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dreamauri · 4 months

Note

Whens the next part of My love all mine coming out?🤭

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part six ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / fluff ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( - ) ╰ 🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

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“It’s so fluffy.” Max whispers, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You chuckle slightly, shuffling further back into his lap to get comfortable. The dutch, wrapped his arms around your waist to remove the space between your back in his chest. Max leaned his chin on your shoulder watching with you the tiktoks you scroll through.

You find yourself holding in a laugh when the video of drunk Max and Daniel on a plane. Max finds himself gasping, taking your phone and looking at it in disbelief. “How long–” “That's been there forever.” you tease taking your phone from him.

You press on the search bar, type drunk max verstappen to show him all the clips people have seen, including that one time he and Charles were calling each other from on a cruise ship.

“Ah, young love.” You tease him. Max gives you a deep frown and a confused face. “Me and Charles?” “There’s a whole hashtag dedicated to you guys.” You tease, scrolling through a bit more, you come across a video of you and max drunk sway dancing from the after parties from the monaco gp. You knew some girls were doing something. “I liked that dress.” Max nuzzles in your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“You got me that dress, remember?” “Yeah, that’s why I like it.” He smiled widely and you felt yourself laugh, melting in his hold. You liked loved moments like these. Just you and your husband, sitting on a balcony under the moonlight.

You wish everyday could be like this, peaceful and calm, just comfortable nights for you and your husband. But you always have to remember that Max Verstappen was a world renowned sportsman. He spends his weekends driving and weekdays training.

And even when nothing was going on, there were still people in the media who wanted to bite you. Looking through the comments was a mistake. You sighed reading how people said they could treat Max so much better or just picked on your mistakes.

“What’s this shit?” Max grumbles, scrolling through the comments. There was a pattern. People were nice to him, praising him, complimenting him. Telling him how he was such a good husband. On the other hand, others were commenting on how you weren't enough for him. How he could do and how much he deserves so much better.

“I don’t think these people understand I’ve been . . . what’s the world? Simping? Crushing on you since high school.” You held a giggle at the statement. He took your phone from you, starting to report every hateful comment. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his determination. “You don't have to do that.” “Shhh, wifey. It’s fun.” “Sorry, hubby.” You gave him a soft kiss before he was standing up.

You went to get a glass of the lemonade you and Max had made earlier when you heard your phone ring. “It’s your mom.” He shouted through the hotel room before answering. “Hallo, mum. Het Max.” [hi, mom. it’s max.] He greeted her over the phone. You couldn’t hear what your mom said in return but Max laid back in his arms with a big pout. “Het is voor jou, liefje.” [is your mom, love] Max held the phone out for you. You chuckled, taking a sip from the lemonade and going to sit back outside with him.

“Hi mum.” You greeted her by putting the call on speaker. “Y/N, ik wil dat je met mij mee luistert. Ik kan zo ver niet met je leven en ik ga het niet langer volhouden dan dit.” [Y/N, i want you hear with me. I can't live with you this far and I'm not going to last longer than this] You found yourself freezing in your place. Tilting your head confused. “vergeet de verstappen. scheid dat kind en kom naar huis. Ik wil niet dat k wil je niet zo ver weg.“ [forget the verstappens. divorce that kid and come home. i dont want you so far from me]

Max snapped his head up, and you choked on your drink. Divorce? Your mom’s tone was harsh and mad. “Eh? scheiding? Dat wil ik niet. Ik boek wel een vlucht erheen, maar alles komt goed. je overdrijft.” [Eh? Divorce? I don't want that. I'll book a flight there, but everything will be fine. you are exaggerating] You ended the call before she could protest.

A moment of silence evaded the space, a once warm space was now cold. You didn’t dare speak, you knew Max was looking at you to see what you’d do next. You shook your head, holding your legs and looking down at your phone. “I-i don't want to divorce.” You told him finally looking up to meet his eyes. Max relaxed at your reassurance, nodding quickly as he sat up properly facing. “I don't either.” He held your hand kissing your knuckles. “I’ll book you a flight right away.” He said standing up.

“Wait, Max.” You stood after him, stopping. “I don’t wanna go.” You found yourself admitting, a deep sigh leaving your throat. Max was the door of escape from your family. They’d always put pressure on you to be some perfect academic person. Graduating high school with honours and valedictory. You gave up on being normal when university came around.

It was only when you married Max were you able to pick up a paint brush again. When Jos had approached you and your family about his son wanting your hand in marriage you took it right away. An escape. You didn’t know him, so marrying him was a risk. But if you never took that risk, you would’ve never found yourself living your life like you are now.

“It’s your mom and family.” He told you, turning to you confused, looking down at his phone for flights. “You’re my family.” You replied without even thinking.

The blond snapped his head up, taken aback by your words. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to leave you— Correction, I don't want to be without you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There you are." Your mother hummed happily once you pushed the door open. She opened her arms and you immediately went for her embrace, wrapping your arms around her back with your head on her chest. "Awh, look at you." The woman cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your head.

Max always had an odd feeling about the woman, From the moment she first saw him, till now she always give him this disgusted glare. "And I see you've brought your husband too." The words were bitter in her mouth. "I thought it was clear I wanted just you."

"Well," You looked back at the blond. "I don't know how to drive, and Me and Max we're together. So, yeah." There was a long pause, long eye contact between you and Max. "He doesn't love you." Your mother whispered in your ear, cupping her hand over her lips so max wouldn't hear or see.

"Don't be naïve, sunflower. He's after your looks." She stroked your hair. Max could see your eyebrows furrow weather in disbelief or in betrayal. "Your a trophy. If he really loved you, he'd come a whisk you off your feet. Make you fall in love with him and ask for your hand in marriage himself."

Your heart panged against your chest. She had a good point. If Max really loved you, why did he do the things the way he did. Why did you have to pick yourself up at the airport and let yourself into the apartment, and clean it up yourself? Why did you not have a choice to see if you loved him before marrying him? Why did he pluck you out of the life you already had?

"He's not good for you." Your mom whispered, her manipulative words getting through to you. "He's using you. He likes your body, your face, your image. Come to mummy, i wont hurt you, yeah? I'll keep you safe."

You jumped up on your feet clearing your throat. Max immediately noticed the shaky and hesitant body language you displayed. Fidgeting with your fingers and tapping the top of your toes on the floor.

"We should probably go, visiting hours are going to end soon." He stood up tall, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Max was surly surprised to see you flinch, and even more angry to see the deceiving gentle smile your mother gave hi. "Hours start at 12:30 tomorrow. Don't be late." She said.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max found himself tracing the lines to the glass painting on your window. The hospital wasn't far from your mom's house which had your old tween room before your parents divorced. The faded purple walls with scenery painting on them with stickers and posters.

"They're pretty," He hummed. "We should try these out on our windows back home." He turned to you, pointing at the window. His body felt still once he caught your fear filled eyes. He gulped, moving over to you, sitting on his knees beside you.

"I don't know what your mother is telling you. But I love you. No matter what." Max held your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me and I'd never change anything about you or us."

You looked in his ocean eyes, too big for his head yet so beautiful for his own good. The second you looked away Max knew your mother was in favour at the moment. He knew that old narcissistic woman had won the moment you had slept with your back facing him. You never looked away from him.

And the sight or your sleeping figure facing away from him made him feel as if his heart was being ripped apart slowly and painfully. He was scared to even touch you. Max would never ever risk making you feel uncomfortable.

This would be your last night under the moon light together.

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 4 months

Text

I'm unsure if I'll consistently write for TF2 but omg has this been rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken from Costco

MEDIC, SNIPER, ENGINEER EATING YOU OUT

NSFW MDNI

Includes: a smidge of consensual somnophilia, fingering, tonguing, overstimulation, mention period blood/blood consumption (?), breeding if you squint

S/O is afab with fem pronouns

MEDIC

We can all agree he is a FREAKKKKKK

Now lemme say this

HE LOVES WAKING YOU UP LIKE THIS

Like seriously

He could do this forever

The soft/breathy moans you let out whenever he goes down on you

And how your body responds to his actions??

Omg he could just stay there

Doesn't care if you lock your thighs around his head, that's what the respawn machine is for

Loves it especially if you're having a wet dream about him, gives him an excuse to eat you out

Will love it even more when you're on your period/ovulating

Just the taste and smell of your blood and arousal mixing on his tongue and how much more fertile you will be when your period/ovulating finishes

It drives him INSANE

Will literally groan into your pussy from the satisfaction of your taste

Maybe whimpers/begs if he's pussy drunk

"Mein liebe! I can't get enough of jou..pleaze let me taste more of jou.."

If he's REALLY pussy drunk, he'll start speaking in his native tongue

Likes to think he's just helping you with your cramps (in which case he is :3)

He leaves bite marks on your thighs, it's canon I don't make the rules

I feel as if his tongue is more wetter than most, maybe a little slimly

And on the semi-thicker side

Would use his fingers to watch you flutter around them as he presses kisses into your skin

Then pull several orgasms from you via mouth until the only thing you are screaming is his name

"Scheiße.." Ludwig whispers to himself as he drags his hands slowly up and down the plush inner thighs of yours, observing the scarred skin as a trail of goosebumps followed right after as a breathy moan left his lips. He originally came in to wake you up as it was nearly time for breakfast as knowing the others, the food will probably be gone in just a matter of minutes. But a certain smell hit his nose when he approached the bed, one that made a unmistakable shiver of excitement go through his body.

