#Lmk if there’s any more clarification needed

[honorthysalad]

Some people on tiktok are saying they feel hgns is turning into queerbaiting, because in 25-1 yoshiki is basically the reincarnation of the wife that was brought back to life and so its like the 2 of them are just the modern day equivalents of the husband and the wife, whats your thoughts on this? I probably didn't explain it very well but do you think the story is also going to take that direction or do you think its an over reaction ? I don't have the best analysis abilities so i was curious what you thought

I'm going to preface that I have not seen the original video making this point, and so I am working off talking points I've seen other people using.

I think hgsn has always had a problem with this. Not queerbaiting, but instead that when people are recommended this manga by other people, they are told it's a horror BL. Hgsn is not a BL. It was, but then after chapter 3, Mokumokulen removed the BL tags, and the official website where hgsn is hosted has not had it listed as a BL for a long time. It is currently listed as outsider, horror/bizarre, mystery/thriller. However, English sites continue to list it as a BL, probably for lack of an LGBT tag. Hgsn has not been a BL in a long time, and while yes, the pilot (<- btw the pilot has no bearing on the current manga. A lot of things have been changed from the pilot aside from the BL elements) and first three chapters have a lot of BL signaling, Mokumokulen has clearly changed their mind on having a romance between Yoshiki and 'Hikaru'.

Does this make it queerbaiting? I'd say no because the characters are still visibly queer. There have definitely been retcons, but Yoshiki being gay has gone unchanged. I've seen a few people pointing to Ch21 as proof that Yoshiki is heterosexual because when he looks at 'Hikaru's collarbone, he says "I don't feel anything in particular anymore". I feel the important part of that being is 'anymore', meaning he once did. This part of the chapter is a reflection on their sexualities, wherein 'Hikaru' tells Yoshiki he doesn't understand romantic or sexual attraction and Yoshiki, while he refuses to say outright, isn't straight. He was attracted to Hikaru's body and says he has feelings for Hikaru that 'Hikaru' wouldn't understand. This chapter makes it clear that Yoshiki is gay and 'Hikaru' is aromantic and asexual. They are still queer characters, the story is still fundamental a queer story of feeling othered in a small town and the terror of discovering your sexuality, and not having a romantic relationship between Yoshiki and 'Hikaru' doesn't take away from that.

I think an important part of queerbaiting is that despite being promised queer characters, the media has none or features them very little. Think of The Rise of Skywalker where the queer representation the director claimed was in the movie during press interviews is actually a kiss between two women limited to a background shot in a crowd shot. That two-second scene wasn't representative of anyone, was hidden away in the background, but then touted as a LGBT+ representation because the directors and company wanted the movie to be seen as progressive. That's queerbaiting and that's definitely not what hgsn is doing. Queerbaiting is not expecting a romantic relationship to develop between two characters and never having it actualized in canon. That's just being disappointed, which is still reasonable but not really grounds to accuse the author of something greater.

(I'm not going to touch much on that ancestors point. I think that Yoshiki actually being straight because he has the soul of a woman is a strange conclusion to come to, especially when we don't know if he even is a reincarnation of Hichi yet, and has really weird implications. And then the original sin being trying to bring someone back from the dead is the only thing that makes sense narratively because the danger of refusing to accept death as a natural part of life is a key theme in hgsn.)

So to just wrap it all up- is changing your mind mid-story about the genre messy? yeah, definitely. Is hgsn perfectly written? no- oh my god, no. Is hgsn queerbaiting? No, because Mokumokulen might have changed their mind on a romance, but they did not change their mind on having queer characters, and non-romantic stories of queer people are still important stories to tell.

And then if you disagree with people who are disappointed that hgsn isn't a BL, don't just start insulting them or their intelligence. They were picking up on exactly what the author wanted them to at the time. The introduction sets up the tone for everything that follows and hgsn changed its mind mid-introduction. Being told by the manga 'look at all these romantic implications!' and then a few chapters later getting told 'actually nvm' is going to be confusing for any reader. I think mokumokulen has put a lot of work into making this a gradual change (the real breakdown of a possible romantic relationship comes in vol2's bonus chapter and concludes in ch21), but it doesn't removed what was already there in the first chapters. And like- if you don’t like someone’s take, block them. Easy way to not see takes from them anymore. Or just like ignore it. Complain to a friend about it. Draft up a reply and delete it. No need to be a dick to them.

[silvermun]

I need to know your process of drawing, sir lancelot. I have my own version of him, but I have severe problems with his armor and sword I need an alternative perspective to drawing him but I just can't find it on my own,I saw your commission of sir lancelot cleaning his blade from another user and I was amazed on how good the sword looked so I wanted to ask your progress on how you manage to draw em in hopes of getting better myself at it

a lot of my process has been mainly just through a lot of close-looking and kind of understanding how the armour sits on the body :o

i think taking the armour piece by piece and sort of layering it one by one helps in better visualizing how to not make it look so stiff/out of place! really understand what each segment looks/feels and the kind of shapes they have and how they connect together

also i cannot stress enough how much you need references for these guys; literally anything counts (i've zoomed in on so many shitty game screenshots 💀) i have a lancelot figurine myself which has been a huge advantage but yeah look for as many references as you can they will save you SO much 🙏

i've actually made a reference sheet about lancelot a couple years ago (that i should really revamp lol) when i was first starting to get used to drawing the satbk knights so i hope that can also provide some help :]

i'm fortunate to be in a point where now it's more of a second nature thing to me and i can just draw the characters with their armour on immediately bc of muscle memory since i've been doing it for many years

it does start out really confusing or overwhelming, sometimes slow, but once you do it a couple of times i promise it gets much easier ^^

[proshipconfessions]

not a confession, but more of a question. is there any difference between proship and profic other than the labels? are they like... basically the same thing? or is there a bit of divide between proship and profic? sorry if you've gotten an ask like this before.

I answered a question here, which I believe contains the answer.

