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kairismess · 6 months

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❝HIS HEART IS ALL YOURS❞

🏐 genre: fluff ~

✒️ word count: 1,198

💭 summary: it had never dawned on you that the great king of the court, tooru oikawa, would ever have a crush on you: a mere background character in the greater scheme of things. if only you knew just how much he adored you–maybe then you'd realize you're more than a side character in the plot of your (and his) life.

💗 special mention: @moonswolfie for requesting this on my @kairiscorner acc !!

🍧 request: "Beg and you shall recieve, make oikawa fall for the nerd girl😈😈😈"

the concept of being in a relationship was foreign to you. you had never really had a proper relationship with anybody in regards to romance; it was like all and every thought of romance was something you never truly experienced, if you didn't count otome games and dating sims that you always pored over, spent all your time playing and devoting your allowances to new costumes and dialogues from your favorite love interests that made you feel pretty, wanted, and loved.

you never really stood out to anybody, that much you believed was true. you found it hard to see anybody liking you, who avidly wore anime shirts and collected expensive figurines and hung up posters of your favorite game series, cartoons, animes, movies, and shows all over your room. and you don't even wanna bring up the fact that you casually play rpgs whenever you can, wearing the cutest set of headphones that made you stand out in... a rather awkward way–a way you just wish you never got attention from, through stares and stifled chuckles of amusement from others.

you did all you could to ignore the stares, the laughter, the snide comments from girls who thought they were better than you–and you had grown quite used to being alone, to finding solace in games and the internet. and though it wasn't healthy, this was a place you called home; and those characters on your screen that always smiled whenever you chose a good interaction choice, whenever you held them in the right places, they made you feel happy.

but there was another boy who wanted to make you feel happy, a boy who appeared and acted like he came right out of a fairy tale; the male lead in a shoujo manga you never thought you'd live out to be female lead in.

tooru oikawa–the great king of the court, the boy every girl in your year had the hots for. you never really paid that much attention to him because, of course, why would you waste your valuable time and energy on a boy you never knew well, nor would even take an interest in you?

sure, he was your classmate and occasional partner for activities and group works, but his personality always seemed so fake. you knew he was acting like a kind of host boy in a host club, and though you knew guys like that were totally your type, you always kept your guard up around him.

it wasn't like he was going to hurt you, anyway, he was too gallant for that, it seemed. the way a boy like this would only hurt you would be through getting your hopes up that he'd ever like you, and ultimately thank you for being a mere fan and forget your name, maybe laugh about your silly headphones and the way your eyes shone whenever your favorite character called you cute in a dating sim.

but... it was these very qualities that drew oikawa to you.

oikawa had only known you existed for a few months now, since he saw you so often during class as his new seatmate. he knew you weren't anything like the girls that vied for his attention, and it felt like a breath of fresh air for him, not having someone breathe down his neck every few seconds at every little thing he does.

sure, you were a little messy sometimes, a little quiet, a little awkward–a little in your own head most of the time, but it was, in your own unique way, charming. oikawa would instinctively smile to himself whenever you'd get flustered at him asking you for a pencil while you were sneaking to play your otome games on your phone in class, and he'd feel a little proud of you whenever you'd recite in class.

he knew it was hard for you sometimes to show confidence, though he always encouraged you to stand up straight, "you look pretty when you hold your chin up high," he'd always say. of course, you'd sometimes side eye him, and it'd make him a little worried he said something wrong, but it's the fact that you keep oikawa on his toes about how he makes you feel around you that allures him to you even more.

from talking to you during class, he'd bring the conversations outside of class. of course, he'd always carry the conversation while you were trying to beat a really hard boss in your rpgs. he'd cheer you on while he had no idea what was going on–and even the rest of the third years were worried oikawa had some ulterior motives with you, but when they saw how different that usually plastic smile of his was whenever he'd look at you, talk to you, try to get closer with you... it was like there was something out of place there, that got replaced with something purer.

shocking, they know.

"alright, out with it." iwaizumi spat out, hitting oikawa lightly on the shoulder. oikawa looked at iwaizumi curiously. "out with what, iwa-chan?" "are you stupid? you know you can't make her a victim of your charms." when iwaizumi said that, he knew exactly who the her he was referring to was. it was you.

oikawa looked at iwaizumi all pouty, his eyebrows furrowed. "how low do you think of me? i'm not charming her for anything malicious..." "so you're admitting you are making her like you." "i-i never said that!" oikawa retorted, his face getting redder and hotter, his voice getting higher as he was on the brink of admitting the truth.

iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "so why are you doing this, it's clear she has no interest in you." oikawa couldn't argue with iwaizumi's statement, it was true, you didn't look like you had fully trusted oikawa, and that hurt him to a degree nobody, not even he could bear.

"...because i like her. and i want her to trust me." oikawa muttered, looking away from iwaizumi. it was hard for him to admit, but there was no other way to express it without getting totally crushed by his own half truths and half lies. this was the whole, unadulterated truth–tooru oikawa, the great king of the court, liked you.

he liked the way you got flustered whenever your favorite character would say they love you, he liked the way you glared at him when you'd catch on to his flirting, he liked the way you were so knowledgeable on such nerdy things that... he had watched all your favorite movies and animes, and was planning to gift you merch this coming holiday season.

"...well, you have a lot of work to do to prove to her you like her." "no kidding..." oikawa replied with a sigh, at least his best friend supported his crush on you. he knew it might take a while, a very long while–maybe a whole lifetime to prove how much he loved you. but he'd prove it to you, somehow, and he won't ever stop until he shows his little nerdy girl just how much he's serious about her; how much he loves you.

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dejwrld · 8 months

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— in which the heir to the biggest mafia/yakuza in japan is in an arranged marriage with a foreigner & it turns into a wicked jealous filled obsession. inspo from happy together by the turtles

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, her/she pronouns, female pet names, yandere themes, yandere!ushijima, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gore, yakuza/mafia au, choking kink, character death, possessive!ushijima, ooc!ushijima (only said ooc cause he does not act like the way he acts in hq), toxic relationship, ushijima father slaps him in one part, arranged marriage au // minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀this fic won the mystery fanfic repost poll.

HOW COULD SOMEONE’S HANDS FEEL SO COLD? That thought lingered in the back of your mind when you felt Ushijima Wakatoshi’s hand placed on the lower part of your back as you waltzed around the venue. You remembered how his touch felt so cold that it sent a shiver down your spine even though minutes ago you complained about how hot you were in the vintage well-tailored white dress. You never expected your life to change suddenly due to your father. It was a bit comical considering that he got you into this marriage and didn’t even bother to show up to walk you down the aisle.

You felt like a sheep among some vicious hungry wolves. You had no friends in Japan. You had no family in Japan. Just Ushijima and his circle. You couldn’t even contact your family unless they contacted you first. You would think that you were the president’s daughter, but you were only one of the richest men in the world's daughter. That came with consequences. Your life was always under a microscope. Eat this. Dress this way. Don’t date this person. Attend this university. You didn’t actually think you’d be scribbling ‘have an assassination threat on your head’ off your Bingo card.

So here you were, bound with Ushijima Wakatoshi for your safety and the future of your family. You should have known that an arranged marriage was going to be put on the table. Someone would question why a foreigner has been hanging around the notorious family that controls more than eight districts in Japan. You planned to lay low, enjoy your time in Japan, maybe go back to school, and then when your father contacted Ushijima’s father, go back home. But the thing is, you knew that there wasn’t any going back home. For all you know, your father could have been dead. The thing is you knew this marriage wasn’t going to be rainbows and sunshine, Ushijima didn’t even smile as you waltzed down the aisle in a room of strangers. You remembered the deadpan look he gave you, but that last dance is what caused your stomach to form the most horrendous knots as he brought you closer. You could feel his breath trickle at your earlobe before he whispered, “The only one for me is you, and you for me. We both have a lot on the line when it comes to this fuckin’ marriage. We’re stuck with each other, so let’s make sure this work.”

Even though he uttered those words in your ear over two months ago, you and Ushijima just couldn’t work. It wasn’t like you weren’t putting in the effort, you did. You even learned how to cook some of his favorite dishes and even then, you still were met with a harsh cold steel door. You remembered vividly when it seemed like a switch was turned on in his head. You sat in the living room like the pretty wife you were. The diamond ring on your wedding finger glistened under the family mansion light, you hated to admit that Ushijima picked out a beautiful ring when there wasn’t much meaning behind it. You were confused about why you and Ushijima were summoned here in the first place. It wasn’t like you two were doing anything romantic anyway, just you watching the maids cater to him due to him partying the previous night. When you heard the harsh footsteps and your eyes watched as men bowed as the Takashi Utsui entered the room. By the looks of his face, he looked pissed and your mind instantly panicked. You toyed with the ends of your dress as you watch Ushijima stand up with urgency to greet his father.

Your eyes bulged outward when you heard and witnessed the harsh slap Takashi placed against Ushijima’s cheek. The room was so silent and you observed everyone in the room. No one bulged at the action as if it happened before. You watched as one of Takashi’s men rushed to his side handing him a folder. He opened it with urgency revealing the photo of Ushijima in a club the previous night. A woman was on his lap kissing his neck. Your eyes instantly lowered in embarrassment. Even though this marriage had no love, you still felt a form of humiliation.

“What did I tell you before you said I do to that woman right there?” Takashi’s finger points at you.

Ushijima's jaw clenched tightly as if he was holding back an explosive bomb.

“Huh? I can’t seem to hear you.” Takashi stepped forward toward his son. His head tilted to the side as he was trying to hear Ushijima’s words.

“That if I embarrass her, I’m dishonoring my family,” Ushijima said.

“And?” Takashi asked.

“And she’s a part of the family now,” Ushijima said.

Your heart was beating so hard at the word. You watched as Takashi's fingers combed through his hair. He let out a sigh to calm himself down before he’s walking over to you extending his hand for you to take. You hesitantly took it as he helped you up, walking by his angry son to walk into the family garden in the backyard. Your hand grasped at his arm as you walked by his side. The sweet scent of the Cherry Blossom tree that was in their backyard. You remembered Ushijima mentioning that his father got the tree grown in the backyard because his mother adored the scent of when the petals free-fell to the ground. However, even though his parents divorced his father still made sure the tree was taken care of.

“I want you to go out,” His father commented as he was walking around the garden. He could feel your grasp upon his arm tighter, “You’ve been trapped up in the house while my reckless son goes out and embarrasses our family,” He commented.

“I don’t know anyone to go out with sir,” You commented. “I would rather be home, especially considering that it would only be a burden. Do I need to remind you, that I have a hit out on me?” You pointed it out.

You watched as his lips formed a straight line, “Of course. I won’t let you go out alone, you’ll be with my assistant and her friends. Plus, I’m sure I’ll have some men in there if you need them,” he reminded.

You would look at him before simply nodding, not bothering to argue with him once again. “Okay.” was the only thing you said before he let go of your hand.

“Please enjoy your time out. I would hate to have to tell your father you hate it here.” He responded. “You deserve to be happy and I’ll be sure to ensure that.”

You forced a smile on your face which seems like you were doing that a lot. The sweet scent of the cherry blossoms lingered up your nostrils before you were speaking once again, “Okay, thank you.” You gave his arm a squeeze and a kind smile before departing to go back into the luxury home.

You were expecting to be met by Ushijima, but he was nowhere to be found. It didn’t particularly shock you, he got embarrassed in front of everyone. You were expecting to be met with your usual driver who hardly spoke to you unless you spoke to him first but instead was met with Tendou and Kai. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at him, “Let me guess, you’re taking me home.” You sighed and you didn’t get an answer, but you did follow them outside the huge mansion.

When you got in the SUV, you would sit in the back instantly indulging in the things on your phone before you heard Kai’s voice. “He actually does care about you, you know?”

You would shake your head, “Has a funny way of showing it.” You answered.

“But, please do not do something tonight that will upset him,” Tendo warned as his fingertips tapped at the steering wheel.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He gets to go out and act a damn fool, but wants to lose his mind if I do the same,” You kissed your teeth. “I’m going to go out and have so much fun like his father said to do.”

The remaining amount of time in the car was quiet before you were dropped off at the luxury mansion that you resided in. Despite you decorating the huge mansion to your liking, it still didn’t feel like home. You were greeted by one of the maids, and you would only tell her that she could take the day off, especially considering that you believed today was one of her children's birthdays.

“But Mr.—“ The maid's words were cut off by you.

“I will handle him. You guys can have the rest of the day off. Go enjoy your child’s birthday,” You explained as you watched her face light up before she walked away to grab her things.

FOR ONCE YOU WERE ENJOYING YOURSELF. As you were at the bar attempting to flag down one of the bartenders, you could feel a male figure squeeze himself next to you and the countless others at the bar. His tall stature towered over you as you attempted once again to get the bartender’s attention. However, the man interjected whistling and getting the bartender’s attention.

“That’s the trick, to get their attention,” He commented as he gave you a smile that you returned. It was like a bird calling as the bartender flocked to him effortlessly. “This beautiful young woman has been trying to get your attention. I’ve told you guys about not being aware of the customers in front of you.” He warned.

“Sorry sir, it’s a bit hectic back here.” The bartender apologized as his eyes traveled to you. But when he noticed who you were, he looked away with quickness. “What can I get you?”

You would ignore his sudden break of eye contact and begin to list the drinks your section wanted. “Could you get them served to that section also?” You pointed to the section on the left of the club. “Add an extra bottle and just charge it to Ushijima Wakatoshi’s card.”

The gentlemen next to you eyebrows raised as he was trying to mentally put a face to the name that fell off your tongue. You leaned against the bar patiently before speaking, “Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.” You gave him a kind smile as you watched one of the bottle girls load up the drinks on a tray to deliver to the section you were at.

“It’s no problem. We wouldn’t want to disappoint the wife of Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He responded.

You rolled your eyes hearing that statement, which the man caught instantly. “Is there a problem? Are you—”

Your words cut him off with a quickness. “It’s not a problem. I am his wife after all, but I just hate that here that’s all I’m known for.” You said to the gentlemen.

You understood that it was for the best for a lot of people to know who you were, but being known as the wife of a man who didn’t even take the marriage seriously himself felt even worst. You had so much more power than people expected, but here you were in an unknown world not being able to use that power.

You thanked the stranger once again before attempting to go back to the section, but you felt him tug you back towards him. He lets out a firm sigh before extending his hand toward you. “Let’s start over, I’m Lev Haiba. I own this club.” His hand motioned around the crowds of people in the nightclub.

You couldn’t help but snicker as you shook his head. “Y/N, heir to the biggest oil company in the world.” You answered. “But that has to stay between us.” You gave Lev a playful smirk and he only held his hand up in a defensive mode.

“Your secret is safe with me. I hope Japan is treating you well considering the uh—circumstances.” Lev says.

You could hear the pity in his voice. “I’m assuming you’ve heard the news of my loving husband?” You asked as the two of you were walking towards the section you were in.