The smell of period blood.

It wouldn't have been the first time he has gone down on you while on your menstrual cycle even you were while sleeping, but everytime it always brings him as sense of extreme arousal whenever he gets a whiff of the metallic scent. He would never tire of the smell or taste of it, not even after having tasted it 1,000 times would he never tire.

His breath comes out heavier as he drags a finger from your hole to clit, voicing his pleasure as he sees just the amount of blood and arousal that gathered on his finger from one stroke alone. Something in him went feral as he saw how your hole seemed to flutter, begging for him as the slightly quiet moan of yours left your lips. With no hesitation, he dove into your folds, hungerly lapping up your arousal as he groaned, eyes closed as he savored the flavor of you on his tongue as he thrusts it into you at a semi-fast pace. He made sure to pay attention to your clit, bringing his fingers up to gently rub at it to add to your pleasure.

A buzz went through his body as he continues his actions, his free hand anchoring itself onto your thighs as they twitched. The world seemingly disappeared around him as he made out with your pussy, blood and arousal smearing onto the lower half of his face as he angled his tongue to reach the right places inside you. A stream of whimpers were leaving your mouth, an absolute musical to his ears as he drinks you, a mixture of saliva, blood, and arousal slowly drip down his chin and onto the pristine white of his collared shirt. The other mercs might notice it, if they're observant enough, but to hell with them.

It wasn't long until your insides clamped tightly around his tongue as a long moan left your plump lips, walls pulsing as gushes of your arousal cover the entirety of the lower half of his face as well as the top part of his shirt and vest. Pulling away was a struggle, moans leaving his mouth as he humped the bed, lapping up the rest of your arousal with a hunger, merely pulling away when your twitches increased. He was somewhat surprised when he made eye contact with sleepy eyes, observing how flushed your face was and the dripping sweat begining to form around your hairline as your lidded eyes observed him, chest heaving heavily as you attempted to catch your breath.

God you are going to be the death of him.

The stinging pain of his hair being pulled snapped him out of his trance, your hand fisted in his hair guiding him back down to where he was before previously. He lets out a low groan when he sees just the absolute mess that he left. He needed no words when you pulled him closer, his breath fanning your heat as he watched your folds flutter from anticipation.

"Meine Liebe, du machst mich absolut verrückt.."

ENGINEER

All I can say is

HE IS A TEASE

AN ABSOLUTE TEASE

Like, he will basically make out with your pussy

Full on french kissing it

And when you're about to come, just sooo close to that edge, he just pulls away

And he will MAKE you beg for him to let you come

But will then make you come over and over again, chuckling whenever you try to ask for him to slow down

Dw you guys use the stop light system

He's not Engineer w/o that gentleman in him

"What's the matter, darlin'? Thought you wanted this~"

The main reason he does this? To see you squirt

No joke, he thinks you become more attractive when you're squirting

His mouth is so warm

AND HE HAS A THICK AND ROUGH TONGUE

He knows how to use that thing

And he knows very damn well

Prideful bitch (I love him)

Will more than likely use the Gunslinger when going down on you too

Inserting those metallic fingers inside you as he slightly nibbles at your clit, enjoying those small yelps you let out

His fingers are pretty thick too

Always cleans up/showers so you don't have to worry about oil or smth like that

I've seen this around whenever reading anything smut related about Engie, but he adds a vibration setting to the Gunslinger

It just makes sense

He would absolutely love to bite around your thighs, placing his hands on your love handles to keep you from squirming away from his touch as he continues his teasing

Bc he's in the workshop most of the time, he'll sometimes forget to come to bed most of the time and that ends up with you pretty needy

So to make up for it he'll eat you out with a passion, going slow and taking his time to work you up to that point, dropping some praise here and there as he kisses bits of your skin as he licks at your core in long strokes

Or just eat you out while you're sleeping, it's a 50/50 with this man

Also doesn't care if you clamp your thighs around his head, do it however much you like cause his mama didn't raise no wimp

Gives so much praise

Like so much it's sickeningly sweet

If he's still in his work clothes, he'll put his helmet on your head before going down

"Keep tha' safe f'me, yeah?"

He's a cowboy and a gentleman through and through

Will sometimes go down on you in his workshop if he's desperate enough

Which has led to some unfortunate walk ins (poor pryo will never see you guys the same anymore)

"Fuck! Dell slow down!"

Despite your pleads, the engineer between your legs didn't bother to stop, seemingly just going faster, his tongue lapping at your pussy like a dog. The only indication you had that he heard you was the slight chuckle vibrating against your core, moans slipping past your lips as you felt yourself nearly tipping over the edge, the temperature of the room seemed to rapidly heat up the more that thick tongue of his teases itself inside of you.

God he's been going at it for so long. The insides of your thighs are literally dripping with your previous orgasms, thighs shaking as you attempted to keep them from clamping them around his head as he drinks up your arousal.

But right when you were just about to come, just right at the very very edge, he stops all movement. Whines and gasps left your mouth as you begged him to keep going, to not stop, all attempts futile as he was pulling away from your core with a sly smirk on his face, using his tongue to lick up the extra fluids that collected around his mouth.

"What's the matter? Isn't that what you wanted, Honeybee?" Oh you could just slap that smirk off his face if that throbbing desperation of yours wasn't bothering you so much.

"Fuck please don't stop! Please!" Desperate pleas fell from your lips as you begged for him to continue what he was doing, begging him to just keep going despite your earlier complaints. Though what you weren't expecting was the sudden intrusion of his thick finger, a pleasured yelp leaving your mouth. The mechanic pumps his finger at a deliciously fast pace, the semi-rough texture of it providing a sensation that has your eyes rolling back as it scrapes against all those good spots within you, fingers gripping at the bedsheets when it hits a particular spot within you.

"That's it, let yourself go for me, Honey." His words effortlessly drip off his tongue, his eyes watching as his finger gets covered in your juices in seconds, adding a second one with ease to the first, watching how you squirm underneath him. Though he noticed how a little bundle of nerves was being neglected, and being the man he is, decided to fix it as he leaned down and gently takes it into his mouth, sucking it in a soft manner.

That seemed to have been enough to pull another orgasm from you, strings of moans leaving your lips as the mechanic listens in satisfaction as he drinks. You. Up.

Your mind was completely fogged with pleasure, small twitches here and there as you attempted to get your breathing under control. In the midst of that, Dell pulled away being careful to not overstimulate you any more as he pulled his fingers out, peppering your thighs with kisses as he waits for you to come back to earth, a smile on his face.

"You alright, darlin'?"

It took you a few seconds to process the question, only mustering up a nod, that was enough for him though as he leaned up to place a careful kiss on your cheek. "Okay, Hun. How does a nice warm bath sound?"

God I love chubby strong men

SNIPER

He has fangs

He will use them (gently) whenever he can

Nibbles at your clit/folds or your thighs whenever he goes down on you

I feel like he has a smell kink

Oh who am I kidding he DEFINITELY has a smell kink

Like, look at him

He's obsessed with the smell of you

To the point he kinda steals a few pairs of your underwear from your dirty laundry to keep for himself

Okay moving on

Has wandering hands, he cannot keep them in place

Very shy when it comes to it, and awkward for the first few times

But after a few encouraging words and teases he gets right to it

His tongue is a little longer than the other two

It's not as thick but omg can he reach allll those good spots in you

Maybe a smidge less wetter than Medic's

A little submissive, considering he's very touch-starved

Fastest to become pussy drunk too

So many whimpers and moans are falling out of his mouth and into your pussy

"Ohh bloody hell, Roo.. I can't stop.."

Denies that he even got pussy drunk (liar)

A little cautious whenever your thighs are slightly squeezing his head

Cause my man is HELLA skinny

A stick if you will

Head would easily collapse compared to the other two

One time you squeezed your thighs a bit too hard, and he ended up with a cranium broken into several pieces

That was fun explaining to the Medic

When the others found out they never would let him live it down

Poor guy :[

His fingers are longgggg and have a good amount of thickness to them

Like he spends more time watching his fingers stretching out your cunt

If he feels adventurous enough (or brave) he'll want you to sit on his face while he eats you out

You swear he gets more vocal when you sit on his face

So. Much. PRAISE.

He accidentally edges you without knowing it sometimes, but he always makes up for it <3

"Fuuuck, Roo.. You look so pretty spread out on my fingers.." The temperature in Mick's camper seemed to increase rapidly despite it being chilly in the early morning of New Mexico. The sun was barely peaking from behind the mountainous region, the interior of the van being dark due to the lack of light as you watched the outline of the sniper's frame above you with breathy moans leaving your lips as those deliciously thick fingers of his pump themselves into your heat.

His sunglasses were still on the small bedside he had in his camper, giving you a clear view of his eyes as they were intensely watching how his fingers disappeared into your heat with a erotically wet 'squelch' filling the space of the camper.

"Mick! Je–sus don't stop!" The knot in your stomach seemed to be getting tighter, steadily building up in pressure the more time that passed as his fingers dragged deliciously against the ridges of your walls, shocks of pleasuring shooting out through your nerves.