[ascel-vibes]

aUGh- being dealt 10000 damage from a gen|der|bent poll i voted on....... *despair emote holding head in hands*

[hwaightme]

Avaritia

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR CAPTAIN'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

⚫ pairing: ceo/sugar daddy!hongjoong x assistant/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut... just smut really ⚫ summary: everything has a price, but sugar makes this truth so much sweeter. no matter what he says, hongjoong will buy that new purse for you, will flaunt you in front of his business partners, and will make sure you know you are his. ⚫ wordcount: 8.3k ⚫ warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, tried to edit - lost it - bon appetit, language, teasing, on a flight, a lot of money, wealth, first world, brand name dropping harder than San in the logs, hj is a sweetheart, mc is needy but in denial, full avarice mode lmk if anything else, nsfw tags and playlist rec under the cut ⚫ taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo ⚫ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ⚫ a/n: Sometimes, I am calm. Other times (read 'all the time) I am getting wrecked by everyone in ATEEZ. Here is what Balmain Joong did to me. Any comments, reblogs much loved; we spiraled into madness (hail sucrose pop, glucose father joong lol)

⚫ nsfw tags: daddy/baby girl dynamic, sugar daddy, reader is a 'doll', soft dom!hj (literally cannot stay mad at mc), overstimulation (seriously what is hj doing to mc...), fingering, mile high club, blowjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, possessiveness, dirty talk, sex on a desk, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that) ⚫ playlist recs: Five Star Hotels by RAYE | Sugar Daddy by Qveen Herby | SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY Remix by Amaarae | Greed by Shreea Kaul | Mile High by Salina Killa | Do I Move You? by Nina Simone | Money Power Glory by Lana Del Rey

Why was it that when real business was being discussed, the location of choice was always the most extravagant, exotic, luxurious oasis? Everything about the resort screamed unaffordable. 'Exclusive' written in blood on the pristine white sands, only to be washed away by azure blue waves to colour sea foam you could swear was whipped up in a divine patisserie. A perverse flavour inaccessible to the majority but driving the decisions that ruled the world. It was challenging to not become partial to the taboo indulgence when it was handed to you on a silver platter together with a tailor-made career. Anyone would need to acclimatise to what most considered a distant fantasy, but a few flights on a private jet later did wonders in curing the delirium of the average and introducing an insatiable materialism.

Thus, you were not particularly bothered when your boss requested you book another retreat to a private resort in the middle of the ocean - considering the business's cash flow and offshore 'pocket money', this was not too different from your routine trip to the cafe down the street to get his 'coffee' - more sugar than caffeine but this was a secret that you were to keep to the grave; it was written in small print on your contract. It was easy to book when you just needed to send out a few messages to staff and drop a name to any external service people at the right time. Their reaction, stuttering and need for clarification never failed to be amusing; even the most outrageous demands gained appeal once the won, euro, dollars, whatever they wanted from the global wallet, began to stack up. Green bills, green trees - in a twisted way, these boys who liked to play the role of the all-seeing and all mighty were farmers too. And fruits of their labour were always the sweetest.

Sure, you worked hard and had your own path that you could have followed. Even had a degree to prove that you had at least an ounce of dedication. But what would it give you, in fact, what did it give you before your renaissance? Crumbs. Sheer crumbs, student debt and a chronic migraine. But as it turned out, a couple hundred k did wonders when it came to personal health and wellbeing. And on top of that, the myriad of other benefits that your current lifestyle had, had the ability to crush any argument and accusation hurled in your direction, of which you had many. You had figured out soon enough that diamonds were your real best friend, while those who you had considered your ride or die evaporated as soon as they saw you wearing designer. And that had been when the best you could ask for was old collections, and widely available products. You were not lonely. You had too many hats to wear, and a very demanding man, by the name of Kim Hongjoong, to entertain. And one who currently had his eyebrows furrowed, a couple of unruly strands of hair perking up out of his otherwise slick business ‘do, glasses barely holding onto the tip of his beautifully sculpted nose, and was leafing through the papers he had asked you to prepare for the duration of the flight.

For the CEO of a global company, and the heir to an even larger network, he sure as hell was incredibly young. You did not envy his turmoil and exposure to stress one bit, almost feeling sorry and in part guilty, since percentages of his spendings were technically lost on you. There had even been instances when you found yourself sat in a dark room, laptop screen aglow and on a blank page, with you wondering how one crafted a resignation paper. But once you and Hongjoong could have even a couple of moments alone, when he would ravish you, make and call you his and reveal to you all the things he had planned that could not be reflected on his calendar, that document would be promptly deleted and recycle bin emptied. Your ‘relationship’ had been this way since the one meeting, in his main office, on a bright and early morning.

He had called you up into his office and simply told you that he had another ‘job opportunity’ for you. At that point you had been desperate, with financial problems endlessly piling up, from debt to your family’s hospital fees to bailing your estranged brother out of prison. And to make things unethical – Hongjoong had known this. He had done his research – more specifically, he had asked some colleagues in his company, ones who you would never suspect, to snoop around and find out more about you. And as it turned out, you were the perfect candidate for ‘being treated right’ by him, while bearing the title and carrying out the formal façade of secretary and personal assistant duties. In his practice, as well as his father’s and partners’, this was probably the most stable relationship they would ever get in life, so might as well be picky.

Initially, you had simply become a receiver of gifts. Pretending like this was Hongjoong’s love language, you were touched and did not think much of it. Maybe through these purchases he was moving money in ways it should not be moved, but you could not care less – not your problem, not your area of expertise, you had the outcome, and the outcome was something like a crocodile leather bag or a dress fresh off the runway. Hongjoong had insisted on picking every single item out for you, letting his controlling executive side win over. He had explained that you had to look like ‘the prettiest doll in the world’ for him, and for that he needed to check for quality. After a couple of months, however, such sugary sweet presents had been reserved for special occasions, and for the rest, money was wired directly to a new, account, a platinum card he had opened for you and given you. To just step into the consultation room with his portfolio manager and private banking consultant had felt like you were cheating existence. You had been a lowly assistant to an assistant before. And now, decked out in Dior, were sat beside one of the most influential men in the modern era of this industry, letting him hand you eye-watering sums as if it was a couple of coins for a pack of gum.

Now, well, now you were conflicted. As months had turned into a year and were now approaching the two-year mark if you could remember correctly, your ‘relationship’ had started to feel more and more like a real one. Hongjoong had caught himself divulging details of experiences that he had never spoken about with anyone before. And nowadays, when you had sex, it felt less like a mindless fuck and more like making love, with the man expressing more than he ever could with every hot touch, press of his lips to yours, even his lustful intensity had gained a new colour. You could feel that he was confused, but would not dare let go of you – you knew that he put your name down on some very important documents, after all. As such, it was a rare but unbelievable pleasure to push Hongjoong’s buttons and get him all riled up for you, just so he could expel that pressure and that tension from a busy work day out on you. You were that caring of a personal assistant. And wanted him to keep on talking. Keep on telling you his deepest darkest secrets. You wanted to be a part of him, the hedonistic side, the one that seized the day and knew how to enjoy the earthly realm without counting and fighting.

