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mrpenguinpants · 20 days

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Darling, Kiss Me.

— Kissing Scenarios with Honkai Men.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Sampo, Welt, Dan Feng + Blade

[Masterlist]

I’m alive, surprise. This is an old fic that I managed to finish but I must have been injected with 40ccs of something because I don’t remember this being so sappy. I’m also editing this on my phone.

Dan Heng

Despite Dan Heng's outwardly stoic and blank expressions, his actions show his hidden affectionate nature reserved for the ones he cares about most. When March wants to take a picture, he will throw up a peace sign even though he never smiles brightly for the photo. When Himeko brews her infamous coffee, he drinks it under the pretense of "stamina training," yet he downs it all the same. But with you, it's slightly different. The intimacy you both share is silent, one that doesn't require flowery words to convey the comfort you find in each other's company. His eyes will soften slightly whenever he looks at you, and even in a crowded room, his gaze automatically shifts to yours as if drawn to you. How he always has an arm around your waist if the ground is uneven and how he doesn't shy away from your touch either but wordlessly leans into the warmth. Likewise, you have a fondness for the simple acts. Stepping to the side to always make space for him in group conversations and most importantly, brushing his hair. It's short and always relatively straight, but it's a simple act that you treasure. Plus he makes a sound similar to a purr when he closes his eyes to relish in your gentle touch that has your heart warming.

"Dan Heng?" you breathe softly above him, and he lifts his head with a gentle hum. Your hands move from his hair to cradle his face, fingertips drawing soothing circles before your thumb rests on his bottom lip. It makes him smile a tad, your unspoken desire is evident and he opens his eyes to peer up at your shy expression. "May I kiss you?"

His silent nod confirms your wish, and the anticipation in his eyes has you biting your lip to stifle your giggle. Without wasting another second, you tuck your hair behind your ear and lean down to give him a deep kiss. The feelings of you so close to him, your chest against his back, his face in your hands, the contrast between his roughness and your soft demeanor sends a shiver of delight through his body. But unlike him, you have to break away shortly to catch your breath. Though he doesn't let you breathe for too long.

"Again," he whispers, his eyes laced with desire. Your giggle rings out, a delightful sound that brings a smile to his face. As you intertwine your fingers with his, you lean in to kiss him once more.

Gepard

Gepard wonders how everyone would react if they knew their disciplined Captain was nothing more than a hopeless lovesick fool. How you would react if you knew how often he sits at his desk and daydreams of you rather than getting any actual work done. He leans his chin against his head, blankly staring at the most recent report that sits on his desk, yet his thoughts revolve around you. The messy bed hair that greeted him in the bathroom mirror, the sleepy good mornings and goodbyes before he left for work, and the small peck on the cheek as you sent him off.

He takes his earlier thought back. He wonders how his younger self would react knowing that the Gepard now can't even get through a few minutes without thinking about his spouse. What reaction would he have seeing the ring on his finger?

"Are you slacking off Captain?" a voice calls from behind as a pair of hands covers his eyes before he feels something soft against his forehead. He nearly breaks his desk when he jumps, accidentally hitting his knee, and the resounding thud has him wincing, but he quickly covers it with a pained smile. It does nothing to placate you as you rush to his side with concerned eyes and your hands already ready to soothe whatever injury he has.

"Are you alright?" you ask, your adorable concern shines through with the way your eyes scatter around to see if he has any other injuries. How meek you look with your hands locked together nervously, the way your lips downturn into a cute pout. But his enamourment time is cut short as he quickly stands from his seat to place two hands on your shoulder and give you a reassuring smile.

"Yes, I'm alright. Although, what are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course," he flushes at his startled reaction to your presence, but you don't seem to take any offense if your smile is anything to go by. You tilt your head at him, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, as you wrap your arms around his middle.

"Geppie, it's lunchtime. We're supposed to go out, remember?" You shake your head, but the fondness of your tone and the nickname stir a gentle affection within him. He easily picks you up into his arms, the delighted squeal and another kiss on the cheek he gets for the action that brings a smile to his face, as he waltzes out the door with you.

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan isn't the Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights for nothing. Even with the "dozing" term attached to a rather prestigious title, he is fully aware of what you're doing. The attempts to weasel up to him, practically in his lap as you lean against him, only to pull away at the last moment. You playfully twirl his hair with your index finger before sticking your tongue out and skipping away.

But now it's night time and Jing Yuan can shed his title like the armor he smoothly removes in practiced motions. Right now, he is but a man who desires to kiss his tease of a lover. He doesn't give you a warning, this entire day has been a warning anyway, and he won't let you run away before getting his just dues. After all the playful antics, it's his turn now.

His eyes remain on his papers, but his ears are alert as he waits for your fifth sneak-up attack. Already attuned to the familiar rhythm of your footsteps approaching from behind as he counts down in his head. Your fingers brush against his hair, and he can sense the mischievous glint in your eyes, before he swiftly turns and scoops you up into his arms. The squeal that escapes you is more than worth it as you giggle and wiggle out of his hold.

"Nooo, let me go!" your cries are light-hearted and Jing Yuan revels in the moment of gentle playfulness that's desperately missing in his life as a general. You frantically continue tugging at anything that can free you, from the sleeve on his forearms to the lapels in his coat, you even crane your neck to bite his face as if you're a wild animal. Jing Yuan chuckles with a smug smile, and in the showmanship of strength, he easily stands up, his hands firmly under your knees in a secure but gentle grasp.

"Finally caught you," he breathes out softly before tilting his head down and closing the distance between your lips.

Sampo

"What exactly are you doing?" a voice sounds behind him, causing him to flinch slightly as he spins on his heel, his arms already up. He meets your frown with a cheerful smile and even a playful wink. Sadly, his charming facade has no affect on you, if anything it makes your frown deeper as your hands come up to cup around your mouth.

"Captain Gepard! There's a weird man he-"

"Wait! Wait! Stop! I'm sorry!" Sampo pleads, falling to his knees with his arms outstretched to latch his slimy hands around your waist as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. "Seriously, how could you do that to your own boyfriend?!"

You let out a sigh beyond your years but you sigh nonetheless. Your hands come up to pet Sampo's head, fingers brushing through his blue hair before your hand pushes away the strands lying upon his forehead so you can see both of his eyes. He peers up at you curiously before sending you another wink that you immediately pinch his cheek for.

"You know I wouldn't do that. Besides, what are you doing here exactly? If it is something scammy, I will tell Gepard," you say and Sampo gives you a devilish grin that has you instantly regretting asking. He unlatches himself from you to stand and reach for something in a wooden barrel. Before he pulls his arm out, he glances back at you to make sure your eyes are on him, before he pulls out a single white flower.

"For the most beautiful person in the galaxy. It's called a cecilia flower. A beautiful flower with a name that suits its appearance. It only grows where harsh winds blow, and is just as intangible as the true heart of an unbound soul. Here, for you," Sampo offers the flower to you and you tentatively reach out and grasp the delicate stem. You glance up at him to confirm, and Sampo nods with a sincere smile, and you let yourself fall into childlike glee of being gifted a flower.

"Thank you, Sampo," you whisper, "It's lovely."

A surprised squeak escapes your lips when Sampo nips at you, and then he starts peppering your face with soft kisses. It’s enough to distract you from asking how the hell he managed to get this flower.

Welt

Welt's caring nature knows no bounds for anyone he holds close to. Whether it's making sure the "youngster's" are well-prepared for their journey or making sure Himeko isn't downing her 7th cup of coffee, he ensures each interaction is filled with tenderness and care. Though he understands that everyone on the Express may come and go, he approaches every action with consideration and cherishing the time you spend with each other while it's still here.

In the quietness of the Express, where everyone has retired to their room, Welt sit's alone in the parlor alone. Even Pom-Pom has found a place to curl up and sleep the night away, leaving Welt to sit and bask in the silence. That is until he hears the familiar noise of the automatic door sliding open and he looks up to meet your startled eyes. You're both in a stand still as if he's caught you do something bad, regardless of the fact you're almost the same age, before he sends you a soft smile.

"Can't sleep? I understand — inspiration always comes knocking in the small hours. It's hard to ignore, right?" he asks voice almost a whisper as you sheepishly nod as you approach him and sit down beside him. It's a comforting silence between the two of you, the heat of your bodies drawn close together, as the world outside fades away. Until a soft hum escapes you and you lift your head to look at him, his small smile meeting your curious gaze, as he patiently waits for your inquiry.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of sleep but the amusement that flickers in your eyes is active enough that Welt props himself up to look at you more directly.

"Right now?" he asks, curiosity lacing his voice at your abrupt request rather than scrutiny. You nod an answer as you shuffle closer, still giving enough distance should Welt be uncomfortable, but he doesn't pull away, instead reaching out to brush your hair back and tuck it behind your ears.