Though it seemed like his fingers inside you weren't enough, as he lowered his head to be leveled with your sopping wet, hot core.

Removing his fingers, whines left your mouth, about to ask him why he stopped before keening at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit and the feeling of his warm tongue pushing itself into your hole.

"Fucking shiT–!"

His normally cool and calm facade quickly broke down the moment he had a taste of you on his tongue, whines and gasps leaving his mouth and into your core, making it more pleasurable for you as your back arched up from the bed, your hand shooting out to grip at his hair as an anchor.

The action alone pulled a loud groan from him, his tongue seemingly going at a faster pace, messily lapping at your flowing juices as it covers every inch of his lower face and the inside of your thighs.

His hands soon began to wonder, various places of your body did he squeeze gently, what was once steady hands were shaky and unsteady as they continued to roam your body feeling every bump, scar, and crevice underneath his fingers tips.

Everything started to become fuzzy from the constant pleasure and sensations, to add to it Mick hasn't stopped those beautiful moans of his as your cunt muffled them, you could faintly hear some words, most likely words of praise. You could see the top half of his face through teary eyes, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as sweat dotted here and there on his face, hair messy and pointing in nearly every direction, god he was just so handsome.

The knot in your stomach finally broke, waves of euphoria washing over your body in rapid paces, nerves sparking and lighting on fire as the sensation surges and crashes throughout. Unconsciously, you accidentally wrapped your thighs around the sniper's head, squeezing a bit too tightly for his comfort. That's if his mind was clear, he would've cared, though his top priority as of now was to clean you up off all those delicious juices spilling out of your core and onto his tongue.

It took him some time to pull away once your ecstasy has passed, removing himself from in-between your thighs, placing delicate kisses along the way as he pulled himself up to lay down beside you.

Silence for a few moments, before you began to giggle exhausted, wrapping your arms around him to huddle yourself within his warmth.

"Wha's so funny, Doll?"

"Do I really have that effect on you?"

"Wha'?"

"To make all those cute little noises of yours."

"... don't know whatcha talkin' bout."

"Liar."

AHHHHHH I WISHED TO HAVE FOUND A BETTER ENDING FOR SNIPER USUJJJJWHWIWHJEIE 😭😭😭😭 (probably will update it to fix that later tho)

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comicaurora · 8 months

Note

Also in light of the yu-gi-oh! Rewatch, do you have any opinions on the changes to Joey's character and arc(s) in the anime compared to the manga? It always felt like the anime REALLY wants to make him into the class clown and in the process missed/ downgraded some of his stronger moments for me, but I also read the manga first and am probably biased.

I think the one Joey change I disagree with is downgrading how much of an ass-kicker he is in the manga, but I think that was part of the general suite of adjustments they made to center the anime 100% on Duel Monsters, where that was a much more gradual thing in the manga. Several other games and non-game threats took center stage early on, and alongside that, Jounochi's origins as a badass delinquent punk were a lot more centralized in the early chapters. It didn't come up much as the comic went on and got more millennium-item-based, but on the rare occasion that anyone still tried to solve their problems with violence instead of card games, Manga Jounochi just. absolutely spanked them. It was a nice way to reinforce that card games and shadow games were ONE way for the heroes to solve problems, but they weren't the ONLY way - and it also kind of highlighted that everyone the gang was dealing with, no matter how much of a tough-guy gimmick they had, was still - you know - a card game nerd. Manga Bandit Keith got absolutely stomped when he tried to throw hands and it was hilarious. It also helped make Joey's Dark And Brooding Past a little more tangible - like, oh yeah, pre-Yugi-friendship this guy was regularly winning fights with entire gangs singlehandedly, if this were a problem that could be solved with punching he would have already solved it with punching.

It also helped make Yugi and Jou's relationship more of a foil situation in the early manga, a classic Big Guy Smart Guy duo. Jou regularly bailed out Yugi from bullies and bad situations by virtue of being the scariest motherfucker on the block, and in turn Yugi/Yami would only take over and help out when a situation was contrived to be so horribly unfair that Jou couldn't get himself out of it, at which point Yami would resolve it with a combination of smarts and dark magic. This dynamic slapped, but it was mostly relegated to the Season Zero chapters that didn't make it to the anime, so I can see why it got a little lost.

I also think part of why the anime dialed back Joey's ass-kicking is because they wanted to make Kaiba cooler and more consistent character-wise, which was a big struggle with the early manga, and that meant making him a little more of an action star - frequently at Joey's expense.

That said, I don't think the anime does Joey dirty when it comes to what really matters (card games) because they use the medium of card games to highlight Joey's most consistent character trait across both mediums: absolutely refusing to give up on a fight until his body literally gives out. If I had a nickle for every time Joey lost a duel on a technicality by falling into a coma on his last turn, I'd have two nickles.

This is also why I think the non-manga filler seasons and spinoffs are some of the most fun adventures in the show. Not only do they have actual non-card-game stakes, but they let Joey do fun things like wear power armor shaped like his favorite dragon and punch people with it. I'll take the loss of Manga Jounochi if it lets me keep Joey Vs The Evil Bikers From Atlantis.

#asks #not aurora

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ktwritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Into the Fire (a Game of Thrones fanfic, sort of...)

Title: Into the Fire Fandom: Game of Thrones, with all due disrespect :D Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Oberyn Martel x Targaryen!reader (with a side of Ellaria) Word Count: ~4,000 Summary: Prince Oberyn saves your life and eventually does what Oberyn does with you. Beta-read by the illustrious @bs-fangirl. Additional content notes below the cut.

Content Notes: I don't know that much about Game of Thrones and most of what I do know I don't care for. But I do like Prince Oberyn. Expect a bit of violence, first time, light breeding kink, oral, poly-dynamics, unprotected p-in-v, probably a bunch of other tropes I've missed. It's Oberyn, "dead dove, do not eat" applies.

Into the Fire

You had escaped the madness at King’s Landing (in part thanks to the belated arrival of Ned Stark’s troops and the ensuing confusion among the enemy’s forces.) You did not make it five miles–on foot at night–before being set upon by slavers, opportunists taking advantage of the chaos. At least they saw more value in you alive than dead.

You were frightened when the soldiers came, thinking they must have been sent by Baratheon the usurper. From the wagon at first all you could see was the flash of a golden spear in the firelight. A whole troop of men fell upon the bandits, but there may as well have only been one. He moved so swiftly and so well, like a tongue of red flame wicking through the forest.

He was the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, even before they pulled you from the wagon and you saw the banner emblazoned with a red sun. These men were of House Martell, not Lannister, and if your luck held you might live to see another day.

“What is this?” asked the man in red.

“A Targaryen bastard by the looks of her,” one of the soldier’s growled, seizing a handful of your corn-silk hair and turning your face toward the fire. Your looks were not so other-worldly as your cousins, but at least you bore a close enough resemblance that he did not mistake you for a Lannister.

“I’m nobody,” you pleaded. “I’m nobody.”

The man in red drew close enough that you could make out the features of his face. You had seen Prince Oberyn only once before, at Rhaegar and Elia’s wedding feast, but his looks were unforgettable. You were surprised it had taken you so long to recognize him and even more surprised that he seemed to recognize you.

“I know your face,” he said. “You were a maid to Princess Elia; you were at King’s Landing. Tell me what you saw.”

“I hid–” you whimpered as the soldier pulled your hair.

“You abandoned your lady,” he said.

“No,” you cried. “When Lannister turned on us, the guards took her. I hid in the servant’s passages. I heard Tywin Lannister give the order to the one they call the Mountain to murder Elia’s children. I went to the nursery, but the children were gone. I searched for them–”

You admitted to all that you had seen. The gore, the horror. Elia cleaved in two from root to navel and her children smashed. The anguish that would never leave you. All the while Prince Oberyn’s face remained still as a stone, but you could see the sorrow and rage behind his dark eyes.

“You lie!” The soldier accused. “How could a mere girl escape such chaos unspoiled?”

“The same way anyone does,” you said. “Blind luck.”

The prince paced alongside the wagon, assessing you, sizing you up.

“And you’re sure it was Tywin who gave the order?” he asked.

“I swear,” you nodded. “On my life.”

The prince wanted to ride for King’s Landing immediately and dispatch Tywin himself, but ultimately his generals dissuaded him from such rash action. In the meantime, they gave you bread and wine and allowed you to rest in the first safety you had known in days. It was dawn before you saw the prince again. Even with a frown and deep lines etching his forehead, he was still the loveliest man you had ever seen.

“I can leave you a mount and a bit of gold for your journey,” he said. “But I cannot spare any of my men to return you to your people.”

Over time the sacred words of your house had become twisted. The life-giving warmth of fire and the sacred blood of kinship and covenant had turned to violence and ambition. Was it any wonder that Aerys’s reign had festered? But sweet Elia, a gentle princess and devoted mother, you would have followed her anywhere.

“I loved your sister,” you said. “Her people are my people.”

“Very well,” Prince Oberyn said, and for a moment a look crossed his face. You would have sworn he was pleased. “We sail for Dorne first thing tomorrow.”