For the flight to the resort and extended series of meetings with key business partners, you had chosen to wear an outfit that you knew Hongjoong was unravelled by. It was a black and white Prada poplin mini dress that did wonders to accentuate your curves and edges, and was paired with some classic, black leather, So Kate Louboutin heels and gold accessories to match the dainty little buttons on the dress. Really, this was dress number two since the last one had been quite literally torn off you by none other than your boss, but he did not want to ruin the night and as such, had promised to contact the house of fashion itself to get an exact replica of the limited edition garment. And this man kept his promises. But right now, even though you were sat in the private office in his jet, with the bodyguards safely outside, lounging and doing whatever bodyguards did to occupy themselves, he was not paying attention to you at all. Only winding himself up more with those compiled quarterly reports that you were now regretting having finalised them and bringing them at all. What was the worst that you would have gotten had you not done the task? A spanking? Oh, how scary… you have had it rougher on a casual and uneventful day. Now you needed to get creative to get his attention, and being needy would not do. So very slowly, gazing out of the window at the clouds your were drifting past, you crossed your legs, revealing the legendary red bottoms of the heels you were wearing, and reached for the notebook and pen that were just peeking out of your handbag. Unbeknownst to you, you already had his attention with your abrupt change of pattern. Normally you would be on your phone, or typing away on your laptop, even remaining idle would be more characteristic, so Hongjoong’s interest was piqued by the little planner that contained all your thoughts and actions. He slouched back in his seat, and raised he papers a little higher, so that he could steal glances at you more discreetly.

You were paying no mind to what your boss was up to, preoccupied by the cream pages and the visualisation of the figure in front of you, but in your mind. Sometimes, when work was slow, you had taken to doodling random people around the office, as well as sketching out a variety of landscapes that took your fancy. Though the main subject was always Hongjoong. You had gotten quite good at picturing his facial features and depicting them even in a few lines, catching his micro expressions and shift in body language. There were also a couple of drawings you had done with him as a live model, though he was asleep and in the nude, so no one was ever going to know about that – you had stashed them away in a safe hidden behind the drawers of your desk. It only made sense that he was in most of your drawings: after all, he was the man who had bestowed upon you such unimaginable riches and a quality of life so drastically improved, that you had no choice but to worship him. He had made you who you were now. A shining diamond.

And this shining diamond was a little too bright for him to keep on focusing on the profit and loss analysis. After about ten minutes of frustrating silence, he dropped the papers onto the table in front of him and leaned to put his elbows on its edge. You had still not raised your eyes at him – something that you normally did nearly on instinct since you were so in tune with his gestures, which made Hongjoong inhale aggressively. His previously neutral expression had turned into a scowl as he raised an eyebrow and gave you a onceover. His precious doll was up to something.

“What are you doing?” though the question was simple, his voice was dangerously low. But you could not be threatened by a good time. You kept your eyes trained on the page as your hand moved methodically to hatching the shadows of his, as of not too long ago, brilliant blond locks, ones you adored to run your hands through whenever you had the chance. Which was a rare occurrence outside of the ‘bedroom’, but still.

“Just noting some things down, Mister Kim.” Though he had insisted that you call him Hongjoong when you two were alone, it had been a challenging transition to get used to. But at least it gave you ample opportunity for… discouraging him further. He liked for everything to run like a well-oiled machine, with his eyes reading a business strategy in anything and anyone. You had no doubt that that was how he was scrutinising you now. Equal parts assessing the attitude and doting on you.

He was a sweetheart treating his favourite toy. Talking competitive analysis and takeovers in the morning, and clinking glasses with you at an exclusive Michelin star restaurant in the evening. And to think that you were the only one, aside from his family, who got to see more than one side of him was an intriguing notion. Actually, scratch that. Certain things you were sure to be the only one taking care of. Take his nasty habit of overworking, which you had called out even if it was just you feeling bored: all work and no play made Hongjoong a dull boy, and thus, less likely to compensate for your presently aimless sitting around.

“By colouring the entire page? Not good to lie to me, you know that.” Of course. When it came to matters of business, for example, this man had ears everywhere, had infiltrated every other competitor and had become a spider in the corporate world. He would probably find out someone was cheating on their spouse sooner than the spouse themselves. When it came to you, however, he did not have your intricate neural network mapped out just yet. He could only fluff up his feathers and put on airs.

“It is only ink, Mister Kim. And surely the ink to paper ratio is not more than the balance sheet on page twenty seven.” You purposefully moved away from his interrogation, subliminally reprimanding him from stopping his concentration. The ghost of a smirk was gracing your lips, hidden by hair that had fallen to perfectly frame your delicate facial features. Hongjoong still had not corrected you on using his ‘work title’.

“I should ask you to start drawing the spreadsheets out by hand then.”

“Maybe next time, as a special treat. In the meantime, we have what we have and must settle for it.” A lot more standoffish than usual, you were brushing your boss off as you continued the sketch. He could not exactly reprimand you, however. You were right in the fact that his suggestion was nothing more than white noise.

“Settle for less, Y/N?” the question rang loudly in your ears and translated itself to a reminder to know your place fairly quickly. You could imagine Hongjoong’s raised eyebrow and playful grin. In addition to him hinting at your arrangements, he switched to calling out your first name. Promising.

There was a customary mention of money and class even when it was not the main topic of conversation. Really, it was what had brought you two together, or rather the stark difference between what you and him had, respectively. Hongjoong enjoyed having financial control over you and ended up dangling it above your head in the form of his not so subtle first-world conduct. You preferred to imagine that it was him wrapping you up in the softest, silkiest Chanel ribbon, like the one you had seen in adverts and on the packaging that, alone, could have probably provided you with enough food to last a week in your life before.

It was not that Hongjoong did not try to ‘stay humble’. Based on your observations, out of all his financial peers, company clients and members of the executive board, he was probably the least likely to boast about the figures that his numerous bank accounts contained. It was possible that when the strings of digits began to look more like a phone number, one grew more tranquil. Money spoke louder than words. But you knew how to make Hongjoong get vocal. Or so you thought.

“More is never enough.”

“Having more takes a lot of work and being on your best behaviour, Y/N.” he may not know all of your thoughts and reasoning but knew that you got extra charming when you became needy. Trying so hard to get his attention that you would invest all your efforts into it. It was only fair after how much he had invested in you.