In a quiet shuffle, he moves closer to you, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. His fingers trace the curve of your face affectionately, his movements slow and thoughtful. The earlier teasing gives way to a moment of genuine intimacy, punctuated by the softness of his touch and the warmth of his gaze. As he leans in, you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, his eyes half-closed, as if savoring the anticipation of the moment. As he pulls you in, you close your eyes, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile when his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and gentle, filled with the love that you share.

Dan Feng

Due to his position in the hierarchy of the Xianzhou, Dan Feng's desires are kept under a tight lid outside of his own control. His words and orders are listened to and acted upon, but when it comes to more personal wants, they are shut down entirely and removed. After all, their esteemed High Elder shouldn't be swayed by such material and emotional things. So when it comes to being selfish, Dan Feng will often imply his needs rather than outright stating them. Whether it's a simple request for your time over cups of steaming tea or a craving for the solace of your presence, it leaves you blindly guessing most of the time for what your dragon yearns for.

So naturally, as you walk ahead of him and the distance grows between you, you don't hear his faint coughs and subtle glances to catch your attention. He even makes a desperate attempt, reaching his hand out to catch your shoulder, but his hesitation catches him and his fingertips hover before you step away out of reach.

Thump Thump

He quickly reaches behind him to stop his tail from thumping against the wooden floors but it's too late. The noise makes you turn around, looking around the surrounding area before settling on him curiously. The slight tilt of your head as you silently question him if he heard the same sound as you did but all he can focus on is what that cute little action does to his heart. His grip on his tail tightens.

"High Elder? Is there something that is not to your standard?" you politely ask and he mentally huffs at your words. You're both alone, you don't need to address him like that anymore. A turquois scaly tail shifts out beneath his clothing, looping around your ankle, and with a good tug, he pulls you towards him.

"High Elder?" you asked, bewildered, as you look up to face an awkward Dan Feng. There's a fraction of a pout forming on his lips as he continues to stare elsewhere, his tail rhythmically tapping against your leg as if that will help you understand his hidden meaning. However, when you take too long, Dan Feng's eyes glance over to yours, the drift down to your lips, before snapping back up and away at the wall. He ignores how fast his cheeks heat up when you start giggling, even pressing your face into his chest to try and muffle it.

"Come here," you whisper, your hands trailing up from his shoulders to his cheeks as you pull him gently down. Even if he is the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he follows your command.

Blade

Given Blade's past and present circumstances, he hasn't had the time to sit down and explore more complicated relationships, let alone friendships, even with his loosely named comrades. His days are restless, and he rarely sleeps much when every time he closes his eyes, a familiar pair of ocean eyes stare back before searing pain over his body jolts him awake.

You find yourself in this strange limbo of understanding but feeling the weight of his absence. You aren't sure where you stand in Blade's hierarchy of concerns. Whether you're on that list entirely or not. There are nights when he stumbles into your bed, but you'll never wake up to him in the morning. There are moments when he'll abruptly flinch away from you before leaving you behind in the comfort of your home. The constant back-and-forth leaves you both yearning for him, yet spiteful that this one man has so much control over your emotions. Sometimes it feels like it isn't worth it anymore.

However, those difficult moments are balanced by Blade's sincere efforts. How he'll turn his back to you when he places his sword away, how he'll bring you things when he's been gone for an especially long time, and how sometimes it looks like he's looking at you and not someone else. They all stir warmth in your heart, and you think to yourself that next time, next time for sure, you'll tell him to never come back.

"Are you leaving?" you whisper behind him as he pulls his coat back onto his shoulders. The low beam of the streetlamps peeking through your window is the only source of light, but it's enough to see Blade nod. Although it's not like you need confirmation, you've been through this song and dance far too many times, "This is the las-".

In a sudden and unexpected twist of fate, Blade turns around and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. His hand comes up to press your head gently against his chest, so close that you can't see his expression.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the quietness of the night as he kisses the top of your head.

"I'll be back soon," is all he says. Those are his parting words before he disappears into the night and leaves you alone in your quiet house once again.

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thefudge · 2 months

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Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

#writing #smut tips #writing advice #smut #my thoughts #replies

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briefalpacashark · 1 month

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~Cowboys and Men~ Part One ~

Synopsis : The 141 have to play cowboys.

================================================

You sat along with the other boys of the 141 as you stared at Laswell. She had just delivered the news of your next mission.

“Well shit,” you grin widely. Why? The mission was right up your alley. You had personal experience practically having grown up in the thick of it. The boys, however. You were almost certain that none of them had even come close to anything like it.

The mission. Going undercover in an American rodeo.

“So you want us to play cowboy?” Price asked.

“That’s right. Long enough till you find this guy and bring him in,” she stated tapping her knuckle on a photo of the target. An older man with a grim surrounded by gray hair and a killer mustache.

“Y/N you'll be the one participating in the rodeo. The boys will be your team,” Laswell explained simply.

“Her team?” Jonny asked, jabbing his thumb at you. “Why can't I be the horse rider huh?” he asked.

“Can you ride a horse?” Laswell asked.

“Well no, canne be hard, can it?” his question had you chuckling.

“Its an invite only event, we've got a contact. You'll head out tomorrow to show him what you got. He'll slot you in where he can,” Laswell focused on you as she spoke.

“Sure thing boss,” you nodded.

“Honestly Laswell, I think I could do a pretty good job,” Jonny stated.

“The fact that you think a rodeo only involves horses proves how unqualified you are for it,” You stated.

“And you are?” Jonny asked.

“I grew up in the saddle of a horse, mate. You're looking at a genuine drover,” you gestured to your body with a smirk.

“The fuck is a drover?” Jonny asked the rest of the team. Gaz simply shrugged.

“Alright dismissed,” Laswell said.

You were quickly dispatched to the good old US of A. You were dropped off in a random field via helicopter. Your team walked up to two men on horseback. The one on the left was tall and buff with golden hair to die for. The other was slightly shorter and stubbier. But they both had one thing in common. They looked like genuine cowboys. Hats and everything.

“Howdy!” Jonny called with a terrible American accent.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Forgive him. He's hit his head a few too many times,” Price stated.

“That stunt his growth too?” The blond asked. Your laugh broke through your lips as Jonny’s smile fell.

“The one you just shut up is Soap, that's Gaz, Ghost. I’m Bravo and that’s Doc.” he pointed you all out the cowboys, tipping their hat’s to you.

“Ma’am, I heard you're the only one with experience in the saddle,” the smile the blond gave you was slightly flirtatious.

“Since I was two. Grew up on a cattle station over in Australia,” You stated walking up to him to give them both a firm handshake.

“How could you choose the military life over one in the saddle?” he asked.

“Plan to get back to it one day,” you said your attention being grabbed by his horse that tried to nibble your jacket.

“He's gorgeous. Mustang?” You asked, reaching up to brush his nose.

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded. “Care for a ride?” he asked with a wink. You chuckled at his obvious flirting attempt.

“Sorry mate. Not planning in hoping in any saddle that aint my own,” you said, giving the horse a pat.

“Alright, well, this is Sam, my name's Aurthur,” he stated.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Price stated spoke up drawing the attention off you.

“Pleasures all ours, Come on by the looks of you, it seems like we've got some work to do,” he stated.

“Work of what?” Gaz asked.

“To make you a lot cowboys,” he said with a grin.

First order of business, if you were to pass for cowboys, you had to look the part. Aurthur generously offered to take you all shopping. Your choice was quick, picked out for practicality. A simple light blue button up. A pair of denim jeans, a comfortable pair of boots and your old hat. You pulled the beat up looking thing out of your bag. It was your simple cattleman hat shape, in a dusty brown colour. It was scuffed and dirty, but it was yours. Setting it atop your head, you smiled at the familiar feeling. Slipping on the dark leather jacket, you fixed the collar before stepping out of the changing room.

“Look out,” Jonny stated from their allocated seats, all gathered in front of the changing rooms.

“So how do I look?” You asked, giving them a little pose.

“Like one hell of a rider,” Aurthur spoke up.

“So so,” Gaz tilted his hand back and forth.

“Oh yeah, let's see you do better,” you said tauntingly.

“Watch a master at work,” Gaz stated. You all waited for his outfit choice. When he stepped out you almost died of laughter. Tassels, tassels and fringe everywhere. On his head sat a bright red Tom Mix hat.

“What you don't think it's good?” he asked jokingly.

“You look like you'll fly away in a light breeze,” Jonny joked.

“Eat shit soap,” Gaz flipped him off.

“Nah, I'll show you how it's done,” Jonny spoke up. Yells of shock sounded from you all as he walked out in a pair of assless chaps. Only they weren't assless. In fact you saw a lot of ass due to the fact that Jonny only wore the chaps. Nothing else. He held a small bowler's hat in front of his privates as he pretended to act confused. He turned around, giving you a clear view of his rosy red cheeks.

“Fucken hell,” you chuckled, tipping your hat down to cover your gaze.

“You know, I don't think I put these on in the right order,” he stated. Even the Price cracked a chuckle or two.