“Everyone did. It was this club he was spotted doing said activities. However, it’s Ushijima Wakatoshi, no one is going to ruin his mood.” Lev admitted as he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “But I have said too much, I should get back to my job. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, once again feeling like the sheep in a field filled with wolves as you sat down in one of the chairs. You instantly picked up the drink wanting to drink the night away.

WHEN YOU RETURNED HOME, you dropped your YSL heels on the floor as you stumbled into the house. You glanced at your phone and saw that it was four in the morning. You couldn’t believe that you stayed out so late. You definitely were going to have to rain check with the afternoon tea session with Ushijima’s mother. You attempted to tiptoe your way further inside the house not wanting to wake Ushijima (if he was home). You were aware that on some occasions Ushijima men would be at your house. It didn’t shock you that they were here in your living room doing god knows what. However, the weird feeling under the bottom of your feet caused you to instantly sober up. It felt wet, slightly slippery. You glanced down and your eyes grew big at the sight you were seeing. You had stepped in a small splatter of blood that decorated the thin plastic layer that was on the floor. Your heart rate increased instantly as you stumbled back in a horrified panic to be met with Ushijima catching you from falling.

“I—“ Your words were stuck in your throat. Your hands were shaking harshly and your heart felt like it was trying to claw out your chest. Your eyes stared at your husband as the crimson-colored liquid stained the white Versace button-down shirt.

“It’s good to know you’ve made it home safely. Now let’s go get cleaned up. We’re both in need of a shower anyway.” He firmly said.

You felt Ushijima grab hold of your forearm. His blood-covered fingertips stained your brown skin. “But we have guests.” You stuttered out.

“That’s fine, they will be busy cleaning up the mess that you made,” Ushijima confirmed.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you were being tugged into the shared bedroom. With urgency, Ushijima closed the door behind him. “Strip.” was the only thing he said as his hands went up to unbutton the buttons on his shirt.

You did what you were told, letting the dress you wore fall to the ground. You crossed your arms over your chest preventing Ushijima from seeing you like this. You didn’t even notice that he had already stripped out of his expensive clothing. You could sense him towering over you before you finally croaked out some words, “You said my mess? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Goosebumps decorated your skin when you felt Ushijima’s fingertips tracing alongside your side. His fingertips engraved you with the possible sin he just committed before you arrived home. He stopped right at the soft fabric of the thong you wore, letting out a low hum before pushing them down. You didn’t argue against his action. You weren’t sure if you were too afraid to or if you just wanted to see where this would go. You stepped out of your underwear before watching Ushijima disappear into the bathroom. The sound of the shower could be heard before his voice broke you out of your broken thoughts. Like an obedient dog, you walked into the bathroom with your hands still attempting to cover your bare body. Ushijima was already in the hot steaming shower washing over the blood that was on him. “I’ve already seen you vulnerable before, remember our wedding night?” He asked. “There’s no need to hide your body away from me.” He answered.

“You never responded to what I said. What mess have I created? You’re the one that’s going out every night and acting a fool,” You reminded him.

Ushijima let out a sigh, “Just get in the fuckin’ shower and we can talk.” He says, “Please.”

Hearing him say please was a shock to you, you took a couple of steps forward opening the door of the walk-in shower to join him. In a different world, such an intimate moment would have your stomach flowing with butterflies. But right now, your stomach could only twist in dangerous knots while you let the steaming hot water heat your body. “Did you have fun last night?” Ushijima asked.

Your eyes met with his as you felt the warm cloth filled with soap brush against your body. He was kind enough to clean you himself. Similar to a doll maker creating a doll, you felt that’s what Ushijima was doing. You were his doll as soon as you walked down the aisle clutching onto his father’s arm. “I did. It was nice to not be bottled up in his house. It can get lonely sometimes,” You answered.

“You have the maids, it can’t be that lonely,” He responded.

That was true. During your time living here, you managed to get to know each of the eight maids and two groundskeepers that worked to make sure Ushijima’s home looked nice. But it still felt lonely, cold. It didn’t feel like a home.

“Although, I appreciate their help around the place. It’s not the same.” You answered as your finger went up to motion for the young man to turn so you could wash his back. “You know this. I’m not asking for much, but can we at least pretend we’re enjoying this marriage.”

“I’m actually enjoying this marriage,” Ushijima responded with a chuckle.

“You have such a weird way to show it. Going out every night, being seen with other women—“ You stopped abruptly to let out a weary sigh. Not sure if the sudden feeling of being lightheaded came from the hotness of the shower or the fact that you’re finally voicing your opinions to Ushijima. “It’s humiliating.”

Ushijima didn’t say much about your words. The two of you continued to shower in silence before eventually getting out of it. At this point, you had sobered as you toyed with the ends of the soft white rob Ushijima put you in. You watched as Ushijima waltzed back into the bedroom, “Well, let me show that I will change.”

Your body leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom bathroom, “Sex really can’t show me anything. Changed behavior though,” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Come on, when was the last time we actually had sex.”

“You’re deflecting from the original conversation Ushi,” You sighed as you walked towards the dresser to find something to wear.

As you were searching for something to sleep in, you could feel Ushijima’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He tugged you closer to his body and you felt the growing boner poking at the fatness of your butt. “You haven’t called me Ushi since our wedding night.” He commented.

“You’re so annoying.” You sighed, but you didn’t bulge out his touch. “We both were drunk as ever that night. I can’t believe you still remember that.”

“Of course, I remembered it. You moaned it so beautifully while your head was buried into a pillow,” Ushijima reminded you as you felt his lips press against the exposed skin on your neck.

You felt your skin grow hotter with each harsh nibble, lick, and bite on your neck. One of Ushijima’s hands disappeared inside your robe and straight in between your thighs. His index and middle fingers swiped at your wet folder and indulged in how wet you were while you seemed to melt into his touch. “You don’t remember, hmm? How your thighs couldn’t stop shaking once we were done?” He asked as his fingertips that were covered in your wetness would rub at your clit. “How you wet up the sheets so badly?”

You made direct eye contact with Ushijima in the mirror that was connected to the dresser. The once softness that was in his eyes for a split second was gone. You weren’t particularly super religious, but you were sure you were looking into the eyes of the devil. He undid your rob and tugged it off your bare body causing you to gasp suddenly. Your thighs quivered for more as you felt your own wetness stain the inside of your thighs. Ushijima stopped the subtle circular motion on your clit before he’s talking once again. “Tell me you remember that and I’ll help you cum,” His words tickled your earlobe and you nodded instantly.

“I remember. Ushi—“ You desperately coughed up those words. “I remember.”

“Good,” Ushijima said while the grip around your waist grew tighter. “Now be a good wife and go to the bed and get on all fours, darling.”

You did what you were told, being sure to grab a pillow to make yourself feel more comfortable. The anticipation bubbling into your stomach as you could sense Ushijima behind you. When you felt him tug you closer to the bed, you swallowed the large lump forming in your throat. Your cunt so eager to swallow his cock bit by bit even though you were sure he wasn’t going to be so gentle. When you felt the tip of Ushijima’s cock enter you, you chewed at your lower lip getting ready for him to instantly bottom down inside you. The faint memory of your wedding night when he specifically praised you on how well you took his dick swirled around your head.

This time he took his time. Pushing his cock inside you slowly, teasingly, until you were gasping for him to put it all the way in. His large hands grasped at your waist before his hips begin to drive forward to be met with the soft flesh of your butt. Your head buried into the pillow caging in your moans before Ushijima grabbed the pillow and tossed it. “I need my men to hear you while they’re cleaning up your mess.” He said firmly.

His fingers buried into the flesh of your skin while the sound of skin slapping against each other could be heard. Ushijima was in a complete trace as he watched his cock disappear into your addicting cunt. “Go ahead, moan out how good Ushi is making you feel while they clean up your mess.” He said through gritted teeth.

“What mess?” You hiccuped out through moans. Your eyesight grew blurry due to the tears that accumulated through Ushijima’s thrusts.

You let out a yelp when Ushijima grabbed a hold of your head tugging you upward. His chest pressed against your sweat-coated back before he let go of your hand to use that hand to snake around to your neck. “Don’t act foolish Y/N.” He answered.

You could feel Ushijima’s cock twitch inside you as he stopped his thrusts abruptly. His hand wrapped around your neck and you could feel him give it a slight squeeze before his thrusting continued. “You know my doll. When you press your thumb in someone’s windpipe, index finger to their carotid artery, and your middle finger applies pressure to their jugular vein…they’ll lose consciousness.” Ushijima said.

The heat of the moment of your breath grasping away for a couple of seconds due to Ushijima mimicking the same thing he just told her, he let go of you and shoved your face further into the fluffiness of the mattress. “Even when I nearly took your breath away, you only clutched around my cock even tighter.” He said darkly.

His words sent a bone chilling shiver down your spine as you moaned out helplessly. “Ushi!” You moaned out.

His thrusting only continued, ignoring your little whimpers before he leaned over placing wet kisses on the middle of your spine. “You know that only makes a person lose consciousness, but if you continue you can damage the cortex of your brain which leads to your death.” He uttered as he was thrusting.

His chest heaved upwards as he traced his name upon your skin. “It took less than 6 minutes for your little friend Lev to finally fuckin’ die when I wrapped my hands around his throat.” He said through groans. You could feel his thrusting grow sloppy, he was about to cum.

“I had to clean up your mess Y/N,” he said.

You felt yourself orgasm immediately. The dangerous shiver that went though your body made your body go into complete shock. Your gasping out for Ushijima. The thought of him killing a man that talked to you pushed you to the edge. Perhaps you did flutter around his cock even more at the sound of those words coming out his mouth. Ushijima still fucked you through the explosive orgasm until he too was cumming mess, not bothering to pull out either. Filling you up to the brim with his cum just to trap you as his.

He let your body collapse on the bed like a rag doll. You were completely out of breath with his cum leaking out of you and when you met his eyes, they were soft once again.

“We’re starting a clean slate starting now. No more outside interferences when it comes to our marriage. We’re going to be happy together if we like it or not.” He said as he leaned down to place a kiss upon your temple.

“Now get some rest, my doll, we have tea with my mother in about eight hours.”

You really were still a sheep upon the family of wolves.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #angelshubnetwork #chosoistkinktober23 #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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the-travelling-witch · 2 months

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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body.

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media.

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings.

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer. Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy.

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable.

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform.

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes.

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality.

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine.

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him.

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#twisted wonderland #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst fluff #twst jade #jade leech x reader #jade leech fluff #jade leech #disney twst #twst

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toshiirou · 1 year

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racism in Nintendo 2: electric boogaloo

hello and welcome back it is i, once more. to talk about the elephant in the room that has reappeared in the release of the totk designs. a suspiciously green elephant i might say

this is of course about ganon

i have made a few posts before about ganon - about how it's not anti-racist to 'redeem' his role as an all-evil villain by sexualising him; about the fan response to the first totk trailer and the rehydrated ganondorf trend; and how other characters (namely link) do not get the same treatment that ganon gets for similar design features.

what i want to give today is a more straightforward explanation of 1. why it is bad that ganon is green (yes, it is in fact bad) and 2. the orientalism inherent in his totk design. i know a lot of people find him hot, and might become defensive that i'm pointing out features that they enjoy. the fact of the matter is that the sexualisation of totk ganon is done by deliberately playing upon erotic orientalist tropes and this is something that shouldn't be ignored for personal comfort.

so to start. the green skin. im going to quote an article called Greenface: Exploring green skin in contemporary Hollywood cinema by Brady Hammond, which can be summed up by the arguement in the

"article [is] that as overtly racist cinematic depictions associated with real-world skin colors – particularly black skin – have decreased, Hollywood cinema has relocated those tropes onto green skin."

and I agree. I've talked about coding before in relation to loz, and it is no stretch to consider that a character can be representative of some particular demographic(s) without replicating their features in their entirety.

Without doubt it is straightforward to say that ganon represents a brown or black man. The gerudo are heavily inspired by the SWANA region, and not to mention that most of the gerudo indeed have a brown skin tone. botw having lighter and darker skinned gerudo is still representative of the SWANA region and the variety of looks we have there.

and thus coding done with ganon's design - intentional or otherwise - cannot escape the racial implications that ganon is very clearly a brown or black man. which means negative coding that coincides with preexisting racist coding and racial stereotypes will carry those same racist undertones. none of it is undermined by that nintendo is a Japanese company or that this is a fictional world in a video game. deliberate design choices made by real people can't be absolved from racism when it's convenient

to start:

"David Batchelor states that ‘color has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture’. This prejudice, he argues, manifests itself by either dismissing color outright as ‘superficial’ or by denigrating it and ‘[making it] out to be the property of some “foreign” body – usually the feminine, the oriental, the primitive, the infantile, the vulgar, the queer or the pathological’."

and

"More importantly, given the ability of the cinema screen to render fantastic spaces and colors it is necessary to consider how characters are represented when they feature an unnatural or even impossible skin color."

the gerudo have always had an orientalist lens laid over them. ganon has always had strong animalistic associations, and has appeared non-human a number of times. this was fine before nintendo retconned him to specifically be a brown man from a group that are explicitly human in the same way that hylians are human and other round-eared people in the loz franchise are human. it is racist to seperate the gerudo exclusively from other human groups as having explicitly non-human characteristics given their prolific role as the first group of brown humans in tloz, and the most foreign and exoticized group of humans.

to give ganon green skin is thusly, a way that implicitly denies his humanity. and it becomes pointed when this primitive and animalistic coding occurs most frequently to the brown man villain. now that totk revived ganon as a humaoid it becomes more pointed that he's denied the same human skintone of the rest of the gerudo, and it's quite frankly upsetting to see this happen and to be glossed over.

more specifically. green has preexisting racist associations for black and brown characters specifically. that is because green has long been used in media to depict the racialised other by linking them with real world negative racist stereotypes. an example given in the article "in Star Trek (1966-1969) when an alien woman of the Orion race dances. Her skin is an emerald green and she is both hyper-feminine and an alien Other." not commented upon but which is more evidence to the racial stereotyping of green skin is that the orion woman is depicted in a distinctly orientalist manner: with a hypersexualized outfit and routine that is reminiscent of belly dancer fantasies. the low light, setting choices, and recurring theme of the slave women dancing provocatively plays upon the western imaginations of the Harem.

as you can see:

other examples of the green other include orcs (with their own swath of racial stereotypes), the grinch, aliens, gremlins, goblins, etc. what often occurs is that green characters are concurrently linked to ethnic stereotypes through coding that is brought together in the fantasy realm by their green skin. that coding may include racism, orientalism, xenophobia, antisemitism, anti-indigenous stereotypes or so on. it is clear that ganon representing a brown/black man brings with it negative coding in the game as the only villain, his animalistic associations, his domineering violence that stands apart from the primarily female gerudo, and as the racialised other. this coding would still exist if he was not green. but it is an affront to dignity to remove the humanity of a brown man by also making him green.

if i have not yet lost you then to wrap up: the fetishizing other. as established with his coding, ganon's humanity is put into question with his design, and he can be linked to the SWANA region. evocative of a harem is the only (violent and dangerous) man from a group of women who are hidden away, and is explicitly a danger to both them and western/hylian rule and ideology.