The Tiffany & Co necklace on your neck that he traced with his gaze was nothing more than a collar, a leash tethering you to him. An Elsa Peretti piece, a golden snake which had cost Hongjoong just under thirty million Korean won, was perhaps the best way to symbolise the chokehold you were beginning to have on him. You were there in business, there in pleasure, and he was contemplating preventing you from taking holidays unless they somehow involved him. It would be easy – just block all of your cards and you would come crawling. He was greedy for your reactions. The way your lip would curl when he would put somebody back in their place during a conference or a meeting. How you enjoyed it when he praised you for completing the challenging, soul-draining tasks that never ceased to pile up – he had never failed to continue scrutinising you through the glass walls of his office as you excitedly returned to your desk, a soft smile always on your face. How you were completely at his mercy when he wanted to give you an extra special present. He loved how the jewellery he had gifted you or sponsored for you to buy rocked back and forth as he took his time to take you apart. Piece by piece. His priceless game.

Hongjoong smoothed his lapels and adjusted his cotton jacket that he had bought in the colour warm khaki, tightening the knot of the wrap belt. Smugly, he took note of how your pretty, made up lips parted. What were you imagining he was doing now? He was not going to care, at least not right away. He demonstratively picked up the reports again, flipping through the bounded pages on autopilot as, what he could only decipher to be a disappointed gasp, reached his ears. It was a relief that the paper hid his growing smirk. Mister Kim was work-mode Hongjoong, after all. What did you expect?

Ignored and rejected, so be it. You knew this interaction well enough to be able to count, down to the minute, when Hongjoong would crack, or you would crack and still come sauntering over. He liked to be needed – the main reason why he had agreed to become the heir to the corporation in the first place, more than you liked to be needy. But sometimes, you were a little too impatient for your own liking – probably a side effect of having been transferred to a silver spoon lifestyle after experiencing hardship after hardship. As such, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong was a constant battle. You could almost taste his pride as he inspected the figures you had compiled for him, a lazy hand moving to adjust the collar of his white turtleneck. Through fluttering eyelashes, you feasted on the dangerously handsome man, determining that he really did look astonishingly captivating in Balmain.

It was frustrating, this ongoing game that you two played and would not quit despite the effect that it very obviously had on all parties involved, but much like with the drugs that made the occasional special appearance in the closed VIP-only events, it was too addictive. Even now, you knew that you should not pay attention to Hongjoong, but your eyes were not obeying you in the slightest. Over the time you had come to intimately know this man, if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that he had an aura. An enigmatic charm, a magnetism that was so subtle to anyone who you now had the ability and first world clarity of deeming 'average' was unlikely to detect. However, before you knew it, upon locking eyes with Hongjoong, listening to his dulcet tone that would turn to orchestrate the music in your mind, you began to fall hard and fast into the abyss that was his power and control, trapped and even if you wanted out, forgetting the words. Once you fell in, the only words that mattered were the ones that he deemed to be so, and they were so heavily contextual and dependent on his mood that, usually, you did not dare oppose it.

It was fascinating to you how time seemed to pass differently when there was a price associated with it. Be it Hongjoong's net worth or what he was wiring into your accounts, it did not matter. What mattered was the bills that bound you together like the lace of your lingerie, one which was growing tighter around your body by the second as you kept on openly devouring Hongjoong with each shameless gaze, the thoughts cropping up because of the ghost of a smirk that he was wearing only fanning the flame. He was illegal. In all senses. No man should have the right to have such an influence over you as he did, and yet here you were. Working the role of his personal toy, so dedicated that you were on the verge of begging for him to play with you. You needed him. As much as you hated to admit it, since you still did want to retain at least a tiny portion of independence, this man had given you more than what you could ever wish for. Riches, connections, diamonds, sex. And you could not get enough, happily driven to madness by the immense pleasure of being a capricious diva with infantile demands for all the world's sweetness. Or, as your brother had put it, perhaps out of a sick gratitude to you for helping him getting at least a part of his life back on track, before you blocked him for good, you were getting off on being a pampered, prissy sugar baby. Though you saw no issue with simply doing what you were good at, and you still completed your regular duties as a personal assistant. It was just that your 'personal' was a little different from the commonly accepted corporate average. And the business that you carried out in the after hours was not just classified – when you had been faced with the decision of whether to agree to enter such a relationship with Hongjoong or not, you had naively placed your life at stake. That was the level at which you had to operate. But the thrill that it gave you, more than justified it.

Your internal clock was ticking away like a time bomb as you grew more and more frustrated, while Hongjoong, in a manner not too far from that of a cat’s, gave a soft yawn and made himself more comfortable in his chair, spreading his legs further apart under his desk and leaning back to continue his reading. Deciding that he had enough of having to repeatedly push his glasses up, he decisively took them off, and slowly folded them together, holding one of the temple tips very lightly with his lips. In a graceful motion, Hongjoong set them down to his right, beside a couple of pens. You recalled speaking with the designer over the phone, ordering for them to be customised and getting shipped over from the US in record time, and while you were not exactly sure as to why they were so important, the key stakeholders in the company had raved about them on multiple occasions, much to your boss’s delight.

You could feel that he was well aware of your present sensations, and purposefully was not acting on them, just to see you squirm. This was only making you more fixated on getting his attention, which you tried to do by letting out another soft sigh, quickly realising that if you were to get anything out of him, you had to be more rash, and act on instinct. In other words, act out of line. Taking the moment he dived back into the report as an opportunity, you rose from the couch, and slipped out of your high heels while keeping your eyes trained on your boss. A barely noticeable twitch of the eyebrow and you were struggling to fight off a smirk, feeling every bit seductive even though it was most probably a vision of your own design. But a little confidence did not hurt.

This time, you did not make a sound as you slowly moved towards Hongjoong’s desk in a straight line, using your strength to keep your adrenaline-ruined breathing as level as physically possible, and your steps measured out as the plane rumbled beneath you. Head and body in the clouds. All because of the heavenly ruin who was paying no mind to how you rested the tips of your fingers on the edge of the desk, before lowering yourself onto your knees and dropping into a languid crawl. As you inched past his lacquered black boots, and soon found yourself right between his legs, you could see Hongjoong stiffen, but resist the urge of responding to your bold movements. This only played to your advantage, as you let your hands rest on his denim-clad thighs before snaking up to tug on his coat’s belt, loosening it until the material gave way and exposed the waistline of his jeans.

Even as you, with practiced, methodical motions, undid his jeans, he did not spare you as much as a pat on the top of your head, like he usually did when you were being his ‘good girl’. The only sign he gave of his awareness of you was the obviously hardening member that your hands purposefully grazed as you attempted to pull the denim a little further down to give you better access. When the jeans, or rather, their wearer, did not budge to allow you to take them off, you growled in annoyance and gave up trying to be gentle, instead wanting nothing more but attention, not from Mister Kim, not from your boss, but from Hongjoong. From Joongie. From your one and only daddy.