“Might get a rash ridding a saddle like that,” Ghost stated.

“I like it,” you said. Jonny gave you a wink.

“Come on Captain,” Jonny encouraged Price when his ass was contained again.

Price walked out in a good pairing. A deep red button up, a pair of jeans, some lovely light brown boots, a light brown fleece jacket and a white brick shaped hat.

“Captain my captain,” You whistled.

“Where did you find that fashion sense cap?” Ghost asked.

“Quiet you,” Price warned playfully.

“You know those videos where a baby sees their dad with their beard shaved for the first time and they just break out crying,” You asked. Jonny hummed in acknowledgment.

“I feel like that with that hat he's wearing,” you whispered. Jonny chuckled.

“Alright Ghost your turn,” Jonny said slapping Ghost shoulder. Ghost slowly moved his eyes from the captain to Jonny daring him to hit him again.

“Alright, be that way grumpy,” Jonny muttered. “Guess it's my turn again,” he stated. With your help, Jonny walked out in a tight black long sleeve shirt, a denim jacket and jeans. Black boots and a brown rolled brim with a puncher crown. He looked alright apart from the obviously large belt buckle he wore. A picture of a bulls head engraved on it.

“Compensating?” you asked, nodding to the buckle, getting a bird flipped to you.

“At least his ass is covered this time,” Ghost grumbled. Gaz tried again, deciding on a cowboy version of a lumberjack. Plated shirt with a vest jacket, a dark blue pair of jenes and a black version of his original hat.

“Careful Gaz, that shirt looks a little tight,” Jonny called.

“That's the point,” Gaz stated with a smirk flexing his biceps.

“They can try all they want. The look of a cowboy is something that comes naturally. A look, ma’am that if you'll let me say looks extremely good on you,” Arthur leaned down to whisper to you. You smirked, shrugging.

“I don't know, I think they're pulling it off,” you stated. You chuckled as Gaz tried to perform his best cowboy walk. Hand on his belt and slaughtering forward before making a gun motion with his hand. And Jonny, who pretended to slow motion, to doge said bullets.

“Yeah sure,” Arthur muttered, making you chuckle harder. As you continued to watch Gaz and Jonny make a fool of themselves, you failed to notice a certain pair of eyes set on you.

“Careful Lieutenant, you glare any harder and he might just get the message,” Price smirked as he saw the slightly pissed expression hidden behind the skull mask.

“Don't know what you mean, sir,” Ghost grumbled before walking away.

Noticing Ghost's missing presence, you went to look for him, finding him in front of the many hats on display.

“Having trouble choosing?” You asked, walking up to him.

“Any pointers?” he asked.

“Can't help you there. This was my uncle's hat. He lost it when I won a bet,” you said.

“But,” you trailed off, your eyes searching through the hats. You smiled, reaching out to grab one.

“Yeah, this one,” you said, placing it on his head. It was low and pinched a grayish black.

“Yeah, that suits you,” you stated simply with a satisfied nod before walking away.

When you all returned to the ranch, Simon changed into his outfit. Black jeans, dark brown boots, a black leather jacket and dark grey button up. On his head sat the hat you chose, and he still wore his skull balaclava.

“Well hello handsome,” Jonny called as he walked out to you.

“Zip it Mc’tavish,” he grumbled. Jonny chuckled as he walked up to you. In the pen Arthur walked out a horse already saddled up. Spotting other ranchers gathering round to watch with eager grins, you quickly assessed what was happening. It was a bucking horse, or at least one they were trying to break.

“Alright, lesson one of being a cowboy. Staying on a horse that doesn't want you to stay on,” Arthur stated with a wide grin.

“Any volunteers?” he asked. You chuckled, shaking your head as Jonny raised his hand eagerly.

“Love the spirit scots, man. This here is Bessy,” Arthur said, gesturing him forward. You whipped your mouth as Jonny confidently made his way into the pen.

“Ello Bessy,” he smirked.

“I'd say goodbye to your balls now Soap, while you have the chance,” you called out to him.

“Ah, away with ye. I'll be fine,” Jonny waved you off.

“He's gonna eat shit isn't he?” Ghost asked folding his arms over his chest.

“All five courses of it,” you chuckled, pulling yourself up to sit on the railings.

“He has medical cover right?” you asked Price that only shock his head at his soldier stupidity.

“Alright Soap. hold on tight,” After Arthur gave him a basic run down and when Jonny was sat comfortable in the saddle did he stepped back.

“You're gonna set a timer, wanna make sure there is proof when I stay on longer than those bastards,” Jonny nodded back to you all, giving you a wide confident grin as the horse started to pad at the ground.

“Sure thing, champ,” Arthur grinned. “Go on, give her a kick,” he suggested casually, taking a few cautious steps back.

“What like this?” Jonny asked, kicking his heels gently into her sides.

You knew pigs couldn't fly, but Jonny sure could. One buck had the poor man was out of the saddle onto the horses ass, then the second buck had the man cartwheeling through the air before landing flat on his ass his legs split in front of him. You and Gaz was practically dying of laughter as Jonny rolled around in pain holding his manly jewels. After Jonny’s poor first display, the ranchers started to pass around bets.

“Who's next?” Arthur asked, turning to you lot.

Gaz sat on the back of Bessy looking like he was about to shit himself.

“Ok what do I do?” he asked shakily.

“Hold on,” Arthur stated simply.

“I know that, but I don't know the first thing about horses. Do do I pat it?” he asked.

“Sure, it probably won't do you any good though,” Arthur shrugged walking back.

“Come on Gaz,” you called encouragingly.

“I changed my mind, I want to get down,” Gaz stated. As he shifted his weight in the saddle, Bessy fell into a fit. Bucking and kicking like crazy. Gaz lasted about four seconds before he was bucked off.

“This is bullshit,” Gaz grumbled, limping back to you trying to remove the dirt from his mouth.

“Are the betting on us?” Jonny asked nodding to the growing group.

“There ranchers, this is probably the best entertainment they've had all week,” you stated.

“Yeah well they should stop,” Gaz grumbled.

“Why? They're actually betting in your favor,” you lied.

“Really?” he asked with a small grin of hope.

“No,” you chuckled, shaking your head, Gaz's smile instantly falling.

“Your acting way too high and mighty or this,” Gaz stated.

“I think I'm acting the right amount of high and mighty for my skills,” You shrugged.

“Skills we haven't seen yet,” Gaz grumbled.

“I don't need to prove anything,” you shrugged.

“Well, if ye so confident in yourself lass. How bout a wee little bet?” Jonny asked.

“Depends on what it is,” you smirked. With the smirk Jonny already knew you accepted the bet.

“If anyone of us can last longer than you, you owe us all a week of sick leave,” Jonny put the offer forward. In the military you need a doctor's note or your medic's permission to have a sick day. Which was practically impossible to get. You don't abuse your power but you didn't put up with their bullshit either. So they only ever got sick leave when they were actually sick. And not a man cold either, they had to actually be sick.

“And what do I get?” you asked.

“Bragging rights?” Jonny suggested.

“I'll settle for a picture of you in the outfit you rocked back at the shop,” you stated, pointing to him. Jonny grinned widely.

“Deal,” he said as you too shook on it.

“You ready, boss?” Jonny asked, turning to Price.

“A week of sick leave, you said?” he asked, debating if he wanted to be a part of your shenanigans.

“Yes sir,” you nodded.

“Right,” he muttered, pushing his hat further down on his head before slipping in the coral and shaking his jacket off his shoulders.

You had to give it to Price, he was pretty good. And he looked like he stepped right out of a cow boy movie. The mustache and the fit was just perfect. You sucked in a breath as he was thrown from the horse. Impressed cheers came from the others. He lasted almost ten seconds.

“Ghost?” Jonny suggested.

“I prefer to keep my balls unpopped,” Ghost grumbled.

“Guess that's me then,” You spoke up. Walking up to Bessy you smiled brushing her nose before walking round her to where Arthur stood.

“Need a hand?” he offered.

“Nah mate,” you said effortlessly, swinging yourself up onto the saddle and taking the reins in hand. The familiar creak of the leather saddle and the ruff feel of the reins was welcoming. You settled into the back of the saddle, leaning back slightly. You pressed your hat down far enough down your forehead that the only thing you saw was your hands and the horse's shoulder blades.

“Alright, lets fucking do this,” you whispered before gently kicking her. You leaned back as far as you could and pulled the reins tight as she bucked wildly. Your body was jerked about left and right back and forth, yet you held on. The boys had to admit they were impressed. The ranchers cheered as the seconds drew on. As you hit the thirty second mark you swore as the horse slammed up against the side of the railings. To avoid you leg getting crushed you lumped off, the force sending you flying over the fence, right into Arthur who just happened to be sitting stop it. The two of you hit the ground in a cloud of dust. A relatively soft fall for you due to you landing on the cowboy.

“Fuck you alright?” You asked as you quickly hopped off the poor man.

