supposed to wait?"

"There's no Acid Fog," he mutters in disbelief. "We've been sitting here for nothing." Bellamy's sharp eyes catch sight of a lone grounder slipping away through the trees, his movements furtive and swift.

Bellamy's jaw tightens as he weighs his options, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of the grounder. "He doesn't see us," he says quietly, his voice firm with determination. "I'm going after him."

Finn considers the implications of Bellamy's plan. "And what?" he asks, his tone skeptical. "Kill him?"

Bellamy shakes his head. "No," he replies, his voice low and cold. "Catch him. Make him tell me where Octavia is. Then kill him." Jasper's eyes widen at Bellamy's words, mirroring your expression. "How do we know he's not leading us to another trap?"

Finn's shoulders sag in resignation at the question, "We don't," he admits. Without another word, Bellamy springs into action, his instincts driving him forward as he leads the group in pursuit of the fleeing figure.

…

The grounder leads your group through a winding cave passage, dimly lit by scattered torches. Shadows dance across the rough walls as you venture deeper underground.

Your eyes widen in alarm as you spot Octavia struggling to reach the key, her fingers just out of reach.

"Octavia," Bellamy calls out. You watch anxiously as Bellamy approaches Octavia, grabbing the key and releasing her bound wrist. "Monroe, watch the entrance," before turning back to his sister. "It's okay. You're okay."

Your eyes drift over to the grounder lying motionless nearby, spotting the foghorn on the cave floor. Realization dawns - this grounder had blown the horn that saved your lives. He had risked himself for you.

You share a troubled glance with Finn. Together you crouch down, checking the grounder for any signs of life. As you roll him over, his eyes flutter open weakly.

"We need to get back to camp," you tell Bellamy urgently. Whatever the grounder's motives, he clearly doesn't see you as mere enemies to be slaughtered.

You're taken aback as the grounder suddenly surges upwards, a flash of steel glinting in his hand in the dim light of the cave. Before you can react, he slashes the knife viciously towards Bellamy.

On instinct you throw yourself forward, your bare hands closing around the blade with a desperate grip. Searing pain slices through your palms but you clutch it tightly, stopping the attack. Blood wells up, slick and hot.

Finn rushes in, shoving you aside. You grit your teeth against the pain, pressing yourself back against the rough stone wall of the cave in a desperate bid to distance yourself from the violence unfolding before you.

The sharp edges dig into your back, adding to the discomfort, but you welcome the distraction, focusing on the sensation to distract yourself from the agony coursing through your veins.

Finn and the grounder crash together, grappling fiercely. They slam into the cave walls, the knife glinting dangerously between them. The sound of struggle echoes through the cave, their bodies locked in a desperate struggle for survival.

With a violent twist, the grounder drives the blade into Finn's side, the sharp blade sinking deep into flesh with a sickening squelch.

Finn cries out, shock and disbelief etched on his face, as he stumbled backwards and collapsing to the cave floor as blood stains his shirt.

The grounder's wild eyes fix on Bellamy as he charges forward with a guttural cry. Bellamy braces himself just as the muscular grounder slams into him, driving him down.

They crash violently to the cave floor, the grounder's knife glinting as he presses it to Bellamy's throat.

Bellamy struggles beneath the weight, grunting with effort. The knife edge digs in, just shy of drawing blood.

"Please!" Octavia cries out desperately. "Don't kill my brother!"

The grounder hesitates, conflict etched on his face. His grip on the knife wavers slightly at her words. In that moment of indecision, Jasper appears behind the grounder and swings his makeshift club with all his might. It connects solidly with the back of the grounder's skull with a sickening thud.

The grounder's eyes roll back as he sags forward, collapsing unconscious atop Bellamy. Shoving him off, Bellamy scrambles to his feet, chest heaving. Bellamy pushes himself to his feet, his chest heaving with exertion as he surveys the scene before him.

Octavia is already at Finn's side, her hands trembling as she applies pressure to the stab wound and trying to stop the bleeding. "Hold on, Finn," she pleads while he groans in pain.

"We need to get Finn out of here now!" Bellamy orders. Bellamy and Monroe lift Finn up and you all hurry from the cave, leaving the murderous grounder behind. You know the knife that was meant for Bellamy could end up costing Finn's life instead.

Bellamy moves with purpose, leading the way back to camp. His movements spur the rest of you into action, and you struggle to keep pace due to the pain coursing through your body.