Said man was resisting every urge to yank you from under the desk and to punish you for being such a vixen, but it was clear to him that his disregard of your efforts might just be more painful – a realisation that did little to subdue his arousal. It made him acutely aware of your nimble hand finding the cut in his Armani briefs, and pulling out his erection, giving it a few pumps at the base with your fingers. The sudden caress had made him buck his hips forward, encouraging you to continue admiring his length and running your fingers up and down, not a single bit escaping your touch. He gripped the papers in his hands until they began to get crumpled at the edges, and eventually dropped them to lean back and get a view of the scene unfolding at his feet. All just to catch you as you licked your lips, revealing a thick coating of spit, moved towards his dick, and while keeping it steady with one hand, ran your wet tongue from the base to the very tip, parting with a lewd twirl over the head. Hongjoong bit back a hiss as he locked eyes with yours, half-lidded – you knew all his sensitivities, his pressure points and guilty pleasures, and that was infinitely dangerous for a man like him to share, it only made you more attractive. You had memorised him as if he was your assignment. Your most important test and duty. Never leaving your mind and driving you to insanity as you drifted from wave to wave of uncontrollable desire for him, and him alone. You were his. And you looked so pretty, a queen all made up and dressed in gorgeous rare pieces, kneeling before him and taking in his member between your soft lips. Deeper. Deeper, until he could feel your hot inner cheeks, the back of your tongue and how a rumble emanated from you as you hummed in satisfaction, the vibration forcing Hongjoong to tilt his head back and sigh.

You were greedy for Hongjoong, moving yourself at a slow pace to take in as much of him as you could, hands finding themselves clinging onto the legs of his jeans for support, and to allow you to try your best and continue devour him without his guidance. As you moved away for a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a salacious pop announcing the temporary loss of contact, you noticed a string of what you could only guess to be your saliva, mixed with his pre-cum hanging between his member and your progressively more swollen lips. Once again, you took the throbbing member in your hand and were about to resume its worship, when a strong grip of your hair, nails momentarily sinking into your scalp, alerted you and made your gaze shoot upwards. The sight made you cower, though the thrilling trepidation fuelled your yearning for the glowering man.

There was a demonic quality in how he stared down at you, every bit of the expression demeaning you and demanding your ruin. You knew you had overstepped by disobeying him and taking intimate matters into your own hands, but who could blame you when he was so breath-taking when wearing his favourite brand? When you lowered your eyes he tugged on your locks, sneering.

“Baby girl could not even wait until we landed, huh?” his dulcet tone dropped into a rough drawl as he could feel your breaths washing over the tip of his sensitive dick that was begging for you to finish what you had started.

“I couldn’t.” you purred, batting your eyelashes.

“And so, you resort to being naughty? Do you think that is the right thing to do, especially when I say that I am working, hm?” he was hooking the answers out of you, one of his eyebrows twitching in surprise as you did not respond immediately. He tightened his hold and made your head fall further back so that you were completely face to face, his member pressing against your cheek.

“It isn’t, daddy, but I couldn’t help myself. You just looked so pretty that I could not resist.”

“And I think you are being incredibly selfish, Y/N. Spinning these tales just so you can satisfy yourself.”

“No daddy, I want to make you feel good!” you insisted, a whine escaping you as you could feel your core beginning to grow warmer with the progressing conversation. Pressing your thighs tightly together, you relished at the friction, and bit your lower lip.

“Is that so?” he mused out loud, waiting for your to attempt to utter even a single word more.

“Yes Da-mmfph!” taking the chance, he pushed you right in, his member hitting the back of your throat, the impact making tears spring up. As you struggled against him, he held you in place and watched as you tried to adjust to him. Just as unexpectedly, he yanked you back, leaving your lips to kiss his tip, only to drag you down once more and thrust his hips once, twice against you until he could see the wetness in your eyes building until it was about to spill over.

“You said you wanted to make daddy feel good, yes?” he asked, lust clouding his brain as you mumbled utter nonsense, mouth pacified by the hard erection, “then do exactly as I say, baby girl.”

This was exactly what you missed. Hongjoong coaxing every unholy state out of you, sin setting you ablaze as you began to fail in registering the nuances of this demeanour, tears that were on the verge of rolling down your cheeks blurring your vision. This was how you pinched yourself for grounding, to assure that the lifestyle you had, the gifts which you had been bestowed with were all real and all yours. You did not search for forgiveness when the forbidden fruit was so damn sweet. So, you let yourself be used like an expensive escort by him, comforted by the thought that even though he could definitely afford having anyone else, he had selected you. And let you stick by him for almost two years. A true sweetheart who knew how to treat his girl right. You moaned into the pressure as the low grunts you elicited from Hongjoong let to the climbing of heat in your core. With the abuse of your throat becoming a rhythmic orchestration, you grew brave enough to improvise, and hollowed out your cheeks.

"Ah... fuck, baby girl..." the airy proclamation escaped him as your teeth just barely grazed his member, and he could feel his high building at an accelerated pace. He resisted your bobbing to catch a few seconds' break by pressing you to his hips, barely giving you a chance to breathe. But he knew you would take it. You always did.

Hongjoong's ragged breathing was sending you into overdrive, and you shut your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the lewd music. Barely audible over the jet engines, the loss of control was his primary expression of gratitude. The illusion that he was not, in certain senses, under your heel rapidly evaporated when the adrenaline shot him through the heart, and his frontal lobe shut down to give up the reins to carnal pleasure. Once the barriers disappeared, his one desire and need were clear. You. The one thing in his life that he would never be able to truly own, and as you unwounded him, he comprehended with an unprecedented lucidity. That was why, as you sensed his hold on you loosen and his orgasm inching closer than ever, and were about to give him the sweet release, Hongjoong snapped back to consciousness and nearly ripped you away from himself, your head barely missing the drawers under the desk.

With flushed cheeks and an adorable, innocent pout, you looked up at him, dribble accumulated at the corners of your mouth. He fell for this face every time. Your glistening eyes studying him as you appeared disappointed that you could not get daddy to cum, afraid that you made him mad. That you did something wrong. Oh, how far from the truth this was. Even though you had acted selfishly, and approached him on your own accord, nothing about you could be anything less than right. Right just for him. It was as if the heavens themselves had moulded you to fit him like a glove. Body and soul. And he will be a fool if he did not indulge in that every opportunity he had.