“Look at that, falling for you already,” he groaned, painfully accepting your hand to help him up.

“That line usually work?” you asked with a small smile. You had to admit he was kinda cute.

“Well I don't usually have pretty women tackling me off the fence but here we are,” he said. You chuckled, shaking your head picking up your hat.

“How long was that Jonny!?” You yelled across the coral.

“Too fucking long!” he yelled back. You grinned smugly making your way back over to the boys.

Gaz and Jonny were adamant on getting those sick days. Price opted in for a few more tries, coming only four seconds from your record before he called it quits.

“Not gonna have a go Ghost?” you asked nudging his side.

“Risk getting hurt before the mission, not likely,” he stated as you watched Jonny narrowly avoid a broken bone.

“Fair enough,” you muttered. The boys could not beat your best. With bruised bodies and prides you all retired to your a few spar rooms in the bunkhouse.

The next morning, you all gathered before dawn. Arthur said you were gonna learn how to ride. The boys walking a bit slower than they usually would. You were all assigned horses. Ghost and Price and Gaz were going well after some instruction. And Jonny. Well let's just say he wasn't built to ride horses. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. Loud laughs sounded as the horse started to trot slightly, sending your little scotsman's bouncing rapidly in his saddle.

“Fu-Uck En H-EL-LL,” he said through bounces as his head bobbled around. You rode up to him gently pulling on the rains to get the horse to slow down.

“Come on Mate. your ancestors road these guys into battle,” You said.

“Nah, these are American horses. If it was a scottish horse I would be grand,” he stated definitely. Amused by his logic, you just shook your head. To your surprise, Simon pulled up on the other side of Jonny. “Having a bit of trouble there?” Ghost asked smuggle. “Fuck Ye LT,” Jonny grunted, trying to glare only for him to slid sideways in the saddle. You reached out holding his jacket to keep him steady as he readjusted. Ghost smirked before trotting forward. You rode up to his side looking over his posture, one hand resting on his thigh, the other holding both the reins.

“You’ve done this before,” you stated.

“When I was a kid,” he muttered.

“It shows, You're a natural,” you said.

“Not as good as you,” he said.

“Oh stop it, you'll make me blush,” you grinned. He glanced over at your smile, grunting in response.

“So this is your dream, huh?” he asked. Your grin turned into a fond smile.

“Yeah. I want a nice plot of land in the tablelands,” you stated.

“Table lands?” Ghost asked.

“I'll admit you guys have some nice green pastures in England. But the tablelands. Man, it's something different altogether. Rolling green hills right out of a picture book. It's high up, lots of rain, and rainforests. Fog will roll over the hills in the cold mornings and arvos. I'll have five horses, shit ton of chickens and cows. Maybe a goat or two,” your shrugged. “Two dogs. One working kelpie and and little staffy,” you continued.

“A big old cottage that I built myself. Oh, it's gotta have a basement. Definitely a secret passage. Maybe a fake skeleton chucked in there.” your words had Simon smiling as his eyes settled on you. Settled on the sparkle of your eyes as you described it all.

“Oh and there will be this big ol tree. If I have a family I'll string it up with fairy lights and lanterns. I'll invite you boys round for week long adventures. Big ol fire place next to it,” you reminisce of a life that you possibly might never get to live. After all, your job wasn't necessarily safe.

“Oh so I’m a part of this future huh?” he asked. The instant your gaze turned to him he realized what he said. His face flushed as your smile became impossibly brighter.

“Of course,” you stated simply. Only when you did think of all those things you left out one key part. Whenever you thought about your future, the annoying prick in front of you would pop into the frame. Helping you build the cottage. Putting one of his masks on the fake skeletons. Him in the tree hanging up the lights. Him sitting next to you around the roaring fire. Clearing his throat his face flushed deeply as he looked back to the path in front of you. You didn't see the flush though. You simply saw him avoiding your gaze. For a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He thought it was the only explanation for his rapid heartbeat.

“Were going for a run care to join?” Arthur called back to you.

“Sure,” you called back.

“So you ready to show me just how good you are?” You leaned over to Ghost with a taunting

“Perhaps,” he grunted.

“First one to the tree up on that ridge,” you suggested.

“Are we betting anything?” he asked.

“Bragging rights?” you shrugged. “On three?” you suggested.

“Alright, three,” he stated kicking his horse into a gallop. An excited grin stretched across your face as you did the same. The cantering group let out exclamations of surprise as you two zoomed past them in a full gallop. Even with his headstart you quickly caught up to him. Riding would forever feel different to everything in your life. It felt like flying, but so much more magical. As you were neck and neck you looked over to Ghost who looked to you. With a wink, you dropped the reins, opening your arms out as the horse pulled forward. You won by just an inch.

The next day it was game time. You were strapped up and dressed up for your rodeo. You left a little earlier than the boys. You were hanging around beer in hand playing the part as Arthur introduced you to a few people. Chucking your watch you glanced at the time.

“They should be here by now,” you muttered.

“Speak of the devils,” Arthur muttered nodding behind you. A low whistle left your lips as you took them in.

As everyone took them in. Women, buckle bunnies and men had their eyes set on the group. They looked like a master piece of hot manliness. And you had to admit they looked good enough to have anyone's panties dropped with just a word. There boots kicking up dust as they strutted through the crowd. You swore the music was perfect of their entrance, looking like a scene out of a movie.

“Boys,” you nodded to them as they approached.

“Anna,” Price nodded to you. Your cover name for the mission.

“Come on, I've got to introduce you to someone,” Arthur stated beckoning you all over. You sucked in a small breath as he took you all to the target.

“Tommy,” Arthur greeted the man like old friends.

“Arthur, how are you, my boy?” he asked. He was an older man, a true cowboy.

“Good Good,” Arthur nodded as they embraced.

“So you're the one Arthurs has been speaking about. You should know outsiders aren't usually welcome here,” the target stated as he turned to you.

“What scared of the challenge?” you asked with a teasing smile. The man paused a beat before breaking out into laughter.

“She's a spunk fire all right. Name’s Tom, everyone calls me Tommy,” he greeted holding his hand out to you.

“Anna,” you introduced yourself.

“Anna, you dont look like an Anna,” he said.

“Oh yeah, what do I look like?” you asked.

“Some real classy name. Like Evangeline or somethin,” he stated.

“Well, you certainly look like a Tommy,” you said.

“Why thank you ma’am,” he tipped his hat to you.

“And who are these fellas?” he asked turning to the boys.

“I'm her manager, Cole,” Price introduced himself. “These boys are on the team,” he stated, pointing to the rest who gave nods.

“I see, well fellas I'll see you out there,” he stated giving you another nod before walking off.

“So we grabbing him?” Jonny asked.

“To many people here,” Price mumbled.

“After the main event you'll have your chance, that's when he goes home,” Arthur said. You nodded, glancing around you. Fancy profession buckers were walking all round you.

“Nervous Darling?” Arthur asked. The boys gaze snapped to him, some pissed of some surprised. The way American men say darling is just something different.

“I'm about to strap myself to a state of the art bucking horse. Of corse im fucking nervous,” you muttered.

“Don't worry. Come on, there are some other events before. Let's get you warmed up,” he stated. You needed to keep your mind occupied, so you agreed. Steer wrestling and roping was your go to. You didn't place first in anything but you didn't do too bad. The boys looked at you in a different light as you rode beside a young bull, jumping off your horse to wrestle it to the ground, flipping it over and tying its legs up.

“God damn,” Jonny whispered as you stood to your feet holding your hands in the air.

“She's good, really good,” Arthur stated as he stood by the boys.

“That's our girl,” Price stated simply.

“So, what are you lot to her?” he asked.

“What?” Gaz asked squinting at the man.

“You lot seem real close. I know you're a team but I don't want to step on anyone's toes, I'm a gentle man like that,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean step on anyone's toes?” Price asked, his arms folding over his chest taking on the protective dad stance.

“Look if she's spoken for I'll back off. But I don't see no ring, and she calls you all by name. No pet names,” Arthur trailed off before turning to Ghost.

“So I guess im asking what are you to her,” the question was pointed at Ghost the boys quickly catching on. Ghost turned fully to him tucking his hand under his arm pits where his guns sat, hidden by his jacket. Although he made a point to let the smooth metal peek out.

“I'm the guy that fucks you up seven ways to Sunday if you hurt her,” his voice was deathly low, shaking Arthur up a bit. Yet it was Simon's glare that had the man really scared.

But he also got the answer he wanted.

“So she's available?” Arthur pointed out with a grin.

================================================

=Cowboys and Men = Part Two here=

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~COD Master List Here~

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#141 x reader #cod 141 #cod ghost #141 x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod

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staliaqueen · 12 days

Text

I rewatched The Avatar and the Fire Lord a few days ago, and god, what a good episode. Revealing that Zuko is a descendant of both Sozin and Roku was a genius move (and that's not even getting into the Zuko/Aang parallels of it all). But there's something the show doesn't seem to think of, and that I haven't seen anyone in the fandom discuss either — the fact that Zuko isn't the only one descendant from both these men. Azula is, too.