His imagery is paired with similar design choices made for the gerudo women to sexualize him and invoke imagery of the sexy orient, the beast that can be tamed, and so on. This is done primarily with his torso being bare while he wears gold jewelry, in a way almost reminiscent of chains or cuffs. brown and black men are fetishized through sexualising them as erotic beasts, which is clear to the image that totk ganon's design presents. even the toe rings play into this - as a practice with a long history in India as worn by married women (and men, in Tamil culture).

much akin to the face veil for women, brown and black men are often sexualised through (usually gold) jewelry. specifically (like with the veil) the juxtaposition between their lack of full covering (bare torso is most common) and the abundance of ornamental jewelry. it shows their body as this exotic, decorated prize, where their nudity is highlighted by what they do wear. [this remains true despite the real world groups in the swana region that have traditionally topless outfits for men. that sort of respectful and researched depiction of cultural outfits it not what is happening here, clearly]

[note: there are clear elements of ganon's outfit that have a noticeable influence of the samurai, and the outfit is not exclusively made from one source. however the features of the outfit that i am mentioning, the jewellery, toe ring, even the trousers, are not part of the samurai aspect. it is in conjunction with the other coding and features that ganon having a bare torso becomes anything more significant]

which all goes to say that totk ganon's design continues Nintendo's legacy of racism. He is simultaneously dehumanised and sexualised - which only serves to further his dehumanisation. I am not going to ask for or address his role as a villain, what I want is just a modicum of respect.

#totk ganon #gerudo #gerudo tag #moya's loz thoughts #legend of salty #txt #if u don't know me im not open to feedback but block me and move on with your life

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punksocks · 11 months

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Astrology Observations No.17

*just my opinions, only take what resonates

-Combine your Venus and rising for something you love to do and how you do it. I like to travel somewhere new (Sagittarius Venus) and start completely fresh (Scorpio rising)

A Leo Rising, Libra venus may like to be the center of attention in a new relationship and may be inspired to create with new love; a Cancer Venus, Virgo rising may really decompress by organizing their home; etc

-How come so many comedians have sun conjunct Mercury?? I’m guessing the charisma you gain when you speak from the placement and also being able to like cleverly convey what you mean. (Also heavy Sag placements bc ofc. But also a lot of Virgo/Gemini/Scorpio placements as well)

-Aquarius suns are more competitive than Leo suns imo. I think when Aqua suns compete they often ride on their intelligence so that ups the stakes for them.

-Leo suns have a very like specific approach you gotta take if you’re gonna critique them though. They’re sensitive and they are not going to take criticism from just anyone. They get sensitive about personal experiences over general competition compared to Aquarius suns imo.

-I think out of all the signs either Aquarius or Scorpio suns are the most proud of their sign. (My mom used to compete with me to name Aquarius characters and celebrities and throw Capricorns she didn’t like in my face. When I was like 8. It was too much lol)

-I think Leo suns pride typically themselves on pop culture knowledge to some degree (like keeping up with critically acclaimed films and shows)(I think this applies to Leo Asc and moon as well)

-Wherever Pisces is can highlight where you need to take care of your mental health.Pisces moon can indicate being very emotionally affected by your family and general environment. Pisces Venus can indicate being affected by your relationships and friendships. In general Pisces/Neptune means a detachment but also being vulnerable to illusions and energies other than your own.

-Capricorn can show where you need to find the strength to stand up for yourself. Capricorn moons have to defend their emotionality. Capricorn suns have to defend their sense of self. Capricorn Mercury may find themselves in several debates over things they believe in.

-Sagittarius can show where you are attractive to foreigners* (meaning people you travel to/that are outside of your culture) Sag Asc/Sun/Venus or Sun/Venus in the 9th house could point to being charismatic and attracting friends when you travel.

-Chiron hard aspects (conjunct, square, opposition) to moon can make you a very private person

-Saturn in Cancer could indicate trouble with an emotionally unstable father or father figure

-Virgo placements (Sun, Moon, Rising, Mercury, Venus, Mars) don’t just like to complain, they need to complain to blow off steam by highlighting all the little inefficiencies of life. Sometimes it’s worse to offer a solution to their complaints (I’ve definitely done this before lol)

-I think Aquarius suns like having unpopular opinions on popular things. Aquarius moons will go for more obscure/underground stuff. Gemini/3rd house moons or 3rd house Jupiter or like Gemini/Virgo mars can go super deep on those topics. (Ex. My Aquarius moon dad showed me indie movies when I was younger but when I showed him and my siblings Everything Everywhere All At Once and called it artsy and didn’t understand it lol, but like my ex was a Virgo mars and we would watch 10 movies from an obscure surrealist 60s Japanese director just for kicks.)

#astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #astro community #scorpio #aquarius #capricorn #pisces #gemini #astrology #cancer #Saturn #Leo #Sagittarius

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tragedybunny · 5 months

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Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind.

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong.

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together.

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance.

Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias.

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.”

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew.

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight.

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination.

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck.

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him.

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him.

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.”

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!”

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him.

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect.

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.”

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.”

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink.

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear.

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer.

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh.

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her.

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad.

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions.

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?”

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together.

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head.

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise.

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt.

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire.

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution.

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was.

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit.

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply.

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.”

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans.

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone.

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him.

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips.

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face.

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect.

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her.

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle?

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.”

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything.

Tag list:

@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 tav: Serafina #my fanfic #my writing #astarion x oc

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facets-and-rainbows · 5 months

Text

In honor of Blue Exorcist season 3, I need everyone to appreciate the

ABSOLUTE

UNMITIGATED

FURIGANA

NONSENSE

that is going on in its pv.

Like, background info: in Japanese they have both phonetic characters (kana) and characters with both a sound AND a meaning (kanji). Sometimes they put little kana above/next to the kanji to tell you how to pronounce them - these are called furigana and they're mostly used for obscure kanji that most people don't know, or in things aimed at young readers who might not know that many kanji in general yet.

But sometimes people get...creative with furigana. Especially in manga and light novels and the like.

See, at some point people figured out that you can totally create words with double meanings, or say one thing and mean another, by using furigana that don't actually match the kanji they're with. Some examples:

In Blue Exorcist, Rin's "flame" is spelled 炎（ちから）- the kanji says "flame(s)" but the furigana is the word "power." Rin's power, aka flames. Two words for the price of one!

Things with names in foreign languages will often have kanji that show the word's meaning in Japanese with furigana that spell out the pronunciation, like the "exorcist" in Blue Exorcist being spelled 祓魔師（エクソシスト). Those kanji mean exorcise-demon-professional, roughly, and they'd normally be pronounced futsumashi. But the furigana say "ekusoshisuto" - the English word "exorcist."

@29rynoah has a great post [here] (Blue Exorcist manga spoilers!) about a time when Rin said "you" but actually meant "me," and spelled it 俺（おまえ）with the kanji for "me" and furigana spelling out "you."

And then there's the EGREGIOUS FURIGANA SHENANIGANS happening up there in the season 3 pv. Where they take the kanji for darkness 闇 and tell us to pronounce it as THE WHOLE OTHER COMPLETELY OPPOSITE KANJI 光 (LIGHT) and vice versa.

闇（光）を斬り、光（闇）を祓え

Meaning something like:

Slash through the darkness light and dispel the light darkness

Presumably because the dark forces threatening the main characters this arc are actually quite bright, as we shall see.

Clever! But also RIDICULOUS GUYS COME ON

#blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #hype train to shimane #furigana shenanigans #闇 doesn't want to be in that small a font it needs a bigger enclosure this is cruelty to kanji

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shattered-eagle · 4 days

Text

Shattered Eagle: Fall of an Empire

Demo (156k WIP, 6/05/2024) | Forum

You are an advisor in a declining empire, beset by unrest, barbarians, and forces beyond your comprehension. Can you save the empire from doom?

Explore a fictional world inspired by the late Roman Empire.

Be male or female, cisgender or transgender, straight, gay, bisexual or asexual.

Serve the imperial family dutifully, or secure your own rise to power.

Choose from up to five careers, from a veteran of the legion to a shadowy spymaster.

Learn the secrets of sorcery or untangle the ancient mysteries behind the Empire.

Navigate the viper’s nest of imperial politics to find allies or paramours, including the empress herself, a cunning senator, a ruthless crime boss, a barbarian general, or a foreign prince.

SETTING SYNOPSIS

Through over five centuries of conquest, the Iudian Empire has come to rule the Inner Sea, becoming the most powerful realm in the known world.

From the western hills of Ezperia, the northern forests of Hevernica, the sophisticated cities of Attika, the eastern deserts of Midyan, and the southern rivers of Seyet, all fell before what the world calls the Iudian Sorceresses, the women who wield fire itself against their enemies. For it is indeed women who rule in Iudia, as ordained by the mother goddess Gaia herself.

Yet, the Empire is not without troubles, and her glory days seem past her. Crippling civil wars, endemic corruption and ceaseless invasion have all contributed to the woes of the once great Empire.

Threats old and new rear their heads in times such as these. A resurgent Pharia, the Empire’s old eastern rival, threatens to seize the eastern provinces. Civil unrest has escalated in the capital of the capital, the flames fanned by an increasingly bold criminal underground.

The greatest danger may come from the north, however. Beyond the cold barbarian lands comes a enemy you have only heard rumor of, the Witch King of the Ongi. It is said the warrior rides at the head of a massive host, wielding great magic that has united all the tribes of the far steppe together out of fear of his power. He has called a holy war against the Empire, claiming it as a nation of demons to be cleansed from the earth.

Will you hold the Empire steady in her time of crisis, claw your way to power, or seek to solve ancient mysteries? The fate of Iudia is in your hands.

MAJOR CHARACTERS

Empress Julia Vitallia Hevernica (48F)

A harsh woman who forced the Empire back together with blood and steel, Julia has reigned as Empress for a decade. She is a strong military leader and a pious woman, who frequently prays to the Goddess for guidance. She is cruel towards her enemies, but possesses a certain pragmatic streak, and has invested much of her authority in you so that you might govern the Empire while she wages war.

Consul Consentia Plinia Dorica (55F)

The leader of the now-sidelined Senate, the ancient legislature of grandiose aristocrats which once governed the Empire alone, Consentia is bent on advocating for what she sees as the fundamental rights of the public and restoring the power of the old Republic. She is a passionate orator and the wealthiest woman in the Empire, barring the Empress herself, and has struck a deal with the crime lord Ceto in order to gain the support of the masses for her reforms.

Tribune Ceto Vera (43F)

Coming up from the poorest slums of the capital, Ceto is the Empire’s most notorious crime lord, ruling the streets by both spreading out her ill-gotten gains to the people and making brutal examples out of those who refuse to acknowledge her authority. Lately, she has entered politics and become a staunch advocate for the rights of the common people, forming an uneasy alliance with the Consul to push back against the ever encroaching imperial autocracy.

Legate Antonius Lethungius/Amalrik Wulfhid (40M)

Born to an imperial mother who named him Antonius and a barbarian father who named him Amalrik, the Legate is a man caught between two bitterly opposed worlds. A skilled and charismatic general, he has won the steadfast loyalty of the Empire's barbarian auxiliaries with his victories on the field of battle, yet his true loyalties remain unknown. Is he a dutiful man of the Empire, or a proud, unbowed barbarian?

Prince Darius of Pharia (33M)

Darius, third son of the great King of Kings, serves in the imperial capital as the ambassador and hostage from the eastern realm of Pharia, the Empire’s oldest and most powerful rival. Over the past decade and half, however, Darius has become more than a mere captive, having established great wealth and influence in the capital with his charm and wit, and is now a major power player in his own right.

CONTENT WARNING

These themes and depictions are present in the current demo, or are planned to be present in the final product.

Depictions of violence & warfare (including gore), references to torture, sexual references and themes, drug & alcohol abuse, physical & emotional abuse, sexism, suicide, slavery, homophobia, & transphobia.

UPDATE LOG

04/14/2024: Chapter I (50k Words | 18k Playthrough) 05/07/2024: Chapter II (105k Words | 39k Playthrough) 06/05/2024: Chapter III (156k Words | 59k Playthrough)

#hosted games #dashingdon #interactive novel #interactive fiction #choice of games #if wip #shattered eagle #choicescript #wip game #cyoa game #cog wip #shattered eagle: fall of an empire

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the-writer-arrived · 7 months

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A Wish Within Reach

Synopsis: his current life is something wriothesley had never imagined he could have. however, there are things he yearns oh-so-dearly to have that are still out of reach... or so he thought.

Character: wriothesley.

Warnings: gn!reader; established relationship; hurt & comfort; spoilers about wrio's past and voicelines; nightmares; imagery of death and blood (not reader's or wrio's).

A/N: i am so in love with this man, his 'more about wriothesley: v' hurt me so much, i wish to give him all the love he deserves. i talked with a friend about how wrio probably 'froze' most of the bad memories and thoughts of his past to not affect him so obviously, that's why he can say such worrying things so nonchalantly :'( please be happy for your birthday, my love 🥹

P.S: also, in a lighter note, please feast your eyes with eriimyon's good morning series, you're welcome.

It's dark, very dark. Wriothesley can barely see what's around him.

Where am I?

The air is completely still, as if everything is holding their breath in waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

For something terrible to happen.

Suddenly, a bright light blinds him, followed by a loud sound of something popping too close to his face.

"Happy birthday ••••••!"

Wriothesley's stomach churns. That was the name he had long abandoned. Those were the voices he hadn't heard in years.

Voices he shouldn't be hearing anymore.

Blinking to adjust to the newly lit room, a kitchen foreign and yet so familiar, he settles his stare at the two people he shouldn't be seeing anymore.

"...Is something wrong ••••••?"

"Are you feeling alright, son?"

Son... I'm nobody's son.

The hand reached out to him is slapped away harshly, causing the woman to gasp in shock.

"••••••! How could you do this to your--!"

"SHUT UP! NOT ANOTHER WORD!!"

His voice booms over theirs, filled with hatred. Strangely, it sounded... different. Younger.

He looks to the side and saw a reflection of himself in a mirror: a boy staring back at him, his chest heaving, eyes blown wide with fear and a bloodied knife on his hand.

His attention snaps back to the scene before him, the cake with candles and birthday decorations are a stark contrast to the two dead bodies on the floor.

It's too much, too real, too vivid.

The smell, the scene, the hatred, the fear.

It's suffocating.

"...io! ...rling ..ak ...up!"

Someone please make it stop!

----------

"Wriothesley!"

Blue eyes shoot open, hand grabbing tightly whatever it was reaching for his face in reflex.

"It's okay, Wrio, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe now."

The gentle voice manages to ground him, his eyes meeting your concerned expression. His grip relaxes, bringing your hand to cup his cheek to place a kiss inside your palm, an apology.