…

You glance down at your injured hands, the pain throbbing with each heartbeat. With a grimace, you tear off your sleeves and hastily tie them around the wound, the makeshift bandage offering some measure of relief.

The adrenaline is starting to fade in your body and instead the exhaustion is kicking in, you find yourself lagging behind, your steps growing slower and more unsteady with each passing moment as your friends disappear out of your view. Your vision blurs and swims, black spots dancing at the edges as you fight to stay conscious.

With each step, the world grows dimmer, the sounds of the forest fading into a distant haze as you push yourself forward. With everything going on all you can think of is your mother.

"I wish you were here," you whisper to yourself, gaze drifting upward to the vast expanse of the night sky.

The stars twinkle overhead offering no answers, their silent witness serving only to remind you that you were unwanted and unloved. You wish she hadn't sent you down here alone, without her guidance and protection.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to reconcile the harsh realities of your situation. You long for her comforting embrace, for the reassurance of her presence by your side.

You fall to your knees in the darkness, the burning pain almost unbearable as you check the bandages. the white cloth of your sleeved are now stained crimson with your blood.

With a heavy heart, you wipe away the tears and attempt to push yourself to your feet, knowing you cannot dwell on her any further.

The darkness closes in around you before you can’t see anything else.

…

The sound of heavy rain pelting the earth fills your ears, mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. Mud squelches beneath you, soaking through your clothes as you lie helpless on the forest floor.

The damp forest floor feels good pressing against your flushed cheek. In the distance, thunder rumbles ominously.

Faint voices drift through the trees, too far to understand. You try to call out, but only manage a weak croak. "Bellamy?" you rasp hopefully. You strain to make out the words, your senses dulled by pain and exhaustion.

"You two," he points to his search party, "head in there and don't come out until you've got him.

The figures draw nearer, distorted by rain and fog. You can just make out Bellamy's dark curly hair coming into view, his face etched with concern.

"Hold on," he breathes, dropping down beside you. "I’m gonna get you home." You wince as he grasping your arm tightly, fresh pain lancing through your body.

You tried to speak but only managed a weak cough. Bellamy slipped an arm under you, carefully pulling you up from the cold mud. You cried out hoarsely as the movement ignited fresh agony in your wounds.

"I know, I'm sorry," he grimaced, holding you close against him. "I’ve got you now. Just stay with me."

Leaning heavily on Bellamy, you hobbled forward with his support. Each step was torture, but you focused on putting one foot in front of the other as the storm raged around you.

Every gust of wind threatens to uproot trees and send them crashing to the ground.

"You're going to be okay," he reassures you, his voice gentle yet resolute. "Just hang in there, alright? We'll get you patched up and back to camp in no time."

His two companions emerged from the cave. Between them, they carry the grounder who attacked Finn, his unconscious form slung over their shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He grabs the rope they'd used on the grounder before. "Let's get this bastard tied up before he wakes."

Working quickly, they bind the grounder's hands and feet. The storm around you seems to rage even harder as they work, as if protesting their presence in the forest.

With a nod of acknowledgment they follow behind as he leads them back to camp. The wind whips through the trees, drowning out any words that might be spoken. Bellamy remains steadfast by your side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist as he supports your weight.

With each step, the muddy ground threatens to give way beneath your feet, Bellamy scoops you up into his arms as your legs finally give out, no longer able to support your weight. You cry out in pain, clutching at him weakly as he carries you the last stretch towards camp.

The rain beats down relentlessly as He ducks into the shelter of the dropship. Clarke and Octavia rush forward when they see the state you're in, alarm on their faces.

He gently layed you down on a blanket as you whimper, fresh waves of agony coursing through your body. Bellamy smooths back your wet hair, his expression pained. "You're safe now," he murmurs.

Suddenly angry shouts erupt from behind him. Bellamy's companions drag a bound Grounder through the entrance, throwing him harshly to the floor. Clarke and Octavia stare in shock before rounding on Bellamy, demanding answers.

"The hell are you doing?" Octavia demands, her eyes narrowing as she surveys the scene unfolding before her. Bellamy meets her gaze, his expression unreadable as he responds with quiet determination. "It's time to get some answers."

Octavia scoffs at his words, her disbelief evident in the way she crosses her arms over her chest. "Oh, you mean 'revenge'?"

But Bellamy shakes his head, his gaze unwavering as he meets her eyes. "I mean 'intel'," he clarifies, his voice cutting through the howling wind with quiet authority.