The conclusion of this story that Iroh presents to Zuko at the end of the episode is that he alone — because of his lineage from both men the war was started from — is uniquely capable of cleansing the sins of his family and the fire nation and bringing peace to the world. But, the thing is, there's two sides of this conflict, and therefor two sides to its legacy. The external and the personal. The legacy of the external is the war, but the legacy of the personal is the sibling rivalries that kept repeating through generations of the royal family.

Though Roku and Sozin were not actually related, they were childhood friends as close as siblings and fucking shared a birthday, so the symbolism works. We know very little about Azulon's childhood or if he even had any direct sibling rivalries like this at all, but from what I can find on his wiki page, we know that Sozin favoured him over "other family" (I'm assuming his siblings). What we know very well, however, is what happened in the next generation between Iroh and Ozai. We know Azulon favoured Iroh over Ozai, and that this likely is the initial source of their hatred for each other, which resulted in perhaps the worst sibling rivalry of them all (what with the indirect patricide and throne stealing).

Then we go on to Zuko and Azula, whose upbringing kept going in the same patterns, but the key difference is them being the first ones to both be descendant from the men who started it all. If Zuko having this lineage makes him uniquely capable of ending the cycle of war in his country and restoring balance to the world, shouldn't that mean that both he and Azula having this lineage makes them uniquely capable of ending the cycle of brutal sibling rivalries and restoring balance to their family?

This conclusion I've presented seems to fit perfectly with the lesson Aang draws from the same story as well:

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves that anyone's capable of great good and great evil. Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance."

I know this is supposed to be foreshadowing to Aang refusing to kill Ozai later, but I can't help but think it's even more applicable to fourteen year old Azula. It's really so ironic that the show runners thought Azula deserved what she got when their own show seems to be telling them that Zuko mending his relationship with her is what he ultimately should've done.

But, then again... that does sort of make her the perfect tragedy.

#meta #azula #princess azula #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar meta #avatar the last airbender meta #atla meta #uncle iroh #fire lord ozai #fire lord azulon #fire lord sozin #avatar roku #i LOVE tragic siblings have i mentioned this before?#also can't wait for this either to get 0 notes or invite a bunch of brain dead angry replies #it's pretty much either or for me in this fandom

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neonovember · 26 days

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OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it.

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-”

“No, no I want this” You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things”

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 10 months

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That part combined with a truly disturbing drawing of a sort of lizard-man presented as a how dinosaurs might look today if they "survived and continued evolving" make for an amusing read in the modern day.

I need someone to show me a picture of these lizard men now actually.

oh there are pictures

it is one of the most anthropocentric things I've ever fucking seen and I can't put it better than my 6 year old self looking at these things:

"why would dinosaurs become people????" (quote from my journal)

#dinosauroid #anthropocentrism

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room-surprise · 2 months

Text

Addendum to Dungeon Meshi Age Calculations, and Thistle's age estimate...

This is sort of a sequel to two posts of mine, How to Calculate Comparative Ages of DM Characters and How Old Is Thistle?

I've seen some people claim that the age scale between elves and tall-men where elves age 5 times slower than tall-men can't be used accurately for elves that are very young or very old. I've also seen people claim that the half-foot age modifier is wrong.

I'm not a mathematician, but so far I have not seen any actual evidence that the 5:1 scale doesn't work, and a good amount of proof that it does, and I think the confusion about half-foot aging is a translation issue.

Please keep in mind, information about Marcille's age does not apply to any of this, because [SPOILERS].

WHAT ABOUT VERY YOUNG ELVES?

Here's something we know about the babies from the different races, which comes from Ryoko Kui's blog:

1 year old elven, dwarven and gnomish babies can only lay on their backs. Tall-man and half-foot 1 year olds can both stand, though the tall-man is not as good at it as the half-foot.

This lines up with real-world development milestones, human children can usually stand on their own somewhere between 9 to 12 months. Half-foots age faster than tall-men, so it makes sense that the half-foot would look more balanced and steady while standing.

A 2 year old elven baby has just gained the ability to sit up, while the babies of other races are walking or running. Normal human babies can sit up with help at around 5 months.

2 divided by 5 equals 0.4, that's 40%, and 40% of one year equals 4.8666666 months. That's 5 months.

I think it's very likely Kui herself is using the 5:1 ratio in order to calculate her elven ages in order to get this very specific 5 month developmental milestone to line up this way. So we can confirm that any elf over the age of 2 years old should have an age that is calculable with the 5:1 ratio. I also think it's not crazy to assume Kui may be using the numbers I calculated in my age post to work out other character's ages as well, since she's clearly doing it for the elves.

LET'S TEST IT WITH HALF-FOOTS

Human children learn to run between 18 and 24 months, so around 2 years old, like the chart shows us. 2 years divided by the half-foot age ratio (1.1428571429) equals 175% because they grow faster than tall-men.

175% of 2 years is 1277.5 days... Which is 3.5 years. So a 2 year old half-foot has the maturity of a 3.5 years old human child. 3 years old is when human children are expected to run and jump easily, and climb stairs without help.

That sounds about right to me, since the half-foot child in the drawing looks like they can confidently run around without balance issues. One foot is off the ground, and their arms are pulled in closer to the body than the tall-man child's arms.

Meanwhile the tall-man child is more unsteady, both feet firmly planted, standing with their arms held out as far as they can go to help with balance.

DOESN'T 29=50 FOR HALF-FOOTS?

Kui says that Chilchuck would be about 50 if he were a modern day human (which he isn't, he's a medieval half-foot), and then she says that half-foots in the time of Dungeon Meshi only live to be about 50 years old on average.

I'm pretty sure she's telling us that if Chilchuck were a human in our world, he'd be past middle-aged, and then for contrast, she tells us that most half-foots in Chilchuck's world die by age 50. Not that Chilchuck's 29 years is equivalent to a 50 year old modern human.

Chilchuck is 29 years old, and he had his first child at age 13. The average age of death for half-foots is 50, then that means middle-aged for a half-foot is 25.

Chilchuck is 4 years older than that, which makes Chilchuck past middle-aged. It does not make him developmentally the same as a 50 year old modern human though.

Using the numbers I've worked out, a half-foot would be developmentally 50 years old when they're 44.

Kui says that although Chilchuck wants to retire from going into the dungeons, if he did, it would be premature... Just like it would be premature for a 33 year old to retire.

In the real world retirement ages are connected to the average age of death. As that number goes up, so does retirement age. Because modern humans live until around 72, as a global average, retirement age is somewhere in their 60s.

So since half-foots average lifespan is 50, a normal age for Chilchuck to retire would be in his 40s.

WHAT ABOUT OLD ELVES?

The average age of death for tall-men is 60, however we know that tall-men can live into their 80s because Marcille's father did.

The average age of death for elves is 400, but they can live up to 500 years.

There's no reason to think that DM tall-men aren't like real world humans, and can't live into their 100's if they are lucky and wealthy enough. Even in the real medieval period, some people lived into their early 100's.

The thing that makes average death ages low in real life is usually issues like high infant mortality, starvation, war, lack of medical care, and lack of sanitation.

In the real medieval period, the average age of death was 30 not because people dropped dead at 30, but because SO MANY children died young that it pulled down the average. In medieval times, if you managed to live to 25, you had an average of 23 more years of life ahead of you, which is 48 years old.

I think Kui raised the average death age to 60 for tall-men to account for the fact that even tall-men have access to more advanced medicine and healing magic in DM, so infant mortality isn't as high and the adults live more than a decade longer.

The elves naturally have a longer lifespan since they live 5 times slower than tall-men. However they also probably have a far more advanced society than any of the other races in Dungeon Meshi. Fleki calls the Eastern Continent a "primitive land", and it's mostly populated by dwarves, gnomes and tall-men.

If elven culture was developmentally the same as tall-man culture, I bet elves would only live to about 300, which would be 60 for them, maturity wise.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

80x5 is 400. That seems correct to me, a 400 year old elf would be considered elderly and getting close to the end of their life. An 80 year old tall-man would be considered VERY old, having lived past average expectations... But those expectations, as I said before, are based on poor living conditions, not biological certainty. 100x5 is 500, so the two maximum ages (100 and 500) also line up when you use the 5:1 ratio.

POSSIBLE MAXIMUM AGES FOR OTHER RACES

Using the same math, if gnomes and dwarves had the same culture as tall-men, they'd only live to be 150-ish instead of 240/200...

This is only a theory, but dwarvish and gnomish maximum possible ages should probably be around 250, if you multiply their age modifier (2.5) x100 like I did with the elves.

The current difference between their average age of death is probably attributable to lifestyle and cultural differences (gnomes use a lot more magic, and so they live longer).

Then, just to do the rest of the races:

Half-foots and orcs theoretical maximum age is 88. Ogres theoretical maximum age is 94. Kobold theoretical maximum age is 81.