"...Sorry, did I wake you up, sweetheart?"

"It's fine, I had to go to the bathroom earlier, so I was already up." You observe the way your lover's chest move up and down quickly and the way the hand cupping yours is slightly clammy. "Bad dream?"

"...Yeah." Wriothesley closes his eyes, allowing a beat of silence to hang in the air, before elaborating. "Sigewinne scolded me for drinking too much tea, saying it wasn't healthy, and declared I should only drink her milkshakes for now on. Terrifying, right?"

That is an obvious lie, he knows. Totally unbefitting of someone in his position as the Duke, who is always five steps ahead of anyone. He knows. And he knows that you know he's lying through his teeth.

"Terrifying indeed..." You pull your hand away from his grasp to gently hold it instead, thumb caressing his knuckles. "But it's okay now, I'm here."

But, with you, he isn't the all knowing Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, Lord Incognito of the murky depths or whatever fancy title people give him. He is Wriothesley, a human like any other, who is plagued by nightmares from time to time. And who is blessed to have such a kind lover by his side, that chooses to play along with his weak excuse instead of pressing for answers.

"Say..." Your tone of voice makes him open his eyes again, curious to know what's on your mind. "I suddenly feel like having a cup of tea right now... Would you like to join me?"

"Drinking tea at..." Wriothesley stops, propping himself up with his elbows to glance at the clock on the bedside table. "2 in the morning doesn't sound very healthy, don't you think? The Head Nurse would surely scold us."

"Then we need to keep this a secret from her." You shrug, your smile bright even in the darkness of the bedroom. "Well?"

He doesn't even need to answer out loud, already getting up from the bed and pulling you along towards the kitchen.

----------

"Sweetheart, do we still have that jam you bought the other day?"

"I guess so. It should be in the fridge."

As your beloved always says, tea is best served with something sweet on the side, even if it's very late at night. Surely Sigewinne won't mind, right? ...Not that she'll find out about it.

Wriothesley opens the fridge, hoping to find that delicious jam imported from Sumeru you got recently, only for his eyes to fall onto a cake.

Happy birthday Wriothesley!

Happy birthday ••••••!

The names begin to mix in his vision as he stares at the writing on the cake, those cursed voices from his nightmare coming back to ring inside his ears.

"Did you find it, love?" You ask while you finish pouring the hot water inside the matching mugs (one of a wolf and the other of a bunny) and letting the teabags to brew for a little bit. "Wrio?"

Hearing no response coming from the man, you turn around to find him just standing in front of the fridge as if hypnotized by something, gripping its handle a bit too tightly.

"...Wrio, are you okay?" You carefully place your hand on his arm and you watch as his unfocused eyes return to normal, blinking a few times before glancing at you. "What's wrong?"

"Ah, sorry, I got distracted by this." He points to something, opening the door more so you can see it, and Wriothesley has to cover his mouth to stop a chuckle at how big your eyes become at the sight of the cake.

"Shit, I forgot to cover it?!" He feels slightly bad watching the way you deflate. "It was supposed to be a surprise for later..."

"Hey, it's okay, I still got surprised. I had completely forgotten today was my birthday."

Listen, he swears he said that hoping it would cheer you up a little, that the surprise you had prepared wasn't ruined like you thought. But, seeing you frown further, now directed at him, he starts to think that wasn't a good idea.

Your lover opens his mouth, ready to apologize again, but you beat him to it.

"Since the cat's out of the bag now, I might as well roll with it..." Your expression changes from upset to determined and Wriothesley always marvels at how you can bounce back into action. "I have a few things I wish to tell you. Will you listen to me, Wrio?"

You could ask for the stars in the sky and he would ask how many of them you would want. Listening to you talk is something he'll gladly do forever, if it's up to him.

He sits on one of the kitchen stools, pulling you to stand between his legs and patiently waits for you to begin, his thumbs rubbing your knuckles and offering you a relaxed smile.

With a deep breath, you squeeze his hands to signal you are ready and start speaking the words coming from the depths of your heart.

"...You always says that the less people see of you, the happier their lives are. While I get where you're coming from, that has never worked for me."

"Ever since we first met, I've had this feeling of wanting to see you again. Again, while I understand the air of intimidation helps with being the warden and all that, you don't match the description of a dangerous man people have when talking about the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide... Especially when I catch your gloves and back filled with Melusine stickers~"

That last part makes Wriothesley huff, which, in turn, makes you laugh.

"The more time I spent with you, the more I got to know about the man behind the title of Duke... The more greedy I'd become. I'd wonder when I would have the next opportunity to visit you, to have tea with you, to watch you fight at the Pankration... Until I started to wish to be by your side as more than a friend."

"And when you started to open up to me, allowing me to treat your wounds, telling me about your worries and even about your past, that wish of mine only grew."

"...I know life has been cruel to you, ever since you were little. You went through things no one, much less a child, should experience..."

You pause, feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes and a lump in your throat. You take another deep breath, your hands moving to your beloved's cheeks.

"But I want you to know that I am so, so glad you were born into this world. I'm so blessed to be by your side."

Wriothesley's breath hitches, his heart beating a bit too hard for comfort and his hands shake a little. In a way, it's the same reaction he had during his nightmare, but the feeling this time is far, very far from being fear.

It's love.

A love so deep and strong for you it's nearly painful. The kind of pain he wishes to feel for the rest of his life.

"...I want to make my wish now. Can we light up a candle on the cake, sweetheart?"

"...Huh?" You blink once, twice, three times... "You want... to make a wish? Now?!"

"What? You're not going to deny the birthday boy, are you?"

It's your turn to huff now. You could never deny him, not when he always does so much for you.

You place the cake on the table before him and observe with great interest as the flame of the candle lighting Wriothesley's handsome face, eyes closed in concentration before blowing out the small flame. He then opens his eyes to look at you.

"Want to know that I wished for?"

Truth to be told, you do. You'd love to know what could it be that he desires so much that he couldn't wait until later. Despite that, you shake your head.

"No, it's fine. It won't become true if you say it out loud."

By the Seven, you look so adorable, saying that so seriously despite it being just a superstition. He can't help but tease you lovingly.

"But I didn't wish for anything."

Silence. Only you blinking owlishly at your lover.

"Then why did you even want to light a candle for?!"

"Ouch, hey now! You shouldn't hit the birthday boy!" The man has the audacity to laugh, easily holding your fists in place to stop you from hitting him. "I didn't wish for anything, but I wanted to say thanks to someone."

"Thanks? To whom?"

"...To whatever deity that took pity on me and was benevolent enough to grace me with their most perfect angel."

Your cheeks flush in no time, his eyes full of adoration making you feel bashful.

"Oh, stop it. I'm no angel!"

"Hmm, yeah. On second thought, you're right." He grins and pulls you into his embrace. "You're probably a deity then, rather than an angel."

"Wrio!"

"What? Shocked that I've uncovered your secret?" He chuckles at you rolling your eyes, not missing the way you bite your lips to stop a smile.

"Seriously speaking now, I do consider you as someone incredibly special. Thanks to you, I've achieved things I could never have done by myself, like being able to trust other people."

"...Even though the past can't be changed, I can now say I have a happy present. And I dare say that I'll have a happy future as well, with you by my side."

He dries the lone tear that escapes from your pretty eyes, chest bursting with deep love for you and hopes the kisses he places on your lips can convey his true feelings, when any and all words that he knows fail to do it.

----------

His birthday was something Wriothesley had long since stopped caring about.

His previous birthday is related to a time of his life he'd rather leave behind and never look back at It, while his current birthday is the day he was convicted for his crime.

Suffice to say that none of those dates have a positive memory behind them.

Now, however, as the two of you return to bed after having tea, biscuits with jam and many kisses in between, Wriothesley believes this year's November 23rd is the first one he actually wants to celebrate.

To celebrate the first time he actually feels thankful for his birth.

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: angst #blue.writes: fluff #blue.writes: wriothesley #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader

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burnthoneydrops · 2 months

Text

The Sun and the Moon II (e.b. x original character)

synopsis: the first ball for two recently debuted girls reveals a familiar feeling for one.

requested: no

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k

a/n: heyyyy, anyone remember this from over a year ago? im so sorry for the delay, i really ran out of long writing motivation there for a hot second, but hopefully i'm back at it? i make absolutely no promises though

My right glove sags unceremoniously from my arm and as I go to adjust it for the millionth time, Aunt Moore tugs at the back of my dress. I quickly retract my arm back to my side as we step through the double doors of the conservatory Lady Danbury had secured for the evening. She seemed a most formidable lady indeed, from what Aunt Moore’s staff had told me, but the gorgeous flowers hanging from the walls were not overtly intimidating. Hearing that she was sponsoring two girls also foreign to the ton had put me at ease this afternoon, as I hoped I might find some comfort in a group of those trying to learn. I would never suggest admitting that I am an outsider to Aunt Moore, but I fear my accent has already done that for me.

“Lord Cabernathy, the oldest of his mother’s five children, hardly objectionable,” Aunt Moore has spotted her first victim standing against a floral column.

“Being the eldest is the only requirement making one suitable for a wife? The bar seems incredibly low,” I reply, much to my aunt’s dismay.

“Must you be difficult when we have only just walked in the room?” She mutters through gritted teeth as another mama and her daughter walk past us with odd looks in their eyes. She smiles and waves at them, looking at my sideways to ensure that I heard her.

“Is there anyone else, with at least more admirable qualifications?” I offer.

“Lord Landry, a fine young man whose family owns a renowned horse breeding farm in the country. Good standing, only child so due to inherit a large fortune when his parents pass”.

“Ah yes, wishing death upon people your age, my favourite pastime”.

“I am merely stating that he would have a sizable income to take care of you,” Aunt Moore sighs.

“I suppose the horse farm would not be the most impossible thing,” I try to sympathise with her efforts, thinking back to my family at home.

Aunt Moore turns to me, and for a second I think she is stooping to an apology, when there is suddenly one voice ringing above them. “This is the season the Viscount intends to find a wife!”

As if someone had thrown a pile of breadcrumbs in front of some incredibly competitive pigeons, a flock of young ladies swarm the location of the voice. Standing on the tops of my feet, I see a rather uncomfortable looking man with his mother at the other set of doors. I recognize the mother from the presentation, Lady Bridgerton. Before I have time to recount this thought to Aunt Moore, she is pushing me towards the flock. I attempt to delay the process by dragging my heels into the ground, but her will is stronger than my calves, so I lose the battle quite quickly. I am stuck at the back of the half circle, watching girls fling their dance cards in the Viscount’s face, hoping he would sign his name. I would believe that half of these girls even felt blessed that he breathed in their direction, but I have slightly more hope for humanity than that thought would allow.

As the circle of girls starts to diminish, thanks to those who realise that nothing productive will come of this swarm, I am left standing in front of the Viscount with Aunt Moore watching me from her seemingly perched position against the column. “Lord Bridgerton, it is an honour,” I state, curtseying as best I could despite the slight wobble in my ankles.

“It is an honour to meet you as well,” he replies, though I can tell he is looking to get away as quickly as possible. His mother seems to pick up on my identity quicker than her son, as I catch her eyeing me in my peripheral, followed by her mouth forming a soft ‘oh’ of recognition.

“You must be Lady Moore’s charge for the season,” she verbalises her thoughts, and it is then that Lord Bridgerton actually looks at me.

“Indeed I am Miss,” I nod.

“Lovely to be formally introduced. I noticed you at the modiste and the presentation, but it’s wonderful to properly make your acquaintance,” Lady Bridgerton smiles at me as I stand back up, finally being able to look both of them in the eye.

“Perhaps a dance, Miss Moore?” Lord Bridgerton proposes as his mother wraps a gentle arm around his elbow.

“I would be delighted my Lord,” I reply, extending my dance card forward so he may sign it.

“I shall see you then,” he gives a curt smile before departing, leaving his mother and I by the double doors. I look back over at Aunt Moore, who is smiling like I have never seen before, and I excuse myself to head back over to her.

“Very good start, I must say,” she says and I cannot tell if she is more proud of me or herself.

It is soon after this that Aunt Moore goes to fetch herself a refreshment, and I make my way to a more secluded corner of the dance floor, hoping to watch and possibly learn the dances I had to forgo in my training. Though Father was keen on teaching me all the dances he remembered from his days in the ton, there is only so much dancing one can do while also running a family business. There appears another single young lady standing among the crowd, so I try to make my way towards her. It is clear she is watching someone else on the dance floor, and by the looks of it, it is Lord Bridgerton and the not-so-spectacular dance he is currently leading.

“That young lady will soon be marked off his list I fear,” I comment, partially out in the open and partially hoping she will hear me.

“Lord Bridgerton indeed seems rather frustrated,” she replies, keeping her gaze forward. “Would you prefer it to be you on that dance floor instead?” she continues.

“Oh, not notably so. Though my Aunt would have you believe I do, she'll tell anyone just about anything to have me wed before the end of the season”. I pause for laughter, and when I am the only one who partakes, I continue, “do you wish for his name to be on your dance card?”

“I am merely observing for my sister. She seemed most interested in him from afar, so I decided I would watch from the sidelines”.

“What a fulfilment of sisterly duty,” I reply as Lord Bridgerton drops the girl’s hands, nodding curtly before heading outside.

“Excuse me,” the dark skinned girl departs from my side and I suddenly feel alone once again.

I stand off to the side for as long as I can stand, letting a few songs play through, before I realise that the next song is in fact my dance with Lord Bridgerton. I suddenly feel guilty, as if I am betraying the conversation I had previously with the mysterious other girl, but quickly depart from the crowd nonetheless so I can find my forced dance partner. He enters back in from the double doors and I am about to turn back around on account of how aggravated he looks, but Aunt Moore has somehow found me before I am able to do it. With a few words of aggressive encouragement, I am back on my trail, stopping right before the Lord and reminding him of our dance.

The ensemble begins playing once again as the Viscount takes my hands, leading me to the right side of the dance floor. I do not dare start the conversation, both in fear of his current emotional state and that I might run my mouth and have my aunt dragging me out of the ballroom by my earlobe.

“Your aunt is watching you for the season?” The Viscount starts.

“Yes, my Lord, my aunt has been gracious enough to sponsor my debut this season”.

“And your family, did they accompany you?”

“Unfortunately not, the rest of them stayed back home”.

“And home is…” he trails off.

“The Irish countryside my Lord,” I reply, looking between him and my feet to make sure I do not trample his.

“You must miss them,” he supplies more to the conversation, though looks displeased at my inability to multitask.

“Terribly,” I add as he spins me outwards.

At that moment, I feel as though all time has stopped. No longer with the fear that I might step on the Viscount’s toes, I am spinning around the highly decorated room, attempting to keep my gaze locked on a stationary object. It is her. My stationary object is the girl I saw at the modiste and the presentation. Eloise Bridgerton. She stands at the edge of the dance floor, actively avoiding her mother I assume, fiddling with her dance card. I do not know what has happened between when I saw her last and now, but I cannot help but notice how radiant she looks. My vision becomes hazy surrounding anything that is not her, as if I can focus on nothing else. She cannot possibly know she is having this effect on me, as she is simply standing there. I fear I might lose all the saliva in my mouth with the way my heart rate spikes, and just as quickly as the moment started, it is ending.