You had passed six long years in Prince Oberyn’s harem, wanting for almost nothing. The court at Dorne was filled with carnal delights you have never before experienced: music and dancing, glittering jewels, perfumed baths, and the finest food. All of it available to you.

And the prince’s other concubines doted on you. When you first arrived in Dorne at 19 they considered you a baby. Meanwhile gossip at court held that your young cousin had been married off to a Dothraki warlord across the sea. Not that you would have traded places with young Daenerys, but in six years Oberyn had not once invited you to his bed. Besides the occasional chaste kiss on the hand or cheek he had not laid a finger on you.

Ellaria counseled you to be patient, that your time would come. But after so much time you were beginning to think Prince Oberyn had only taken you in as a matter of duty–that he had no desire for you at all. Like all the prince’s lovers, you were free to have any man or woman you desired, but you didn’t want another lover. You wanted the prince.

For your twenty-fifth nameday, the prince’s concubines plaited your hair, painted your face, and dressed you in fine silks. You felt lovely and terribly grownup, despite your lack of experience.

“Come,” Ellaria said with a conspiratorial grin. “Let’s go bathe in the southern garden, where the prince will see you from his window.”

The southern garden was a lush oasis tucked inside the palace walls. There was a clear saltwater pond surrounded by dry grasses and desert flowers. You disrobed in the shade of the palm fronds and slid into the water.

The lack of modesty among the prince’s inner circle had of course taken some getting used to after the formalities of King’s Landing. But ultimately you came to realize, there were many worthy admirers of your particular pale softness among the hard and tanned bodies of Dorne. Why should you deny them their pleasure, when those who didn’t appreciate your form were free to look away.

“Aren’t you coming?” you called to Ellaria, who was sunning herself in a chaise.

“I’m quite happy to enjoy the view,” Ellaria said as you swam. You chuckled at her playful flirting. You could understand, despite her low birth, how she could command so much of the prince’s affection. In all of Dorne, her beauty knew no equal and her charm was irresistible.

You loved to swim–floating, mostly–especially when the water was so cool and inviting. It was still early, the sun had not yet reached its apex, but the air was already hot and dry. You could see the prince’s window, watched his curtains moving in the warm breeze. You saw the prince come to the window, looking as if he had just roused from sleep. He leaned on the sill, watching as you stroked your way lazily across the pool.

When the sun had warmed your belly, you turned over to paddle your way back into the shade. You lost sight of Prince Oberyn, only for him to reappear on the steps down to the garden in his splendid red robe with a sheet of fine linen draped over one arm.

“You should keep this one out of the sun, Ellaria,” he warned. “She wasn’t made for it.”

You frowned as Prince Oberyn beckoned you to him. You rose from the pool reluctantly and he wrapped you in the sheet.

“I’m not afraid of being burnt, my Prince,” you protested as he draped the fabric over your shoulders and rubbed your arms to dry them.

“I’m well aware, my little dragon,” he said, touching your chin gently. “But how would it look for my prize to wander through Sunspear as red as a berry.”

You tucked the sheet under your arms and tied it off to secure it.

“Isn’t she beautiful, my love,” Ellaria said, rising from her chaise to join you in the shade.

“Very beautiful,” Oberyn agreed. He rested his hands on your shoulders, looking past you to gaze at Ellaria. “All the more reason to keep her from burning to a crisp.”

“Hair like spun gold,” Ellaria noted, gathering your damp braids in her hands, wrapping them back into your gold hairpin. “Skin so smooth, just like fresh cream. And so soft.”

The prince hummed to himself, watching her work.

Ellaria pressed her front against your back, she was almost a head taller than you, and you could feel the warmth of her sex against the small of your back. Her hands moved down your neck, her fingertips brushing the tops of your breasts.

“You like her soft, don’t you, lover? I’ve seen how you enjoy a bedfellow who gives.”

“I do,” said the prince, dipping his mouth toward Ellaria’s lips, perched beside your ear. “Why do you think I keep her so well?”

A jolt of excitement raced up your spine from your core as they kissed. You realized you enjoyed hearing them talk about you, around you, like this.

Ellaria slid her hands around your waist to the prince’s hips, pulling him into your body. You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into your belly.

Ellaria moved one hand to the side of your head, turning away from the prince to catch your mouth in a kiss. Her lips were impossibly soft against yours and she tasted like honeyed wine. Then Prince Oberyn bowed his face toward yours and you didn’t know whose tongue was in your mouth. You felt dizzy with pleasure.

Ellaria pulled away and you moaned for the loss, but Prince Oberyn was holding your face in his large hands and his tongue was moving past your teeth, delving toward your throat. Your body felt like soft clay, molding into them. Ellaria kissed your neck, taking your hands in hers, moving them into Prince Oberyn’s robe.

“Like this,” she whispered, guiding your hands over his chest, fingernails scraping against his nipples, palming the hard muscles traversing his abdomen.

The prince’s skin was nearly as smooth as yours, until your hands reached the wiry hair trailing down to his swollen cock. The prince moaned into your mouth as Ellaria positioned your hands around him.

“Gently,” she instructed. “You’re doing so well.”

As you carefully stroked the prince’s shaft, Ellaria’s hands moved across your body, kneading your breasts, traveling down the soft curves of your belly to grope at your mons, assessing the wetness of your inner folds.

“She’s ready,” Ellaria said. “Take her.”

Prince Oberyn pulled away from you panting. Your own chest heaved with exertion and your head swam.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“Not today, lover,” Ellaria said, running a perfectly shaped fingernail down your nose affectionately. “Today is for our little dragon.”

“Come,” Oberyn instructed, leading you by the hand up the steps to his bedchamber. “There’s another nameday gift waiting for you yet.”

You hesitated, turning back toward Ellaria, looking for assurance or permission.

“Go,” she said, shooing you along with a friendly smile. “Go! Enjoy yourself.”

You followed Prince Oberyn up the stairs, full of uncertainty and excitement. His bedchamber was the finest you had ever seen: the heavy wooden furniture was ornately carved and polished to a mirror-like shine, hand-woven rugs stretched nearly from wall-to-wall. At the very center of the room was an exquisite canopy bed with silken drapes of red and gold.

“Sit,” the prince urged, motioning to the bed.

You took a seat at the end of the bed, leaning back on your forearms, anticipating your long-awaited ravishing with something akin to glee. Instead, the prince retrieved a lidded basket from the table and brought it over to the bed.

“For you,” he said. “A gift; be gentle with it.”

Your lips parted in surprise. You lifted the lid of the basket, gazing down into its contents: armor-like scales, writhing, and hissing softly. You counted three pointed, perfect heads with shining black eyes.

“Oh,” you sighed, reaching into the basket, allowing one of the serpents to coil around your fingers. “They are beautiful, my prince.”

You lifted the first creature out of the basket; its scales shining copper in the sunlight as its forked tongue darted out to catch your scent.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Only if they bite,” Oberyn said, reaching into the basket to retrieve another snake for you to examine.

“Are they likely to bite?” you asked, the snake in your hand coiled its tail around your wrist. You marveled at it, reaching for its final companion, a tiny, emerald-green thing which wove its head in and out from between your fingers.

“Not these hand-raised babies,” Oberyn said, pressing his face toward the snake’s in a show of faith. “All they want is to be kept warm and safe and fed on the finest rats Dorne has to offer.”

“Like me,” you laughed.

“Are you partial to rat, little dragon?” Oberyn smiled, returning the snakes to their basket. “I will have to inform Cook!”

You laughed, leaning back in Oberyn’s bed as he set the basket aside.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you said. “I adore them.”

“I am glad,” Oberyn said, returning to the bed. “Rumor has it your cousin has added three dragons to her command, but this is the best I could do.”

“They’re splendid, my Prince,” you said.

Oberyn leaned over you, placing a hand on the base of your throat as he kissed you.

“I can’t wait to show the others.”

“Catalina is afraid of snakes,” he warned, his mouth trailing down your neck. You cradled his head in your hands, tilting your chin back to expose your throat.

“Then Catalina will learn to stay out of my room,” you chuckled.

Oberyn paused as his mouth reached the space between your breasts, curling his fingers under the sheet that still covered you. His eyes darted to your face.

“May I?”

“Please,” you gasped, arching into him.

Oberyn opened the sheet, taking each of your breasts in his hand, pressing the flat of his tongue against each nipple one after the other, nipping and sucking until they were swollen and sensitive. You could feel your arousal coiling like a snake at the base of your spine.

“So beautiful,” he breathed against your skin. “So sweet.”

“Now you,” you pleaded, touch the collar of his robe. “Please, my Prince.”

Oberyn grinned, rising from the bed to undo his robe. His body perfectly lean and hard and golden stood in stark contrast to yours. His cock thick and long, sprouting from a nest of dark hair fully erect; you thought he must be large, though you didn’t have much to compare him to.

You turned over on the bed, crawling to him on hands and knees.

“Can I taste you, my Prince,” you asked.

Oberyn took your face in his hand, playfully squeezing your cheeks until your lips pursed.

“How could I deny this face,” he said, settling onto the bed.

Oberyn turned onto his back, supporting himself on his forearms so he could watch as you moved over him. You took his shaft in one hand, lapping at the tip. It was different than you expected, a heady, earthy musk, salty and sour on your tongue. Oberyn made a soft, satisfied sound from deep in his throat.