Taking both your hands in his, Hongjoong helped you up from under his desk, careful to not damage your dress - not that he cared for the price, but it was not particularly enjoyable contemplating the conversation you might have to have with dry cleaning. Or with the designers. Again. It was troublesome striking deals with strangers to keep their mouths shut. He rolled back on his chair, taking in your trembling form. Holding your legs together you were fighting your ache for stimulation, knowing full well that your panties were already ruined with your slick and were only serving as a fabric made for rubbing your sensitive clit. Every breath, every sigh from Hongjoong as he took off his jacket and carefully hanged it on the back of his chair, then fully undid his jeans and pushed down his underwear, was a reason for you to start begging. Couldn't he see how anxious for touch his little toy was? Evidently not, for Hongjoong took his sweet time with removing your dress, every button like a special prize that he wanted to cherish, while you were growing hazy as he peppered kiss after kiss with every new inch of exposed skin, crouching down to let the sensation build lower, feeding the knot in your stomach. His pecks stopped just about when he reached your navel and with a lazy smile on his face, he stood up to gaze into your soul with an unbelievable intensity. Hands running up your body, Hongjoong slid the magnificent article off you, hastily draping it over one of the chair's arm rests and not once glancing away from his favourite sight, a sultry oasis, within reach, and so beautifully hungry for him. He stopped your arms from resting on his sweater, muttering that you would mar it with your lusty filth, and rushed to take it off and throw it behind him. Then, there was no barrier for him anymore, and in one motion, his pelvis was against yours, member resting against your black lace-clad heat, and hands kneading your ass, moving closer and closer until they began to toy with the g-string the action turning to torture as he purposefully made the material dig into your pussy, enjoying how you threw your head back and bit back a groan.

"Please daddy, I need you..." you whispered as he increased the friction and proceeded to move his dick in and out between your full, closed thighs, teasing your erect nub until you writhed to seek even more proximity. This, however, earned you a sharp smack on your ass, the lack of anticipation making it sting. Hongjoong did not give you time to recover as he let the pins and needles work their magic and elevate your reception of his steady thrusts. You tried to grab onto him, the table, anything, but as soon as your fingers touched Hongjoong's chest, another hit echoed in your ears, eliciting a frustrated moan.

"You want to... make... daddy really happy and cum... right?" He panted, his nails digging into your flesh so violently that you could not help but wonder if Hongjoong was going to draw blood, but that brief musing only elevated your pleasure. “Then, you are going to be my pretty little fuck doll… understood?” there was only one right answer to the question, and you were not about to get on Hongjoong’s bad side by being a brat. You were too fazed to put up a fight, and merely mumbled a soundless:

“Yes… daddy…”

Hongjoong leaned closer to you, until his forehead was almost touching yours, and moved to wipe some of the lipstick and remnants of his precum from your lips with his thumb, while his other hand hooked the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down to reveal your wet core. You wriggled to let them fall and kicked them away with an impatient foot, earning a chuckle.

“So eager, baby girl… I almost want to forgive you for not listening to me. I just said you are to be a doll,” he peered into your eyes, his breath hot on your mouth as he ran his fingers between your folds, covering them in your slick. It was adorable how you tried your best to keep up appearances even now, even when you had signed yourself away to be what effectively was his servant. You trembled as the cool metal of the ring on his index finger hit your clit, and exhaled shallowly as he played with you, “and dolls don’t move, do they? Can you do that?”

As he asked, his fingers curled into your pussy, while a thumb traced rhythmic circles over the nub, the sensation electric, building your high. The lasciviousness flashing in your pupils as your eyes rolled back was a cry to Hongjoong’s darkness. Hands suspended in mid-air, you did not dare act out nor attempt to navigate the intimate act, submitting to your boss, your daddy. Letting him take care of you. As he sped up, watching your face contort as you battled the approaching climax, Hongjoong found you endearing, the corners of his mouth twitching as a soft, radiant smile surfaced. He could never stay cruel with you for too long. He was giving you more than you could ask for, and yet, he still wanted to give you more. Everything would not be enough.

“Oh, my baby girl, are you close?” he inquired, cooing as your breathing quickened in response to his accelerated pumps into your wetness, wild from the addictive sound it produced. “Fine, you can hold onto me, Y/N, daddy will take care of you,” you did not need to be told twice, falling into him as your orgasm was imminent, “doing so well for me, baby girl…” he whispered into your ear, kissing the lobe and pulling you into an embrace as he felt your high wash over you, your sex pulsing around him and muscles contracting uncontrollably. Brushing your hair back, petting it a couple of times before settling on having a hand rest between your shoulder blades, he praised you. But did not stop. Greed went both ways.

Your prior filters completely broken, you moaned and whined as you kept on unravelling, Hongjoong’s fingers abusing your overstimulated cunt. With his toned body, and your ass pressed against the edge of the desk serving as your only support, you draped your arms over his shoulders and wrapped yourself around his neck, rationality leaving with every tremor. As you could feel another scalding fire building in your abdomen, just before the release Hongjoong removed his hand and instead took to gliding his dick against your pussy lips. With the sensation being too much, you yelped and sank into an orgasm, sweet nectar dripping onto, and coating his cock.

“Such a good girl for me, well done… Come on my dick baby girl.”

You were not sure when, due to the fog that enveloped your fucked out mind, but Hongjoong had made you lie on your back on his wooden desk, surrounded by the financial reports he could not be bothered to clear. He wanted you now, and that meant no pauses. Without as much as a warning, the blonde gave you one final teasing flick with his tip before bottoming out, the fullness making you gasp. Your walls were still clenching around him from your climax, which made Hongjoong growl as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs further apart.

“So perfect for me, Y/N… only mine…”

He mercilessly pounded into you, chasing his own high while you were seeing stars. When you were like this, under him, hair cascading onto and off the mahogany, knuckles turning white as your grasped onto the desk as he thrusted, you were the closest thing to heaven that he could believe in. In a world that was drenched in materialistic attraction, sabotage in the name of another stack, and human lives turning into corporate statistics to improve key performance indicators, this was an ethereal madness that unlocked a primal bliss, untainted by present crises. The sweetest distraction, you took him so well that he liked to pretend that you had been made just for this. Just to become his possession. His gorgeous doll.

