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ahungeringknife · 7 months

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365: June 3

what's the fun of reviving dead bodies if some people from ancient history don't show up without any memories ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ So I revived an old Egyptian pharaoh and made her a lesbian because that's fun

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It was dark where she was risen except for some dim safety lights and a light in her face. She squinted up at the light like it was the god of the sun and raised her hand to it. It spoke words and she couldn't understand them. "Just stop talking," because its words gave her a headache. But the light did not stop speaking but now sounded curious.

It floated away and finally she sat up. She was naked except for some horrible cracked and shattering pieces of linen that had turned brown and brittle with age. Despite sitting up she couldn't see much else as she was in a box higher than her sitting height. It was several nested boxes and she slowly got to her feet out of the fragile wooden box.

She took two tries to jump onto the edge of the largest box so she could get out of the box and on the other side she turned around she saw it was a beautiful case made of gold. Or at least gilt in gold. The entire side was done in beautiful hieroglyphs and she put her hand to them, tracing the carvings and paint with her brown hand. She could read the hieroglyphs. This was her sarcophagus that would take her to the afterlife where she would live as a god.

"Can you understand me now?" she jumped at the voice and spun towards the light who came upon her again.

"Yes," she said slowly, her voice cool.

"Great! I didn't expect to have to learn Late Egyptian on the fly," said the little star of light cheerfully.

"Who are you? Were you sent by-" she turned back and looked at the sarcophagus and read the hieroglyphs to remind herself, "Ra?" she asked the light.

"Hmmm. Sort of I guess. A greater being did send me but not Ra," the light said. "I was sent by the Traveler."

"And what does this god want with me that it would awaken me from my eternal slumber as a god myself?" she asked the light.

The light didn't answer right away, considering what to tell her. Or perhaps thinking of a lie. "If it makes you feel better most people in this time consider your kind gods still," the light offered. "But the Traveler made me to find someone who were strong of will and sound of mind and with a desire to bring peace to fight against the Darkness. So I reached out to you and you reached back. So here you are."

She frowned slightly in thought. "I see. So I am to be a champion of one of the more powerful gods?"

"You could say that yes," the light said.

"This is agreeable. Now why am I in a glass box?"

"Oh! This is an old museum. Let me get you out of here- and some clothes. Oh I'm so sorry I left you completely naked. Hardly befitting a Guardian," the light apologized.

She gasped when the light shimmered and so did she and clothes appeared on her body. Pants and a shirt and while she couldn't remember ever wearing clothes her body felt restricted by these. She hadn't even minded being naked really. Then the light blinked and so did she and she was on the other side of the glass. "There we go," the light said.

"What is your name, light of this Traveler?"

"Cleo!" the light said cheerfully, "Cleopatra but everyone calls me Cleo."

"A good name for doing your duty to our Traveler," and she finally looked around. Cleo's light illuminated more of the museum and it was a darkened crypt. Statues and artifacts hung behind glass or propped up on pedestals and sat in blacked out cases. Dust covered everything. She walked around the exhibit and as she looked at the relics felt a deep familiarity with them. "What are these things here?" she asked Cleo.

"Oh. These are some of the items and jewelry found in your tomb," Cleo said.

"Why are they on display?"

"So people could marvel at them, and you," Cleo said.

"But these things are mine?" she asked looking at a beautiful necklace made of gold beaten and carved into the shape of a beetle with great sweeping wings like the rays of the sun.

"Yes- oh!"

She punched the glass hard and was satisfied when it shattered. Cleo had graciously given her gloves so no glass shards stuck in her hand. She was surprised it had broken so easily. She was not the most strong armed women you'd met. She reached into the case and took out the necklace. It was heavy and put it over her neck. It was a familiar weight she couldn't remember but her body remembered.

She went to a few more displays and did the same, breaking the glass and picking out the items. Beautiful golden earrings she wore in the several holes on each ear and rings for every finger made of gold with fat jewels or lapis lazuli gems in them. She adorned herself in the gold of her tomb before coming to an old banner hung on the fall. Cleo lit up the banner when she stopped at it.

A likeness of her own face looked back at her from the banner and next to her was a cartouche in vibrant golden lines on a black field. She'd seen some smaller cartouches as she broke the displays but had paid them no mind as they had had other names on them. Names of her servants in death, names of her loyal pets and steeds or her long dead husband or the names of her ancestors or the gods. But this was her.

"Nefertiti," she said looking at the cartouche and the shockingly good illustration of her own face displayed in regal poise against the black banner. She looked at Cleo, "I'm Nefertiti," she said.

"Well yeah. The one and only god queen of Egypt," Cleo said brightly. "I was so excited when you responded. I tried some other Pharaohs but they all acted too good to join the Light. But not you," and Nefertiti felt great affection when Cleo suddenly pressed against her cheek like a loving cat.

Nefertiti smiled slightly. "So I'm to help fight for this Traveler? I assume not in this place full of the dead?"

"No. No no of course not! But I didn't want to interrupt. We just have to get close to a beacon and I can call the Pilgrim Guard and someone can come pick us up and take us to the City. That's where the Traveler is. It's where other warriors of the Light are. It's where everything is!"

Nefertiti nodded. She looked one more time at her banner and cartouche before, to Cleo, she said, "Then let us leave this place and go to the Traveler, my little light." Cleo bobbed cheerfully in the air and flew off. Nefertiti followed after.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #original guardians

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alyss-erulisse · 2 years

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Why Thief King Bakura’s Name is Actually… Bakhura

Somehow, I came up with the same idea independently a year ago, but I am only reading this now.

Why Thief King Bakura’s Name is Actually… Bakhura

“So a couple weeks ago I was trying to figure Bakura's name into hieroglyphics because I'm obsessive compulsive like that, and... I put together [this] spelling.”

Here was the thought process I went through a year ago:

Bakhu – a mystical mountain from which the sun rises in the east

Ra – the sun god

Adding these two words together, we get:

Bakhura – name of ancient Egyptian origin meaning “Ra rises out of Bakhu” or “the sun rises”

It is quite beautiful, naming a child after the sunrise. Such a name hints at the joy and hope they have brought into your life.

I never gave much thought into the hieroglyphic spelling considering that a commoner would not likely have the knowledge or need to write their own name.

Additionally, in that culture, the names of those who gained infamy were intentionally carved from the record as a way to kill their souls.

No one is going to eternalize a villain.

And here is what I found today:

fictatious:

So a couple weeks ago I was trying to figure Bakura’s name into hieroglyphics because I’m obsessive compulsive like that, and at the time, using my Wikipedia skills, I put together

as a spelling. From there I went and made up a new romanized spelling to use in fics, to help differentiate between Bakuras and because it was cool.

So anyway, yesterday I was researching other things for a Millennium-World fic I’m working on (in which the end-boss shall now be called ‘Apep’ because 'Zork’ is a stupid name with no historical or mythological precedent) and I came across the name 'Bakhu’ sitting right there on Apep’s Wikipedia page, at which point I went 'Well damn! Looks like I have to do some recalculating!’

I got onto little_details and managed to find somebody with the knowledge to correct the bits I’d pieced together and get the whole thing worked out into proper Egyptian and such. So here’s the break-down:

The Bakhu Mountains

are the pillars that hold up the Eastern side of the sky, the point from which the sun rises. Before dawn, Apep lay in wait behind them to attack Ra and his entourage aboard the solar boat. Apep was eventually defeated, but he is an exceptionally strong demon-god (and Zork’s resume was stolen right off of his desk).

The last two characters in the Bakhu Mountain’s name (D-7 & N-25) are the silent determinatives for vision and mountain, I take those two off and add the phonetics for 'Ra’ (the same as are usually used as the phonetics in the god’s name):

Focusing on a child or young-teen Bakhura, prior to Thief-Kingery, the phonetic name would probably be followed up with the determinative A-17, meaning child or orphan:

After taking the title of 'Thief King’, Bakura would probably write his own name with the determinatives A-59 and A-23:

People on the Pharaoh’s side of things would probably use A-14

to refer to him, and probably wouldn’t have the phonetic part of his name because you don’t write down the names of people you don’t like. If he was written about, they’d probably just call him 'a thief’ or 'that ass-hole.’

So this writing of the name can originally, when his parents gave it to him, have meant 'sunrise’, and oh isn’t that a sweet little name for a child, but then it’s quite versatile for the Thief King because he can also interpret it as 'a trap for Ra,’ Ra being the primary Egyptian god and therefore symbolically potentially referring to Egypt and the Pharaoh.

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pot-of-terv · 3 years

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Disclaimer: This starts soft but very quickly goes to a place I did NOT expect it to go so, just, be prepared. I guess there were some things my muse just couldn’t leave untouched :_D There’s also an additional drawing in there somewhere among the text. The ending is kind of a cliffhanger (dun dun duuun... part three is coming!!) but it’s happy (hurt/comfort y’all, MY BRAND)!

Also I have to say- oh my goodness this ended up having over 2,000 words and I’ve never written a fic this long! This feels pretty amazing but also, very scary, because as you know I’m a Finn so English is not my first language and this far I’ve stuck to just writing itty bitty things. Writing a story with multiple parts is also new to me, so wow, actually, thank you PuzzleJune for making me challenge myself in fresh and exciting ways 🥺

tw: breakdown

PuzzleJune2021, Week Two: Space (Quiet)

It is mesmerising. Intoxicating, even, Atem muses as he reaches up to rub his own sleep-soft face, eyes never leaving the still sleeping figure beside him. He shifts to lay on his side, slowly, with deliberate movements, trying to not disturb the quiet of the early morning.

Watching him sleep like this... I can feel the bed move when he moves and his warmth whenever he's close enough. I never had that before, he thinks and his heart clenches. I have it now.

Yuugi snorts in his sleep and Atem can't help but smile. That boy... no, that young man, has been through so much, too much, and yet he still sleeps so soundly. It's nothing short of incredible and the pharaoh wonders if he's ever met anyone more deserving of respect and admiration. Their journey thus far has only lasted for a couple of years and during that short time, the former spirit of the Millenium Puzzle has had the first-row seat to witnessing Yuugi's strength, his growth - how he slowly but surely had begun to trust himself.

Atem turns his gaze away from Yuugi and mulls over that thought. It hurts him somewhere deep in his core to remember how little worth Yuugi had seen in himself during those first months after Atem's consciousness awakened. He touches his chest where his heart is and leaves his hand there, feeling the slow rhythm beating under his palm.

That feeling of self-doubt could as well be his own, for he did think he was Yuugi for a while back then. It's a troubling realisation and he frowns at the ceiling. Despite not having any memories, how many of those insecurities had been Atem's own that he subconsciously reflected towards Yuugi's heart and by doing so unknowingly meddled with Yuugi's self-image as a whole? Objectively he knows that his emergence helped Yuugi gain confidence even though he didn't remember those first few times Atem took his place, but subjectively...? Atem's brows knit tighter together and he balls the hand that rests on his chest into a fist.

To call these thoughts troubling is an understatement. Suddenly Atem feels uncomfortably restless, he can't keep still, he needs space, he has to move. But moving would mean leaving the warm blankets and the even warmer form next to him and risk waking him in the process.

His chest feels so tight and it aches in a way Atem hasn't felt in millennia and he squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and with one swift movement pushes the blankets off of himself, sits up and rolls to the side to plant his feet onto the floor. The wood is cool under the bare soles of his feet and that sudden feeling makes him pause for a moment. He releases the breath he was holding.

It's almost funny how he already feels better. He glances over his shoulder to see if he had woken Yuugi up but the other youth seems undisturbed, still fast asleep. Relieved, Atem stands up... and doesn't know what to do. It's still practically night time and the house is silent. Mama Mutou and Grandpa will be getting up in one to two hours and Yuugi much later than that if his previous findings are to be trusted. Normally he would happily snooze the morning away with Yuugi but he doesn't want to go back to bed, the restlessness still buzzing under his skin even though that unpleasant tightness in his chest has ebbed and is now just a nuisance instead of actual, painful anxiety.

He turns around to face the bed so he can take another look at Yuugi, properly. A glance wasn't enough. Will never be enough, he realises all of a sudden. I want to be looking at Yuugi, and only Yuugi, forever. How can his heart feel so big and full but so small at the same time?

Atem is overwhelmed, not yet used to the absolute link between his feelings and his physical senses, and he lifts his hand once more to his chest, almost desperately grasping his shirt and pressing his fist against his heart, to feel the beat of it, and the warmth of his body.