Turning to his companions who carried the captive grounder, Bellamy issues a command. "Get him upstairs," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the boys obediently move to carry out Bellamy's orders, Clarke approaches. She meets Bellamy's eyes, a silent question passing between them.

The radio crackles to life behind her, causing Bellamy to giver a shocked look at the unexpected interruption. Abby's voice comes through the static, her words echoing with urgency and concern. "Clarke, okay we're ready. Can you hear me?"

Turning to face him, "Look," she begins, her voice heavy with emotion, "this is not who we are."

Bellamy's eyes harden as he faces down Clarke and Octavia's protests. He holds up a hand, silencing them. "This is who we are now!" he declares through gritted teeth. "We do what we must to survive."

His uncompromising words dare them to argue. Clarke and Octavia exchange frustrated looks but stay silent. They know Bellamy's mind is set.

With frustrated sighs, they turn away and get to work treating Finn. Bellamy kneels beside you again, his calloused hand is unexpectedly gentle as he caresses your face. "I have to take care of this," he says grimly before heading for the ladder.

You watch through hazy eyes as he disappears above to deal with the Grounder prisoner. The storm continues its assault outside, rain pounding relentlessly on the metal hull.

Utterly spent, you finally let your heavy eyelids fall shut. The pain feels distant now. You take comfort knowing Bellamy will keep you all safe, no matter what it takes or who tries to stop him.

…

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devilry-revelry · 11 months

Text

Untitled - Male Orc x Female Human (Part 4)

OOPS I TRIPPED.

Not lemon, but maybe lemon zest?

Minors Do Not Interact

This marks the original concept/story for these two. First story was Riley worrying about stuff and things. Names may have changed since then. It's hard to remember. Ya know, because I deleted everything.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“Fuck,” Arzok snickered. He sounded absolutely winded from all of the laughter. “I’m not just going to ram it in and hope for the best, Riley. I promise you, we’ll fit together just fine.”

Riley’s curiosity was a dirty little bitch; a needy insatiable little whore.

Four weeks, and seven dates had left Riley’s baser urges feeling frayed and restless. After their second date they had shared the first kiss, and had since enjoyed a bit of necking. It was during their last date when their kisses turned downright sinful. Sitting in the car outside of her apartment in the middle of the night, Arzok’s hand clasped around her throat, the other slipping up her skirt as his tongue dominated her mouth. He’d teased her for just a moment, thick fingers tracing a slow path over the cleft of her pussy before he completely withdrew and bid her goodnight. Riley had been a mess ever since then. Any attempts to ease the tension Arzok had created left her feeling bereft and wanting. His had been such a strong, and commanding presence. Fiddling around with her vibrator didn’t do her any favors.

And that’s where her dirty, dirty curiosity came in.

Riley couldn’t help but think that her and Arzok’s first time together would be coming up soon. They had discussed her staying at his place for a weekend. Planning was still tentative at best but it was something they talked about with increased frequency. Arzok lived a little over thirty minutes outside of town, and while he claimed that the commute wasn’t any trouble, they had both agreed that a relaxing weekend without all of the typical date-night run around would be a nice change of pace. That, of course, meant that Riley would be staying at Arzok’s house and, sure, she could sleep on the couch or in a spare room, but she probably wouldn’t. Sex or not. Because they were adults. And they were dating.

But those thoughts took a hard turn and she had been stuck with thinking about what she should expect were she to sleep with Arzok. He had mentioned that he was dominant and controlling, but what else should she anticipate? Arzok was big. Huge. He dwarfed her by nearly two feet and Riley was on the taller side of average. He was broad, and he was strong, but what about the rest? Short of just coming out and asking Arzok “hey, how big are orc dicks?” her only real avenue of getting that information was the internet.

And that’s where Riley’s curiosity turned into a dirty, insatiable, little tramp.

The initial search was a simple request on average sizes, but then a few videos showed up. The first video Riley stumbled into involved a beast of an orc, his height easily breaching the eight foot mark. He was paired with a petite, tiny little woman. The orc’s dick was bigger than Riley’s whole forearm, and while the pornstar took it like an absolute champion, Riley was aghast. It was porn so of course there were so many degrees of separation, but there was no way. No. Way. One video chased another in an effort to debunk the sudden theory that orc men were just obscenely massive in the pants department. Absolutely nothing was debunked. She’d even tried narrowing down her search, but it yielded no results. Instead, Riley had somehow ended up on orc-human BDSM play – and that was how Arzok’s phone call found her: stunned, horrified, whole-heartedly curious, and completely dejected.