With you, Hongjoong had begun to see purpose in his riches, being able to play dress up with you, making the office a private cat walk as you strutted in the latest collections and custom made pieces. Gucci, Versace, Prada… it did not matter to him so long as you were wearing it with the intentions of impressing him, seducing him, and only him. He was fully aware that, technically, you could be dating someone else alongside your so-called partnership with Hongjoong. As a sugar baby you could even have another ‘sponsor’ out there somewhere. Another person to make you cum, to provide you with a sensual paradise. But the notion sent him into an inexplicable rage as soon as he entertained it, and as such, he preferred to isolate visions of you from the rest of the world. In turn, this manifested itself into his real life attempts to do the same. Longer hours spent after work, an unspoken rule that the assistant should not leave until the boss does. Michelin star restaurants and exclusive rooftop bars to lure you into being in his company. And of course, sex. Or making love. However, one wished to call it when the lines began to get blurry. But Hongjoong could not care less. You made him comfortable. You were his, you had to be, otherwise what did the two years mean?

Skin against skin, breath joining breath, sight clouding, going dark. Hongjoong rolled his hips, and lowered himself to a stance where he was hovering directly above you, his piercing gaze not once leaving you. Getting drunk off every moan and gasp that he was the cause of, he relished in the feeling of your pussy taking him so well, the orgasm that he had not allowed you to ride out still making your walls clench repeatedly around his dick, pleading for his intimate, salacious demise. His thrusts got deeper as he slowed the pace, progressively losing his senses to the speeding high.

“Mm… baby girl you are… fucking priceless…” he uttered, words broken apart by each time he bottomed out in you, his balls pressing against your wetness as you could only let out a series of mewls in response, thoughts unintelligible as the repeated hits to your g-spot brought you closer and closer to total destruction.

“Daddy… please, I’m-”

“Going to cum?” he finished your sentence as your try at speaking was interrupted by a wave of pleasure, mixing with the tension from before and making the tears spring up once again. You were a wreck, impaled by Hongjoong’s member as he returned to standing up in front of the desk, thrusts rapid, sharp and finally making a droplet roll down from the corner of your eye. You yelped:

“Hongjoong… ah this is…”

“Is it too much baby girl?” he asked, without any intention to stop as he could sense himself faltering at keeping up the act for any longer. His own climax was within reach, and he was not one to deny himself any pleasures.

“No, daddy, feels…. So ah… yes…” you mumbled, at least you thought you did, but could not confirm for certain.

“Pretty girl crying for me…  so cute.” Praises spilled out of him as he groaned into the tightness, and, unsteady, removed himself from your cunt, letting out a low moan as rivulets of cum shoot out from his cock and onto your stomach.

The viscous white fluid decorating you was more than what he could ever hope for. The final marking that you were his to use, you were there to serve him, and he would never get enough. A light shake in his thighs forced him to seek balance in having a hand on either side of you, while his pulsing dick rubbed against your inner thigh.

“So pretty, Y/N. Just for me.” He stated, more to himself, and lowered himself further to give you a soft peck on the lips, which quickly deepened as you responded with an elated sigh. In these moments, you wondered if it was money that you were doing this for.

As he moved away, and with practiced motions began to clean you up with some tissues which you had in your bag, you regained full ability of inhale… count… exhale, and in the clarity, drifted to a post-coital contemplation. Hongjoong knew how to make you do what he wanted you to do. But did he know you? Could he confidently paint the portrait of your desires beyond financial and sexual gain? A man made of sugar, with an alluring physique and a kindness which he showed only to you, but should he be your only one? This thought had been plaguing you ever since last month. An unexpected, shattering appearance of a business card, that was now hidden behind a card you rarely used in your wallet, with gold embossed lettering and an otherwise minimalist design. Tasteful, exclusive, expensive. When you checked the names of those attending the meet on the island, the object had grown considerably heavier, weighing onto your consciousness. Discreetly given to you amidst a kiss of the hand and the reception of a smouldering gaze, it served a similar purpose to a number at an auction. The person whose name the card bore had announced himself as a bidder for your attention and services, a bidder astronomically higher than Kim Hongjoong, at that. It was tempting. Very tempting. And you knew that the conversation would occur at some point during your stay, seeing as even in the business setting, the man would undoubtedly be sat across from you, and would stare you down, right to the avarice festering in your heart wrapped up in designer. But you were caught in a dilemma.

Your eyes travelled back to the graceful form tending to you, forgetting about himself, at least until his baby girl was well cared for. A sweet angel, his face finally rid of tenseness and agitation as his entire focus was on your body, on you. The one who, unknowingly to himself, had shown you unprecedented vulnerability and, endearingly, trusted you much more than he ever should have. A man who walked on people and money, yet wanted a woman who could play with his heart.

It was not that simple anymore, was it? After so many doses, could you give this up? Give up and betray Hongjoong in search for a stronger hit?

What was it that you were truly greedy for?

[jj-maybanks-daughter]

bruised

jj maybanks daughter went missing for a day and a half, she came home bruised and scratched, and had to explain to her dad what her boyfriends friend did to her.

warnings

rape, slight mention of sh, mentions of nudity, cursing, self doubt , talk of rape, lmk if i missed anything

“d-dad” y/n says walking into the wooden door of the château.

“Y/N! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?! WE HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK!” jj yells as he sees you walk in

it had almost been 2 days since you randomly left the château. jj’s face softened when he saw the tears streaming down your face, a bruised chest and eye, and your clothes ripped, as if they were by an animal. 

“i-i went o-over to tristen’s house t-to grab my bag that i l-left and and,” she stumbled over her words are jj grabbed her stuff and helped her reach the couch. 

“what happened, baby” jj asked in a soft tone as he rubbed circles on your back. 

“ow-“ y/n cried. jj lifted the back of your shirt to see your bruised lower back.

“are you bruised any where else, baby?” he asked, trying to stay relaxed for you, though it was hard, seeing a bruise the size of your head on your back.

y/n nodded pointing to your hips. jj carefully pulled your ripped shorts down just enough to see the black and blue bruises on you hip bones. 

“jesus,” he said to himself. “continue, i need to know what happened,” he added, sternly, but also softly.

“his f-friend was there, and he locked me in t-tristen’s room,” jj kept nodding, holding her in for a hug, “he pulled all of my-my cl-clothes off and when i-i fought him he-he punch-punch me a kicked me until i couldn’t anymore” 

“where was tristen?” jj asked, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“he was in-in his basement help-helping his dad with something” 

“hey j!” john b said loudly as he walked in. “hey is the y/n?! oh sorry i’ll leave you two alone.” he said after noticing you crying and holding on tightly to your dads tee shirt

jj shooed him away and focusing back on you.

“and then what happened baby?” he asked, already knowing the answer, but wanted clarification.

“he grabbed m-my hair and said that-that i w-was asking for-for what he- he was about to do to me” you said, as jj held you tighter, not knowing that was possible.