The Viscount is grabbing my hand once again, spinning back into him before we resume our normal facing positions. I glance quickly over his shoulder as we rotate clockwise to see if I can catch Eloise again, but alas she has run off. He nods at me once our dance has finished and hurries off to find the next young lady he promised a dance to and I am left there stunned.

All I know, Aunt Moore’s pushing might have been more helpful than I previously imagined.

#bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #elosie bridgerton x original character #eloise bridgerton x reader #fanfiction #bridgerton fan fiction #eloise bridgerton x you #wlw bridgerton

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darkbluekies · 7 months

Text

Hedwig asks #2

Previous one Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3 Warnings: none?

I'm growing a love/hate relationship with Hedwig blue, I live her because she is just everything but on the other hand she is so hypocritical, she makes me feel a certain way. You are an amazing writer you're doing what you need to, to make a reader feel a certain way

As long as I've awoken a reaction in you, I'm happy :>

Would Hedwig be a Loona stan

Yes she would and her favorite would be Gowon.

Omgg i love hedwig so much, love girl yanderes💘💕Her being a girl does raise up some problems for her own self tho, imagine her trying to confess to darling and darling thinks shes just saying that she loves them like a friend lmaoo Hedwig “i love you darling!!!!!!!💘💘💘💘💘”Darling “omgg!!!! love you too bestie 🥰 “Hedwig “no, i LOVE you, ALL the homo”

Haha omg, poor thing would get so frustrated. She would try and try to make you understand that it's not just "i love you bestie" it's "become mine or I'll make you mine", but your bright smile while saying it back would put her off guard.

"I ... I love you too ... bestie."

I love Hedwig so much I want to give her kith kith

she definetly wants some kithes, go ahead

HII I LOVE HEDWIG SM SHES VERY CUTE (def not on gunpoint)

hm yes, absolutely not on gunpoint huh

me to hedwig: bitch is that my sweater

Hedwig to you: yes it is

I like to imagine hedwig with a reader who speaks a foreign langauge they talk affectionately to her in it, then as a surprise for her darling. Hedwig learns the language just to find out they have been saying the most offensive things possible to her they can think of. 🤣

She'll be letting you know that is hurt her and guiltrip you until you apologize and make it up to her. You think you're funny? think again, hedwig will make you regret it big time.

I think the reason i really, really enjoy Hedwig as a character is because she's the one you don't see. The others are pretty open about their yandere-ness, kidnapping you and murdering people right before your eyes. But Hedwig ? You could spend years by her side, living your cutest homely life and never notice anything. Except you can't help thinking that something feels just a little bit off.

Exactly. You could live such a normal life with her and never know that anything is wrong. But every now and then, there's just something that you can't explain.

Hedwig seems like the type of girl who mess around with those love calculators or name combiners. She'd probably refuse to show you the results unless the calculator said you two had a 100% chance of being in love or getting married in the future

Haha yes totally😭

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere female #yandere asks #yandere scenarios

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for-a-longlongtime · 4 months

Text

Aquamarine

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x reader x Benny Miller

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI. 🏳️‍🌈 Characters are bi as fuck. 💖💜💙 Summary: Ezra has enjoyed being pegged by you from day one. When Benny comes over, a lazy afternoon takes an interesting turn. Things are said, orders are being followed, two of you might be to blame for Benny's ruined jeans, and that lovely turquoise strap-on gets used. Also, Benny learns how to suck a dick - and it's not just his mouth that becomes acquainted with Ezra's tongue. Let the good times slut roll. (PWP, that's it really.) Warnings/tags: Established relationship (f/m) plus third (hello, younger!BennyMiller from Triple Frontier!AU), dirty talk, brief masturbation (f and m), fingering (f and m receiving), rimming, anal sex, oral on a strap on, pegging, dildo is referred to as "your cock/dick" repeatedly. Some spit use (no kink). Word count: 5652 words A/N: This is part of the Peg That Middle Aged Man campaign organized by the amazing @wannabe-urs. Please go check out all the other fantastic fics here! I completely missed my 01/18 deadline because things/my brain got in the way, but I finally completed after all. Special thanks to many of y'all, but in particular @sin-djarin, @magpiepills and the @alltheglitterandtheroar for their support in getting this done. Infinite gratitude to the always amazing @morallyinept, in particular for her Ezra Dialogue post and Writing For Ezra guide! Dividers by @saradika. This fic is unbeta-ed (in an attempt to squash my perfectionism) and inspired by @prolix-yuy's Din pegging fic, thank you LJ!

He’s gorgeous like this. Spread out on the bed with your fingers inside of him, those groans of pleasure getting even louder when you slide your mouth back onto his cock. It’s not just about how he looks, although yes - part of the reason you’re soaking wet is definitely that sweaty curly hair with the blond streak. With his head tilted back into the pillows he looks even more attractive than usual, his eyes closed but bliss written all over his face, even after you’ve edged him for almost an hour already.

What gets to you the most is how unabashedly he surrenders himself. Body and mind greedy for pleasure, as if he’s been without nourishment for too long, deprived during all the time he’s spent on Bakhroma Green. He has no qualms to ask for what he wants, or what you want from him. That first night he fucked you better and longer than you had been in a long time, and still convinced you to call in sick the next day so he could do it all over again, making you scream his name until your voice was hoarse. So when you saw him looking at the harness in your toy drawer later that day, you were more than happy to return the favor.

You figured out pretty much immediately that this wasn’t new to him, so you rode him hard - having learned a thing or two about him in the previous twenty four hours - until he was a sticky whimpering mass, begging for you to keep going until he was beyond overstimulated. Afterwards he made you come twice on his tongue and fingers, and told you that while the strap was new for him, “the pleasure of being taken by a cock is not foreign to me, gem. No love too intimidating.” It was then that the thought of him being taken like this by a guy, or him fucking another man, had sprouted in your mind - something you kept filed away until the right moment came to revisit that.

Like now.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts, and Ezra frowns as you let his cock slip from your mouth. “Gem, I must implore you to ignore that interruption,” he sounds breathless as he grabs your wrist before you can slide your fingers out of him. “As much as I enjoy you keeping me on the edge…” he pauses when you give him a challenging look and curl your fingers up against his prostate, making his hips buck hard. “... having a visitor take up your precious time is not something I’m willing to indulge in.”

“But I got you something.” You smirk when his eyes light up and lean into the kiss he’s offering. “I know you’ll like it.”

“Well… You’ve piqued my interest with such a delightful promise,” he muses before he takes over your mouth with a deep kiss. “Nevertheless, I’m sure the courier can leave this offering at the door. I’m not ready for your hands to leave my body just yet. I…” He groans when you slowly start to move your fingers inside him again, and lazily runs a hand over his chest, teasing his nipples until they’re both hardened by the attention. “Grant me another one of those delightful fingers, gem.”

The hitch in his breathing makes a shiver run through you, and as another knock sounds on the door, you wrap your left hand around Ezra’s cock. Slowly stroking him without any hurry, matching the pace of your other hand. He watches you with pleasure, whimpering quietly when you gently slide his foreskin down to reveal the head, then lean down to lick the precum off his dick and your fingers.

“Come on in, the door is open,” you call out into the direction of the door once you’ve licked up all of him, almost like an afterthought. The momentary surprise on Ezra’s face is easy to spot, but it shifts almost immediately to amusement tinged with a hint of mischief. Most noticeable, he makes no effort to cover himself up or discretely move away from your hands - if anything, he makes a point of spreading out more on your sheets. Luxuriating like a cat under a warm beam of sunlight. Or perhaps a panther in the green is a more apt description; no trepidation, just a single minded focus. It’s exactly what you were counting on.

You press a kiss to Ezra’s stomach as you hear the front door open, and his cock twitches in excitement at the startled gasp of the visitor. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought—”

“You thought right, no worries”. You grin as you lick away the last drop of precum that has welled up, then take in your guest. Benny. Just as pretty as when you met him the other day. Tall, blond, a slim but well-defined body that makes it clear he likes to work out. Younger than Ezra, but not too young - probably late twenties or early thirties. He’s a sight to behold in many ways, but that pouty bottom lip and his captivating eyes stand out in particular. You know Ezra is a sucker for that - you remember him telling you that it were your eyes that had drawn him in. Like aurelac. Believe me, gem. I should know, considering how much I’ve harvested it.

“Glad you came. Close that door, would you?”

“What a pretty thing you’ve sourced for us.” Ezra’s voice is quiet so only you can hear him, yet his dick is anything but subtle; he’s positively throbbing under your fingers, but not addressing Benny yet, waiting for him to approach the bed. You see the hesitation on Benny’s face as he takes in the two of you, but there’s no room for hesitation in the way he licks his lips and shrugs his jacket off.

“Hi… I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”

“Not at all, gentle man.” Ezra props himself up on an elbow, gesturing for Benny to come closer. He’s enjoying this, the panther in him all relaxed yet fully alert, letting his prey come to him willingly. “What is your name?”

“Benny. I met… we got to know each other, and she told me to come over.” He’s clearly trying to not be too blatant about staring at Ezra, but it’s fairly impossible to not look right at that stiff cock, surrounded by the thick curls of his pubes. It takes a moment, but then Benny seems to realize that you’re not just jerking off Ezra; you’re also still fingering his ass with easy, lazy movements. He clears his throat as he seems flustered, clearly not knowing where to look.

“Benjamin. Hello, Benjamin - I’m Ezra. You must have met this gem at the drinking establishment,” Ezra suggests as he strokes your cheek, holding Benny’s gaze. “Surely you were as enthralled by her as I was. Tell me, did you try to make her yours?”

Benny laughs nervously, running a hand through his dark blond hair as he shrugs, seeming flustered. “Yeah, I-... I’m sorry, man. Didn’t know she was yours.”

It takes one to know that Ezra’s smile isn’t quite as friendly as it could be, with just a little too many teeth bared before he speaks. “That is not true, Benjamin. This gem belongs only to herself. I have the distinct pleasure of enjoying her whenever she deems me to be worthy of her time.” He pats the bed next to him as an invitation. “Your presence here would suggest she has plans for you, too. So this is… exciting.”

You nod at that as you slide your fingers out of Ezra, who does not seem too pleased about this. “I want to watch you fuck Benny,” you say casually, grabbing some sanitizer and a cloth to clean your hand. “He’s never been with a guy, but I don’t think that has to be a problem. Or is it, Benny? Sit down.”

He follows the command without hesitation, radiating golden retriever energy as he seems eager to please, and just a little bit overwhelmed. You reward him by brushing your fingers over his jawline, tracing the soft stubble and the more pronounced goatee under his plush lip. He looks slightly dazed, but you have no concerns about that. Setting boundaries was no problem for him, you had already figured that out yesterday - because else you wouldn’t have invited him over. “Can I kiss you?”, you ask, and he nods silently.

“Use your words, Benjamin.” Ezra speaks up before you say it, and you can tell how the tone in his voice has changed since he last spoke. It’s sharper, hungrier, with a little bit of fangs in it. “I expect you to engage in candid discourse with us. Otherwise this is not happening, my friend.”

Something flickers in Benny’s eyes - a hint of resistance, or maybe he just rightfully feels intimidated. Ezra never is subtle about taking control of a situation, getting the upper hand either through words or more tangible weapons. But Benny doesn’t back down, lets his fingers brush down your arm, grazing your breast by no accident. “Yes, you can kiss me. Both of you can”, he then adds, sounding like a dare as his eyes are still on Ezra. “I’m fine with most things, and if not I’ll let you know.”

“How fortunate for us.” Ezra smiles as he leans back against the headboard and lazily runs his hand over his dick, giving you an expectant look. You don’t waste any time, revising your earlier plans to initially only make out with Benny. While he can’t take his eyes off Ezra, you climb into his lap, steading yourself with a hand on his shoulder as he settles in. He looks up almost in surprise, as if suddenly being shaken out of a day dream, and he wraps his arms loosely around your waist as he faces you straight on now..

“I like how you’re drooling over Ezra,” you tease him, to which he immediately blushes. “No, don’t worry, I’m the same way. It’s hard not to,” you hush him as you settle in, wriggling around for a moment until you’re comfortable with the angle, your bare pussy pressed against his denim covered cock. You brush your lips over his as you slowly rock against him, feeling his hand slide to your hip, the other one firmly grabbing your ass to pull you closer. “Ez has a nice dick, you know. Thick, generously sized… ever been up close and personal with an uncut cock?”

Benny seems already breathless when he kisses you, his tongue just as eager as his hips are, grinding up against you. “No. Not with any cock, really. Fuck. He’s… hot.” He groans when you grind down harder against him, your slickness leaving a wet stain on his pants. “You’re both really hot,” he then adds, kissing you harder as he seems to gain more confidence now. Slipping his hand between you, he gathers your wetness so he can tease your clit with his fingertip, and you whimper in delight by how effective he is. You can tell he wants to explore more, would probably gladly slip one or two fingers inside of your heat, but that’s not going to happen yet - you have plans.

“I like your mouth,” you breathe as you break the kiss, resting your forearms on his shoulders as you lean back slightly, perfectly aware of how this pushes your tits up in a spectacular fashion for him. “You any good with it elsewhere, too?”

His lips are on your breasts before you even finish the line, hot tongue licking one nipple before he moves to the other, then sucks it into his mouth in a way that makes your clit throb. “Anywhere and everywhere” he assures you when he lets go of it with a wet smack. “You want me to eat you out?”

“Not now. Maybe later,” you sigh in pleasure, rocking a little harder against his fingers, enjoying how he’s taking his time to figure out what gets you going. Over his shoulder you see Ezra, a predatory glint in his eye when he realizes he’s got your attention. You bite your lip hard when the hand around his cock speeds up, and Ezra lets the other one lazily slip between his legs, teasing himself with deft fingers where yours were minutes earlier.

You have to hold your breath for a moment to not lose it right there, and Ezra takes full advantage of it. His dark eyes hold you captive as he slips a thick finger into his hole, and you groan when you hear him breathe your name. He wants to get fucked by you, hard, and he’s not shy about it either. You’re throbbing in response to it - between his blatant need and Benny’s fingers between your legs, you feel yourself getting way too close way too fast. Especially when Benny’s mouth returns to your breasts, his teeth and tongue alternately teasing your nipples until they feel just as sensitive as your clit.

You pull yourself off Benny’s lap just before the waves threaten to overtake you, legs slightly wobbly as you try to compose yourself and calm your breathing. Benny is looking just as dazed as you’re feeling, and you’re pretty sure that the large wet spot on his jeans isn’t just caused by your arousal only.

“Pretty Benny,” you say softly as you run your hand through his long locks, admiring the play of dark blond hair with some lighter strands. You’re pleased to see his head tip back as he swallows, anticipation on his face when you slowly twist some of his hair around your fingers. “Tell me something. You like being told what to do?”