“More,” Oberyn instructed, placing a hand on the back of your head.

You opened your mouth wide, wrapping your lips around him. Oberyn sighed, letting his head fall back against the cushions. Try as you might, you could not reach to his root, surfacing for air only to gag yourself in the next attempt. As you moved up and down Oberyn’s length, the sounds of pleasure turned to something more like discomfort.

“Stop,” he ordered through gritted teeth, silk sheets bunched in one hand. “Stop.”

You sat back on your heels with a frown as Oberyn sighed with relief to have his cock freed from your toothsome maw.

“I’ve displeased you, my Prince,” you said, horrified that the unbreakable prince of House Martell would lay down his weapon rather than suffer your untutored enthusiasm.

“No,” Oberyn beckoned you to him. “Never. You need more practice, that’s all.”

You stretched out on the bed beside Oberyn and his hands explored the curves of your body.

“You shall have your pick of my men as a bedfellow,” he assured you, interlacing his fingers with yours, lifting your hand to his lips. “And once you’ve had sufficient preparation, we can try again. You’ll have many more opportunities to amuse me, little dragon.”

Oberyn’s fingers wandered, tracing each of the pale lines adorning your breasts and belly. If one didn’t know better, they might have assumed you had already had a baby.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside you,” Oberyn explained.

“On my honor, I am a maid, my lord,” you said as his fingers circled the sensitive jewel at the peak of your folds. The serpent in your belly that had lain dormant for so long coiled tighter.

“On my honor, I care not,” Oberyn teased. “Though it is a special pleasure to be the first to delve into this cave. I don’t know what tales are circulated by Targaryen oldwives, but in Dorne our women are taught never to suffer inattentive lovers. Maid or not this should be quite pleasurable for you.”

You bit your lip as Oberyn probed one finger past your entrance, then a second. A little tight, a little stretched, but not uncomfortable.

“More?” he asked, probing deeper. You gripped his shoulders and shook your head.

“Not yet,” you said.

Oberyn waited, pressing his thumb into the peak of the wishbone between your legs. The serpent writhed.

“What are you doing to me,” you moaned, clutching the silk sheets.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Oberyn said, his fingers curling inside you. You shrieked as he touched a place inside you that sent a lightning bolt of pleasure racing up your spine.

“There,” Oberyn chuckled, withdrawing his hand to hold your face as he kissed you. “I’m sorry to report you are too small to take all of me. There are, of course, other avenues we can explore.”

Oberyn reached around you to squeeze the globe of your ass and you gasped in excitement.

“But that is for another time,” he said, moving over you. “Today is yours to enjoy. When I press into you I want you to close your legs so I can fuck your thighs while I fuck your cunt.”

You nodded, spreading your knees so that Oberyn could settle between them, aligning his cock at your entrance, rubbing against you spreading the slickness of your arousal over himself. You felt a sharp tug as you closed your knees around him.

“Pain?” Oberyn asked, slowly pressing his hips into you.

You shook your head. “It’s not bad.”

“Breathe, little dragon,” he said, bowing his head to kiss your breasts.

Oberyn’s movements put pressure against that sensitive spot and as he flicked his hips into you, you could feel the serpent in your core coiling tighter and tighter. You moaned with abandon, letting your head fall back against the cushions.

“Good?”

“Yes,” you panted, clawing at his arms, his back, scrambling for purchase.

“My little dragon has a fire in her belly,” Oberyn teased. “So hot for me, strong and eager.”

You moaned, arching into him.

“Tell me,” you pleaded, reaching to pull him into another kiss, hot, wet, and hungry. “Tell me more about what you want to do to me.”

“Such a needy little girl,” Oberyn panted, gripping your thigh. “Already drunk off my cock.”

You purred in agreement, biting down on Oberyn’s lower lip, your pupils blown so wide your pale eyes were nearly as dark as his.

“I’ll make you mine,” he said. “A finer mount than any dragon. My love, my plaything.”

“Please,” you mewled. “Anything…anything you desire.”

Oberyn ran a hand down your body, arching his back like a cat, his gaze settling on the space below your naval.

“I’m going to fuck a baby into you,” he said. “I want your breasts to swell and your belly to stretch with my child.”

You moaned, dragging your hands down his sweat damp back to grip the hard muscles of his ass. The snake coiling in your belly finally struck, every fiber in your body crackled like hot coals. You gasped as Oberyn fucked you through your climax.

As his thrusts slowed to a desperate grind, he withdrew from you and spent his seed on your belly and chest. He rolled off of you, onto his pillows, dragging one hand through the mess he had made of you.

He pressed two fingers to your lips and you took them into your mouth, suckling his spend from them like a newborn kitten after cream.

“You’ve done me wrong, Oberyn,” you sighed, turning onto your side to meet his gaze.

Oberyn reached over you to strike your ass with the flat of his hand once, hard, and you yelped. Another thrill of pleasure raced through you.

“You forget yourself,” he warned. “I am still your prince.”

He grabbed your face and kissed you, claiming your mouth with his own. You panted as he finally released you, resting your hands on his chest.

“You promised me a baby,” you said. “And all you’ve made me is a mess.”

“In time, my sweet,” he said, gathering your body into his. “I’d like to have you to myself a while longer.”

Oberyn brushed your sweat-damp hair from your face and kissed your brow.

“You need another bath,” he warned. “To freshen up for the feast.”

“What feast, my prince,” you asked, tracing the neat line of his beard with your fingers.

“We could not let a 25th nameday go unmarked,” he said with a wry smile. “Just a small celebration, little dragon. My brother has graciously allowed us use of the great hall to mark the occasion, or at least he will.”

“You spoil me, my lord,” you sighed.

Prince Oberyn escorted you to the great hall himself; there was already a fire raging in the very center of the room filled with wine and laughter and gaiety. You didn’t even notice Ellaria until she managed to slink up behind you to whisper in your ear.

“You are glowing,” she said and you laughed as her arms trailed around your waist. "I take it you enjoyed your time together."

“Very much,” you said. “Truthfully I’m surprised I’m still standing.”

“Then sit,” she said. “Lover, we’re going to sit.”

She leaned over to kiss Prince Oberyn on the mouth–the same mouth that just hours before had transversed every unspeakable place on your body. You took a seat on a cushion at one of the low tables surrounding the fire and Oberyn summoned a page to bring you wine and sweet date cakes, before running off to make merry with a handsome young courtier.

“Did you put him up to this?” you asked as Ellaria draped one arm around you.

Ellaria scoffed.

“Hardly,” she said, twisting her fingers through your hair. “A nudge, that’s all. Just a little reassurance. Even princes know to fear dragons.”

You took Ellaria’s hand in yours and placed a kiss on her palm.

“Thank you.”

End Notes: Ta da! Thanks to all who voted and all who've read this far. What do you think? Are you interested in more?

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn x reader #game of thrones fanfic

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serenityinstone · 1 month

Text

Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down.

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment.

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur.

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror.

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did.

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup.

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.”

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

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ashxketchum · 6 months

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Came across a tweet by an anime screenwriter about how he had recently worked on a script for a Chinese stage play adaptation of Digimon Adventure which opened in Shanghai this week.

He shared a few photos from the opening in Shanghai.

Did some digging around and found captures from the play itself posted by the production company on Weibo.

Set and costume design for a show like Digimon can be extremely difficult to replicate in stage plays but they've done such a good job at it!

Source: HappyKids Company on Weibo

The actors who are part of the cast also uploaded photos on their Weibo accounts. I won't share them all here, since I am not familiar with the etiquette for reposting celebrity pictures from Chinese social media posts on other sites. I'll add the photos shared by Official accounts that I could find, and some generic watermarked photos from the cast accounts which I will link at the bottom of the post.

Character profiles shared by Shonen Jump's Weibo Account.

Toei's Weibo account shared similar profiles but in case of Jou and Takeru they went for different poses.

Play captures shared by Bandai Namco's Weibo account.

These were shared by Yamato's actor. There are more pics of them in character here 😍

These were shared by Hikari's actor. There are more pics of them in character here (Mimi is there too!)

Merch being sold at the screening includes some cute stickers, some figurines and what seem to be matching Digi beanies for you and your cat!

Sorry for such a long post and intensive photo dump. I just feel so comforted by China's passion to keep the love for og Digimon Adventure alive, always perks up my mood when they come out with new content!

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ywpd-translations · 4 months

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Ride 755: Departure 2

Pag 1

2: Ding ding

3: The boarding the flight number 621 to Fukuoka, departing at 10:30 will close soon

4: If you're boarding, please speak to the staff member closest to you

Pag 2

2: Ah, that guy is angry

Shh

3: Oi

4: He said “I'm coming”, right?

Yessir!! I called him thirty times but he only picked up once....

He just said “soon”....

5: Then why aren't you here, Manamii!!

Pag 3

1: There's the Inter High soon, the Inter High!! Buah!!

So-sorry, I even sent many messages, but his current location-

It's been more than thirty minutes since you've said that, how's that soon!?

Pag 4

1: “Arriving late is a crime”!!

“Causing troubles is a serious crime”!!