He has this body now and he should be so, so thankful for it, but at this moment he can only feel guilt. He loves Yuugi but has still put him through so much and he knows, oh how he knows, that the trip to Egypt broke him. Atem had felt Yuugi mourn him weeks beforehand, felt his grief he so valiantly tried to conceal - too bad their bond at that point was the strongest it had ever been and Atem knew. It took everything in him to keep on going, to keep on telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this was how he could repay Yuugi's kindness and let him go on with his life, let him be free. He had heard the modern phrase “if you love them let them go”, and wouldn't that have been so grand? To prove his love in such a poetic, profound way?

All that in spite of Yuugi's feelings screaming at him that to be separated was the last thing he wanted.

Atem chuckles, a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite having shared such an extraordinary bond, communication had never been their strongest point, duels usually excluded, and talking about their feelings was not an exception. Still isn’t. They both had just kept on doing what they thought was the best for the other and in the process ended up wounding each other in ways that Atem isn't sure he can ever truly understand. Yesterday he had come down to the kitchen to find Yuugi folding laundry, eyes puffy and red, yet when he talked he sounded so happy. Atem had left it at that because there's nothing he could do when confronted by that smile that can put even the Sun in shade.

Slowly he realises that he's been staring at his partner for such a long time that it must be bordering on creepy. How did he get here from that warmth he first woke up to, from that love he so deeply feels for Yuugi? Why hasn’t he thought about these things before? It's like all he has in his head are questions with no answers to calm his mind. It's only been a week since... since it all should've ended, but didn't, all because of Atem's selfishness. Selfishness... and love. His own heart had broken when his life points counted down to zero and he saw the utter hopelessness he felt surface in his heart reflected right back at him on Yuugi's face. The memory of it is still so strong that he has to grit his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling.

He hadn’t been able to stand that expression, to stand the knowledge that he was the cause of it. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough. The pride he had felt toward Yuugi's skill was completely overshadowed by the grief that hit him in waves, his legs feeling like lead as he slowly walked to Yuugi, his own voice distant to his ears as he offered words of consolation and praise. Empty words, they were, he knew it then and he knows it now. How could he ever leave this person who had gone through so much for him, because of him, who had loved him so fully, who had risked it all to be there for him in his quest to regain his memories even when knowing that the price for that would be too steep to consider if Yuugi ever stopped to do that?

Atem had never wanted to leave. He had learned to live again, to have friends, and grow as a person, no matter how minuscule that growth might have been. Yuugi had been him and then Yuugi had become his world. There's no other way to explain it. As much as Atem had longed for his memories, for those people he loved and lost all those thousands of years ago, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another family. Even when the prize would be to regain his first one.

But he had to. He had thought he had to.

Yet when he was just about to take the last step, he had faltered. Had wondered - does it have to be this way? What if there's another choice he could make?

And the gods had answered him. He didn't have to beg, he didn't have to fight, he just had to ask.

Just ask.

It had been so simple, in the end, so effortless. Of course, Atem asked for that third choice - or didn't really even ask, he didn't dare, he wished for it, his heart on the verge of breaking a second time. He had been painfully aware of his friends behind him, holding their breaths, waiting for the end. Atem felt their feelings wrap around him like a cloak and he bore the weight of it, accepted it, as he couldn't quite believe that it would be that easy to stay. So he had wished.

And that wish had been granted.

And now he is here.

Standing in the middle of the floor in Yuugi's room while Yuugi sleeps, hands closed into fists, both grasping his shirt now, holding back tears that threaten to spill forth. Wondering why did he even put Yuugi through all that, when in the end, it was for nothing? Oh, he thinks, oh, how it hurts. His own shortcomings, his own pain, the pain that he had caused others. Especially the pain that he had caused Yuugi. He hadn’t deserved it, he never deserved something so cruel and insincere as Atem's decision to leave had been.

A sob wrangles itself up and out of his mouth, he's not able to stop it in time and that breaks his resolve. He sways on his feet as tears force their way out and streak his cheeks, fall into his shirt and seep into the fabric as he hiccups and tries half-heartedly to stop it. He shouldn't be crying, not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself - he should be the one to take responsibility, to carry that burden without a hitch. But, the thing is… at this moment, he’s no longer the prince-then-pharaoh from 3000 years ago. He’s no longer the amnesiac spirit occupying the Puzzle. He’s not the King of Games.

At this moment, he’s just a 16-year-old boy who is desperately trying to deal with every responsibility he’s imagined are only his to bear and failing spectacularly. So he cries, and cries, and he can no longer see with how blurry his eyes have gone. He prays Yuugi won't wake up to it, he just has to suffer through it and he'll be fine. Crying is fine, actually. He would laugh at himself if he could - aren't tears an actual luxury, after all? He wasn't able to cry his own tears with his own body before, but now he can.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Atem's heart drops into his stomach - oh no, now he's woken up - then another on the other side, then a tug, and Atem follows blindly. He's guided back to the bed and coaxed to sit down where a warm body presses against him and he's enveloped in an embrace.

Atem finds that he can't talk, he tries to draw breath to get the words out but sobs are the only thing he can produce and finally, he hears a voice call his name. It's so soft and warm and loving that Atem somehow feels worse and buries his head into Yuugi’s shoulder, his chest heaving and he almost wails from the struggle of it.

“Shh, other me. Cry it out. It helps. I know.”

He listens to Yuugi and does just that. It’s not easy to give up the reins but with Yuugi by his side, he finds the will to allow himself to succumb. He clutches his partner's shirt, holds him and is held in return, and lets himself cry. Lets his tears come like he's never done before and faced with the force of them, he feels like there's no end to it.

But there is an end. After a period of time that feels like an eternity, his sobs subside, his tears slow down, and he feels like he can finally loosen his hold of Yuugi's shirt to let blood flow into his fingers again. His nose feels snotty and he's sure there's no dry spot left on his partner's clothes and somehow that thought makes him laugh.

“See? All better now,” Yuugi murmurs against his temple and presses his lips there. That sign of affection almost makes Atem's eyes well up but he squeezes them shut, refusing to start crying all over again. He feels drained and empty and he's pretty sure he should be ashamed. He had woken Yuugi up and made him comfort him without asking but all he can feel is gratitude. Gratitude and love and endless adoration.

“Aibou,” he sniffles, voice congested and raw. He means to thank him but his throat closes up, yet Yuugi seems to catch his meaning.

“No need,” the shorter of the two says and Atem can feel his smile against his skin, “it's okay. You're okay, we're okay, everything's okay.”

Atem wants to argue but finds no energy for it. And - as he thinks about it, he realises that Yuugi is right.

They're okay.

He wraps his arms properly around Yuugi and squeezes, sighing softly. His mind is comfortably quiet now and he presses his ear against Yuugi's chest, listening to the beat of his heart (his heart's heart?) and feeling his own fall smoothly into the same rhythm. It's natural, it's right.

“I think,” he manages to croak out, “that we need to talk.”

Yuugi holds him closer and nods before pressing his face into Atem’s hair.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved, “we sure do, other me.”

#ygo dm #yugioh #puzzleshipping #puzzlespace #puzzlejune2021 #puzzlejune #puzzlequiet #atem #yuugi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #fanart #fanfic #this bad boy can fit so many headcanons and projection in it #i am in the possession of the crybaby beam and i'm not afraid to use it (for real though. my agenda is to Normalize Boys Crying)#(no i will not be taking criticism)

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katsukisblackteddy · 3 years

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The Warrior Queen & Her Pharaoh: Part I

Part I: In the Beginning

In honor of Black History Month (that’s coming up), and because I’m a nerd for mythology of any type, I thought it would be fun to write about one of my favorite time periods, Ancient Egypt.

We didn’t really get to spend much time on them in school, and I love learning about these powerful Egyptian gods, goddess, pharaohs, and queens.

So N E ways...ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS...um WTF ILY <3

I TOOK SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES (all characters are 18+ in this)

Pairings: pharaoh!god! Bakugou x warrior!princess! Reader Warnings: cursing, disrespectful people, bad bitch Mitsuki Description: Before the new pharaoh can be officially crowned, he must wed. You, the queen of a large warrior tribe called, The Zodos Tribe, are in the same position...the only problem? The future pharaoh is a bit of an ass.

*Extra info: this is written in third person so even though this is a reader insert, I’ll be writing it as if you’re another character so basically no me/my*

and yes, I’m aware it is kinda short and Bakugou isn’t in it that much, but it’s to set the scene lol...I promise there will be a lot of Bakubitch content in the next part

**Tag List is at the bottom**

𓂀 PART I 𓂀 PART II 𓂀

The arid air and blazing sun didn’t make for the most comfortable environments, and yet many people called the desert home.

In a secluded river valley lived the Zodos Tribe, the most fearsome warriors throughout the land, known for their brutality and unmatched strength. Though to (y/n), they were her family and her people.

Princess (y/n), the eldest of seven children, sat in the ornate palace that overlooked the main river. She had recently been crowned the queen of her people after her father chose to abdicate the throne. Her attendants sat around her while others waved large palm leaves, blowing the dry air in an attempt to make it cooler.

“(y/n), ready your belongings! You are to depart with your father within the hour.” The 18 year old turned seeing her mother’s slim form approach her.

Eshe was the personification of grace, similar to her only daughter, though she was taller. Her smooth dark skin glittered in the sunlight and her golden eyes searched her daughter’s face for any signs of backtalk before a content look crossed her face when (y/n) simply sighed and nodded.

“We readied her belongings already, Queen Mother.” (y/n)’s attendant, Subira, answered as she bowed upon her entrance to the room.

“Very well.” Eshe nodded, her snake like eyes shifting from her daughter and her servants to the landscape. “Go ready yourself. You are to meet royalty, Girl.”

“I am royalty, Mother.” (y/n)’s tone was laced with boredom as she stood from her seat. “What’s so special about these royals I am to meet, anyways?”

“That is not my place to tell.” She replied before pushing her daughter towards her room and into the large bathroom. The cool stone rubbed against her warm skin as (y/n)’s attendants unrobed her and bathed her while two others released her hair.

Some time later, the teen was redressed and her hair had been braided again, this time with decorative gold beads and thread woven into her thick dark hair. She had been dressed into a white sleeveless sheath dress, over that a sheer white and gold kalasiri tied in place with a gold and intricately beaded sash. A wide beaded collar was secured around her neck, brightly colored stones and metals woven and set into the necklace.

(y/n) slid on a new pair of reed sandals after Subira had finished her makeup, the dramatic black liner around her almond shaped eyes made the golden hue that she had inherited from her mother shine in the light. “Let us depart.” (y/n) motioned to her ladies as they nodded, following after her as the teenage queen adjusted the heavy silver and gold bracelets around her wrists.

“You look like a true queen, (y/n).” Her mother said as (y/n) walked past the room she had once been in.

“Thank you Mother. I will be off now.” (y/n) called back, not waiting for a response before walking out of the palace and towards her royal chariot where her father stood talking to one of the servants.

“Prepare the chariots.” Her father’s deep voice commanded as the servants nodded running off to get the large chariots ready for the journey. (y/n)’s father turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes looking her over once before smiling. “You look beautiful, Daughter.”

“Thank you, Father.” (y/n) smiled back as the servants ran back over stating that the chariots were ready to go.

(y/n) didn’t ask many questions of her father, mainly because she didn’t really care where they were going, though butterflies seemed to fill her stomach when the large palace in the capital city came into view as they crossed over another dune.

“Your mother asked me to remind you of your manners and your station before we left.” (y/n)’s father told her, as the girl sighed and rolled her eyes. Her father chuckled at her reaction before the pair stepped off of their chariots and were met by royal attendants from the palace.

“King Nafi, Princess (y/n), please follow me to the throne room. The Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife, are eager to converse.”

“I am a-” (y/n) didn’t finish her sentence, feeling her father’s strong hand come down on her shoulder before he stepped forward and followed the attendant up the stairs and inside the large palace, leaving (y/n) to catch up.

“Stupid man. I’m a queen.” (y/n) mumbled to herself as she followed the men into the throne room.

The teen stood beside her father, her eyes gazing over the two royal figures in front of her. One was a man with dark hair and dark eyes. A woman sat beside him, her hair ash blonde and her eyes a crimson color. They were both dressed lavishly as the woman sighed, mumbling something to her husband, before offering a smile to (y/n).

“I am sorry. My son seems to be unable to be found.” She told the girl who simply nodded before giving her father a look.

“(y/n), why don’t you walk the grounds? I have business to attend to with the Pharaoh and Great Royal Wife.” (y/n)’s father brushed her off, shooting her a look before practically pushing the girl towards the door.

“He doesn’t even have any power anymore! How dare he treat me like this. Why the hell did I even come if I’m not sitting in on the business? This is so stu-” (y/n) ranted to herself, not realizing where she was walking before she bumped into something...more like someone.