Benny’s eyes become glassy at your words, and you feel a little jolt of triumph at his eagerness. Perfect. You give a gentle tug at his hair as a warning for his lack of direct response, and he whimpers. Squeezing his stiff cock through his pants as his gaze remains on you, he doesn’t seem aware of Ezra moving behind him. His eyes close when Ezra’s large hand envelops his throat loosely, cupping it with thick fingers that then move up to stroke his chin.

“My gem is not in the habit of repeating herself, so I will do you that courtesy right now, Benjamin.” Ezra’s voice is gentle and warm, but you can hear the warning in his words. “She asked whether you like being told what to do.” His thumb slips into Benny’s mouth, its pad stroking Benny’s tongue for just a moment, then resting on his lip again. You feel slightly dizzy by how captivating it is. By no means is Benny a meek man, and he even has a couple of inches on Ezra in height. But there’s a willingness in him to follow orders, particularly when given by Ezra, that you find incredibly exciting.

“I do here, yes.” Benny’s voice is strained, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking at you. Both men having their glances fixed on you, both looking as hungry as you feel; one confident to the point of being almost predatory, the other momentarily overwhelmed by his own arousal. Ezra hums, reaching out to brush Benny’s lower lip with his thumb, his other arm snaking around Benny’s waist in an embrace. He dips his head down slightly so he can whisper in Benny’s ear, and you already know what he’s going to say.

“Suck it.”

Benny obeys immediately. The wet sound of his mouth around Ezra’s thumb gives you goosebumps, and you feel yourself throbbing once again. You had not yet planned on coming, preferring to take your time and enjoying the lazy exploration between the three of you. But you can’t help yourself any longer - you need your release now.

You slide your hand between your legs and touch your clit, gasping at how swollen and sensitive it is from Benny touching you earlier, and the extensive attention Ezra had paid to your pussy even earlier. Before you can reach further and slip a finger or two inside, Benny’s hand reaches for yours, a pleading expression in his eyes.

You nod benevolently, feeling his fingers gently enter you - only two, but thicker than yours are, and you moan as he strokes you, explores you. With ease he finds the right spot inside of you, rubbing and tapping it gently, and he smiles when you clench tight around him in response, your pulse suddenly skyrocketing. Without even blinking, he increases the pressure a bit while you stroke your clit, in tandem working towards your orgasm, and in no time at all you’re crying out and coming hard around his fingers.

Only once you’ve eased down, Benny withdraws from you, a content look on his face. For a moment you think that he’s going to put his fingers to his mouth, but he surprises you - turning to look at Ezra and offers him his slick fingers. The glee on Ezra’s face couldn’t possibly be any more radiant, and he grins as he wraps his fingers around Benny’s wrist. “A most gracious offering, my friend - it appears we have a good partnership here,” he muses as he lifts Benny’s hand to his lips.

“Fuck me, you’re killing me with that,” you whimper, hearing how hoarse your voice sounds. The sight of Ezra sucking Benny’s fingers into his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue before he lets go, is making you greedy. For more, for them, for someone’s dick being taken down someone else’s throat, and it’d better be soon.

Ezra smirks, entirely too pleased with your reaction, then leans in to kiss Benny. Cupping his face in his hand, a gentle kiss on his lips first, but as Benny sighs in pleasure you see Ezra quickly get bolder. He shifts on the bed as he draws Benny closer to him, fingers stroking through the dark blond hair as he leans to kiss his jawline, then lets his lips wander back to Benny’s mouth again.

“Your eyes are extraordinarily striking.” Ezra hums, almost as if talking to himself, his thumb brushing over Benny’s eyebrow. “Ocean blue, but.. viridescent. No. Aquamarine,” he corrects himself, and you smile to yourself - that’s exactly what you expected him to call it the moment you laid eyes on Benny. Leave it up to Ezra to try to capture colors through precious stones rather than using obvious terms.

Benny laughs a little awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond to that. “Ahh, thanks? Hey man, you don’t need to woo me.”

“I can assure you I am not even doing such a thing, Benjamin, nor do I believe that I will have to do so when pursuing you,” Ezra teases him playfully, reaching down to the unzipped jeans so he can cup Benny’s cock through the gray underwear. “If I may be so bold - you already appear to be a done deal, my friend. Wooing does not seem necessary anymore.”

Benny huffs as he shakes his head dismissively. “You’re very cocky.”

“You’re very pretty.” Ezra laughs loudly when Benny blushes again, and you reach out for Ezra’s hair as you give it a hard tug before he can say anything else.

“Smart ass. Be nice to our guest, hmm?”

“Of course.” Without missing a beat Ezra’s hand lightly grasps yours and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “You may want to go have a drink of water, gem. Hydrate yourself. Perhaps bring your cock with you when you return?”

Benny looks confused for a second, but seems to drop it when Ezra grabs him for a proper kiss this time. There’s a moment of hesitation from Benny, but then his hand slides into Ezra’s neck and he pulls him closer. He takes over the kiss from Ezra, tongues greedily finding each other to share the taste of you and explore each other. Fuck, they’re beautiful. Ezra’s roughness, unpolished edges and a direct approach to ensnare you in his words, make you part of his game - versus Benny’s eagerness, being entirely too pretty, the light and captivating energy around him impossible to resist. They’re a good match in all their contrasts.

Benny pushes Ezra down into the pillows, practically climbing into his lap, and Ezra’s large hands immediately paw at him to remove his shirt. It’s tempting to stay and watch, but you remind yourself that some water is a more urgent need right now. You gulp down a cup from the chilled pitcher, then half of another one as you walk to the dresser across the room. The mirror above it gives you a perfect view of the guys making out, and you shamelessly admire them as you rummage through your toy drawer. First your leather harness, then you sort through the silicone dicks until you find the turquoise one that you like the best for Ezra.

Once you’ve put on the harness and slipped the dildo through through the O-ring, you walk back to the bed under the watchful eye of Ezra, who has Benny grinding into his lap as they’re still making out like teenagers. Eventually he breaks the kiss, sucking a quick hickey onto Benny’s throat as he watches you touch your silicone dick.

“Kevva, gem. Look at your cock,” he says quietly, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire for you. He grabs Benny’s chin lightly and turns his head, making him look at you, and you see the surprised expression on Benny’s face as he takes in your appearance. The way the leather straps softly dig into your skin, the size of the dildo, and then you see the realization dawn on his face that none of this is a surprise to Ezra.

“Your mouth is all messed up,” you say as you reach out for Benny stroking the slight redness that Ezra’s stubble left on his pale skin, lips swollen from kissing and his skin slightly flushed from Ezra’s stubble. “Looks good on you.”

“Would look even better on you, gem.” Ezra’s voice is low and gravely as he runs his fingers through Benny’s hair, brushing the strands back. “How about you suck her cock, Benjamin. Do you see how magnificent it looks on her? You can show her that you know how to use that pretty mouth in different ways,” Ezra whispers into his ear, urging Benny off the bed and in front of you, then adds, “Show us how you can take me in later.”

The breath Benny sucks in at those words is clearly audible, making Ezra’s grin widen even more as he moves to stand behind you, running his hands over your soft curves as he keeps his hard dick pressed against your ass. For a moment you wonder if this might be pushing him a bit too much, but then Benny kneels at your feet, a sight to behold. All lean muscle and strong arms, dick hard in his underwear, and looking even more fucked out than earlier.

Benny’s fingers brush over the leather straps of your harness as he examines it on you, pressing kisses to some spots where the leather is threatening to leave an imprint on your skin. “I like the leather,” he says, sounding almost surprised, and just like earlier you find yourself clenching again, especially when he fingers the base of your cock and the balls. For some reason his careful explorations thrill you more than expected, especially once he decides to go for it and lap the head of your cock. Careful licks at first as he seems bashful, fingers brushing over the ridges and fake veins on the phallic silicone. You let him explore, let him get used to the idea of him being on his knees and about to take you in - hell, let him get used to the idea of a dick in his mouth period, even if it is a fake one.

“It’s not gonna bite you, Benjamin.” Ezra has moved over to Benny and is now kneeling behind him, hand resting on Benny’s back as he nods at the dildo. “Will you allow me?”

You raise an eyebrow at Ezra. “Look at you, so polite and sweet to him. Why don’t I get that?”, you tease, and Ezra grins as he smacks your ass hard, making you yelp.

“Because you do not care for that, gem. Come here.” You watch as Ezra’s hand closes around the strap on, leaning in without a moment of hesitation.He’s done this so many times, but never in front of anyone else. Benny watches Ezra’s tongue lavish your cock with attention, and you can tell from the way Ezra’s fingers press into your hips that he’s getting too excited, his body desperately needing release from having been stimulated in so many ways this afternoon.

A quiet groan escapes from Benny’s lips as he watches Ezra’s head bobbing, up and down, and you see Benny’s hand close around himself, the head of his cock almost angrily red and leaking all over him. He fucks himself into his fist, then whines loudly when he sees Ezra take you in all the way - sliding down on your cock until his nose meets your skin and the leather straps.

You laugh, almost breathlessly, as you slide your hand into Ezra’s sweaty hair and cup the back of his head, holding him in place as you watch his throat work on you. “You take it so well, Ezra. Fuck, yeah, there you go,” you gasp, starting to pull back when you feel him gag for a moment. “Easy there, easy-”

“I’m fine,” the words stutter from Ezra’s lips as he sits up, catching his breath before he turns to Benny, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh, shit. That really got you going, huh?” He sounds hoarse as he nods at Benny touching himself, then leans over to him, pulling Benny into another sloppy kiss. His hand joins Benny’s, intending to help jerk him off - but you’re officially out of patience with Ezra’s chaotic energy crackling at frantic levels. He’s been too wired for too long now, and you know there’s only one way he’s going to be able to let that go.

“Get your ass on that bed,” you tell him as you smack his butt playfully, looking for the container of slick under the pillow. “Now, pretty boy. You too, other pretty boy,” you nod at Benny, “...go sit against the headboard.”

They both follow your lead, but you can tell by the glint in Ezra’s eye that he’s not about to back down - you know it’ll just be a matter of minutes before he’s running his mouth again. “I don’t want to hear you. Got it?”, you warn him preemptively as you push him down in the sheets, onto his stomach, then give his ass another hard slap as you twist the lid off the small glass jar with slick.

Ezra groans, letting out a deep sigh as he looks back at you. “Again. Other side too,” he says hoarsely, then sucks in a deep breath when you oblige - a smack against his other cheek, then two more on each of them as you hear him whimper in pleasure.

“Thought I told you to be quiet”, you challenge him as you spread the slick all over your cock. “Ass up now. Are you–”

“I’m fine, yeah,” he interrupts you, so eager he’s nearly tripping over his words, and he whines as you spread his cheeks, running your slick fingers over his asshole. “Please, just…” He groans when you run your thumb over his rim, letting it slip into for a moment. “Shit, shit, yes. Come on, gem, I can-...”

His words trail off as you push into him, just the tip of your cock at first, making sure he’s taking you as well as usual. When he nods at you to keep going, you slide your hand under him and reach for his half hard cock, stroking him steadily as you push further into him. His breathing still stutters but he takes the strap easily, eagerly as always. When you look up for a moment you see Benny staring at the two of you in awe.

Ezra notices it too, and you feel the laugh that’s rolling through his chest before you hear it. “I think Benjamin is rather intrigued by the idea of being taken by a cock, gem,” he suggests, sounding rather amused as he grinds back against you. You pick up the pace as you thrust into him, and it doesn’t take long for those broad shoulders to fully relax. His cock is leaking in your hand as you fuck him steadily, hitting him at just the right angle to make him groan, and you hear him lick his lips as he beckons Benny to scoot closer. “Benjamin… come over here, won’t you? I don’t bite. Unless you’d want me to, in which case… today is going to turn out even better than I thought it was.”

“Hey, Benny? I’m gonna need your help here,” you order the other man as you keep up your pace, resting one hand on Ezra’s hip and the other one on his back, as you stroke his warm skin that’s glistening with sweat. “Need you to shut him up, okay?”

“Fuck. Yes - please,” Ezra gasps, his voice breaking for a second, and you feel a shiver run through him. You’re not even sure which one of you three groans the loudest when he takes Benny’s cock in his mouth, but you can feel your thighs slick with our arousal by the view in front of you. Benny’s a goner almost right away, his hand on the back of Ezra’s bobbing head as he guides him down on his dick, hips pushing eagerly towards his release.

When Ezra’s nose brushes against Benny’s neatly trimmed pubes, holding still for a moment, Benny’s hand drops away as he mumbles something incoherent. You hear Ezra’s half choked grin, see him pull back as he licks Benny’s tight ball sack which earns him another moan. “Tap out if it’s a no,” Ezra tells him before he spits on his digits, brushing his fingertips over Benny’s taint which gets him an even louder moan than before.

“Jesus, Ezra,” Benny mumbles as he closes his eyes, leaning his head back as he lets Ezra handle him. You’re not surprised when you see a flash of Ezra’s pink tongue sliding over the perineum, and you slow down your thrusts to not jostle him too much. When Benny’s hips suddenly buck up hard without a warning, you hear Ezra hum and the sound of more spit against skin.

“Just relax, Benjamin, I’ve got you. Let it go,” Ezra hushes him, rubbing Benny’s thigh soothingly as he keeps his mouth to him, a soft smack of his lips as he sucks on his finger. “ ‘s Gonna feel good, I promise, yeah?” Even though being behind Ezra doesn’t quite provide you with a clear view, you can see just enough of what’s going on - Ezra’s tongue tracing Benny’s rim, slick with saliva, hushing him some more to relax as he takes his time, and then Benny whimpering when Ezra’s finger gently pushes inside of him.

“Fuck. Ezra, fuuck, I can’t– please… please,” Benny begs him, and Ezra beams as his finger slides into the second knuckle. He hums as he mouths Benny’s balls before moving back to his cock, the back of his head blocking most of your view as he works on drawing more moans and pleas from Benny. It’s not long before Benny cries out Ezra’s name along with a string of curses, his body shaking hard until he goes pretty much boneless.

Benny heaves a deep sigh as he practically melts into the bed, reaching out to brush something off Ezra’s face - some spilled come, you would assume. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding very regretful at all as a smirk plays over his face. “Got it all over, huh?”

“I’ll take you on your word that that was not deliberately aimed, Benjamin,” Ezra says with a shrug, brushing the back of his hand over his cheeks and forehead. “Make sure to keep that in mind next time when I bust a nut over your face, too, hmm?” he adds with a grin as he wipes his hand clean on a bedsheet, then wiggles his ass against as he looks at you over his shoulder. “That was some good team work from our partnership, gem.”

You nodded as you rub his ass gently, moving along with him as you slowly start to pick up the pace again. “Hey, at least it wasn’t me in the line of fire this time, you know?”