Riley didn’t process the first ring. She was far too engrossed in what was going on on the screen. On the second ring, she had a whole body reaction like he just walked in the door and caught her personally. Riley yelped - actually yelped - and slapped at her keyboard to pause the video. Then she abandoned the laptop on her coffee table and retreated to her bedroom as if getting away from the laptop would hide the evidence of her insatiable curiosity. She even closed her bedroom door. Locked it.

“H-hi-llo–?” Hillo. Jesus. C’mon Riley.

“Hey, baby,” Arzok said. His voice was low, and sleepy-quiet. He had informed her earlier that day that he wouldn’t be getting home from a work-thing until late. Nearing midnight, he sounded absolutely knackered. The growling rasp that was always in his voice was more prominent with his fatigue. Riley couldn’t help but like the idea of hearing him sound like that in person, grumbling sleepy good mornings. “I was just calling to say goodnight.”

“I won’t keep you then,” Riley replied. Her voice matched the quiet pitch so as not to rouse him. “Did everything go okay, though?”

“Don’t know, and right now I’m too fucking tired to care,” he groused. Riley was able to pick up the teasing inflection of his words despite his bitter tone. “How about you? How was your night? What’re you still doing up?”

“Oh it was fine,” Riley replied quickly.

Arzok asked again, “What are you still doing up? You’re usually down for the count by now. Is everything okay?”

The heated flush that rushed into her cheeks felt as if her own body was trying to betray her. She moved away from the bedroom door to sit on the edge of her bed, then she flopped to her back. She hated that he was right. Riley was typically curled up, in bed, and on the verge of sleep by 9:30 most weeknights.

“Oh, everything is fine. I just… lost track of time.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

His question didn’t feel as if he was prying. He sounded genuine in his interest. Riley worried her lower lip, wishing that she had curiously looked up videos on how to knit or crochet.

“Nothing. Just…” The idea of lying left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. So she skirted the details and addressed it in broad strokes. “I’ve just been thinking. It’s really nothing crazy though. But, hey, why don’t we both go to bed and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“The fuck we will. What’s wrong, what happened? Is everything alright?” The sleepy timber of his voice was gone, and he now sounded wide awake, and bordering on frantic.

“It’s literally nothing to worry about. I promise–”

“Riley.”

“Fine just… Just don’t make fun of me, alright?”

“Never. Just talk to me, baby. You’re freaking me out. ‘I’ve been thinking’ sounds like a goddamn death sentence.”

Riley sucked in a slow breath, held it, and released. She tried to control the swell of stinging, hot, embarrassment. She had thought about it so much that it worried her, which drove her to the internet, which worried her more. The fact that she had thought about it enough that she was driven to consult the internet was so stupid–

“Riley, sweetling, come on.”

“Okay, okay.” She babbled, “You have to promise not to make fun of me though, alright?”

“I already said I wouldn’t. Look, if you don’t tell me I’ll drive over there and–”

“Whatifyoudon’tfit?”

“Fucking what?”

I said,” she heaved another heavy breath. “What if… you don’t… fit?”

Silence. Quiet, deafening, silence. Riley waited with baited breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything. It felt as if the quiet stretched on for an eternity before a hint of sound broke through. It was barely there. Muffled. There was a sound like a snort, and then another–

“Don’t you laugh at me, you monster!”

The laughter came through full force suddenly. It was loud, booming, jovial. Riley could imagine him; his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut tight as he succumbed to it. Imagining him laughing made Riley’s mood darken. He was making fun of her, but he was beautiful when he laughed. The bastard.

“I–I’m not–I–” His efforts to calm himself only seemed to make the situation that much worse.

Riley sat up in bed, glaring daggers at her bedroom wall. “Hey, I’m serious!”

Arzok’s rolling laughter slipped into its decline, and eventually he said, “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re–you’re up this late worrying about whether or not my dick will fit–?”

“Yes!” Riley wailed. “I am! Look, I know it’s dumb, but I like you a lot. And if this whole thing doesn’t work out because you have a third arm–” Arzok cackled. “--then that’s really going to suck.”

Riley grumbled morosely through his reassurance, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to hide under her bed for the next century. She should have known better than to let her curiosity win. And on top of it, she sure as shit shouldn’t have been data collecting by watching pornography. Even if it was mostly accidental, once she started it was hard to look away and she fell down the rabbit hole.

“Sweetling,” Arzok growled. “When we are ready to take that step, I’m going to take pleasure in making sure you’re good and ready to take me.”