“Watch where you’re going, Extra!” The boy’s gruff voice said, his tone laced with venom as his red eyes glared down at where she sat after being knocked over.

“Oh get off your high horse! You can’t talk to me that way! I’m a Queen!” Her eyes finally landed on the boy’s face, his ash blonde hair wild and spiky as his crimson eyes seemed to darken and narrow.

He didn’t wear full linens, only enough to cover his lower half, leaving his chest exposed. His skin was tanned from spending most of his time in the sun and a thin shine of sweat covered his muscles as if he had just been doing some type of physical activity before they had bumped into each other.

“Well here you aren’t.” The boy told her before scoffing and walking off down a corridor, not even bothering to help (y/n) up.

“Sorry. It was nice to meet you though.” A spiky redhead said with a small closed-mouth smile. He had been following the rude blonde along with another blonde male, a dark haired male, a pink skinned girl, and a dark haired girl.

The group of teens were about to say something else to the girl when the explosive blonde from earlier could be heard yelling, “Kirishima, I didn’t allow you to socialize!”

“Uh r-right. Bye!” The red haired boy said before they all disappeared down the expansive hall.

“What a jerk.” (y/n) scoffed thinking back to the ash blonde. Getting up and dusting her hands off, she continued to walk around the halls.

The black girl returned back to the throne room after some time, having gotten lost though she was too proud to ask for help from one of the many servants scurrying around.

“Ah, you’ve arrived just in time for dinner, (y/n).” The blonde woman spoke, gesturing towards a large open room that overlooked the river, a large table filled with food sat in the middle.

“I apologize.” (y/n) said simply before taking a seat where the blonde woman had gestured, unfortunately across from that annoying boy from earlier. “Where is my father? My servants?” (y/n) wondered after a moment of silence, noticing that the people in question were missing.

“They’ve left some time ago.” She answered. “This is your new home after all.”

“Excuse me?” (y/n) and the blonde boy had the same reaction, choking on their food with wide eyes.

“Yes, your father never told you of the agreement?” The brown haired man asked.

“Agreement?” She repeated.

“Yes, you are to marry our son in two days time. It’s been arranged since before you both wore garments.” The blonde woman said with a small laugh.

(Fun fact: Ancient Egyptian children didn’t wear clothes until they were six years old, so they ran around naked except for the jewelry they wore)

“Him?”

“Her?”

“Show some respect to her Katsuki! She is to be your wife!” The woman said, slapping the boy’s head quickly causing (y/n) to smirk and laugh lightly.

Katsuki didn’t like that very much, glaring at the golden eyed girl with a low growl.

“Mitsuki, Katsuki...” The man started to say softly, flashing at smile at (y/n).

“You’re right Masaru. If only our son wasn’t such a brat.” Mitsuki sighed, slapping Katsuki again before going back to her food.

“I am the Pharaoh, you can’t treat me that way!” Katsuki protested, angrily cutting his meat.

“What was that?” Mitsuki questioned, her red eyes narrowing as she shot a warning look at her son.

“Nothing.” Katsuki mumbled, his eyes narrowing into a glare at the black girl across from him.

What a dick. What did my parents get me into? (y/n) thought to herself as she stared back at the boy across from her.

Tag List: (Let me know if y’all wanna be added. Just send me a message)

@bakugous-mamas

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #pharaoh bakugou #warrior princess reader #bakugou x black reader #ancient egypt au #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #in honor of black history month coming up #ancient egypt #TWQ&HP Mini Series #i don't know how many parts I want to write for this yet #black history month 2021 #mha x black reader #mha x poc!reader #pls i love mitsuki

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theforbiddenpriestess · 3 years

Text

The Pharaoh & His Princess

Eight |

First Steps

"Seto! Look!" Kisara gasped as she stopped her husband from walking away from the scene.

"What is it now?" Seto asked in a sour mood. All he wished to do was go to his chamber and sleep.

"Anippe is taking her first steps!" his wife replied, making Seto's eyes pop open in the alert.

Anippe?

Husband and wife stand on the edge of the balcony as they gaze down below the courtyard.

The scene is simple.

Pharaoh Atem is crouched down, his robes touching the ground.

He has both arms extended.

"Come on Anippe. I'm right here!"

The small princess is a good distance away from her father. Anippe slowly stood up and grimaced at how far away her father was from her.

"Come on love. I'm right here!" Atem cheered again, signaling with his hands for her to walk towards him.

Tears formed in her eyes as she extended her arms for him.

"Papa!" she winced as she began to wobble towards her father before falling down.

"Come on Anippe. Papa is right here!"

Anippe's face recoiled in distress but as she looked at her father's smiling face she knew she would be okay. Standing up again, Anippe extended her arms towards her father and little by little began walking towards him.

As Anippe walked closer towards him, Atem couldn't help but feel his father's presence so strong around him.

He smiled.

In another time, it was his father who was in his place. Waiting for him to reach his embrace.

Seeing Anippe walking towards him, Atem couldn't help but feel his chest about to burst with emotions.

Perhaps this is what his father felt when he took his first steps towards him.

A sensation of overflowing pride, joy, and gratitude.

Finally, after one last step, Anippe flung herself at her father, making Atem chuckle at her behavior.

"Was that so hard?" Atem asked before tenderly pressing a kiss on her temple.

"Papa," is all the princess cried out.

From above the courtyard, Kisara smiled at Seto's expression.

Seto caught his wife's eyes and looked away.

"What?" he asked, trying to act cool.

Kisara giggled before lightly poking her finger at his cheek.

"Admit it, you were this close to crying."

"Kisara, that's not true!" he scoffed.

She laughed.

"Whatever you say, dear."

Seto just shook his head.

Note(s):

I was inspired to write this chapter from season 5 of Yu-Gi-Oh!, episode 36 titled "In Search of a King."

I specifically wrote this chapter from the scene where Atem is taking his first steps. I wrote this scene off the English dub version rather than the Japanese version for a reason. In the English version, Atem's father talks to him and is affectionate with him. Compared to the Japanese version, where he comes off cold and is quiet around him.

Author's Note:

Hi all. I apologize for not posting these last few chapters. I totally forgot to keep posting them on here, hehe...

#pharaoh atem #Atem #OCdaughter #Ancient Egypt #kisara #priest seto #yugioh #father and daughter #Father's love

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kahtookmylife · 4 years

Note

Hiii, can I request a reader insert story? Where the reader is maybe Larry’s niece or something, and is set in the second movie, and she’s helping Larry when she gets captured by Al Capone and he stops her from being killed and they have a cute moment, you can decide how it ends😂 Thank youuuu😙

Heey! I got a little carried away with this one... I hope this is what you had in mind! ^^

Al Capone x Fem!Reader:

The sun slowly went down. People left the museum and went home to their families. The stars finally showed up in the sky, yet Larry and his niece couldn't watch their glowing figure because they had to save their friends. Some people would never believe what happened. A tablet that brings exhibits back to life has been stolen.

Larry's job was once to keep it safe. Even now, when he already left his job, Larry had to help his friends after all those joyful nights. He wasn't going to do that alone. His niece, Y/n, joined him in this dangerous adventure. Larry tried to stop her, but she insisted, so he let her come. That night, Larry made a big mistake.

Larry, Amelia, and Y/n were running away from the French soldiers when they reached a dead end. The door was stuck. It just wouldn't open, no matter how hard they tried.

"Uncle, you have to go now!" Y/n exclaimed. "I'll distract them!

"What?! I won't leave you here!" Larry shook his head.

"You have to take that tablet to a safe place!" she insisted. "I will be alright!"

"Mr. Daley, I agree with her." Amelia nodded. "If we stay, we lose. You have to choose which one is more important."

"Just go!" Y/n shouted. "I can take care of myself!"

"Okay..." he sighed. "But I'll come back. Please just... be careful..."

She nodded with a smile on her face. Larry and Amelia ran in the other direction, while Y/n sighed and waited for the soldiers. She grabbed a sword from the display. French soldiers and mafia men arrived to the room, alongside Napoleon and Al Capone.

"You want to find them? Then you'll have to go through me!" Y/n yelled.

"We only want the tablet!" the short man, she recognized as Napoleon, shouted. "But if you stand in our way, we'll kill you!"

"Try me b*tch." Y/n chuckled.

The soldiers attacked her, and she tried to defend herself, but Y/n didn't know how to fight with a sword. When a man finally kicked it out of her hands, she was defeated. Al Capone grabbed her by her arm and dragged Y/n to the soldiers so they could tie her hands. She couldn't even scream for help.

"Let me go!" she muffled when a soldier put his hands on her mouth.

"Shut up!" the man grumbled.

The only thing she could do was to listen to her capturers. Y/n wished she actually listened to her uncle this time, but she was too stubborn. She just wanted to help Larry, since he had done so many things for her and Nicky. The soldiers took her to the mad pharaoh that wanted the tablet so much.

"Did you get the tablet?" he asked.

"No, but we captured his daughter." Napoleon pointed at Y/n.

"Niece..." she corrected him.

“Niece.” he nodded.

"Whatever..." the pharaoh shook his head.

He took a look at her, then turned back to examine some jewelry.

"Tie her up somewhere." he shrugged. "Go after Larry Daley and tell him if he doesn't give the tablet back, I will personally kill her."

Napoleon nodded and directed his men to tie Y/n up. After that, they simply left the room. Y/n had some time to look at the exhibits. She recognized Ivan the Terrible and Al Capone, but she had no idea how the pharaoh was called.

"Excuse me... Uhm... Mr..." she looked at the pharaoh.

"I am Kahmunrah, great king of great kings, and from the darkest depths of ancient history." he introduced himself.

"Okay. Cool. I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you." she greeted him. "Now... I don't want to be rude or anything, but... Could you let me go already?!"

"Yeah, of course." he nodded. "Let me just sit on my throne all night first. Thank you."

Kahmunrah sat down and ignored Y/n's existence.

"Wow. Rude." she snorted. "I bet your brother would release me."

Only then did she realize what she just said. The pharaoh looked at her and stood up. Y/n could see the anger in his eyes as she gulped. He started going towards her, which made him look scarier.

"Oh... You think my little baby brother could be better than me?" he clenched his jaw. "That's what you think?!"

"Oi!" a sudden voice interrupted him. "Don't kill her!"

Al Capone came closer to them and stood between the two.

"I can take care of her where her friends can hear her screams." he explained. "It would probably hurt Daley if he received the news from his friends, wouldn't it?"

"Fine." he rolled his eyes. "Just take her away from me."

Al Capone nodded, then commanded his boys to drag Y/n somewhere else. She constantly tried to escape, but they were too strong. When they were far enough, Al Capone commanded them to release her.

"Now go." he smirked. "No one would want to see such a pretty lady die."

"Should I thank you now?" she asked.

"Only if you want to, doll." Al Capone winked.

"Thanks... I guess..." she nodded. "Why did you help me, though? I was just fine on my own..."

"Yeah... Sure." he laughed. "However, we don't have time for a little chit-chat. Find that stupid Daley before I change my mind, doll."

"Thank you, Mr. Capone." Y/n forced a little smile on her face.

"Anytime, doll." he chuckled. "Just call me Al, by the way."

"I thought you really wanted to kill me." she giggled nervously.

"Nah, ya face is too gorgeous for that." he shrugged. "Now go!"

"Fine! Thanks again!" she exclaimed.

Al stood there, watching her figure as she ran on the corridor. His boys looked at him with a confused expression. They didn't understand what made him release the girl. One of them came closer to him to ask the question.

"Boss, why did ya let her go?" he looked in his eyes.

"I don't know." Al shrugged. "I guess she just reminded me of myself. When I got in trouble in my younger years, ya know?"

His men were still confused, but shrugged it off and returned to the room where Kahmunrah's throne stood.

#NATM #natm al capone #natm amelia #natm napoleon #natm larry #natm ivan the terrible #natm kahmunrah #Al #Al Capone #natm al capone x reader #al capone x reader #Night at the Museum #night at the museum imagine #night at the museum imagines #night at the museum x reader #Napoleon Bonaparte #Ivan the Terrible #Ivan the Awesome #kahmunrah

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Note

- person A keeps snoring and person B kicks them every time 😁 either Mer or Baxter. Oh really one- maybe mortal Ahk too. Idc! I’m not picky, just go where your muse takes you darling❤️

The muse chose our sweet, yet sometimes clueless, pharaoh ❤️

* * * * *

It was 1 am.

The perfect time to think of all the ways your life had improved since you met Ahk, your 4,000-year-old former immortal pharaoh turned mortal.