Yessir

We told him that, too!!

3: Alright, I put Manami's ticket there, let's go

Huh!? Next to the window!?

That's a little-

Enough

4: Let's go, Yuuto, Tobirama

This time we'll fight as five people in the Inter High

'lright

Yes

No, but, he's the captain!?

Can't be

5: Ah... this must be my ticket

Pag 5

1: Kyushu

3: Take me there, too!!

4: Waaaa, Manami-saan!!

I'm so glad you came!!

Thank you so much!!

Well...

You really are like an here who arrives in the moment of need!!

Pag 6

1: Oi, don't misunderstand!! We were the ones in a pinch and this guy was the culprit!!

Yessir!

Sorry!

Ah, you exposed me...

2: Don't think you can dodge the matter of your tardiness just with your mood and cute face!!

Ah I thought I could make it

3: So?

Why... why were you late?

4: Ahh, I forgot my passport, then I remembered and turned back to get it

5: Ohhh... that's a problem indeed...

Wait!! You don't need a passport to go to Kyushu, right!?

Pag 7

1: Woah!! That was a clever excuse, Manami-san (It was so cool!)

It wasn't clever, and now let's go!!

Did you doze off?

2: Mh...? Well, on the train... it was only one stop?

So he really slept too much...?!

3: Jou-kun and Yuzukoshi-kun went on ahead?

4: They went there with yesterday's flight

Huh!

5: So, when you said “passport”, earlier- what was it, really?

6: Did you really turned back to go get something?

7: Mhh, how should I put it

8: In order to fulfill the final promise....

Pag 8

1: “The final promise”?

It was

3: a necessary piece

4: You're still wearing that ridiculous hat, Manami?

Ah... it's the one Ashikiba-san wanted last year... (Yuuto)

This is for exclusive use during the Inter High

Ohh... “exclusive use”, cool (Tobirama)

Pag 9

2: Kyoto... Kyoto...

7: Small fries!!

Pag 10

1: Then, should we go?

Are you...

Pag 11

1: finally ready?!

2: Yes....!!

3: Mi!!

6: This year's victory will be ours

Our long-awaited victory

Pag 12

1: It's checkmate!!

2: They're coming!!

3: They're coming!! One by one, to this land of Kyushu!!

4: Won't it favour us!? It's our hometown – us, Kumamoto Daichi!!

#yowamushi pedal #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 755 #another short chapter i really hope sensei is okay!!#I dont mind the short chap at all (especially bc lately ive had little time to translate) but im kinda worried :')#This chapter was so asdhsdfksdg Manamiiiii you absolute disaster #who would have thought that the responsible one in this team would end up being doubash huh #now that's the surprising thing lmao #manami really went back to get the best boy cap i cant with him #btw i dont remember; does he know that the one who gave him the cap is onoda's mum?? how does he know #'i went back bc i had forgotten my passport' 'you dont need a passport to go to kyushu!?!?!?' ashdkasdfs well at lest he tried lmao #also 'Yuzukoshi-kun'??? is he the other hakogaku member?? :eyes emoji:#cant wait to see what other weirdo hakogaku will have this year #i think this year's hakogaku is the weirdest one - which is a lot tbh #i feel like its going to be my fave hakogaku team #btw doubashi wanting to leave manami behind and just run as five assdgfkdfgs hes right and tbh he should just do just that whenever manami #doesnt show up - 'well i guess we're a five people team from now on'#btw i love i we saw everyone! only kiji's team is missing #(maybe theyll shop up next chapter who knows wanatabe loves kiji enough that it wouldnt surprise me)#midosuji shows up for exactly one panel and hes already creepy af i love him #cant wait to get to know the new guy!!#and hiroshima!!!! cant wait to see them try so hard and then get defeated in the most pathetic ways like every year #i love them i cant wait to see what kind of weirdo higashimura has become #he was kinda normal last year but we cant have a normal person as the hiroshima captain lrb #and then theres kumadai #acting all important and then we all know theyll do absolutely nothing ajsgfksadf

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unreal · 3 months

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this is a lil diddy I like to call "Glitterizing the Trauma Jou Went Through in the S0 Manga"

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shinayashipper · 14 days

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Puzzleship role-reversal AU following Egyptian boy Atem who transfered schools to Japan because of his father's job. As a son of a busy, high political figure, Atem constantly changes schools and have very little friends aside from Mahad and Mana who are the children of his father's close colleagues. (The other kids also got scared of him because his father is a powerful figure / only attempting to befriend him to gain benefits).

Atem grew up with strict lessons and pressure. Always have to be the best in everything. He always tried to maintain an aloof, cool-headed, always reliable leader persona, but in truth he's very shy and anxious. His only comfort was playing games, but it's very lonely to play alone (and he's not so fond of online games) (Mahad and Mana play with him but Mahad is older and doesn't have time to play childish games with him and Mana has other interests)

Atem had changed schools a lot, but it's the first time he moved overseas. He didn't know anyone in Japan and only spoke the language a limited amount (even tho his lessons back in Egypt always drilled the language into his brain but with no one to talk to it's pretty hard).

He instantly became The Talk at Domino High as "The cute/cool foreign transfer student from Egypt" and he didn't really like the attention. He became closed-off and only interact with his classmates a minimal amount, even tho he had always wanted to make more friends. (Now people thought he got a Mean Look, because of the frown 😂). Anzu was the first person who greeted him in good-faith because she purely wanted to get to know him and make him feel accepted in class (but he always brushed her off too). Jou and Honda are still part of The Delinquents(TM) and Jou just hated Atem's guts because he thought Atem is "snobby little Rich Kid". Kaiba is still Kaiba and he just Doesn't Care much.

One day, Atem got some free time and decided to visit a nearby game store: Kame Game. It's kind-of old and there's more board games and puzzle games instead of the ever-popular digital ones. But this is how Atem loves his games. (And there's always a weekly little tournament where kids can play Card Games against each other. Very Fun!).

When he came in, the store was empty and dark, but the store still has the "Open" sign at the door so Atem just kept going. There sits an open wooden box with silver carvings on one of the small table where kids play. Atem was intrigued to get closer and he saw some... wooden blocks. Maybe a Puzzle? Atem loves solving puzzles. Because this is just left alone on the play table, it means he can try it right? So he tried Solving it...

And as if the Puzzle itself was calling and urging him to Solve it... he's assembling it very smoothly. He can finally see that it's forming some kind of pendant, just a few more blocks but Grandpa Sugoroku suddenly appears and surprised him 😂 Gramps saw him with the Puzzle/Pendant and you know I really like the idea of him Knowing More than he lets on, he told Atem that this Puzzle was an artifact from The Gods' Time and whoever solved it will get a Wish come true. He urged Atem to take it home and solve it in peace. It might help you in some way, he told him.

So Atem brought The Puzzle home, thinking how that grampa was kind of Weird, but he's also intrigued with the Puzzle- so he's going to solve it. And a wish coming true doesn't sound bad at all...

Atem had solved it Perfectly, and it was a pendant. But nothing happens. Ha! What wish... Atem thought it's probably just Sugoroku's attempt to make him come back to the store and buy something. Atem was kind of Sad tho. But nevermind that, he got a new pendant now, so he wear it immediately and went to sleep. (Having strange Dreams about Storms and a boy with white robes and wearing The Pendant Facing Them... but he's not going to dwell with it- he must be Tired)

#puzzleshipping #reverse au #sorry its getting too long I have more notes but this post is getting too much ahaha sorry

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gadriezmannsgirl · 11 months

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hey ! can u write a fic with frenkie and the reader at the beach please ? 🫶🏻

Lovers at the Beach - Frenkie De Jong

Summary: You and your husband have a fun day at the beach after his winning season

"Frenkie, babe!" You said as he dribbled past you and scored in your made up goal. He had taken the ball from you as you fell on the sand with a pout on your face, watching your three months husband cheer and pointed his left ring finger before kissing it.

As much as you tried to be mad at him for fouling you, you couldn't.

Once you got married he said that would be his celebration, kiss where his left ring finger, dedicating you each and every single one of his goals.

"I love the celebration but you fouled me!"

"I didn't! I took a nice and clean take"

"Nice and clean, my ass. I'm full of sand thanks to you!" He laughed as you stood up

"For starters, you ass is nice but it isn't clean now, it is full of sand"

"Oh shut up, De Jong" You crunched down and threw him a bit of sand as it hitted his toned chest "That's a clear penalty" You murmur once he gets closer to you

It wasn't but you two laughed. You were pretty far away from his goal and he indeed, took the ball nicely from you, you just aren't ussed to it so you quickly lost balance and fell.

You have been on the beach the whole day, he was having a well deserved break from the intense season they had and gladly ended up winning and you two thought coming into this relaxed and beautiful place for you both could be a good celebration. You have lunched, had some snacks, did a bit of everything, sunbathing, talked, played a bit of poker, walking, etc... And now the sun was setting meaning you in a few moments were about to go back home.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as his went to your lower waist pulling you into him, he leaned down and kissed your lips softly, you couldn't help but smile into the kiss making Frenkie smile too and break it

"Five years of relationship and you still don't know how to play" He tasked as you laughed burying your face into his cheek laughing "I must be doing something wrong"

"Absolutely nothing at all" You said "You're just a lot better than me" He pushed his lips out and nodded

"I am"

"You're also so full of yourself, can't believe I'm dating you"

"Married me actually"

"Yeah, that" You said as you lifted your left hand to show him your ring finger proudly "I can't believe it"

"What?"