Keep in mind, these numbers are based on the idea that "around 100 years old" is the oldest a human being can get. The oldest human to ever live survived until they were 122 years old... But obviously that is rare, and happened in the modern era.

Point is, there's wiggle room at the top end of the age limit, for some of the races that may be a matter of extra days or months, for others it could be an extra decade or two. But I'm using 100 for simplicity's sake.

Sorry for the long post! I hope this answers people's questions, and if I messed something up let me know!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #theories #dungeon meshi and aging part 2 #chilchuck #chilchuck tims

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daphnasworld · 2 months

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I have enough of those fucking racist "it's just anti-zionism, I'm not antisemitic or racist" assholes.

If you would only have a problem with Israels politics, that would be fine. Nothing wrong with that. But if people have to be afraid in fucking europe or america to openly show that they are jewish, to visit a Synagoge, to speak hebrew or to tell you that they or their parents were born in Israel, than that is not just because of critique of a countries political decisions - it's because of racism and antisemitism.

If you only had a problem with Israels politics you wouldn't get angry upon hearing someone speak hebrew. A moslem palestinian, born in the west bank now living in germany, wouldn't have to be afraid to speak hebrew on german streets. Yes, you heard that right. I know a moslem palestinian that now lives in germany. He and his siblings speak multiple languages, one of them being hebrew. The language they know who the least people here in germany understand is hebrew. So when he and his siblings are outside and want to talk about something without people understanding them, they talk to each other in hebrew. They can't talk to each other in hebrew anymore since october 7th, because so called pro-palestinians would start to harass and attack them on open street, calling them all sorts of names (zionist, nethanyahoe, bitch, murderer,...) and claim that they support genocide. Yes, they would literally attack actual palestinians, whose parents still live in the west bank, simply for speaking hebrew. (Btw they regularily visit their family there. They fly to Israel, rent a car and then drive to the westbank. They say they never had a problem with the idf, only the (illegal) settlers in the westbank were problematic. ).

If you are only against a countries politics than you won't feel the need to erase a whole religious group. If you feel the need to claim that Jesus was palestinian instead of saying that he had been a judean jew you are erasing jews. If you feel the need to put a palestinian sticker over the star of david that is seen on Amy Winehouse statue in camden market you are erasing jews (yes, if you haven't heard: Amy Winehouse, a JEWISH woman, has a statue of her on camden market. Her statue is wearing a necklace with a star of david. The star of david may be on the israeli flag, but it is also a kind of religious symbol for the jews. So she - as the statue - isn't wearing it as a symbol for Israel, but as a symbol for judaism. And someone put a palestine sticker over the star of david. Which makes it antisemitic, not anti-zionist).

If you feel the need to draw or repost pictures of superman or captain america ripping the israeli flag or wearing the palestinian flag while knowing that both characters had been created by jewish men and as symbols against the Nazis AND antisemitism, than that too is a form of erasure of jews (And also blatantly disrespectful. If you don't think that superman or captain america would have immediately tried to save the israeli hostages, than you really don't know these characters).

And how could you be anything but racist when you claim that black people can't be jewish or israeli just because of the color of their skin?!

And if you were for an actual ceasefire, than you would also be angry at hamas for repeatedly rejecting ceasefire deals made by Israel and egypt. You would be angry at hamas for breaking the ceasefire on october 7th. If you only ever look at israel while demanding a ceasefire, you are not actually demanding a ceasefire. A ceasefire would mean that everyone would have to stop shooting. What you are demanding is for Israel to cease fire, while Hamas is allowed to continue to shoot rockets. That is in fact racist and antisemitic (looking at you Mark Ruffalo). Also I don't think that demanding the release of hostages - including children! - is too much. If you believe that the demand of the release of an one year old or an 18 year old is too much, than I don't believe that you actually care for one single child in Gaza.

If you are saying that Hitler was right or are okay with your friends saying that, than how can you be anything else but a racist? Everyone knows that Hitler and the Nazis were huge racists. Those are facts. So by logic if you think they were right than you think that racism is right. Than you think that antisemitism is right.

And yes, claiming that all Israelis are settlers or colonizers or white is racist and antisemitic. Claiming that jews should "go back to europe" is racist and antisemitic. Claiming that Israel isn't a real country is just stupid. If you have to even change other nations or peoples history simply so that your arguments against Israel are "valid" than you are a racist and an antisemite and an idiot.

Yes, claiming you don't trust jews in general is antisemitic and racist.

Yes, claiming that there are no civilians in Israel is racist, antisemitic and stupid. What else can a fucking newborn be?!

If you are not a racist and not an antisemite, then people wouldn't have to be afraid to tell you that they are jews. People then wouldn't have to be afraid of wearing a kippah or a necklace with the star of david on it. They wouldn't have to be afraid of speaking hebrew. They wouldn't have to be afraid of booking a fucking hotel room when they have a jewish sounding name or an israeli passport.

Stop pretending to be against racism if you have no problem with jews being afraid simply because they are jewish.

Stop pretending to be a good person if you enjoy someone being afraid because they are jewish.

Stop pretending.

Finally start being the good person you claim to be.

#antisemitism #i/p #i stand with israel #racism #stop racism #amy winehouse #captain america #superman #stan lee #jerry siegel #joe shuster #joe simon #jack kirby

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zekie78 · 4 months

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Platonic Yandere Strawhats finding a abandoned child and taking them in

𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿

You were drifting, you were cold and you only asked in a low voice where your parents were, this was just going to be a normal day ... A normal fishing

This day was a sunny day, your father told you that they were going fishing just beyond the reef, as there was a big herd of fish coming in for the season, so you, your mother and father ventured out to sea, beyond the reef. Everything was fine until suddenly a storm suddenly caught you (the changing weather of the Grand Line).Since your family were fishermen for obvious reasons from an early age, you were taught to swim and fish.

So in the blink of an eye you were in a storm and your boat, being very small, only needed a wave to hit it and break it, you felt from one second to another the water, one second more your mother screaming, your father under water and the other .... You were alone

But while you were crying not seeing your parents you saw in the distance a boat approaching, you couldn't distinguish which boat it was because of the storm so you just tried to scream for help and fell down in a faint.Again and again you heard your mother's scream , your father under the water .... And the boat was like a loop everything was going on until suddenly you woke up.

All of a sudden you saw that you were in a bed , you looked around and saw things that would belong to a doctor , you sat on the bed and even with the sound of the sea raging in your ears , you pressed the sheet but everything would pass when you heard that the door y open and Into a "Racoon?"

Then - "I'm not a raccoon, I'm a reindeer" from the already located by Chooper entrel to see you, from one moment to another 9 more people were in the room, several men, a couple of women, a skeleton and a very large man and metal. That's when they began to introduce themselves and ask you what had happened and why they had found you on the high seas before answering, you started to cry because you remembered once again the accident and the storm, which everyone noticed but you felt hands coming out of god knows where and started to wipe away your tears. After that you introduced yourself as "Y/N" and you were 10 years old. Even after that explanation you were fed by perhaps the best cook, the man Brook played the most energetic tunes to get you out of your depression.

And so began your life with the straw hats Luffy is like your big brother and you always played with him , Ussop and Chooper you liked his attitude but there were times when he played with your cheeks , squeezed them and hugged you after that.

Zoro on the other hand was Tough as he would always come in but for strange reason he wanted you there with him or watching him or teaching you some moves, all well and good. But the weird thing is when you were sitting and before he took his nap, he would take you and sit you on his lap and hug you like a cuddly toy.

With Ussop you always knew he was lying, but sometimes he would start to say some words that you didn't like -" I can't believe that in a moment you would want to leave, without us you wouldn't be able to come".

Nami well, at the age of 10 years old you already owed more than 10 thousand berry and you didn't know why "-Ransom fee, fee but membership, not because you are a kid you are saved"- that changed when you were next to her drawing whatever, while she was on her maps but sometimes she looked at you and asked her to be the one to keep your drawings which she didn't do and took it with her. Robin so that it would not be seen as an attempt to leave the ship and it shows in the drawings.

With Brook you only hung out with him when you were feeling depressed and asked him to play you a song to relax you. Franky is the one you had the most fun with, his encouragement, that he always wanted to get you involved in his work made you smile and so on. Robin, with her you got on a maternal side , it was her who was going to wake you up for tomorrow and it was her who sent you to sleep..... The strange thing is that she always wants to see your drawings, to know what you think and you always know that she is watching you because you want to be alone and you see an eye on the wall, to know what you are going to do, everything about you, something that was supported by the captain.Since they all knew one thing By a miracle they got that gift, tender, small, perfect influencer How would you let go of your adorable child

#yandere strawhats #strawhats x reader #Yandere one piece #straw hats x reader #Mugiwaras

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popop-maru · 4 months

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There's this idea I've seen around occasionally, and it always baffles me, that participating in fandom for adult animation is somehow cringe or lesser than participating in fandom for anime/manga, video games, live action shows, or even cartoons made for kids. I don't understand it at all.