It turned out that the hours between 1 and 3 am were the perfect times to think about how much you loved Ahkmenrah in order not to smother him with a pillow and end the new life that he loved so much—in fact, you wondered if he loved life too much, causing him to fall into such a deep sleep at night that he never knew he was snoring loud enough to keep you awake.

You had tried everything—gently rolling him over, but he’d roll right back onto his back. Making him be the little spoon so you could hold him in place, but as soon as you lost consciousness, it was like it was preprogrammed in his body. He just rolled over, onto his back and the snoring began.

You loved him, truly, but this, you could just not take anymore.

Facing away from Ahk, you gave his calf a good kick.

Nothing—not even so much as a hitch in his steady, chainsaw breathing.

You wound back your leg and gave him another kick, this one hard enough to jostle him.

Nothing.

“Did the spell grant him special dead to the world sleeping powers?” you asked allowed, knowing Ahkmenrah wouldn’t wake up.

This time, when you kicked him, your heel connected hard enough with his ankle to hurt you, so it wasn’t a surprise when Ahk’s breathing hitched and he woke up.

You shut your eyes and inhaled deeply and steadily, feigning sleep.

Ahkmenrah shifted, sighing deeply before drifting back to sleep.

And right back to snoring.

God, you wanted to cry!

If kicking him worked once, maybe it’d work again?

This time, you rolled over so when he woke up you could get him to roll over.

Winding back your leg, you let him have it again, a momentary feeling of glee shivering through your body when he awoke with a start, his eyes popping open and a groan leaving his already open mouth.

“Did you just kick me?”

“Hmm?” you mumbled sleepily.

“You kicked me!”

Damn.

“All right fine. I kicked you!”

Ahkmenrah reached over and turned on the lamp beside your bed, the light making you both squint, but it was clear he was angry.

“What on earth have I done to deserve such horrid treatment?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Of course,” Ahk said, glowering down at you from his seated position, his hair flat in the back and wildly poofy in the front.

“Turn off the damn lamp and I’ll tell you.”

Ahk huffed, but complied, though you could feel him glaring at you.

“You snore and it’s driving me absolutely crazy.”

The lamp turned on again, and you groaned, pulling your pillow over you face only to have it ripped off and flung across the room.

“How dare you tell such a lie! I demand the truth immediately, Y/N, or . . . or you shall suffer a consequence.”

You sat up, frustrated and thoroughly annoyed that your pillow was now resting against the frame of the door to your bedroom.

“Would you like me to record the godawful buzzsawing that comes from your mouth and replay it for you in the morning? Why would I wake you up in the wee hours of the morning to tell you a lie?”

“Kings do not . . . snore. I do not snore!” Ahkmenrah said with disgust, his arms crossed as he looked every bit a petulant boy-king who had never heard a bad word about himself in any of his lifetimes.

“Well, retitle yourself King Snoremenrah because that’s all you do from 1 to 3 every damn night.”

You thought Ahkmenrah was about to swallow his tongue with the way he gaped at you, his lips moving, his eyes bugging—either that or he was swearing at you a thousand times over in ancient Egyptian in his head.

Finally, words did stream forth and you were right—they were in ancient Egyptian, probably. The truth was that he was talking so quickly in such a tight, low voice that it could have been any of the dozens of languages he knew.

Ahkmenrah had flung the covers off and had already given your pillow a good stomp as he stormed out of the bedroom and presumably to your sofa, the vibrations of whatever language he was talking in growing softer as he marched away.

With a sigh, you walked over to retrieve your pillow and paused in the doorway. The allure of finally getting some sleep was strong, but now you felt bad for hurting Ahk’s feelings. It had truly been centuries since anyone had shared his bed, and honestly, what flavor of the week would have ever told Ahkmenrah that he snored?

You walked back to bed and looked again longingly at the blankets and your returned pillow; it would be so wonderful to turn off the lamp and crawl back under the covers, to stretch out, and to actually get some uninterrupted sleep.

Except that you knew you’d miss him: his warmth, his scent, and the way you felt so safe, knowing that he was right there next to you.

“Damnit,” you muttered, making your way out to the living room, the lamp from your bedroom providing just enough light for you to see.

Ahk was facing the back of the sofa, and while you thought his reaction was over-the-top, it wasn’t exactly out of character. Ahkmenrah was forced to grow up much too fast when he was alive the first time, and then he endured a lot of horror in between. Sure, he could be sensitive, but you were lucky that was how things turned out. What he went through could’ve turned him into a monster.

And it was that thought that made you soften.

Ahkmenrah had pulled the sofa’s throw over his bottom half, but his bare back was exposed to you, hunched and small in the shadowy light of the room.

You knew he wasn’t asleep. For one, he wasn’t snoring, and for two, you could see the slight twitching of his fingers as he hugged himself.

You sat down on the edge of the coffee table and lightly ran a finger down his spine.

“Come back to bed.”

Ahkmenrah’s shoulders hunched even farther inward.

“Please, Ahk. I don’t want you to sleep out here all alone.”

You ran your finger up his spine and he reached back to swat at you.

“Leave me alone.”

“Got ya talkin that time,” you said in a soft, teasing voice, your finger running down his spine again.

“Go. Away.”

“Not until you roll over.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry I kicked you—that was mean. Desperate, yes. But mean.”

Ahkmenrah said nothing, but tried to twitch away from your touch, yanking the blanket up to his shoulders and exposing his feet, the hems of his black sleep pants riding up around his calves.

“Come on, love. You can’t stay mad at me forever over something so dumb. I’m sleep deprived!”

“I am not mad.”

“Then what are you?” you asked, truly unsure of what was going through his mind.

He mumbled something you couldn’t make out, and you asked him to repeat it.

With a sigh, Ahkmenrah rolled over, now facing you.

“Scared. I said I was scared.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you shook your head, unsure of how what had happened could make him scared.

Ahkmenrah tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed nervously, his eyes owlish in the dim light.

“Help me understand.”

He released his lip with a sigh.

“What other things are you going to discover that you hate about me? All of this is still so new, Y/N. I am still so new,” Ahk finished, his eyes lowered.

“Oh, Ahkmenrah. I am going to discover a million things about you that drive me nuts!”

He looked up, his mouth popping open in an oh of horror.

You laughed.

“But that’s what being in a relationship is all about—you are going to do things that drive me crazy, and I’m gonna do things that drive you crazy, but at the end of the day, those little things that drive each of us crazy would be the first things we would miss if we broke up.”

Ahkmenrah was quiet as he absorbed what you said.

You reached out and stroked his cheek, moving to your knees so you were right in front of his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, getting him to look directly at you in that way that made you feel just a little bit dizzy. “I love you. It will take something a little bigger than a few nights of snoring to make me stop.”

“You bite your nails.”

“What?”

“When we are watching something scary or if you are lost in thought, you bite your nails. It is quite disgusting.”

You closed your eyes and smiled.

“Yes, Ahk. Just like that. Did you stop loving me when you found that out?”

“Of course not,” he said, reaching up to grasp the wrist of my hand that was still resting on his face.

“Will you come back to bed now?”

“If you promise not to kick me again.”

You laughed, “I promise. But maybe we will try that tennis ball in a t-shirt trick?”

Ahkmenrah narrowed his eyes, his face in a distrustful scowl.

“So you won’t lay on your back!”

“You forget, Y/N. I am a descendant of the gods. Now that I know I snore, I can will myself to sleep on my side all night.”

You blinked, biting back your laugh.

“If you think that will—”

“I do not think. I know.”

“Think I can will myself to stop biting my nails?”

“Do not be silly, my love. You are a mere commoner.”

“Is that so?” you said standing. “Guess you still want to sleep on the couch after all.”

Ahkmenrah’s mouth popped open in that same oh of horror as he realized that he had just committed a grave faux pas.

“I—I—I did not mean that you were common, Y/N. You are, of course, an equal in my eyes, just not in the eyes of the gods.”

“Have a good night, Ahk,” you called back before shutting the door to your bedroom and then locking it.

“I am cursed,” Ahkmenrah said, flinging himself onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

Time ticked on, and you stretched out in your bed, enjoying the cool side of your pillow as you drifted off into your first undisturbed sleep of the week, the sounds of Ahk’s snores, god-king . . . ha!, stopped by the barrier of your door.

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Reader #gender neutral #fluff #Ahkmenrah fluff #mortal ahk #Mortal Ahk fluff

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desperationandgin · 4 years

Text

Deep As The Sea Goes: Cellist Part 2

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapter

Also Read On: Ao3

Summary: Nothing but happiness. Happiness and smut.

A/N: Nothing much to say here except for 2 things. 1) I made my own mood board for the first time, the training wheels are still engaged. 2) My betas have been nothing short of incredible, and this fic is dedicated to them ♥

Deep As The Sea Goes

Drunk isn’t quite what Claire would consider herself. She isn’t as innocent as tipsy, either. She’s somewhere in between; nicely buzzed, a little faster to laugh, most assuredly handsier. As Jamie (who’s as inebriated as she is) guides her around the corner to her flat, an idea occurs to her that never has on any previous walk in the past month. It’s dark; he’s strong, she’s safe, and there’s a small dead-end lined with recycling bins just around the corner from her building. The fact that it’s only 8 degrees outside does little to dissuade her once the idea comes to fruition.

The alley is deep enough that the long shadows of night would mask any activity, and with a wicked grin, she pauses right there on the sidewalk, looking up at her (as shouted earlier in introduction for the first time in a crowded pub) boyfriend.

“I already ken that look in yer eye,” Jamie comments in recognition, raising a curious brow. When she begins to tug at his hand, he realizes where she’s tugging him, and now both eyebrows are in on the action.

“Yer flat is right there, I can see it.” When she pouts, her bottom lip juts out in a way that begs to be kissed, and his already meager resolve wavers. In order to have his kiss, he has to follow her, like a seaman lured in by a Siren.

“My flat will be there afterward, too,” she offers coyly.

“So, ye’re sayin’ ye have plans for me?” he queries, even as her back presses against brick and his fingers push up the hem of her skirt, blunt nails grazing her skin in a feather-light, goosebump-inducing touch.

Her own fingers, skilled and nimble, make fast work of his jeans, hand in his boxer-briefs with a satisfied sigh at finding him hard and willing. “I’ve had plans for you since the night of the fundraiser,” she mumbles into his mouth, loosely stroking him as they attempt an inelegant kiss. By the time his hand slips between her thighs, a leg has hooked itself high on his hip, and she lets her hand fall away from him with a keening moan.

“Shhh, a nighean,” he mutters, pushing flimsy fabric aside. His index finger finds her slick enough to drag the moisture back up and press slow but firm circles to that round bundle of nerves. He’s telling her to be quiet, even knowing she isn’t fully capable of it. All of Scotland might very well know what’s happening in this alleyway tonight. Two of his fingers curl into her now, moving in a beckoning motion, coaxing her climax closer to the edge.

What he doesn’t expect is her push at his shoulder, and he stops, blinking in a stupor. “What—?” The one-word question is breathless and concerned, but not for long.

Shoving his jeans and underwear down just enough, her hand grasps his cock by the root before stroking upward. Her mouth swallows his groan, and then they’re working together to get her balanced between the brick and his body. The moment she knows he has her secure, she meets his gaze, her own unwavering.

“I want you now, Jamie. And don’t be gentle,” she gasps, crushing her lips to his as soon as the words are out of her mouth.

He’d be a damned man to say no to that.

It’s all the acknowledgment Jamie needs as he guides himself to her, teasing first by dragging the tip of himself over the slick heat of her, wondering how long either of them could try to hold out.

“Don’t,” she whines, heels digging into his lower back. “Don’t tease, Jamie, not out here.”

She’s right, for more than one reason to be sure, so he presses into her slowly. He watches himself disappear inside of her, and once he’s buried, feels one hand on the back of his head, tugging at curls to get him to look at her.

The only sound in the alley is the sound of them, coming together in a punishing rhythm. His eyes, narrowed to slits, are still focused on her in the dim light. He can tell that her lips are parted, plump and still damp from their kiss. The lone, dim streetlamp is enough to catch the way her forehead knits as her pleasure mounts its peak. She begins to tighten around him, and the immediate warmth is enough to make his hips stutter out of rhythm.

“Oh, Christ. Oh, Claire.”

There’s nothing but encouragement from her; feeling him, the warmth of him spilling inside of her is enough. She doesn’t stop her assault, and when he buries his face against her neck, her fingers tangle in his hair. He comes, and she sees bursts of brilliant color behind closed eyelids as her pleasure turns everything into pinpricks of sensation.

The slight breeze against sweat-cooled skin makes her shiver, unaware of how much time has passed by the time she can open her eyes again.