"That I married my soulmate" Frenkie smiled and he pulled you into another kiss, this one longer

"Glad to know we feel the same way" He said before giving a few slaps to your ass, making you flinch

"DE JONG!!!" You exclaimed at his boldness as he laughed "We're in public"

"So...?"

"Who are you and what did you did to my PDA reserved husband?" He laughed hard

"Let's get into the water, mi amor" He said winking at you before slapping your ass once more making you run after him to slap his

"No, you come back here! I need to get my revenge!" You yelled once he was into the water and you couldn't achieve your goal

"We should definitely put you to do a bit more of cardio" He jokingly said as you threw some water at his face "It's on, Ms. De Jong" You smiled hearing your new last name but stepped back seeing him swim towards you

"No, that was my revenge! Frenkie!" You yelled before he pulled the two of you into the water and kissed you underneath it. You followed him before both of you came out for oxygen.

Inmediately, your legs were around his waist and his arms around yours pulling you into him

"I love you so much" You said, he smiled and kissed you once again before pulling away and whispering against your lips

"Ik hou meer van jou, schat" (I love you more, baby)

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

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alectoperdita · 9 months

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i don’t know how this could be conveyed in fic, but i’m always thinking about kaiba filming promos and what not for tournaments/dm stuff and he makes snarky jokes about jounouchi’s presence but the camera keeps zooming in his face to emphasize the adoration and glee on his face when he sees jou do /any/thing. but kaiba is not selfaware. he reviews the footage wondering why the cameras keep recording his reaction during jou’s duels instead of the audience. they want u 2 notice something, kaiba

Ooo this is such a juicy idea, anon! I love me a pining Kaiba. It's even more entertaining when he's a bit oblivious.

I know you didn't quite mean this as a challenge, but it activated my outsider-POV-loving neurons. So I attempted to write a little ficlet based on your idea. Sorry, that was why I was delayed in responding to your ask. Also apologies that I'm a little rusty. Haven't been writing regularly recently. 😭 I hope you still enjoy it.

---

Kenji always figured that Kaiba's, well, everything was an act. A show persona put on for the masses to sell his tech and promote his tournaments.

No one could be that genuinely ridiculous.

Except he was. Kaiba appeared to be every bit that extra, as Kenji's teenage daughter would say.

("Dad, no one says that anymore!")

Because in the week since he started following the larger-than-life CEO around, he recorded a number of baffling incidents on film. Initially, he wrote them off as the producers' or Kaiba's people's attempt to inject more oomph into the series. It wouldn't be the first time. Kenji wasn't paid to care about that. He was the film crew. His job was to point the camera wherever the producers told him.

But not even Kaiba would stage an attempted kidnapping as a publicity stunt, right?

Kenji could've done without that one. Not just because he got far closer to a gun-toting maniac than he ever wanted to. The police also confiscated his equipment and that day's footage for their investigation.

But they were back to business the very next day. Nothing changed except for a few extra suits lurking in the background. Kaiba showed no signs of being shaken or slowing down. He had a tournament to throw, after all.

That tenacity and resilience were admirable. Kenji could see why Kaiba was so successful at his young age. Barely nineteen and he had the world in the palm of his hand. It was easy to forget the boy wasn't that much older than Kenji's little girl.

Nowhere was that more apparent than when Kaiba was surrounded by his peers.

Kenji kept his camera trained on the trio of teenagers. Kaiba towered over most, including people twice his age. Next to Mutou Yugi, he looked like a telephone pole.

"Kaiba-kun!" Yugi grinned, craning his neck to meet Kaiba's eye. "Glad to see you're well!"

Even an old fuddy-duddy like Kenji (again, much to his heartbreak, his daughter's words) knew about the storied rivalry between Kaiba Seto and the King of Games. But he was surprised by how calmly and politely Kaiba returned the greeting, even if his tone was a touch gruff. Kenji was unfamiliar with the blond boy who slung an arm over Kaiba's shoulders, however.

The blond boomed. "Still in one piece, eh? Saw the news about what happened. You really kicked those guys' asses."

Kaiba swiftly threw off the arm, but the blond didn't seem too offended. He also took a step to the side to put space between them. In profile, the tips of his ears went pink.

"They should've known better than to try anything. They've learned the hard way," Kaiba grunted. He made a motion to dust off his left shoulder, where the blond's hand rested mere seconds ago, yet his fingers seemed to linger momentarily on his flamboyant coat.

Not that the blond noticed. He was busy sweeping his gaze across the surrounding. "Yeah, tournament security's tighter than usual. Noticed 'em spooks hanging everywhere." Then he spotted Kenji. Or more likely Kenji's camera lens. He immediately perked, straightened, and puffed out his chest while flashing a crooked grin. "Hey, are they filming me?"

"No, deadbeat. Who would want to film you? They're filming me," sneered Kaiba.

The blond snapped toward Kaiba and took a step forward with his hands fisted at his side. A menacing move if directed at most people, but Kaiba wasn't cowed. He merely stared down his nose at the other boy.

The air crackled with palpable tension. If they started fighting, should Kenji keep filming or break up the fight? His producers probably preferred the former.

Yugi's eyes flitted between the two boys, then to the camera. "Kaiba-kun, Jounouchi-kun, calm down. Let's not fight before the tournament. I'm sure Kaiba-kun didn't mean that."

Kaiba and the blond, presumably Jounouchi, stared at each other for several more beats.

With a scoff, Jounouchi wheeled back and stuffed his hands into his ripped jeans. "Whatever. They can get a load of when the great Jounouchi-sama beat your flat ass out in the arena."

Kaiba smiled a sharp, toothless grin. "In your dreams."

Another charged pause.

Yugi shifted nervously.

"Only if you're lucky."

Kaiba's expression froze up. It looked as if he'd blue-screened and crashed. His ears were definitely pink now, though Jounouchi likely didn't catch that given how intensely he was staring at Kaiba's face.

But it didn't escape Kenji's notice. Or his camera.

Jounouchi smirked. "What? Cat got your tongue there, Kaiba?"

Kaiba coughed, making an admirable recovery. His expression retained an imperious quality when he replied, "Hardly. I'm merely stunned by your astonishing lack of self-awareness."

Jounouchi rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. You're fulla hot air."

And just like that, they found their way back to the conventional arena of trash talk.

Yugi checked his watch. "We should get to our places, Jounouchi-kun. It's almost time."

"Run along, deadbeat. Or you'll be disqualified before you even take a step into the stadium."

Jounouchi made a rude gesture that Kenji was sure they'd blur in post. Yugi cheerfully wished Kaiba luck before following the other boy. Strangely, though, Kaiba's gaze seemed to linger on the departing figures. For no more than a beat or two, then he straightened and strode down the hall in the opposite direction, coat tails flaring dramatically in his wake. Kenji had to hand it to the boy's stylist.

***

There was a surprising amount of downtime when the duelists weren't playing. Much more standing around and gossiping and observing the current game than Kenji expected. Now that the tournament had officially started, Kaiba joined the other duelists stadium-side. Kenji naturally followed him.

Kaiba stood ramrod straight, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the tournament proceed. It was a picturesque pose, but even that became dull when he did and said nothing further. He had already played his first seed of the tournament and won summarily.

Kenji hoped this wasn't how the rest of the day played out. It would be dreadfully boring in that case.

Then Jounouchi took center stage for his duel.

Kaiba scoffed silently, but he remained as attentive as ever. Maybe even more so.

Not even two turns in, the mic picked up Kaiba's stray comments.

"Again with that unreliable gambling mechanic."

Still, he grunted in near approval when Jounouchi called his coin flip correctly. Soon, his stance and facial muscles eased to a state one might even call relaxed.

"Lucky," he muttered when Jounouchi countered his opponent's trap, but the light in his blue eyes shone brightly.

Kenji was a Duel Monsters novice, but he could read the room. The crowd's energy—Kaiba's energy changed as soon as Jounouchi was backed into the corner. Even Kenji winced when the opponent's monster halved Jounouchi's lifepoints with one attack.

Kaiba took a step forward before catching himself. A newfound tension vibrated through his body as Jounouchi picked himself from the floor. "Don't tell me that's all you got, deadbeat," he snapped to no one in particular. "This is just the first round."

Jounouchi didn't give up. Determination shone through his every move and declaration. It made for dramatic television, which the official tournament crew was filming. Kenji stayed focused on his assignment, which was recording Kaiba's every reaction to Jounouchi's moves.

A cheer rose among the spectator.

Kaiba stiffened, but the corner of his lips twitched. Upward. "Oh, he updated his deck."

Something warm and fond bubbled beneath the surface. It might be pride.

A dragon materialized on Jounouchi's side of the field. Kenji couldn't help but be struck by how its appearance was the polar opposite of Kaiba's sleek, white ace monster—black leather wings, sharp, and covered in spikes.

Ironic.