He laughs at you, stretching his arms one by one, followed by his back as he hums contently under your touch - the caresses to his back, the kiss you press against his bicep. He still has the predatory look on his face from earlier, that panther stretching in the sun while examining his prey, looking extra smug this time.

“Yeah, but you clean it up so pretty with your mouth,” he teases, the two of you both knowing that Ezra is always the first to grab you a wet towel when it’s needed. “As for now…” His eyes darken slightly as he grasps your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss before he brings it to his throat, folding your fingers gently around him.

“Better finish me good, gem. You know I’ll make it worth your while.”

My brain was fried when I put this up originally, so I'm tagging people only now to let y'all know this posted (and you may be interested): @marisferasiop @ghostofaboy @immarocketman @ezrasbirdie @whatsnewalycat @gasolinerainbowpuddles @idolatrybarbie @writefightandflightclub @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @maggiemayhemnj @linzels-blog @lady-bess @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @undercoverpena @sp00kymulderr @i-own-loki @ladamedusoif @penvisions @bonezone44 @auteurdelabre @ohforficsake @swiftispunk @max--phillips @kiwisbell @beskarandblasters @rifflovesjoey @chronically-ghosted @iamskyereads

Love to all the sluts! <3 @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @secretelephanttattoo @arcanefox207

Taglist for those who requested it : @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @pimosworld @survivingandenduring @romanarose @rubyfruitjungle @criticalarchitecture @kt86 @gemmahale @rav3n-pascal22 @rhoorl @laurfilijames @musings-of-a-rose @perotovar

#pedro pascal characters #PMAMC 2024 #ezra prospect #benny miller #triple frontier

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halfmoth-halfman · 7 months

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My MWIII Thoughts

I’ve finally taken the time to get all of my thoughts about the new campaign together and put them in a single post. There are no spoiler tags since the game is officially releasing today/tomorrow, but everything is under the cut with a warning. I have a lot of things to say here, so I’ve tried to organize it point by point. The points I think are most important are first, and I ask that you take the time to read through them. If you want to skip to the points about characters and that death, the beginning of those sections is marked with red, but be prepared to scroll.

I watched the custscenes, with gameplay, all the way through once and I’m not doing it again. I tried to go back to specific scenes to reference in this post, but even that was a lot for me, so if my timeline in here is a little screwy don't fault me too much.

If you just want my quick, overall thoughts: This campaign was two hours of egregiously incoherent, poorly written, shoddily thrown together military propaganda, even more than the cod games usually are, and your money would be much better spent donating to help Palestine - there are links to do so in this review, marked with green, as well as boycott information, and the same donations links are also provided on this shorter post if you want to go directly to them.

(There are spoilers below, and this is long. I'm not kidding. Do not click the readmore unless you are prepared to scroll.)

Military Propaganda/Islamophobia

I spoke about this some already here and here because I felt this was an important enough topic that deserved its own post.

Call of Duty has never been has never been the game where I expected to see proper representation of the Middle East or Middle Eastern politics. It is first and foremost military propaganda. More than that it is American military propaganda. Just like with every superhero and pro-military movie post-9/11, it should be expected that you’re not going to get any kind of meaningful insight or depth when it comes to Middle Eastern storylines and characters, but there is usually more of an effort to hide the Middle East = Terrorist subtext.

To say I was shocked at how overt and blatant the Islamophobia was in this game is an understatement. We get four deaths of named characters in this game. Two of whom are Middle Eastern women, Dena and Samara, from the country Urzikstan, the fictional combination of Syria and Afghanistan and home to terrorist group Al-Qatala (real subtle, right?). Both of these women are associated with the ULF, the Urzikstan Liberation Force, Farah’s group of freedom fighters whose goal is to free their country from foreign subjugation with Samara no longer being an active member. Both of these women are introduced in this game. Both of these women are minor characters. Both of these women, Samara in particular, are trying to live their lives peacefully now that their country has been freed.

Both of these women are given deaths more brutal and more shocking than the other two deaths of two main characters in the series.

We meet Dena at the beginning of the game when we’re first re-introduced to Alex and Farah. We see her have a heartfelt reunion with Farah, and the two have a conversation while driving where Dena expresses her concerns about wanting Urzikstan to remain peaceful but assures Farah that everyone will support her. After, Dena is suddenly shot in the chest, and Farah is forced to take control of the vehicle they’re in, which ultimately flips over and we get Farah’s first death fakeout.

It’s in this cutscene that we see a lingering shot on Dena as well as her corpse being thrashed in the car as Farah tries to take control and as it flips. We are given a Middle Eastern woman showing hope for her country that the peace she has fought for will be maintained only to then watch her die for shock value and a fakeout for another character, and watch her body fly across the car as it flips. We don’t get that with either of the other two gunshot deaths in this game. Soap’s is just as sudden, but we see it coming, and there are no shots of his body being thrown about, no closer views of his face like there are with Dena. Shepherd’s is entirely off-screen and all we’re left with is a shot of him lying face down on his desk - no blood or bullet wound in sight.

Notably, the only other person we see a comparable amount of blood on in this game is Makarov, the enemy of the series.

Samara, who gets the worst death in this game, in my opinion, is a retired ULF soldier we’re introduced to on a plane. I’ll start by saying I was under the assumption this may have been the reboot replacement for No Russian, the mission in which Makarov and Co. shot up Zakhaev International Airport to frame America for terrorism in the original series, and the mission that was teased after the credits in the MW2 reboot. We get the scene of Makarov and his men at the airport before boarding the plane, which could just be a nod to the original mission. However, until there is an official reboot of the No Russian mission, I’m going to assume this was Activision’s new take on it.

In this mission, we learn that Makarov plans to use this plane bombing to frame Urzikstan, Farah and the ULF specifically. The thing is, as Big Mak and friends are in the airport preparing to board, we are shown that the ULF is already being blamed for the missile attack on Arklov Military Base from the previous mission where their missiles were stolen, capped with Konni’s chemical gas, and one was detonated. There’s even a news sequence showing that the world already thinks of the ULF as a terrorist organization, and has not-so-quietly thought that for years. That makes this upcoming scene feel not only unnecessary but like a deliberate choice made by Activision to be extra cruel to a Middle Eastern character.

We see Samara text with her family and are shown a picture of her husband and children before the man next to her begins speaking to her in Arabic. He compliments her family and, I assume as we’re not directly shown, gets the No Russian text - a text, for those who have not played the original games, meaning to not speak Russian to not tie the terrorist act they’re about to commit back to the Russians. The Traveler, as he's called, then reveals that he knows who she is, knows her family, and knows that she is a former ULF soldier and fought the Russians. He then pulls a gun on her and Makarov and Konni take the plane hostage, purposely speaking Arabic and declaring this is for Urzikstan.

We are then forced to watch as Samara fights back, but is ultimately taken to Makarov where a bomb is strapped to her chest. He gives his usual cryptic speech, and over-explains to the audience what’s happening before diving out of the plane D.B. Cooper style.

Samara is then dragged to the back of the plane by a Hijacker, where the remaining passengers are, kicking and fighting and trying to reason with him to stop. He pauses and we then get this exchange:

Hijacker: Are you a terrorist?

Samara: No…

Hijacker: You look like one.

He then puts a gun in her hands, tosses the cellphone that will let her stop the bomb, and shoves her into a crowd where we have to watch her struggle to explain what’s happening to her and that she needs the phone to a crowd of people that are either afraid of or angry with her. She is shoved to the ground by a random man, forced to fight through people trying to tackle and beat her, and, when the phone is finally within reach in the hands of a scared passenger, the plane blows up.

I want to emphasize that most of this is a cutscene. There are a few button presses for the player to try and get the phone, and you are allowed to look around and try to fight back, but that is quickly stopped, and you are forced to sit and watch through Samara’s perspective. The end result? There’s an investigation for who may have done this, and you play as Farah collecting evidence from the crash site so Makarov can’t frame the ULF. The mission succeeds, because it’s a story mission and it has to, Makarov is unable to control the narrative so people can only suspect the ULF did it but can’t prove it, and Samara…died for nothing. All of that was so people could suspect the ULF was a terrorist organization, which the game has previously gone out of its way to establish was already happening before Makarov got on that flight. This entire sequence and the mission after added nothing to the storyline other than the brutal forcing of a Middle Eastern woman to hijack a plane 9/11 style and die a death worse than two of the series’s main characters.

Two side characters, two Middle Eastern women who have never existed before this game, are put in this game solely to die in ways where their deaths are more emphasized and graphic than a character we’ve played as since the series began, and one of the main villains.

There is a genocide happening in Palestine. Islamophobia in the United States, and the West as a whole, is rising to post-9/11 heights. There is already so much propaganda being spread in an attempt to dehumanize the men, women, and children who are being murdered by Israeli forces, to justify the actions - the war crimes - of the Israeli forces. Could this be a sloppy attempt at Activision trying to mirror real-life stereotypes and how quick the media is to jump to the Arab = Bad narrative? Possibly. I don’t think it is. I think this was a deliberate change from the original No Russian mission in which America is framed for terrorism, made by an American company that makes games meant to garner interest and support in the American military, during a time when the American government is being criticized for funding and aiding an ethnic cleansing.

As slapped together as this game was, I don’t believe they couldn’t have changed the campaign in the time since the situation in Palestine escalated to this level. I firmly believe it was a purposeful choice to write that scene, to film that scene, to keep that scene.

It is blatant, it is clear, it is as in-your-face as it can possibly be. It is not something this fandom gets to ignore because they don’t like the campaign. It is not something this fandom gets to overshadow with Soap’s death as poorly written as it was. It is not something this fandom gets to stay silent about while also posting about #freepalestine.

I have never expected the best when it comes to Islamophobia from the Call of Duty games or its fandom. I’ve never expected anything beyond mildly okay. Call of Duty is military propaganda, I know. The fandom is known for its racism and it’s not getting better, I know that especially. But I don’t see how anyone, in the times we’re living in right now, would be able to look at this and not acknowledge it for what it is.

It is the purposeful brutalization of Middle Eastern characters.

It is propaganda.

It is racism.

It is Islamophobia.

It is wrong.

Engaging Critically/Acknowledging Privilege

While I may be stepping back from the CoD fandom, I understand that not everyone is going to. For some people, these games are a comfort or an escape. I’m not here to call for a boycott of Call of Duty or Activision while there are more important boycotts to be focusing on - and you can find more info on them here & here.

What I am asking, particularly of those of us in the fandom that are not being directly affected by what’s happening in Palestine, is that there is more acknowledgment of the level of privilege that we have and that people learn to engage more critically with the media they consume.

It is a privilege to play a game like Call of Duty and not have to think about the propaganda. It is a privilege (and ignorant) to say “it’s not political”, “it’s just pixels”, or “it’s not real”. It is a privilege to be able to just turn the game off and never have to think about war, and the impact of the representation of the characters, and the real-life events that these games base themselves on. And this isn’t just a CoD issue, this is something that should be considered with every piece of media you engage with.

There is no such thing as a “politics-free” book/movie/game/show. Everything carries the biases - conscious or subconscious - of the person or people who created it. There is no such thing as media or fiction not having an effect on real life, especially in a fandom for what is essentially War Crimes: The Game.

I’m going to take a quote from this post by @yeyinde.

"It’s incredibly egregious to pretend that the media you consume isn’t based, in some part, on real life or has no repercussions outside of it just being fiction. And it’s especially dishonest to say this isn’t the case within the COD fandom when people have said that the erasure of Gaz from the fandom in favour of a white character is traumatising. The portrayal of the Middle East is traumatising. The portrayal of Makarov in fiction as an uwu-sympathetic babbie is traumatising. The portrayal of the military as heroes is traumatising. These are real people expressing real emotions and bringing up important matters that impact them long after they’ve logged out of tumblr. Just because they stop being relevant to you after that does not, and SHOULD NOT, matter. Their trauma, their feelings, and their interpretations shouldn’t be ignored in favour of some catch-all excuse to limit your responsibility as a consumer to think critically about the media you’re devouring just because it has no consequences for you."

Fiction mirrors real life whether you want to admit it or not. It shows real biases, and it affects real people. Participating in fiction and the surrounding culture does not magically absolve you of consequences. It does not suddenly mean you get a free pass at things like sexism, racism, ableism, colorism, romanticization of abuse and sexual assault, etc. just because your escapist fantasies are conveniently free of people who are different from you.

It may be your fiction, but it is someone else’s non-fiction, and you do not get to decide that it isn’t or that the impact doesn’t matter because it’s about fictional characters.

I'm going to link another post from @yeyinde with another quote here.

"It’s easy to get swept up into something when you have no tangible ties to the effects of what’s being portrayed, which can lead to making dismissive or hurtful statements out of pure ignorance. My biggest gripe was the excuses being laundered out and (either unintentionally or intentionally) giving the creators a pass for what they created and the harm they caused other people to experience. Just because they did not experience the same trauma, it does not diminish its impact on others. This is a very important distinction, which I think was being missed."

Does this mean you can’t ever write or read about traumatic things, or that you can’t enjoy the CoD games ever again? No.

But I need you all to understand that you can criticize the media you enjoy. You should criticize the media you enjoy. Criticism does not mean never letting yourself enjoy a piece of media again. Criticism does not mean trying to get a character or creator “cancelled”. Criticism does not automatically equal hate.

Criticism is an act of love, and it is necessary when deconstructing and confronting biases - both yours and other people's.

Resources To Support Palestine

The lovely @moondirti provided some organizations where you can donate to support the humanitarian aid in Gaza with the note:

It's important to acknowledge that, while limited aid is being allowed through, recent negotiations have allowed your charity to reach the people of Palestine.

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS

PALESTINE CHILDREN RELIEF FUND

UNITED MISSION FOR RELIEF – PALESTINE EMERGENCY

ANERA

Onto the actual game.

The 141

I don't know what happened during development between this game and MW2, but the relationship between the members of the 141 is severely lacking. We get the usual Soap and Ghost banter for one mission, because, let’s be real, that's what got a lot of people into the last game, but that's about it? There’s nothing new, nothing added to their relationships, and the game sticks to the same duos (Ghost/Soap & Price/Gaz) that we’ve had for the past two games. Even Soap and Ghost’s banter during the attack on Milena’s private island doesn’t have the same impact on the characters as their banter during the Alone mission in MW2. They get a few lines about Soap admiring Milena’s cars and Ghost taunting him about marrying an Oligarch, and…that’s it until the cutscene where they interrogate her.

There’s maybe a few quippy lines here and there, but overall the 141 gives off the same feeling as a group of semi-friendly co-workers that sometimes work on the same project rather than an actual team that has shed blood, sweat, and tears with each other.

This would’ve been such a great time to explore deeper into the team dynamics, show us pairings we don’t get to see as often and build on those relationships, make us really feel for these characters on a personal level. In the original series, you got a feel for every character and their team dynamics, and the player felt the impact of each death as they watched the other characters react (something I’ll talk about later). With this game, we get…what? Four men that desperately need a lozenge throwing a few sassy one-liners at each other and giving each other a harsh pat on the back like a bunch of dads at a barbecue?