He comes back to reality quicker than she does, aware of the chill and the fact that they could still be chanced upon by someone.

“Jesus Christ, ‘tis January in the middle of the night and ye’re in a skirt.”

His abrupt statement makes her laugh, loudly and uncaring of who might hear. When her legs feel stronger than Jell-O, Claire lowers herself, admitting aloud that the loss of him causes the cold to cut a bit deeper.

“I’m sure you have ideas on how to warm me up,” she suggests, carefully tucking him back into his jeans and zipping him.

Jamie grunts, finally taking a chance and looking around, not noticing any unwanted attention. “I’ve one or two, perhaps. Why? Did ye have one of yer own?”

Her hand reaches for his as they finally step back onto the more brightly lit sidewalk. “I was thinking a warm shower for two wouldn’t be so bad.” She needs it now, realizing the lack of a space to clean up was a (definite but perhaps trivial) downside to outdoor sex.

He lets her walk ahead, no more than twenty paces to the front steps, admiring her from behind for a moment before joining her. “No, I dinnae think that would be too terrible,” he agrees, arms wrapping around her from behind as she unlocks the door.

Grinning, she lets them inside, Sesh at the ready to greet them. Rubbing against Claire first, then Jamie, she decides she doesn’t care to visit much, giving a soft meow before trotting off toward the living room.

“She doesna like me, I’m tellin’ ye.”

Laughing, Claire uses him for balance as she reaches down to remove first one heel, then the other. “She does. Sesheshet’s just a little...anxiety prone when more than one person’s around. She’ll get used to you.”

Once she’s steady on her feet again, he follows her to the bedroom, already intimately familiar with the path. She lives closer to the station than he does, and so they’d come to an arrangement, not two weeks in: a key to her home securely on a keychain next to his. Falling into her bed after his longer stretches of work feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Ye never did tell me, what does her name mean?”

Flipping on the light in her bedroom reveals things to be neat and orderly; a bit scant on decoration, but obviously her refuge; blankets are piled in a basket near the nightstand, and a deep reading chair sits in the corner near the window with pillows on the floor nearby. Claire disappears into the bathroom, raising her voice to be heard.

“Sesheshet was the mother of a Pharaoh, King Teti. My uncle discovered her pyramid in 2008.” He hears her turn on the shower so that the water can have time to warm. When she returns to the bedroom, she pulls her shirt over her head, draping it across the back of a chair. “He died before her sarcophagus was found, so he never did get to see her.”

Jamie reaches out, still learning the odd bits and pieces of her life. Drawing her close, he kisses her wrist before reaching around and unhooking her bra.

“Were ye with him at the site?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck now. One arm loops around her waist, drawing her close.

“Until it was too much for him to be there.”

The lung cancer had been swift and fierce, and Claire sighs softly, kissing Jamie’s shoulder. “And that is how Sesh got her fancy name.”

He can sense the need for a change in subject. Jamie knows the topic of her uncle is still a raw wound, even twelve years later. Lamb had helped raise her, a brother doing his duty by stepping up and helping his sister-in-law. His death had left Claire bereft; it had been quick on the heels of her mother’s. Instead of pushing the subject further, Jamie’s hands tangle in her hair as he kisses her briefly, then pulls back.

“A verra fancy name for a cat who indelicately licks her arsehole right in front of me while I’m eating,” Jamie notes. “She’s done it twice now, so ye cannae tell me it isna personal.”

Barking out a laugh, Claire moves back so they can both finish undressing, then steps into the warmth of the shower.

“You’ll just have to be here more often, I suppose,” she decides, standing directly under the water with her back to Jamie’s chest.

“Oh? Is that an invitation, Sassenach?” His nose drags slowly along the shell of her ear, but when she goes still and doesn’t say anything, he’s sure he’s misstepped, pushed her too fast, too soon.

“Would you accept if it had been?” Turning to face him, she studies Jamie intently, aware that his features never betray what he’s thinking, but attempting to puzzle him out anyway.

“Aye, I would, wi’ out a moment’s hesitation,” he assures her, leaving no room for doubt. “But ye’d have to tell me it’s what ye want, Claire.” He traces his thumb over her bottom lip, humming when she presses a kiss to the pad.

Reaching out, she trails one finger idly down his chest, her gaze focused there now. “You already have a key, on account of my being impatient to see you.” There are days she very much enjoys seven a.m. Lately, he’s been showering at the station, letting himself into her flat, and crawling into bed with her, curling his body around hers. Most of those mornings they make love, lazily and half-asleep, but too eager for one another to wait any longer.

“Is it too soon?” The moment she asks, she knows his answer. Jamie is anything but subtle in his want for her to be near, as often as possible.

“A nighean, I would have moved in wi’ ye on Christmas Day if you’d’ve had me. Though, there’s something ye should ken before ye decide anything,” he murmurs, moving his hands to her hips and turning her so that her back is against the shower wall.

A knot of arousal coils in her stomach, able to feel the intent of his movements in every tightly wound muscle of his body. “What?” Her voice sounds slightly hoarse and she clears her throat, wetting her lips.

Slipping a hand between her thighs, Jamie slowly grazes the tip of one finger around still-tender nerves. When she whimpers, it cuts through him like a knife and goes straight to his cock.

“My own rental agreement ends on the fifth of March. Didna renew it on the chance this would happen.”

Her eyes, which had previously fallen closed at his touch, snap open in surprise. “You knew I would ask you to move in with me?”

Jamie chuckles, kissing her softly before deciding her neck is just as deserving of his lips.

“No, but I hoped. Truthfully, I’ve wanted to move out of that area for a while. Lacked the proper motivation, ye ken.”

Claire’s head tilts, her eyes closing once more. “And now? Where would you say your motivation ranks?”

For a moment, he’s too busy calling up a mark just under her neck before soothing it with his tongue, soaking up her whimper as both hands slide up her body to cup her breasts. The soft, slick skin of her is irresistible, and he can’t help ducking his head further to drag his lips along the curve of her shoulder

“I’ll be moved in by tomorrow evenin’, if ye’ll have me, Sassenach.”

Her response is immediate and breathless, a gasped I’ll have you just before his left hand disappears again between her thighs. She’s already decided that he can lay claim to her body any time he wants, and she’s not sure she would ever find it in herself to deny him. He can build her up, bring her to the precipice so exquisitely fast, or draw out her pleasure until she begs. Claire never feels as though she’s breathing when he’s intent on undoing her, can never find a single thought.

It’s no different now as his fingers work her over as if he’s known her body for millennia; a countless amount of lifetimes to learn every intimate part of her. With her fingers scrambling over the scarred terrain of his back, she finally finds her grip and holds on, digging into his shoulders with her fingernails before easing off as pleasure prickles up and down her spine. Head falling back against the tile, Claire pushes her hips into his hand, greedily seeking more even as the pleasure leaves her gasping.

She doesn’t realize he’s moved until his mouth is right beside her ear. His fingers have mostly stopped, his thumb just lightly grazing nerves that are taut with stimulation.

“I mean to belong to ye. To have ye keep my heart beside yours.” His thumb circles faster, words more intent. “And I’ll possess yer soul, Sassenach, to carry wi’ me, always.” On the heels of one climax comes another, and as she cries out, his eyes rake over her face, taking in the blush of her cheeks and the specific way her lips part when she’s struggling for breath. He can’t resist pressing his mouth to hers, breathing her in before wrapping both arms fully around her.

They stand like that, a lover’s embrace mid-shower, until Claire finally reaches for the soap and lazily lathers her hands, washing him before taking her turn. They say nothing to one another, stealing soft kisses, touching leisurely until their fingertips are shriveled. Jamie simply steps out once the water is off and holds out a towel for her, wrapping her up and kissing her forehead for his service. The pleasant buzz of the evening has worn off into an even more pleasant sleepiness, and once suitably dry, they tumble into bed, no need for clothing.

“Ye introduced me as yer boyfriend to yer friends,” Jamie finally says, breaking the comfortable silence.

Claire tilts her head up to look at him with an amused smirk. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“Aye, just that it sounds so….”

“Grade school?”

He chuckles, rolling against her side and nudging against the side of her breast. “I verra much enjoy bein’ yer boyfriend, Sassenach. Would ye go to the dance wi’ me?”

Claire laughs, hitting his shoulder before being pulled into a kiss. “How could I have resisted?” she asks into his mouth before humming at the feel of his hips slowly rolling against hers. One leg settles over his to accommodate, both of them shifting closer, foreheads touching.

“What is it between us?” she asks quietly, closing her eyes as her hips pick up his rhythm, rocking back and forth. “Why is it so easy?”

“That’s the way it is,” Jamie begins, reaching down to guide himself into her with a soft groan. For a few heartbeats, he stays exactly the way he is, not moving except to speak. “When two people are meant to be wi’ one another, well. Love becomes an easy thing, then.” He finishes his statement with a kiss, one hand disappearing into her hair.

With her fingers dragging along Jamie’s cheek, Claire meets his gaze, feeling the truth settle over her at the same time any guilt about loving again dissipates.

“It’s never been this easy before.”

Jamie realizes what she’s said and takes her words, tucking them carefully beside his heart. Carefully, he pushes her to her back, leaning down as far as he can without crushing her.

“I promise to never make it difficult for ye, Claire,” he whispers, lips trailing along the long line of her throat. “I’ll only love ye and no’ ask for anything in return.”

She’s too breathless to speak, every thrust eliciting a sharp cry as her back arches. But when she manages to open her eyes, she finds his gaze and holds it until she can’t.

This time when she shatters, he comes with her, panting against her cheek as he spills. It’s too much to hold himself up, so he drops to the side, pulling her — still gasping — right on top of him. His arms wrap around her body tightly, shaking, hot, but unwilling to be parted from her. As his fingers take a short trail up and down her shoulder, he finds a small scar from the accident, the pad of his finger making a home there, drawing soft circles. When he can’t stand it anymore, he leans up to press his lips against the mark, as if to make it disappear.

Claire burrows closely against him, in no rush to lose the warmth of the moment, either. Her own hands aren’t idle; she drags the back of one slowly up his body with all the patience of drawing out a long, low note on a cello string. She feels his shiver and finishes with her fingers buried in his curls.

Drifting, she’s lulled by his knuckles raking slowly up and down her spine, focused on the sound of his heart beating. It’s strong and sure, and she raises her head just enough to press a delicate kiss against his chest. When his fingers tug gently at the hair behind her ear, she scoots up until her mouth meets his. Tongues unhurriedly glide over one another, and they eventually reposition themselves so that he can hold her while they sleep.

“Tonight was a good night,” she murmurs, eyes closed with one arm splayed across him.

Jamie makes a noise low in the back of his throat, one that means he agrees, as his arms tighten around her.

“One of many nights I intend to have wi’ ye.”

Exhaling, Claire manages to mumble a few final words before succumbing to sleep.

“I’m holding you to that, Jamie.”

Once she relaxes into sleep, he lets his lips graze her forehead, breathing in the smell of her shampoo, her tea tree oil-infused body wash, and a hint of jasmine beneath it all. His heart feels too big for his chest and not big enough to be worthy of her at the same time.

Christ, he loves this woman.

His last thought as his mind shuts down is that he’ll be proposing to her by the end of the year.

October.

Jamie smiles in his sleep, drifting off to the promise of his future, held secure in his arms.

#outlander fic #outlander #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #the cellist #deep as the sea goes #my fic

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep 27: Joey Punches Valon to Death and Seto Kaiba buys a Car.

My favorite character is back!

THE STORYBOARDER.

Like clockwork, the best storyboarder of all of Yugioh saw in the episode notes “This is the one where we shall Destroy Joey Wheeler” and he was like “Yes! this is extremely my thing!” and he’s back at it again, destroying Joey Wheeler with such finesse.

Like it’s so hard to explain in caps because you can’t see stuff move, but this animator is so good at the Yugioh vibe--he makes these character designs WORK for him (or her? No idea the identity of the mysterious storyboarder (or team of storyboarders--maybe this was one little group they freelance out to that worked really well together? I dunno) ) they really capture what Yugioh IS in a really unique way and still remain fairly economical in the animation sense. They do not hold back on any pose, and go completely ham into this ridiculous concept of a card game where you put on a special suit and punch eachother in the face.

Mind you, it’s still a card game and I skipped all that, but man...this is such a good storyboarder and I know that next episode they’ll be gone but for now I’m just gonna bask in it.

First off, Rebecca manages to figure out Seto’s 6-letter password in order to access billions of people’s personal data off of a satellite (we don’t get to find out what the password was) and although the storyboarder is great--they did make one fatal mistake.

The bane of every Californian who leaves California. LA is like a completely different country to San Fransisco but everyone only knows of two Californian cities and assumes we’re right next door to each other.