His voice cut her grumbles short, and she fell into surprised silence. She sucked in a quick breath, searched for a reply, and managed an airy and incredibly eloquent, “Oh.”

“And I’ll make damn sure that you enjoy every fucking second of it, baby.”

The low rasping purr of his voice was warming her in ways that the insane porn videos didn’t. This was for her. She crumbled back into the bed and let her eyes close as he spoke. She imagined lying beside him as he made his dark promises, and that familiar want that had been plaguing her began to flood her system.

“I’ve thought about you cumming on my tongue as I prepare you to take my cock. Would you like that?”

Riley shivered. The ache in her core assaulted her with no mercy. She could feel her pulse leap in her sex, and the sensations resonated through her body, making her toes curl.

“I asked you a question, Riley. You will answer me.” Arzok’s tone dipped lower still. It was suddenly threatening in a way that Riley liked far too much.

She pressed her thighs together, and hummed her agreement.

“No. You will answer me. Use your words.”

“Yes…” she whispered feebly, feeling more heat gather in the apples of her cheeks. The heat seemed like it was everywhere now, emphasizing her timidities, and fueling the fire he had created with just his voice.

“Good. Now stop worrying about this shit, you hear me?” The way the threatening rumble of his voice shifted into something entirely casual and bordering on playful smacked into Riley like a Mack truck. The spreading fire was doused with a bucket of water. Her eyes popped open to stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. “I don’t know who got into your head and told you we wouldn’t work, but we will. I can’t tell you how I know that, but I look at you and I can feel it in my goddamn chest. We’ll work. Promise me that you’ll give us a chance before you let someone convince you that we won’t. I–”

“It wasn’t anybody,” Riley said gently. She had initially been willing to let him ride with the assumption that an actual person had stirred up her concerns. Now she didn’t want him to think that she was willingly associating with someone who was trying to cause problems with their relationship. That wasn’t fair.

“Then what did it? Do I need to slow down? I will…”

“No,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “The only reason I was thinking about it is because I’m-I’m looking forward to it. But… Okay, you can’t make fun of me this time.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“I assure you, it is. No laughing.”

“No promises.” When she didn’t immediately reply, Arzok pushed onward. “Can you tell me so I’ll stop worrying about it?”

Riley rolled so she could suffocate herself with the pillows in the event that the humiliation proved to be too much.

“I watched porn, okay?” I watched dirty, filthy, orc-on-human porn and I regret it! Stop laughing–!” He did not stop laughing. “Alright. Well, I’m going to go walk into the ocean now. Goodnight!”

“Baby, what the fuck?” He was still coming off his most recent bout of laughter. “Wh-why?”

Riley shoved her face into her pillows, mumbling a muffled reply, “Can we stop talking about it?”

“I will never stop talking about it. Fucking wow.”

What a nightmare of a night. If she managed to get to sleep after all of this, she was going to wake up still embarrassed.

“I’m assuming I don’t need to explain why porn isn’t the most reliable source.”

A mumble of agreement.

“All of this worrying because some pornstar with a monstercock spooked you,” he said good naturedly.

“Stop.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done. No more orc porn though, got it?”

“Got it.”

They elapsed into silence, but it felt like Arzok was smiling like an idiot. Riley felt it in her heart. She glowered and mumbled about going to bed. He agreed, and she was almost completely certain she could hear him smiling.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Almost as soon as they hung up, her phone buzzed once, twice, three times. Three text messages. All from him. Two were images.

First there was a picture of his face. His torso was bare, his arm curled around a pillow as his dark eyes stared into the camera. His inky hair was splayed out over his big gorgeous shoulders and white sheets. Riley smiled, simply staring into his eyes for a moment.

The text read:

> Just so you can get an idea of what you’re working with.

The angle of the picture came from somewhere over his head. It started just at the bottom of his chin, and it went down, down, down over his splayed chest, his stomach, his waist, to the tops of his thighs where the sheet was precariously bunched. His green skin offered a stark, beautiful contrast against the pristine bedding. Basked in warm lamp light, the contours of muscle were highlighted from his pectorals, all the way down to the tantalizing V of his hips. One of his hands was resting over his navel, and she followed the strong musculature of his tattooed arm down, and up, and down again. Riley’s eyes caught on the smattering of dark hair that met the sheet.

That awful (wonderful) orc.

Another buzz. Another message.

> Sleep sweet, Riley.

[Part 5]

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