Or, dare Kenji think it as he zoomed in on Kaiba's face, serendipitous, judging by Kaiba's familiar expression. It was the same one Kenji's daughter wore when she thought of her "beloved"—one Kenji probably still made for his Ikuko. Infatuation was the best word for it.

***

"Isono."

"Yes, Seto-sama?"

Isono glanced up from where he was taking notes of his boss's comments to send back to the production team. Reviewing the cut footage took time, but Kaiba had a vested interest in how he was portrayed and he preferred the hands-on approach in this instance. Kaiba's brow furrowed as he watched scenes of Jounouchi's tournament duels interspersed with close-ups of his own face and reactions.

"Why is it so focused on the deadbeat's duels?" he asked. Not angry, though clearly baffled. Even now, Kaiba's attention was glued to Jounouchi's face as it always was whenever the blond duelist came into the vicinity.

A moth drawn to the flames.

Isono's eyes flitted between his boss's current oblivious face and his smitten expression caught on film. Most people wouldn't recognize him as smitten, including Kaiba himself. Isono did, thanks to his years of employment, though he initially doubted it. Evidently so did the cameraperson.

For a second, Isono contemplated confronting his employer about his crush. But he liked his job. Kaiba was a bright young man. He would eventually realize it, right?

He cleared his throat. "Jounouchi-san performed quite favorably in this recent tournament. Stories about underdog competitors are always a crowd favorite."

He gave himself a mental pat on the back. Both statements were technically true.

"He did perform above expectation," mumbled Kaiba, studying the paused image of Jounouchi on the screen.

Isono dared to hope on his employer's behalf. Then it was dashed.

"We'll see how long his luck lasts then," Kaiba smirked.

One day, thought Isono, Kaiba will realize what had been staring him in the face all along.

#replies #anonymous #joukai asks #puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaijou #yugioh #my fanfiction #i admit i was kinda thinking about Usagi's dad for Kenji hahaha

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timothee-chalamets-girlfriend · 2 months

Text

Paul Atreides X Reader (Dune)

Part 2: The Beginning Of Arrakis

Paul Atreides walks behind his mother and father, following them to the Frigate hanger. He was wearing a black cloak, black boots, and gloves. His hair was greased back, keeping his curls from getting in his face, and looking more proper. Gurney Halleck, one of the Duke Leto's most prominent officers, was the first to enter the ship. A few more troopers come in as well before the Atreides make their entrance and find their seats in the Frigate. Paul leans back, strapping himself in. He was beyond excited. He had never been on a desert planet and was curious to find out the ways of its people. He figured he knew a good bit of information about them from the film books he studied, but there was always more to learn. Just a few minutes later, they deport from the hanger of Caladan.

The Frigate's engines roar with power as they ascend into the atmosphere of Caladan. Paul's mother and father, as well as Gurney, were going over their plans for when they reached Arrakis. Paul, on the other hand, was focused on the beauty of space once they had reached orbit. He had never seen so many stars this close before. It awed him. "Paul," Lady Jessica leans into her son's shoulder to get his attention. "You'll have plenty of time to watch the stars later, but right now you need to study with us." She tells him. "Mother, I know the drill already. Gain control of desert power and spice by replacing the Harkonnens." Paul replies confidently. "It's not so simple, Paul. The Harkonnens are dangerous. It's going to take a lot of time and effort to gain any control over this planet." The Duke implies. "You act as if I haven't been studying their ways for as long as I can remember." Says Paul, annoyed. "You've been distracted recently. Putting more focus into the Freman." Lady Jessica points out. Paul sighs, he knew he shouldn't be bothered by his parents. They were letting him come despite their own wishes. "It may be of use, you never know." He says, looking back out to the black, emptiness of space.

Paul jolts awake when the Frigate rumbles loudly. He looks to his mother who points to the outside of the ship. Outside was a large, orange planet. "Is that?" He starts to ask, his eyes locked on the planet below him. "Welcome to Arrakis!" Gurney yells out. The Frigate slowly makes its descend into the atmosphere of Arrakis. All Paul could see was a cloud of orange as they entered the rough atmosphere. The ship bounced and jolted as they went through the cloud, and Paul found himself tightening his grip on his seat's armrests. The lights were flickering all the way through the cloud. Gurney noticed Paul's nervous glance and smiled, "it's perfectly normal for Arrakis to have sandstorms in its atmosphere. The power may struggle a bit, but the ship itself is built for situations just like this." He assured Paul, and soon enough they were out of the storm. The ship steadied itself; Paul leans back and breathes heavily. The ride had made him feel nauseous. "Oh, Paul-" his mother notices his pale face. Paul turns away from everyone and lets out a few rounds of vomit. "He'll get used to it." Gurney says, not phased. "Look," Duke Leto motions to the view outside.

Outside was a view Paul could have never imagined, it even seemed unrealistic. It was an ocean, except it was sand. The sun was bright and he could feel its heat from inside the Frigate. Maybe wearing a black cloak was a bad idea. The desert seemed to stretch for miles and miles with nothing but its dunes and rocks. How did the Freman survive here? Paul was beginning to question if they were even real. Besides the heat and the unknown parts of the desert, Arrakis was gorgeous. Paul would have never imagined one simple color filling up an entire planet, and making it a pleasure to the eyes as well. But he knew, often the most beautiful places are the most dangerous. Yet, he wasn't afraid. He felt eager to start this journey on a new planet.

Once Paul's stomach had settled, he was the first out of his seat and was waiting anxiously for the Frigate's door to open. His mother and father stood behind him, his father's hand giving his shoulder a quick pat. The door creaked as it was opening, and even just a small crevice of Arrakis's sunlight was enough to blind Paul. He heard the door make contact with the desert ground, forming a ramp for them to walk out on. When he removes his hand from his eyes he is greeted with a gust of wind, causing his curls to break loose and flow in the air. Paul takes a small step forward, his right foot landing in the sand. The sand felt warm beneath his boot, and when he came out with his left foot he noticed himself sinking a bit. He walked forward some more, finding it takes a lot more energy to walk in sand than it did back home on the flat ground. He also realizes his steps leave an imprint in the sand, but it only lasts a short amount of time before more sand blows over it. Paul thought that was interesting.

The heat blazed against Paul's cloaks dark fabric. He had thought Caladan could get hot in the summer, but this was extreme. And this was all year around. He'd never been so hot in his life, and he was only a few minutes into being on Arrakis. It wasn't long until sweat started dripping down his forehead and soaking his body. Paul found himself stopping to catch his breath every now and then as they walked to the Grand Palace of Arrakeen. On one of his breaks he knelt down, taking off his leather gloves and shoving them in a pocket. He wanted to feel the sand on his skin. Reaching down, he picks up a handful of the warm sand. It felt coarse and rough, even a little irritating. It had a mysterious glitter to it, something he had never seen in sand before. He lets the wind grasp the sand from his hand and return it to the desert, returning to his feet and continuing the what felt like an eternal journey to the Palace.

It felt like they had been walking all day, as for the longest time all they could remember seeing were the sand dunes. The heat had also drained all of their energy in less than an hour. However, they had finally made it to the Palace. Gurney and the other officers enter the building first, and once they give the all clear Paul rushes inside. The air conditioning had to be one of the most reliving feelings Paul had ever experienced. Though, he wanted to cool down even faster. He slips off his cloak and sets it aside, leaving him in just his pants and boots. "Paul!" His mother calls his name in a firm manner. "We just got here, at least find yourself a room before throwing your clothes all over the place. And you will not be fighting with us if you're planning on doing it shirtless." She tells him. "Oh, come on Jessica, you remember your first time here. He'll get used to it as we did." Leto says while again patting his son on the shoulder. "But yes, go find your room and cool off in there." He then says after Jessica stares him down as if he had three eyes.

Paul obeys his parents, walking through the vastness of the Palace in search for a room. For a desert Palace, this place was oddly pretty. There were carvings on the walls, paintings on the ceilings, and every room had a wonderful view of the desert. The sun was starting its descent, causing the bottom of the sky to turn a reddish orange, making the sand glitter even more promptly. As much as he wanted to watch his first Arrakis sunset, the desert had got the best of him. It would take a few days for his body to adjust to the new climate. Paul finds a medium sized room with a large bed and a desk near the window. He wastes no time laying down, keeping the thick blankets off of him for now. He would most likely need them later in the night when it gets cold, but for now he was still trying to cool off. The weather here is weird, he thinks to himself before drifting off to sleep.

As he regained his energy, he had a strange dream. It was of him and his father fighting against the Harkonnens. They were so close to defeating them, so very close. In the dream Paul had somehow gained power, making the fight go down with ease. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. It didn't matter, though. It wouldn't happen anyway. He was just here to help, not to lead. The dream ended with them taking out a good amount of the Harkonnens, but it wasn't over yet. And he knew it wouldn't go down as swiftly as it did in the dream; his dreams often lied to him. However, the only thing different about this dream was that it was clearer to him. Not completely, but enough that he can remember the faces, even some of the emotions. Confidence was a big one. Too much confidence. It didn't make sense, he was always told overconfidence could be lethal. So why was he so confident in this dream? It seemed as if he was dreaming of a different person. It most likely never would make sense, anyway.

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #dune part two #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #timothee #timothee chalamet #science fiction #action #romance #adventure

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