And it’s like...no, man. I don’t have Disneyland. Do I sound like a cheerful person that lives next to Disneyland? Do I say “bruh” and smile with the force of 1000 suns as we surf the coast on the backs of Lisa Frank dolphins? No dude, I have a strong Bay Area accent that makes me sound like a dry sarcastic asshole and I wear sweatshirts to the freakin beach because it’s very cold and filled with great white sharks.

(Sorry I just had to delete like 10 k words where I compared the entire cast to US cities by saying cryptic stuff like Joey Wheeler : Seto Kaiba is like LA : San Fransisco and like it was the biggest random tangent that only makes sense to me. Quarantine brain, y’all, I got SERIOUS quarantine brain. Anyone else? Anyone else just find themselves wasting like 2 hours thinking of which cities match the personalities of different characters on a show that came out so long ago? Man I need distractions right now.)

But back to what’s happening on the show, Yami is coming to terms with Joey’s struggle about as well as Yami does.

Which is mostly Yami saying “I’m pretty sure I killed Joey in that card game with Bakura in S1 and Tea had to bring him back from the graveyard so like wtv.”

(read more under the cut)

This was like 2003??? I think I keep forgetting when this season came out but we had printers at this point. We had google maps and a printer.

I don’t think I’ve touched a map like that since the 5th grade, where we had this competition to make a hypothetical road trip across America. It was Awful, and if you won the competition to get from SF to New York with the shortest distance, you would win something like pizza and a cool engraved name plate. We did not win pizza, because I could not even unfold this asshole map.

And now we have Google so like thanks, Mrs. Lambert, it was cool, but I’ll never use that information again. I hope. It was such a vivid frustrating memory that these maps still fill me with anxiety to this day, hearkening back to my 5th grade self just desperately trying to use string to measure how many miles the freeways across the midwest contain. (spoiler: a lot)

How OLD is this kid? Rebecca’s like secretly a 68 year old. She’s secretly Mrs. Lambert.

At this point we had a swell in the music as each friend of Joey joined in to announce their willingness to risk danger and save him.

Were they...not going to join him the whole time? It just seemed like a weird thing to bring up sooo after the fact.

Yami then turned to Duke and was like “but not you. You stay here” and he was like “Oh, thank gods.”

Rebecca stayed behind because the animators don’t want to draw her. Honestly, she’s incredibly helpful and they were mad stupid to leave the only smart one in the car. But youknow...this team loves being mad stupid. It makes the show more entertaining.

As they left we had a weird aside where Arthur Hawkins reflected “Rebecca is having just a REAL hard time trusting Yami” and it’s like--Arthur Hawkins! You’ve been dumping on Yami for like an entire season, that’s why. Like don’t pretend you’re all on team Pharaoh now. Why ever stop dunking?

But youknow, character development, Rebecca is going to learn the trust the ghost that possessed her crush/best friend that she’s had for 2+ years on a kid who’s been living in Japan this whole time who literally forgot who she was 2 weeks ago. You trust that ghost, Rebecca.

Or not. I mean you really don’t have to. You don’t owe Yami anything, dude. You don’t need to blindly trust idiot men, Rebecca. You just do you. Trust that instinct of “is this guy not trustworthy?” because yep. Chances are if you’re having that thought, that he’s totally not.

Storyboarder!

Storyboarder what ARE you???

STORYBOARDER!

after this followed a scene that I’ve seen gif-ed just so, so often that I assumed it was in a Yugioh Spin-off. I don’t know why I thought it wasn’t in this OG series, but I didn’t expect it to be here, in the Dartz season. But, it does make sense that this scene was under the best Storyboarder‘s direction because *chef’s kisses * it’s perfect. Every frame is a joy. The amount of sinister expressions on Mokuba, the level of sass coming off of Kaiba. It’s such a freakin shame that this man’s best work so far only lasts like a few seconds.

PS my bro looked it up and this car salesman has a wikipedia page.

He also looked up if anyone has shipped this car salesman and it’s our lucky day because this ship does not exist with any human ever in the world. Thank you, humanity. But, they DID make a wikipedia page so maybe we’re just putting off the inevitable?

I’m not even gonna cap it because I KNOW this is a gif you can easily download from everywhere but mm--this is a SOLID piece of animation. This animator is just flexing so hard, man. Yugioh did not deserve this much care and attention to detail.

Shippers rejoice, Seto Kaiba did briefly consider helping out Joey (before he absolutely drove away in the opposite direction)

(They’re clearly in the financial district already, PS. They are driving 5 ft to Dartz’ house.)

At some point Joey nabbed Valon’s card and so now he also gets to wear a bunch of stupid armor outfits.

This one is weird! It’s very Kamen rider-ish...but it’s a color scheme that feels very valentines day. It looks hard to wear. Good thing it’s animated.

I may need to capture this walk sequence though...if I still have the energy...the picture does not display his very energetic arms-in-the-air walk cycle I haven’t seen since that one Season zero episode. I dunno if it’s a reference to that, but I can’t think of any other reason why Tristan is walking like that.

This is when Mai finally shows up.

Valon lost his helmet during this fight, which lead to this:

What a good note to end on.

Anyways, I have no idea what my update schedule will look like or be, so if you’re new here and you want to start reading these from the beginning, I have a link for that:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

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puzzlebros · 4 years

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How to Keep a Pharaoh

So, a Yugioh How to Keep a Mummy au. Credit for the original idea of this goes to @gamebro-advance

So Yugi, is the main character and Grandpa is always out exploring the world and sending weird and often dangerous gifts back to Yugi. Yugi lives with his Aunt Mai.

So Grandpa sends a huge version of Golden Sarcophagus to Yugi. It’s delivered on it’s side. Yugi’s ready for something dangerous to pop out, but the lid falls to the ground and there is a tiny Atem, dressed in his full pharaoh regalia, looking up at him with a challenging expression.

Even though he’s tiny, Yugi is still half expecting him to be dangerous so he tries to prod Atem back into the sarcophagus, but Atem is having none of it and keeps escaping.

Atem through gestures shows that he’s willing to help with chores in order to stay and Yugi’s like, you’re a bit small, but I guess you can try, which Atem does but he’s unable to life a broom or wash the dishes and he seems so dejected that Yugi finds a way for him to help cook.

Finally Yugi accepts that I guess this tiny person is going to stay, so he needs a name, which is when Yugi’s pet Kuriboh, another one of his grandpa’s finds comes bouncing in and demands Yugi’s attention. Atem isn’t pleased and crawls all over Yugi trying to get Yugi’s attention back on him.

Eventually Yugi gets them both settled down and names Atem, well, Atem, cause didn’t grandpa mention that was some great pharaoh’s name?

Mai comes out and claims the sarcophagus for herself. She sleeps in it.

Then Yugi’s childhood friend, Seto comes over. Hear me out. In this universe his and Mokuba’s parents don’t die, so Seto still has his smarts and his slightly cool demeanor, but he hasn’t had the influence of Kozuburo Kaiba. Yugi approached him as a kid and he decided he needed to take care of this smol, innocent child.

Anyway, Seto shows up and Yugi shows him Atem. In the anime the friend tries to unwrap the mummie’s bandages. Atem doesn’t have that, so instead Seto tries to take him millenium puzzle. Yugi scolds Seto so he stops. Seto and Atem still have a few glaring matches though.

So, Yugi adopts Atem. At first he leaves Atem home when he goes to school and Atem tries to be strong, but he just misses his aibou so much so he ends up crying himself into severe dehydration every time. After a few days of this, Yugi starts bringing Atem to school, which makes Seto want to smack him, because you’re going to get caught, idiot.

Yugi tells Atem that when people are around, he needs to act like a doll. Tea sees Atem, thinks he’s a doll, gushes over how cute he is, and asks if she can have one. Yugi, unable to say no, says he’ll make her one. So he makes several fake Atem’s. Atem is investigating them when Tea shows up so of course he pretends to be a doll. The problem is Tea grabs the real Atem.

After a lot of shenanigans, they get Atem back. And give Tea an actual doll.

A few days pass and a duel spirit, Blue Eyes White Dragon, a smol version, starts following Seto around. Seto is having none of it, but blue eyes is determined. Seto is all tsundere about it, but after the blue eyes sneaks into his house several times he basically lets it hang around.

Seto doesn’t like all this “mystical” stuff. His excuse is that it’s not scientific, but a major reason is that when he was a kid he tried to save a duel spirit, but these duel spirit hunters found and chased him and the duel spirit and he wasn’t able to save the duel spirit, or so he thought. So he’s kind of traumatized.

Dueling is still a thing and it fascinates Atem, so Yugi makes some mini cards so that Atem can play.

One day, Yugi is passing by Tea’s house and hears commotion within. Turns out a duel spirit, Happy Lover, and Tea is freaking out. Yugi helps her calm down and explains about duel spirits. Tea adopts Happy Lover (the same duel spirit that Seto tried to save all those years ago) and Tea gets to meat Blue Eyes and Atem.

Then they meet Joey. Joey has a bad temper and is angry all the time so most people avoid him. Turns out he has night terrors and gets very little sleep. Yugi befriends him anyway. Joey’s confused because this little shrimp is insisting on being friends even after Joey accidentally hit him because he got startled (Seto was not happy).

A bit later Joey calls Yugi panicking because there’s something in his house. It turns out to be a Scapegoat. It has the ability to eat bad dreams so it was attracted to Joey. Yugi explains everything to Joey and Joey joins their has a tiny companion group.

Blue Eyes keeps eating all of Mokuba’s snacks so Seto gets mad at it and they have a tiff. Blue Eyes goes a way and doesn’t come back. Seto refuses to look for her because she left onher own, it was her choice and he doesn’t want to admit he’s worried, but the others insist on looking. They find Blue Eyes stuck in a fence.

All the duel spirits get lonely while their humans are at school so Yugi contacts his grandpa’s friends the Ishtar’s and have the Ishtar’s watch the minis while the others go to school. It becomes a kind of duel spirit day care.

Yugi receives another package from Grandpa which induces the whole “oh no is this something dangerous” feeling. Yugi tricks Seto and Atem out of the house, which leaves both of them upset with him and they find another way back into the house.

It turns out to be an Anubis statue who can talk and claims to be able to see the future. They call him Shadi.

One day they’re on a hike, when suddenly everything goes quiet and starts to feel odd. Yugi realizes they’ve stumbled into the entrance for the duel monsters’ festival, which doesn’t allow humans unless they have a special invitation. Dark Magician always invites Yugi, but he hasn’t gone in a while because he asked Seto to go with him once after Seto’s incident with the duel spirit hunters and Seto said he shouldn’t mess with that stuff and refused to go.

The greeters for the festival show up and are about to punish them, when Yugi asks that they only punish him, and everyone’s like “Yugi, no!” The greeters don’t agree and are going to punish everyone anyway, when Atem finds the tickets in Yugi’s pocket which somehow appeared in his pocket.

Now with tickets they are welcomed into the festival. Seto punches Yugi for his self-sacrificing stunt and is cold to Yugi for awhile. They help out two duel monsters who are in a similar situation. One tried to sacrifice itself for the other. Through helping out those two, Yugi and Seto work out their own disagreement.

Duel spirit hunters somehow manage to get into the festival and they get Atem. Everyone chases after them and work together to get allow Yugi to catch up and he is furious. He tackles them and everything. Then the Egyption God monsters speak from the heavens and shoot lightning down at the hunters for trespassing on the festival and trying to kidnap duel spirits.

They are all hailed as heroes by the duel spirits and receive gifts, which is a mini festival kit, which is good because Kuriboh and Shadi are put out that they missed the festival. They enjoy a mini festival and all is right with the world.

I headcannon that they all go on to become full time protectors of duel spirits. Working as a team to protect and save duel spirits in the human world.

Anyway that’s it. Thanks again to @gamebro-advance for the idea. Also @allorana @ravengrangergirl I think you’ll enjoy this.

#yugioh #yugioh duel monsters #how to keep a mummy #yugi mutou #seto kaiba #tea gardner #solomon mutou #mai valentine #joey wheeler #alice's posts

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poptod · 4 years

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Arcadian Pt. 2 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Honey doesn’t just sweeten delights.

Notes: Kind of insinuated sex at the end, but it could be anything. Still gender neutral :)

Word Count: 2.7k

Every now and again he shows up out of the blue, and there’s no routine to his appearances either. Though, no one in your village is exactly mad about it - he’s a very nice boy, they remark, and more often than not they insinuate about your relationship with him, which is purely platonic according to you.