And when I say "participating in fandom" I mean people who draw Family Guy fanart, people who write South Park fanfic, people who ship Beavis and Butthead, and yes, even people who draw Marge Simpson as an e-girl or whatever.

I don't understand why there's this need by people to point out "man, it's CRAZY and WACKY and WEIRD that you're investing time into this media I don't consume!" Like thanks? Go back to talking about your silly thing and leave people alone.

Everyone has a right to engage in/find MEANING in media, whether you think it's the "wrong kind" or not. A show with dick jokes and crude, edgy humor can still have a lasting impact on the people who make it a part of their weekly routine to sit down and watch the new episodes, or even just revisit old ones when they're down.

I'm just saying that if you can sit down and form an emotional attachment to Lucky Star, an animated comedy full of references to its countries media and culture, I don't see why someone can't form an emotional attachment to something like Aqua Teen Hunger Force, an animated comedy full of references to its countries media and culture.

Sometimes people appreciate a piece of Media Produce beyond watching funny moments compilations on YouTube, and that's normal and fine and healthy. Draw Frylock and Master Shake kissing, it's okay. Write about Kenny and Butters as middle aged men in love. Draw Beavis and Butthead yaoi. Write Clone High yuri. Be free.

#family guy #south park #aqua teen hunger force #athf #beavis and butthead #metalocalypse #clone high #american dad #smiling friends #just tagging a bunch of adult animation bc I do think this is important ig #why is it fans of stuff like idk Owl House are more normalized than fans of idk Moral Orel

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shepscapades · 4 months

Note

*rotates dbhc!Xisuma and Doc in my head*

I'm sorry but I absolutely lose my mind over them ( I have literally no one who I could ramble about this to and I need to get it out). I want to analyse stuff, so let me just:

*breathes in*

It's visible that they are good friends and have been since the time when Doc deviated, research partners doing... research? Or whatever researchers do *shrugs*.

But there's one thing to it, X created Doc and most of other androids. He understands what is deviation because Doc explained it to him but his friend is still an android after all. We also know that X always calls Doc "Docm" but in previous comic he calls him "Doc" and it is stated that it's the first time he ever called him that. In which moment he calls him that? In the moment when he realises that Doc is more human than android now, I may be delusional about this all but I just feel like: the moment when he sees Etho overpower Doc, shove him and break him and stuff, Xisuma sees that Doc isn't a fearless machine but a someone, a human, he got overpowered by Etho and suffered consequences, he felt fear like a human not a machine. Also he lost his arm because he was trying to stop Etho from hurting X as we see in the second part of the comic, which only adds to that. So, this is the moment where X fully realises that he means something to Doc, not as a creator, but as a friend, and that's why for the rest of the comic he constantly makes sure if his partner is alright by talking to him, glancing at him. You know stuff. He grew closer and closer to Doc as time passed and I think this was the climax - the moment he called Docm77 "Doc".

While Doc is doing the most stoic stuff ever and trying not to self destruct and stuff, he cares about X too, very much even, he's protective towards him and shows it by jumping into danger he could have avoided [ Etho attacked X because he's an admin and probably knows where's Grian - Etho wants to hunt down this pesky bird for killing Bdubs] just so his partner won't get hurt how sweet <3 RIP arm you will be remembered...

Anyways I feel like they should talk about stuff and maybe cuddle and maybe I don't know LIVE?? NOT DIE??

Yeah, I think that I don't even need to explain for how long they've been spinning in my head.

Also wanted to thank you so much for so many kind words on my fanart !! I'm glad I can make someone happy with my cheap, old drawing tablet and some self taught skills lol sorry for flooding your ask-box again so so sorry but those comics make me go AWOOGA holy shift, and also DOC AND X CONTENT !! They are so underrated that you almost can't find anything good relating to them as a duo! [personally I think they're great, just two dudes that do things together and care for eachother <3]

So, yep. Prepare yourself for things like that after every new part comes out I WILL make memes and I WILL analyse block men.... sorry not sorry :)

[how to get me into an AU- tutorial: Xisumavoid must be in it- the end]

WE ARE ROTATING THEM. WE ARE WATCHING THEM ROTATE!!!!! you freaking GET me

(THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING THOUGHTS HAPPENING HERE!!!! None of which I’ll confirm but Eye Emoji :3 I love love love these theories they make me so happy ehehehehehe)

(ALSO YOU’RE SO WELCOME!!! That art made my day fr LMAO I love and appreciate it so much!!! <3)

#totally agreed. doc and xisuma are underrated #not even as a ship #just as friends I love their duo soooo much #I have a feeling xisuma and doc are gonna do smthn in season 10 together. I just have a feeling #then you’ll all be sorry /idk what this means #dbhc ask #dbhc xisuma #dbhc doc #art escapades #1-marigold-1 #the shepherd #my sona #LISTEN YALL GET ME TOO ON THE XISUMA THING #I THOUGHT ABOUT XISUMA FOR TWO SECONDS. WATCHED 5 MINUTES OF HIS VIDEOS. AND WENT. oh okay so I’m making him important in this au.#Xisuma is SUCH an underrated creator I love him SOOOO much Hes so funny and silly and charming #anyway sorry for rambling I’m just RGHRGHRGHR about him #I’m also crazy about doc #so naturally. gestures

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ystrike1 · 1 year

Text

Hotaru no Yomeiri - By Tachibana Oreco (9/10)

Life is short. Live. That's the vibe I get when I read about a contract killer, and a woman with a weak heart. The beginning of this isn't romantic, but there's such a sweet implication on the first page. It draws you in.

First, we see an old woman crying over her first love.

She's very aware of her position in life. Women aren't really supposed to love. They're supposed to marry. She fell for someone she shouldn't have, and she was unable to forget him for the rest of her days.

What happened?

Satoko is a beauty. She's sixteen and some say she's the most beautiful woman in the world. Her skin is like snow. The gardeners literally stop working to stare at her when she walks outside. She is also the eldest daughter of a noble house, and she has a loving father. Her life couldn't be more perfect.

Sadly, it only looks perfect. Satoko's half sister, Miwako, is a jealous idiot who hates her for being popular. Her stepmother fully supports the bullying, and her loving father is old. He cared for her when she was ill as a child, but now there's no one left to support her. Everyone supports the lady of the house, and Miwako.

Why?

Satoko has a heart condition. The local doctors don't think she'll make it to adulthood. Satoko wants to get married and experience the life she trained for, but she can't. The doctors told her that even walking is potentially deadly for her.

Satoko gets kidnapped. It is highly likely that her stepmother is behind it. The criminals don't want anything but her violent and brutal death. The gang also wants to rape her before that. A lone murderer guards her, in her execution cell. His name is Shinpei. He's only eighteen, but he's already a legendary assassin.

Satoko begs for her life, but it doesn't work. Shinpei only cares about money...and being loved. Shinpei has always wanted a loving relationship, just like her. He doesn't trust anything she says, because she is a rich and spoiled heiress. It's...brutal? He basically psychologically tortures her to figure out what she's willing to do to live. He's definitely not a prince.

She proposes to him. Her family has money. Most likely more money than whoever ordered the hit. Her father will pay dearly for her life, and her husband will be wealthy. That's why men still propose to her, despite her condition. Satoko makes this offer out of desperation, but Shinpei decides to test her for real. If she passes she'll be the only object of his love.

Violence explodes. Shinpei kills at least ten men. He accepts the proposal after Satoko proves she can love him. Satoko says she is not spoiled. She's been prepared for death for years. Marrying Shinpei doesn't scare her. She just wants to live as long as she can. That's...perfect for him. Women have tried to seduce him, because he is powerful, but he had to kill them all when they started to fear him. Basically, he needs a tough woman.

Satoko is his chance to have love. He immediately gets attached. He wants everything. Couple baths. Tender hair brushing. Devotion beyond death. He's lonely, just like Satoko. She also very much needs protection. Deep down she knows her stepmother ordered the hit. Having a killer husband is kind of ideal right now.

Shinpei is twisted. He keeps manipulating Satoko. He wants her to confirm their love over and over. She decides to show him she's ACTUALLY tough. She can't let him keep pushing her around. So, she asks for his heart. Literally, she says her heart is no good and she wants his inside her.

This changes everything. Shinpei realizes that Satoko is not a coward who will kiss his ass to survive. She's not willing to constantly reassure him. He has to participate in the relationship and actually get to know her. This gradual buildup is a good bedrock for love. The best thing about this one is how realistic it is. The kidnapping is brutal. The killing is brutal. The family drama is brutal. It really feels like Satoko is a young woman in need of power. She's not some idealistic girl that can fix everything with her smile.