I feel like so much of the heavy labor regarding the 141 in the reboot is done through fanfiction at this point because this game especially gives us barely anything to go on, and that’s such a missed opportunity on Activision’s part considering how so much of MW2’s popularity came from the relationship built between Soap and Ghost. It all just feels so hollow and surface-level; there’s no depth here, no attempt to build a connection from the player to this group as a team. In my opinion, Activision relies too heavily on the older fanbase’s connection to the original series, and the newer fanbase’s self-created characterizations, to fill in the blanks so they can leave these characters as empty and vanilla as possible in order to appeal to a broader audience.

And they’ve still somehow managed to fail at that. Speaking of failing...

Graves and Shepherd

Graves should’ve died in that fucking tank, and I will stand by that opinion even after I die. It was such a cop-out to have him live, and for him to suddenly come back with the excuse, “Well, I wasn’t in that tank, blah, blah, blah.”

This is supposed to be a game series where characters die and stay dead. The characters die. Some die heroically, some die horrifically, some die quickly, some die painfully slow, most die bloody, but they die. It’s a staple of the series, like Game of Thrones pre-season 5. I don’t know if Activision didn’t know what to do with his character, or if they realized he was semi-popular with the fans and decided to magically bring him back via deus ex remote-controlled tank, or if they were trying to “subvert expectations” and give us all a little surprise plot twist, but it sucked.

Also, no one checked the tank for a body? That seems to be something everyone has a problem doing in these games, and I don’t know what Activision thinks that does for the 141, but what it does do is make these elite military officials look incompetent as hell because their “dead” enemies keep coming back.

There was nothing different that Graves did in this game from what he did in the previous game. We get the same air support mission from him that we got last game, and really that’s it. Okay sure, he’s working with Farah now, that’s a little different, but what did he do in that mission? Give her vague instructions on where to find some GPS trackers and then give her more vague instructions on where to find the missile containers to slap the trackers on? He could’ve easily been replaced with one of Farah’s people who scouted ahead, or Alex, or a decorative cowboy hat, and the mission would have gone the exact same.

Other than that he spends the entire game hiding behind Shepherd like a scared child up until the end when he ultimately turns on Shepherd, and even that felt so blah. He faces no consequences for his (racist) actions in Las Almas other than Gaz refusing to shake his hand, he faces no consequences for betraying the 141, going so far as to lie that it even happened in front of Congress, and he gets off completely free as far as we know. There was no point to his character, no point to bringing him back, no point to him being in this game at all, and if I find the Activision employee who decided to keep him alive I will be throwing hands expeditiously.

Shepherd was…there, I guess? I’m sure he was meant to be a menacing, sly, back-stabbing character, but he came off as more irritating than anything. His rescue mission felt akin to being forced to babysit your annoying younger sibling who questions everything you do. They give you a cute little nod to the OG series with his cutscene with the 141 in the snow (because Activision has to rely on nostalgia and easter eggs since they know this game is emptier than the promises of an absentee father), but most of it is spent with Shepherd preaching about how great he is and threatening the 141 like he’s been doing the entire game. I’m sure he’s supposed to come off as clever, outsmarting the 141 and tricking them into rescuing him - this big, bad, battle-hardened General - but all of that is undercut by him getting captured to begin with.

The General Shepherd in the original series killed two of the player characters. How am I supposed to be intimidated by this nagging grandpa briskly jogging through the snow behind me in his ugly pajama jumpsuit? Even his ending is lackluster. He’s outwitted in front of Congress by Graves of all people, and then we get a cutscene where Price shoots him off-screen. That’s it. There was no satisfaction like in the original series, no triumph, no sense of vengeance, only a tired feeling of thank god I don’t have to deal with this anymore. This constant attempt at build-up in this reboot series of Shepherd being this looming figure over the 141 ends not with a bang, and not even with a whimper.

Makarov

I’m going to start this off by saying I mean absolutely no hate to Julian Kostov, Makarov’s actor, he definitely did his job.

Unfortunately, that job was playing a random Russian man that happened to have the same name as the Vladimir Makarov from the original series. He’s literally just a dude. There’s nothing particularly menacing about him, nothing that really screams Leader of an Ultranationalist group, nothing that would set him apart in a line-up of kind-of-gruff white men. I wasn’t expecting him to be some over-the-top supervillain, but he feels too normal, too regular, too everyday. Maybe that was the point Activision was trying to make - that having a villain with too-sharp features, eyebrows with in-your-face arches, and two-toned eyes is realistically too much - but it feels like they leaned too far in the opposite direction to compensate.

How am I supposed to take Makarov seriously when they gave him such big, brown, babygirl eyes? Though I realize this may be a character model issue because everyone in this game seemed to have huge doe eyes at one point or another (looking directly at you and those unblinking baby blues, Soap).

The first time we get a proper cutscene with Makarov, he shoots one of his own men – one who had questioned his plan in the rescue mission – and he gives some passionate Make Russia Great Again speech that involves a lot of big gestures, promises of showing the world “true power”, and him being weirdly touchy with one of his men. It’s not a bad scene, and I think Julian really shines here as Makarov. It’s a little in-your-face for me, but overall not a bad introduction to what is supposed to be the overarching big bad for the rest of the series. It gives you a good enough sense of danger, and just enough worry for the main crew as they get ready to go up against this guy.

Unfortunately, the rest of the game doesn’t really follow through on that. Makarov spends more time monologuing, asking his men “philosophical” questions about prisoners and guards, and cryptically foreshadowing at the 141 than he does doing…anything. We are told about all of the bad deeds he’s done. We are told how evil he is. We are told that Makarov needs to be stopped at all costs. The only problem is, we aren’t shown any of that. We see the aftermath of Verdansk, a distant explosion after Makarov has been captured, but we never see Makarov do any of that. When we do get to see Makarov, his men are doing all of the dirty work while he stands around and looks evil. It’s his men fighting and killing guards to get him out of prison, his men attacking Farah and her soldiers, his men launching missiles topped with biochemicals, his men forcing Samara to blow up a plane, his men guarding Milena and his finances. The most he does during any of these scenes is order his men around and give evil villain speeches to give the audience exposition about why he’s doing all this.

We probably see more of Makarov’s shirtless Tinder pic than we see him in action.

In the original series, we see Makarov being at the forefront of his movement, unafraid to get his hands dirty. He is part of the group that commits the massacre/terrorist attack on Zakhaev International Airport, he kills the two FSO agents protecting President Vorshevsky, he’s the one who shoots and kills Yuri, and that’s only part of what we see in-game. Sure, we’re told about his other crimes, but we’re shown enough to back up the claims that he is evil. In this game, he kills two people himself, one of them being his own soldier that I mentioned earlier, and the other being Soap (and we’ll get to that later). Two extremely lackluster deaths that are over before you get the chance to really digest them. Maybe he kills more people during the intro mission when you rescue him, but it’s during gameplay and easily missed when you’re too busy trying to fight your way out of this Arkham-esque prison. I think I could look past it if he wasn’t also present during some of the scenes where his men are carrying out his atrocities for him, but instead, Activision chose to have him in the background standing there…menacingly.

I don’t want to say Makarov was a bad villain; he was certainly better than Shepherd and Graves. I just think Activision made very strange choices with his character that resulted in him becoming this weird mishmash of an average monologuing movie villain and the micromanaging boss that stands over your shoulder, and it took a lot of the “oomph” out of his character for me.

Soap's Death

I hope whoever made this decision at Activision has to live the rest of their life constantly feeling like they have to sneeze and are never able to. What the fuck happened here? In what world did Soap’s death make any kind of sense here? This felt like they knew fans were expecting someone to die (and they already retconned the yeehaw war criminal) so they put a bunch of names in a hat and had some poor unpaid intern pick one out.

I have not been quiet about how much death I wanted in this game. I expected at least two deaths, with one of them preferably being Price. Going into this I was prepared to lose characters, and I was prepared to lose them to a heroic sacrifice, to an exhaustingly epic gunfight, to an explosion in a clocktower, to literally anything, but I was not prepared to lose a character to bad writing. And that’s what Soap’s death was. There is no build-up to it throughout the game other than a cryptic, “I’ll see you again, MacTavish.” from Makarov in a flashback scene. There’s no exploration of Soap’s character arc, his background, his family. There’s nothing.

Price and Soap try to defuse a bomb, Makarov shows up and his men overpower them, Makarov goes for the kill on Price, and instead shoots Soap when Soap tries to stop him. The entire cutscene can be summed up as A Series Of Conveniences. Makarov conveniently gets to Soap and Price just as they’re about to defuse the bomb, the officers they have with them are conveniently incompetent to stop any of Makarov’s men, Makarov’s men conveniently don’t notice Soap getting up to stop him from shooting Price, Ghost and Gaz are conveniently one second too late save Soap, and a train conveniently passes by to let Makarov make his escape. It’s over in less than a minute, and there’s little to no reaction from the surviving 141 members before the game starts shoving in your face that there’s a bomb you have to defuse that has conveniently not gone off yet and was conveniently missed in all of the gunfire.

Aside from the bullshit way it happened, the most disappointing thing here was the cutting of Soap’s arc and the lack of reaction from Price, Ghost, and Gaz. There was no growth for Soap in this game, no building of his story that would make his death feel like a satisfying conclusion. We just got the same Soap we’ve had in the rest of the series, and then he was gone. And the fact that we got absolutely nothing from the team in that moment was so…frustrating. Yeah, Ghost kneels by his body, and gives a brief, “Johnny!” but that’s…it? Price says nothing. Gaz rushes to the bomb and says nothing. After that moment in the cutscene, Ghost says and does nothing. There’s not even a hitch in their voices as they finish disarming the bomb. In Soap’s original death, we got Price screaming and begging over his body. We got to see his grief and pain and hurt at losing someone so close to him. Here we get…them standing over the body, a cut to black, and then a funeral cutscene that doesn’t feel earned full of commiserations that feel empty, hollow, and generic.

Maybe I’m too nostalgic for the Captain MacTavish we had in the original series, and the death they gave him that was impactful enough that people still talk about it to this day. Maybe there’s something meaningful here that I’m not seeing. Or maybe Activision can’t write for shit and rushed Soap’s death without a care just like they rushed this game as a quick cash grab to ride the hype of MW2.

Whatever the reason, these characters deserved far better.

Soap deserved better.

And I deserved to see a rebooted Captain MacTavish.

Gameplay

This section is going to be short because I didn’t spend money on this game to actually play it, I only watched gameplay. The general consensus seems to be that this game is nothing but glorified DMZ, and I can’t disagree with that. Supposedly, at least two of the campaign settings were ripped straight from Warzone, the Gulag and Verdansk Stadium, and I think that really shows how much of this game was slapped together because Activision wanted to hurry to release so they could capitalize off the CoD hype as much as possible. The combat is the same in every mission, the air support mission is as boring as ever, the NPC AI is all over the place, and the character models constantly shift from being really good to mobile game bad within the same cutscene.

I’m not saying I could do better, but I don’t think I could do worse. You can take that however you’d like.

The Writing/Storyline

Starting off, I’m going to say this with my whole chest:

Main story content should be in the main story, and not in optional or additional content.

Look, I don’t mind an easter egg here and there in DLC. I don’t mind the mention of a big bad in an extra, paid quest to build up hype. What I do mind is when the understanding of the main storyline of your game is dependent on things that happen in content that players are required to complete outside of the main game.

Do you know how we found out Alex was alive? An optional Raid.

Do you know how we learned Graves was a little bitch and wasn’t in the tank? An optional Raid.

Do you know how we–

You get my point. These kinds of reveals should have been in the main storyline because they pertain to the main storyline. Otherwise, you have people reacting with confusion because the main campaign was all they played, and they were left under the assumption that Alex may or may not be dead, that Graves burned in that tank in Las Almas, that Farah’s brother (Remember him? Activision doesn’t.) was alive and out there somewhere, etc, etc. It feels like they’re trying to do what Marvel does when they interweave their cinematic universe with their television shows: leave references to things only the more committed audience - the audience who will watch every show, play every game, see every movie, buy every DLC - would understand while punishing everyone else. It feels lazy on Activision’s end, and cheapens any kind of suspense they may leave us with going forward.

I wouldn’t even be surprised to see something like “Oh, Soap died and Makarov escaped at the end of the main campaign? Just kidding! They revealed in the newest Raid that Soap actually survived, and Makarov got hit by that train at the end.”

Outside of that, the whole storyline just feels unnecessary. This whole game feels unnecessary. I know there are rumors that this was meant to be a DLC for MW2 that got extended into a full game because Activision wanted more money, and if I didn’t already believe that, the writing would confirm it for me. Nothing feels fleshed out. Not the story, not the plot, not the characters. It all feels very surface-level and shallow, like more of the exact same thing we got in the last game, but somehow worse. The banter between the 141 is just not there, the tell don’t show when it comes to Makarov, the rapid POV switching, it all feels so thrown together, so last minute, like the writers had no idea what they wanted to do up until release.

One thing that really bothered me was the constant death fakeouts. It felt like every mission something awful would happen and one character would be left with their fate unknown in a dramatic cut to black as a cheap way to build suspense…only for that suspense to be immediately undercut by showing them alive in the very next cutscene. This happens with Farah (twice), Price, Alex (partially, there’s no cut to black, but there is a fakeout that he has been captured), and Laswell all within the first half of the game. At some point, it starts to get irritating and kills any and all suspense going forward. I was spoiled on Soap’s death, I knew it was coming before I watched the cutscenes, but by the time I got there, I was almost expecting Soap to show up in the next sequence without a scratch on him. Up until that point, I had stopped caring when characters were in danger because the writing led me to believe everyone was safe. There’s a way to build suspense, and every writer understands that, a majority of the time, less is more, so I don’t get how this went so unbelievably wrong.

The characterization is also so weirdly off. In what world would John “Somebody has to make the enemy scared of the dark. We get dirty, and the world stays clean.” Price not immediately take a kill shot when he has Makarov in custody? Soap was ready to kill every person he talked to in this game, so why did he let Makarov live? Why would Gaz advocate for giving Shepherd a gun after his multiple betrayals that he shows no remorse for? Why would Farah continue to begrudgingly work with Graves after learning about Las Almas? Why is Makarov over-explaining his plans to his victims?

I’m not saying I expect Shakespeare-level writing from a Call of Duty game, but I expect something better than whatever this is.

I don’t know who Activision hired for their writing team, but there are so many instances here where I almost have to believe that they may not have hired one at all.

Overall Thoughts

I wish I had a time machine so I could go back to who I was before I watched this campaign. This whole game was nothing but a DLC lazily stretched to two hours with assets taken from other games and a storyline that was slapped together using blindfolds, a dartboard, and too much alcohol. Please do not use your money to buy this game. Your money would be much better spent donating to help Palestine.

#moth talks #game got me so heated i'm using proper grammar and punctuation and shit #call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare 3 #modern warfare iii #call of duty mw3 #call of duty mwiii #cod mwiii #tw: racism #tw: islamophobia

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