“He just kisses me every now and then,” you say whenever asked, which doesn’t help your situation, but everyone can see how much he dotes on you. It’s especially visible one summer afternoon when he pops by your home, knocking on the outside of your hut.

Peeking out, you grin at the sight of him, pulling him into a quick hug. As usual his touch lingers in different ways; a hand on your shoulder, fingers brushing against yours in a weak attempt at holding your hand. You hardly notice it at this point. It’s common, and you don’t put much stock in the idea that it means much more than friendship.

“I thought we could go fishing today,” Ahk suggests, and as much as you’d love to, you decline with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been given a job. I suppose I’ll have less time for you, but… well, if you want, you might be able to join me?” You suggest quietly, looking over his shoulder at the man you’re supposed to be following. He’s not as burly as your father, but he is much taller, and you’ve known him for a long time. He goes by the name of Madu, and he’s a shepherd who came to you with very little family.

“That.. I’d like that,” Ahk replies, tracing your line of sight to Madu, who is now glancing at the two of you and looking rather exasperated. “What is it exactly that you’re to do?”

“Well,” you say, hoisting a large, maroon coat around your shoulders and tying the belt, “I’m to apprentice him. He’s a shepherd. Not our usual job here, but we are self-sustaining.” Without thought he follows you, trailing behind as you catch up to Madu. He offers a very curt smile to the two of you, staying silent as you explain the particulars of the job - Ahk listens intently, always interested in what you have to say.

The sun is already high in the sky, and the heat is boiling beneath the many layers you wear. Ahk doesn’t understand the way you dress, often commenting that it’s much more comfortable to dress the way he does, in few layers and thin cloth. You don’t fully understand your village’s ways either, but you’re much too young to be commenting on them in a way that suggests you don’t like them. Besides, controversy isn’t really your thing, something Ahk picked up on rather quickly - you avoid most situations where an argument could arise.

In a grass laden valley a ways from the water of the nile, a herd of sheep graze in the desert sun. It’s a veritable paradise, at least that’s what Ahk thinks, watching you for your reaction. When he sees nothing, he assumes it’s not the first time you’ve been here. He’s right too - it’s around the third time, and as beautiful as it is, you’re a little numb to it.

The job isn’t that hard, and since you’re still an apprentice in the works, you’re allowed a little leeway; Madu works with the sheep, and you watch from a rock jutted out of the soft dirt. Ahk sits beside you, watching clouds drift aimlessly by, a listless wind cooling sun-warmed skin. At the sides of your tiny plateau sheep graze, their noises and hums a background for your conversation - Ahk lies down, feeling the warmth of the rock on his back and the sun on his face. You stay upright, watching Madu’s techniques as you keep a happily content conversation with him.

“So have you always wanted to be a shepherd?” He asks when you’re both fully up-to-date on each others lives. His memory isn’t the greatest, and it’s even worse compared to yours. Somehow you’ve managed to remember every little thing he’s told you, from his advisors to his brothers to the food he likes to eat. He tries his best remembering your own stories, and according to you, he’s doing just fine, though he can’t help but think he could do better.

“Well… it’s not something I don’t want to do, specifically. I like the idea of it, I think,” you tell him vaguely, shrugging and digging at the sediment on the rock. “I don’t really want to be a beekeeper is all I know. It’s… I don’t know. I thought I wanted to be one but then you learn more about the job, and it’s not quite as appealing… you know?”

“I understand,” he mumbles, his hand drifting towards you to run up and down your arm. His skin is so much softer, so much cleaner than yours that it leaves a path trailing up the dirt that grows on your skin from your day to day activities. You’re so incredibly sensitive, he notes - whenever he touches you in a gentle fashion a shiver runs through your body, and you sit straighter than usual.

“I, um… I’ve told you that my village’s main source of income is honey and beeswax, right?”

“I think you’ve mentioned it,” he hums, still staring up at you like you’re a great wonder of the world. His hand stills, touching the side of your palm till he moves further in, sliding his hand over yours and intertwining the fingers. When you tighten the hold he makes his breath catches, and the wind stills for a moment to revel in the silence comforted by your presence.

Gazing up at you, he thinks to himself, perhaps the world is manageable with you. With another hum from him he sits up, scoots closer to you until your shoulders touch, and he kisses your temple. A giggle comes involuntarily from you, and you quickly cover your mouth in a weak attempt to hide it, but he just smiles - distant and loving, observing of every imperfection, and holds you closer.

“You should come visit me in Memphis, if you ever have the time,” he suggests quietly, and when you don’t respond he thinks he’s said something wrong - still, he waits for you to make a move.

“Father might be taking a delivery of honey to the city tomorrow. I might be able to visit you then,” you finally answer after a good deal of silence. He lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing and leaning into you once more.

“Have I ever told you how perfect you are?” He wonders aloud, turning to fully face you. Slowly his hands trail over your shoulders and up to your face, drawing a line down your cheek, tracing over your jawline - you mumble something, blushing a deep red and unable to meet his eye.

“Ife! Are you paying attention?” Madu calls from the entrance of the tiny valley, breaking the trance of your friendship too loving to be what you imagine it to be.

“Yes, um… yes, do you need me?” You ask, trying to hide your laugh when Ahk sighs, disappointed as he rolls his eyes, staring up at the sky.

“No,” he says with a laugh, “just making sure you’re not too preoccupied with your… friend.”

Ahk grumbles, resting his head on your shoulder. Laughing you attempt at comforting him, ruffling his hair in the way he likes. Every time you do so, you feel a little more special; he doesn’t let anyone else do it, at least that’s what he tells you, and you’re inclined to believe him. He hasn’t ever lied before, and you don’t believe he’s capable of lying to you - he’s far too sweet to you for that.

“I best be heading home anyway,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shoulder. “I’ve got a meeting to attend with my father.”

“Anything interesting happening?”

“Not really. Someone enacted justice before asking Pharaoh so now he’s a little angry.”

“A little?”

“A lot,” he chuckles, leaning back from his hiding spot in the crook of your neck. “I’ll see you on that honey delivery then? Where should I meet you?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been, remember?”

“Oh, right,” he chuckles rather sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then shall I meet you at the city gates?”

“Sounds just fine,” you agree, smiling softly as you plant a kiss on his cheek - something you rarely ever do. Before he can think to respond in any way you jump off the rock, following Madu and directing the sheep with your own staff, smaller than his but just as intricate. He waves a good bye, a dreamy smile stuck on his face even though you don’t look back.

The next morning he wakes up early, anticipation running thick through his veins as he’s dressed by servants. In the floor length mirror in his room he fluffs out his robes, admiring how they fit him, and wondering if you’d ever notice it - you have a keen eye, but fashion isn’t something you note often. He doesn’t blame you for that, you don’t exactly have the time to focus on what you look like, not like he does at least. Still he hopes he looks alright for you, if only to boost his own confidence.

Before he leaves the palace his father requires him to take a few guards with him, and despite his reluctance it’s forced upon him, and he’s soon walking down the streets with a guard on either side of him. It feels more like he’s being escorted to jail rather than going to meet a friend, but the feeling melts away when he sees you and your family just barely entering the gates of the city.

He rushes towards you, leaving his guards behind you, gathering your small frame up in a big hug, even lifting you off the ground and spinning you round. You laugh, delighted at his excitement if not a little confused.

“Ahk, I saw you yesterday, you know,” you giggle when he sets you down - you keep your hands on his shoulders, just as he keeps his on your waist.

“I know, I’m sorry - I’m just happy you’re here. I want to show you my home is all,” he says, smiling brighter than ever, even when your father pats him with a too-strong grip on his shoulder.

As he leads you through the streets crowded with people, your awe is plain to see; pillars tower above you, all decorated in intricate paintings and murals of life. There’s probably more people in this one place than you’ve ever met in your entire life, and each one interests you - your father has to grab you by the back of your shirt to drag you away from each stall. A fair amount of people are interested in you as well - you’re clearly natives to the land, but you’re dressed oddly, and your father and brothers carry a massive train of honeypots behind them which disrupts the usual flow of traffic.

To each sight that catches your eye he explains the usage and history, pointing out every detail you can’t see. During your trip to your fathers’ delivery spot he tries to hold your hand, and probably would’ve been successful if your father hadn’t been staring intensely at the back of his head. Eventually you meet the steps of the palace, your mouth hanging open at the pure size of the building. He just laughs at your state of shock, patting your shoulder and telling you, “that’s my home.”

It confuses him, just slightly, as to why your family begins to go around the palace, reaching the back to where the steps to the storeroom are, till he finally realizes in a moment of pure shock and coincidence; your village is the main supplier of the palace honey.

“You didn’t tell me your family was our main supplier,” he says quietly, standing beside you as your family and several servants load the jugs down into the storeroom.

“I wasn’t aware of it,” you mumble, just as surprised by the coincidence as he is. “Perhaps that’s why my father trusted you so easily.”

“Not because of my charm and boyish good looks?”

“I don’t think so,” you laugh, leaning into him as you do so.

When at last the delivery is finished, your father begins to deal with payment - one of the Pharaoh’s advisors comes down, sorting out the financial dues and all the things you and Ahk don’t care in the least for. One of your brothers tells you in a hushed whisper that this part always takes the longest, so when your father isn’t looking, Ahk pulls you away, through streets you don’t know and into a little corner where a bench sits, the tight walls of the alley covered lush in green vines.

“I wonder if you could stay the night,” he says to you, seated beside you and holding your hands in his own. This little area of the city is quiet, almost as quiet as your own home - before you answer you take a good, long look at your friend, and decide in a decision you’ve never consciously made before that he’s very handsome.

“I’m not sure my father would think that to be entirely appropriate,” you answer bashfully, turning away with the ghost of a smile playing at your lips.

“It’s only fair, since I’ve spent the night with you often, and your family has always been so hospitable.”

“Well…” you glance to the side, then back at him - “I suppose I could always ask.”

“I’ll ask, that way it seems more like I’ve invited you and less like you’ve invited yourself,” he offers, and when you nod he smiles, the decision made as the two of you leave the privacy of the little corner.

It goes over a lot better than he thought would, though a lot worse than you wished it to be. He’s hesitant as always, gesturing his answer to your brother who translates the words to Ahk.

“Are you sure it’s not going to be an issue with Pharaoh?” Is his main concern, but Ahk quickly dismisses it.

“Of course not. It’s just one guest, though you and your family are welcome to stay as well. We have more than enough food and space,” Ahk replies with a polite bow and smile. His eyes dart from you to Ahk, questioning in his head whether or not this is a good idea, before slowly nodding. He gestures his words, and again your eldest brother translates it.

“Alright. But if there’s trouble, don’t hesitate to kick Ife out.”

Ahk almost laughs at this - you could never be trouble. Besides the fact that you’re far too polite, he likes you too much to kick you out.

“I don’t think there’ll be an issue. Thank you for letting them stay.”

He turns to you with a giddy smile, almost jumping out of his sandals when your father turns away and you give him a thumbs up. The rest of the afternoon is spent in giving a tour of the city to you and your family, several guards following you to ensure your safety, even with your fathers’ insistence that he’s fine without. Despite the fact that your father and brothers have been to Memphis many times they’re somehow shocked by what they see, and it’s obvious after the third or fourth sight that they’ve never bothered to really look at the architecture or people of the city.

Meeting the Pharaoh marks the end of the day - it’s a momentous occasion for your family, who, including you, bow at the sight of him and treat him professionally. For the Pharaoh, being treated professionally means being treated as god on earth, which is something Ahk doesn’t especially like. Pharaoh doesn’t take much note of the meeting, and adds a cursory ’thank you,’ for the honey your family supplies, leaving an imprinted memory in your fathers mind for years to come. With that, your family departs, leaving you and Ahk to your own entertainment.

“What should we do?” He asks when you reach the palace and, through various methods of avoiding his family, end up in his room. It’s grander than anything you’ve seen, and every item costs more than your life, not that you recognize that - to you, it’s just your friends room.

“I say… we have a little fun.”

“Oh?” He says, raising an eyebrow. “Lead the way, my dear.”

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah #night at the museum #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #rami malek

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cloudsrust · 4 years

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Very random question here, but do you think that any one of the LM3 ghost bosses could pull off crossdressing as the opposite sex or not??

I think I’ve seen enough drag make ups and make up art in general that personally I believe that practically every one of them could indeed pull off a pretty good crossdress! The only ones I see having trouble are the ones with really big beards like Chef Soulffle, MacFrights and Potter (but hey- the bearded lady look is always a pretty good possibility!).

Maybe also Ug- but just ‘cause I believe he wouldn’t really fully understand this sorta thing to pull it off by himself- maybe with a lil’ help.