She has to think.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #manga #Hotaru no Yomeiri

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chiriwritesstuff · 25 days

Text

... in Every Universe - A Roswell-inspired Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader Soulmates AU (Prologue)

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: At five years old, you're found wandering alone in a weird town called Roswell and have no recollection of how you got there. 20 years later, you're working at your adoptive family's diner and you can't help the connection you feel with the town's bounty hunter, who just can't stop staring at you... what happens when you're on the brink of death and the man in question saves you in a way you can't explain?

Chapter Tags and Warnings: Canon divergent, minor descriptions of violence towards the reader (she gets shot), flashes between different universes and POVs, eventual smut, explicit language, loosely based on 'Roswell' (the 1999 WB series), Grogu exists in all universes, no beta we die like men!

Word Count: 1.7k

Nova

"Here we go! One meteor shake and one Alien Blood for the lady!"

You place the drinks down on the table, a forced smile gracing your lips as you eye the eccentric couple across from you. Arching a curious eyebrow, you take in their vibrant Crash Festival shirts, suppressing the urge to snort. "So, are you two here for the Crash Festival this weekend?"

"We sure are!" the man excitedly says, placing an arm around his girlfriend. "It's our first time here in Roswell. Are you from here?"

"Proud to say my family's been in Roswell for at least the last four generations," you declare, a hint of pride coloring your words as you wipe your hands on your apron. Sure, you think to yourself. I was actually found wandering around town by myself not knowing who I was at five years old before being found by your adoptive father one night, but how would they know?

The couple's faces light up with excitement, drawing closer to you. "So your family must know about what happened all those years ago then?" the woman asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "...with the crash, that is?"

"Well, I guess since you both seem like nice folks, it wouldn't hurt to share this with you," you say conspiratorially, reaching into your apron and withdrawing a folded paper. "I assume you can keep a secret?"

The couple's eyes widen as they slowly take the photo out of your hands, their mouths agape in astonishment. Your coworker Omera rolls her eyes as she passes by, coffee pot in hand, chuckling quietly to herself. "You are so bad," she whispers in your ear. "You're lucky your dad isn't around, I'm sure Greef would sprout another head if he had to deal with your antics once again," she adds, offering refills to the two men at the table next to you.

"Refill, gentlemen?" Omera asks the men, frowning as she notices their aggravated state.

"Does it look like we need any refills?" one of the men asks harshly, waving her off. "Just go away!" he shouts, glaring at her. She gives you a frown as she turns around.

You wave her off quickly, turning your attention back to the couple.

"My grandfather actually was working near the crash site when he was younger and managed to take a picture before the feds arrived to clean up the scene," you whisper, glancing to your side to make sure no one else can hear your conversation. The photo shows a grotesque alien amongst the wreckage of a crash site, obviously fake.

"Does anyone else know about this photograph?" the woman presses, taking note of your hesitance.

"Well, I know about it, and now you guys know, too." You say seriously, trying not to laugh at their obliviousness.

"Woah, this is fucking insane!" the man exclaims quietly, looking at the photograph once more.

"I'll be right back, alright?" you suddenly say, a serious look on your face. "Don't show that to anyone, okay?"

"Yeah!" they both sputter, the man folding the photograph and placing it in his pocket. "Your secret's safe with us!" the woman whispers, nodding.

You nod back at her, straightening yourself up. You catch up to Omera as she laughs at the mischievous expression on your face.

"You are such a menace!" Omera playfully smacks you as the two of you make your way back to the kitchen, a satisfied smirk on your face. "Oh, and Din Djarin is staring at you again," she adds, discreetly nodding in his direction.

"No way!" you exclaim, pushing her into the kitchen. "Omera, that is so in your imagination!"

You turn to look in the direction of the man in question, your eyes meeting his as he clears his throat, quickly breaking eye contact and glancing at his young son seated next to him. Your breath suddenly catches in your throat as you nervously glance back at your friend, the collar of your scratchy uniform suddenly too tight and constricting. "Din Djarin? This?" you point to yourself, shaking your head at your best friend. "No, uh-uh."

"Oh, but with those cheeks and that smile of yours? How can that handsome brooding man resist the princess of Roswell, huh?"

"Omera, come on, cut it out!" you exclaim, waving your hands in protest. "...and even if he was staring at me, it doesn't matter. I'm with Cobb! He's steady, sexy, and totally into me!" you declare, nodding to yourself as if trying to convince yourself as well.

"It sounds like you're describing a golden retriever or something," Omera deadpans, walking back towards the dining hall. "Sounds awfully exciting, shacking up with the Sheriff and all that," she mutters to you, shaking her head. "Why have dependable vanilla sex when you can have exciting mysterious sex with Roswell's resident bounty hunter? I bet he could fuck you five ways to-"

"I gave you a week!" the man from the neighboring table shouts, jumping up and pulling out a gun from his pocket. "You're about to see what happens when you mess around!"

"Nova!" Omera's voice rings out suddenly. "Call your dad, things are getting crazy!"

Before you can react, the other man lunges at the one with the gun, struggling to disarm him. In the chaos, the gun goes off, and you feel a sharp pain as you're hit.

"Oh my god!" Omera exclaims, turning to the other patrons. "Is everyone okay?" She looks towards your direction, her eyes widening in shock as she sees you curled up on the floor. "Nova!" she screams as the dining room descends into chaos, the two men running out of the restaurant in a hurry before someone calls 911. "Someone, help!" she screams into the crowd frantically.

Din

Din jumps as he sees the bullet go in your direction, glancing at his young son still seated in the chair next to him. "Grogu, are you okay?"

"Yes, dada," he shakily responds, his eyes glancing at your crumpled form. "Nova's hurt!" he exclaims, pointing in your direction. "Grogu help her!" he cries, attempting to get out of his seat.

"No!" Din shouts, "You stay right there, I'll help her, okay? Stay with Uncle Boba!"

"Din, no," Boba warns through gritted teeth. "We can't risk getting exposed-"

"I can't just fucking leave her to bleed out!" Din cries helplessly, looking in your direction. "I need to help her!"

As he rushes toward you, Omera follows closely behind. "Call 911!" he commands, using it as a diversion to keep her away, not wanting her near the two of you as he grapples internally with what he's about to do.

"Nova," he whispers, ripping your uniform away from your body, his eyes trained on the blood pooling on your torso. "I need you to look at me, can you do that for me?" he pleads, placing a hand behind your head. "Nova," he begs, "Please baby, I need you to look at me."

Your eyes flutter open slightly as he gazes intently back at you, his hand applying pressure to your wound with gentle urgency. Vivid images flood your mind as Din focuses on healing you.

In an instant, you're in a desert, brandishing a laser sword against a lizard-like adversary. A voice calls out, and you're struck from behind by a blaster shot. Then, as Din presses harder on your wound, you're transported to a spaceship, writhing in pain as you clutch your abdomen. A figure stands beside you, armored and mysterious, their helmet removed. But before you can identify the man in armor, you snap back to reality, meeting the deep brown eyes of Din once more.

Din breathes a sigh of relief as the wound on your torso closes, his eyes fluttering closed as he recalls the visions he shared with you moments before. She can't be, he thinks to himself, his hands cradling your face gently as he draws you closer to him, pulling you into the safety of his chest. "You're okay, Nova," he whispers against your ear. "You're with me, alright? Stay with me."

"Dada," Grogu's sudden cry breaks the moment, his face etched with concern. "Did you heal mama?"

"What did you say?" Din's voice is filled with disbelief as he looks at his son. "What did you call her?"

"Mama," Grogu repeats, attempting to reach you. "I felt her pain just now, I knew I saw her in my dreams-"

"Djarin!" Boba's sudden shout startles you, and Grogu protests as he's lifted up, reaching out toward both of you. "We've got to go, NOW!"

Din swiftly assesses the situation, gently setting you back down on the ground before grabbing a nearby bottle of ketchup. Squeezing it over your chest and uniform, he meets your gaze with urgency. "You took a fall and broke the bottle accidentally," he whispers to you, swiftly rising to his feet. "Please, if Cobb asks, just say it was a nasty fall, okay?" With that, he dashes towards the door, joining Boba and Grogu already waiting in the idling car outside.

You nod as Omera rushes to your side, helping you up as you watch Din jump into the car and speed away.

"Nova," Omera says, her voice filled with concern as she takes in your disheveled appearance. "What in the hell just happened?"

"I don't know," you stammer, trying to make sense of it all. You close your eyes once more, and it feels as though you're still in that spaceship, with Din's hands clasping yours as he gazes back at you, tears streaming down his face. Your heart races as you glance down at your wounded form, only to find yourself suddenly pregnant, your eyes widening in disbelief at your swollen abdomen.

"Stay with me, Nova," Din pleads in your memory, tearing away your tunic as blood gushes from your abdomen. "Please, stay with me," he cries, tears cascading down his face as he tenderly caresses your pregnant belly. "Please Cyar'ika, please don't leave me!"

"Nova!" Omera's desperate screams are the last thing you hear as you slip into unconsciousness, the world around you plunging into darkness.

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