I didn’t mention Clem in the “beard problem” crew just ‘cause he can easily use a scarf or a head handkerchief to cover it up for a farm look (or he could just pull off the farm lady that is way too busy to care about something so small-) The girls I think would have absolutely no problem- (Here I begin rambling about how they could pull it off / crossdress like-,,) Chambrea changing her bee hive(?) hairstyle for a man bun with a long ponytail and rocking a butler uniform with a large jacket to cover up the defyning curves- maybe even adding a pair of elegant mustaches for flavor ohohoh. Serpci could just loosen up her tunic more and contour her face in a more angular shape and she’d be fine as Pharaoh. Gloria with a oversized rockabilly college style jacket- muting a bit her lipstick in a more neutral tone- maybe one of those cool sharp short beards! Mhhhh- maybe Morty too could use a scarf for his impressive chin- and also because I can just see him as one of those vintage hollywood celebrities with head scarves and sunglasses! Uuuuuhhh! Johnny would be amazing- a dork gal with them g u n s- or since he is supposed to be like the popular jock guy he could be the female counterpart- the popular cheerleader! Ohohoh- he’d rock that uniform! Just putting up his hair in twin tails, some eyelashes and lipstick and he good to go. Wolfgeist could do his hair in a chignon- strong victorian like make-up but still keeping his usual clothing- maybe with just a few frilly details and decorations. Captain Hook... uhh- no idea how a female shark it’s different from a male so he already good lmao. ... Oh damn got lost in my train of thought and writing,, welp hope this is what you meant! ^^;

#the cloud can speak oh boi #cw crossdressing #the irony of me binge watching some drag youtube channels RIGHT NOW #would have tried to go deeper on their looks but I guess this is enough ahah #long post

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aegmblacklatte · 3 years

Text

Miss Mochaccino (Pt 2)

***[Mature Content]***

"The nightingale sings. A scarlet letter burns upon our lives and snatches it away…

"But what can we do? Look toward the light, and find your answer."

The clapping of hands, "That was motivating as usual, m'am! Now, for our next entry… by 'Germaine'. Let's give her a warm welcome..!"

The Beret Girl made her bow towards the packed audience and slipped out of sight while the next contestant got up out of her seat and got on stage. Down the steps, she turned around to see her competition before being rammed headfirst into a damp cloth—

The introductory applause drowned out a horrifying scream.

The young woman felt herself surrounded by burly animals—Crazed eyes snapped from face to face, "Out the back," a calm hiss.

The last thing she could perceive was the visage of her most current nightmare looking down upon her with a wide smile, deprived of sanity.

Eyes fogged out, and then everything went black.

* * * * *

"I've read that novel."

The arms wandered on silk. Stirring in forced sleep. Cool. Comforting. As in a dream… Lips parted and searched for air…

"Ohh.."

The dark eyelids took forever to pry open. Opening, closing. Reds and golds. Velvet. Heat awash on every part of her body—

Too warm.

"What happened?" When a hand supported her delicate frame and when the focus sharpened into clarity, the Beret Girl realized something.

Immediately wrapping her exposed arms around her unclothed self.

The only cover was lace; obsidian hiding away her feminine treasures.

"No." Pink became crimson when her wild orbs made contact with a silhouetted figure, lounging around in his regal seat, like that of a pharaoh, amidst the flames of his grand fireplace.

Bradley Uppercrust the Third was in nothing but his red, black lined robe.

"Have a good trip?" Incisors glimmered within the shade.

The girl saw her discarded clothes at his feet. She bolted for them, but felt the garment being pulled away. His breath like ice in all this intense heat,

"If you want them back, you're going to have to entertain me first."

Thin brows came together in disdain.

"Oh come now I'm not all bad! I can be nice, if you want me to be… Of course,"

Suddenly bringing out a dagger behind him, "I can always use this as a last resort." Brad threw it over his shoulder and across the room. It landed in the middle of a soft, lush carpet.

The girl nearly fainted on the spot, bleach white.

"Ha ha ha!" Delicate fingers touched the cheek, "Pity. You're so beautiful…"

. . .

"Why?"

"What's the question again?"

"Why me?" Licking his lips, he brought her forward in her kneel,

"Are you insinuating you haven't the slightest clue?"

Bradley's eyelids drooped as his brows came together, and gave a feather's kiss on quivering lips. Sudden chills went coursing through the woman's body. The junior took his chance and slid a gentle hand down her back, "Sit with me."

The Beret Girl stared in disbelief. The usual wackiness to his character was replaced by some Don Juan. Dark, persistent, yet gentlemanly in this request… She couldn't bring herself to "entertain" him willingly. The glint of silver on the carpet snapped her out of her trance and into deep blue pools. "Please, sit."

He put his lean, toned legs over the edge of the seat and helped her to a stand. The woman's body on silk nearly put her in Lust's spell, had it not been for the fact that this was the trash that had taken itself out…

"I—" Holding her close, a grip on her waist, then on her voluptuous curves, the jock went in for another deep kiss, giving just the tip of his tongue to hers. For a split second, she thought that his voice was growling incessantly in her mind, "join me". His strong arms under the liquid fabric wrapped all around her unstable frame. The woman found it hard to breathe when the wet muscle cleaned her neck and shoulder blade, "You…"

"What about me?"

"…"

"You're so shy when you're not up onstage… Cute." The predator's gaze went away for a second to give a child's smile. This only made the girl quite unsure about these actions, "Can't you give me just one kiss?"

It sounded as if he wanted the chocolate wrapped in foil.

The random image in the young woman's vision made her giggle suddenly.

"What's so funny??" Playing along—touching his nose to hers. She couldn't stop herself from getting another hot rush to her cheeks—still giggling like a little girl. A side never seen in that café, "Nothing!"

"Nothing?" Bradley regained control of the situation and slid his whole tongue into dew-kissed lips… She fell. Within his embrace, his scent, and sweet nothings whispered in the back of her mind. Their exposed muscles greeted one another. At first Puppy Love, transforming into a crazed sinful necessity. The heat of the flames against silk caused a single bead of sweat to roll down her neck and side of her collarbone, lapped up by a desperate man. The hands finally found the clasp behind her and opened the brassiere, taking a caring hand between the woman's shoulder and her strap, leaving the thumb to remove the lace…

"You… will be the best one yet."

Yet?

Deep green eyes were all of a sudden up in shock, "What??"

Petrified as he took her right leg to his hip and leaned down upon his seat once more, with the Beret Girl on top,

"Maybe you weren't paying attention." She couldn't grasp what he meant,

"You should know that you're not the first, nor the last—

"Are you saying—?" hollow whisper.

"You're just another. Is there a problem with that?"

That was a big problem. When the words processed, her intoxicated gaze turned into a leer,

"Bradley."

"Miss Mochaccino." The same dark laugh from the confines of the dressing room…

"No. I don't want to do this

"anymore." Finishing her sentence, "But you wanted to, and that's all that matters."

"I changed my mind!" The junior was far from impressed at her protest—

"When love is conditional, that isn't love at all. But I know you want this." lowering his voice to a hiss before opening the robe and exposing his chest, "Now come here," motioning with his finger. She shook her head and tried to tear away, both legs held down by rough hands, "I said—

Fingers went behind her head and pulled her down before she could yell. The other hand traveled to a snow white hill and rubbed feverishly despite her squirming, trembling. She went hard at the nip. He had to trail out of her mouth just to see her reaction—

"Stop!" He flashed a devilish smile and sat up, letting his robe slither down to the middle of his torso. More licks to her ghost's face before sucking hard at her breast and teasing her with his bared teeth, with the jaw never clamping down—

"Please stop!" Then the other one, leaving a mess of hot saliva and sweat from his damp chest. A rushing of blood to his other head made him remove the robe completely. She didn't dare look down,

"But I'll make you."

He pinned her down to the lower end of the long cushion so that her hair was nearly touching the floor, neck barely supporting her skull, "Hold them together."

"What?!" An abnormal high pitch to her usual sultry voice.

"Hold them together." A stern tone. The atmosphere went cold, but the fire silhouetting their figures blazed on for what seemed like an eternity.

Tiny yelps escaped as his erection went in between her coarse pair. At first slow, then pushing a little faster—faster still, beginning to throb to his moans…

"That's always a good alternative to masturbating."

His straightforward commentary was sickening. The Beret Girl shut her eyes to his lust-shot expression, but she didn't notice—

"Ah! Ah!" Strong, thin fingers pressed harder into the lace mesh. The spot was touched, "Ahh—" Again. An appendage went through the black panties and only went in further in spite of the woman's sudden shrieks. Now two were inside, rocking and giving her a high degree of forced pleasure, muffled by another kiss—no longer caring, but wanting to eat her alive--!

"You want more." Spreading them out in front of her face, strewn with vaginal liquid. Soft pants answered his observation.

Uppercrust got up and lifted her, cradled in his arms.

At this point the girl didn't know what to do. This guy went from polite to dangerous in just a short amount of time. Whatever satisfaction she felt couldn't drown out the fact that she was just another sex doll to this aged demon, ensnared inside a 20-year-old body.

"You're so beautiful; I want you tied to my bed…"

Dark hands ran forever through flowing keratin as she was placed into the scarlet sheets, "just to see how long you would last." A slight scowl formed when he said this.

Nothing good could come out of this. Beret Girl's leer turned into a glare, "No chance of that."

The difference in height made it hard to even sit up—Uppercrust kept his body all over hers, feeling her up, massaging her legs, hips, behind—going in between to find her sheath again, hooking onto the hem of her cover. The poet's hands were powerless even as she put up a determined struggle, trying to wriggle away from this steel trap. Incisors bit down on her hill's peak and began to savor the rest of her. Bite marks shone red on white—he, growling like a wild animal—

"Br—Bradley!" His name echoing off the high walls. Going into overdrive when the lace was removed and about ready to go inside--

"I'm not happy. Are you?" Suddenly calm.

"Go to hell!"

"I'm already in it!!"

A blood curdling scream rang as he broke through skin, going all the way in—heavy thrust upon heavy thrust. The man's features darkened. This wasn't just another woman…

"Go on, little lady: Snap your fingers." Bradley let out a horrid, sadistic, childish giggle and delved in again. The woman let out another shriek, at last realizing why he had brought her here… Against her will, the girl began to shed crystal.

"Ohh!" Strong legs began to shake under the tension.

"Please! Stop—"

"I'm not through with you yet!" whispering harshly in her ear before nibbling the lobe. A few more thrusts were all he needed, "Ah!" pulling out just in time to let his dew sprinkle over an empty womb—"You're not worth having a child with."

Her brows furrowed despite the suffering and pitiful sobs. Miss Mochaccino had enough.

"I have more respect for the common whore than women like you. You. The way you act. The way you move. It screams, 'fuck me!'"

All she wanted to do was cover her ears; the jock had them wrenched to her sore sides.

"I'm just fulfilling your wishes. Your innate desires…"

It was as if she were made of glass, he seeing right through her very being. Her heart ached as her mind cried out, "That's not true! That's not true!"

"It is. Don't deny it. It's within all of us." Glowing red eyes pierced through her own; his lips were sealed shut.

…

"Now tell me," now speaking, "if you don't mind... What's your real name, little Miss Mochaccino?"

The woman spat in his face.

"Oh. You shouldn't have done that."

Violated. Where only a lost soul would go. Sodom and Gomorrah.

Bodies entwined, locked together. There was no love.

No love at all…

Yelling, screaming and cursing from each partner. Once or twice did he have to raise a dominant hand—

"Shut up Shut up SHUT UP!!"

"No!" The weeping only got more flagrant.

The noise pounded in his eardrums. He couldn't take it anymore. Bradley was going hysterical. She wasn't bleeding. Only bruises near the areas of her once sacred femininity after his corruption—

A poisonous thought jolted through his brain—All of a sudden he wanted the Beret Girl dead, even if it meant having to strangle her with his bare hands—

But that's not what I want!!

He exploded within her, and the twisted fantasy died with it.

"Agh!" Burying his face and screaming into her bosom, before he burst into tears.

Like a child that had lost its mother.

I'm tired! So tired… So tired.

They slowly distanced themselves from one another. In excruciating pain, emotional turmoil, and a confused, scorching hatred. The junior collapsed—a dead man trying to get off the bed.

Bloodshot eyes could never understand what this creature knew, what he went through to get himself in such a damned place as this, cold and shivering on the ground. And how she, a woman that meant no harm, only living to express her deepest thoughts, fears and desires in the guise of pretty, sensual words—ended up being dragged down with him…

This Hell on Earth.

#bradley uppercrust #bradley uppercrust iii #beret girl #an extremely goofy movie #fanfiction #disney #shipping #oh noes #bad mojo

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