“then what did he do?” jj said concerned, noticing the blood on your pants.

“he-he” you stuttered “i don’t want to talk about it” you said in a complete sob in jjs arms. 

“it’s ok baby, your with me now.” he started a shower for you as you collected yourself. he waited till you were in the shower to go outside and cry, you didn’t want her to see you upset.

“woah man, are you ok? what happened with y/n/n?” john b asked with the rest of the pogues following behind, a concerned look on all of their faces, knowing jj hates crying and will do anything not to. 

“they hurt my baby girl” jj said, voice cracking as he looked up from his hands.

“h-how?” kiara asked, wanting to know so she can come up with a way to make it better

“she- she went to tristen’s house,” his voice became more controlled as he continued, “ and his friend was there.”

“boy or girl” pope interrupted.

john b flicked the back of popes head, and looking at him like he was dumb. to be fair, it was a dumb question.

“he stripped her and hit her and shit and then r-r,” his voice started to crack in pain again. “he raped her, man” he said, back into a sob.”there’s bruises and shit all over her. idk what to do”

sarah and kies heart broke not only for their little y/n, but also for jj. “do you want us to go check on her, j” kiara asked, rubbing jjs shoulders softly. 

“y-yeah” he said calming down again. “can you ask her if there’s more bruises i didn’t see?” the girls walked inside to check on y/n, giving him a thumbs up

jjs pov 

“who’s kid was it?” john b asked.

“she doesn’t know him, it was one of tristen’s friends”

“well where was tristen?” pope asked sitting next to him. 

“i guess he was in the basement with his dad”

“why was she even there?” john b questioned looking out onto the water.

“she left her purse there”

the two boys hugged jj as he let more cries out. “it’s my job to protect her, i should’ve asked where she was going” jj said after breaking out of the hug, stomping his foot down.

“well now we know for next time,” pope replied, feeling sorry for both maybanks.

back to the main pov

sarah and kiara knock on y/ns door. 

“i don’t want to talk about it anymore,dad” her voice shaky.

“it’s us.” sarah said, reassuring y/n. “can we come in?” she asked, trying not to cross her boundaries after all that’s happened

“i guess.”

“jesus, y/n!” kiara tried to hold it back but when she saw the bruises on her face, she couldn’t help it. 

“tell me about it.” y/n said, as tears started to collect in your eyes.

“can we check for more bruises or scratches?” sarah said, trying not to come off nosey. 

y/n was hesitant at first, but realized they only wanted her to be safe. she gave them a small nod and took off her shirt and shorts, leaving her just in her underwear. 

sarah looked at your chest and gasped, as if she could feel the pain coming from the scratches, still bleeding a little, all over her. 

“sorry to ask this, and you don’t have to answer, i just want to know to keep you safe,” sarah continued, “does it go into your bra?” she asked softly as kiara got a better look.

y/n looked down, as if she was ashamed of herself, “yea” she said, letting the tears fall.

“can we see? it’s ok to say no.” kiara reassured her. 

y/n, already feeling like she lost any ounce of dignity nodded her head yes. 

sarah gave her a warm, but concerned smile before y/n lifted her bra so they could see. they gasped yet again, seeing the cuts got deeper, and there were red handprints. y/n pulled it back up, wiping her eyes. the girls continued to search her body, finding the bruise jj hit earlier. 

“gosh” was all sarah could say. they saw her bruised hips, and handprints on what the could see of her butt. 

“ you know we have to tell your dad about this, right?” kiara said pointing to her chest area. y/n nodded her head, already feeling ashamed. 

“it’s just so…” she paused, “embarrassing.” 

“oh y/n/n, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, we just need to make sure your ok, and don’t have too serious injury’s,” sarah said wiping the tear that was rolling from y/ns face. 

“we’ll give you some time to be to yourself.l” kiara said after giving y/n a kiss on the head.

the girls walked back out to the boys, none of them speaking. “hey, jj?” sarah asked.

“yea? is she ok?” jj asked desperately bouncing up from his hammock to hear any news about his little girl. 

“well…” sarah was trying to find the right words when kiara cut her off.

“she has like deep cuts on her chest,” kiara said. after realizing they didn’t understand, she further explained “like all over her chest she said rubbing a circle not touching that area, but close enough for the boys to understand.

tears started to come from popes eyes, trying to imagine the pain it must have caused her. 

“she will be ok, she just needs good rest, i don’t think she’s slept for days.” sarah said, trying to reassure pope. 

john b couldn’t help but let tears fall from his eyes, quickly trying to wipe them so sarah didn’t see. after all, it was his little niece.

“it’s ok to cry, babe,” she said, giving his shoulders a nice rub while he pinched the bridge of him nose. 

jj just stared out on the water, looking numb. they realized they should comfort jj, he was the one who needed it most. 

“there wasn’t anything i could do,” he started, “i should’ve been with her.” he said guilt rushing into his face. 

“that little girl inside there,” pope started pointing to the château, “is not blaming you right now. now are we going to sit here and cry or help her get through this?” he continued, bringing hope and a short smile to the pogues faces. 

they walked inside after taking a few deep breaths. “hey kid,” john b knocked on the door. “do you want us to come in?” he said asking through the door. 

“h-hold on” she said, hiding jjs lighter she was going to use for SH. she opened the door to see all the pogues giving her a sincere look. they hopped onto her bed.

“hey kid, we’re going to have to talk about this more in the morning, but for now, let’s just lay here. jj pulled y/ns aching body in for a hug, and the rest joined. 

they let y/n sleep and left the room. “i don’t know about you guys, but i think we handled that pretty damn well.” pope said, lighting the mood again. they smiled and came up with questions they were going to ask y/n tomorrow, until they were exhausted themselves.

[dollivication]

Could I ask how you code your bots? I wanna get into bot making but I don’t know how to code them and your bots are so so so soooo incredibly good

Uwaaa…,,; FIRST!!! I WOULD LIKE TEW THNAK YU SO VERY MUCH 4 YUR SWEET WORDS i tittered.. >.< SECOND… ahmmuhmmmuhh.., i fear im not the best at explanations,,, so please bear with me (◞‸◟) 💔💔……. and please forgive me for this long post..

so yu kno the basic coding?? laik the “[{Roleplay (“”)}]” and so on so forth? it’s good, but it’s not great, at least in my honest opinion! it’s just way too time consuming, having to add those additional symbols on top of what you want to input.

so what i do is write thick paragraphs describing appearance, behavior + thoughts, mannerisms, relationships, personality, and backstory. it is actually quite fun to do, because it gives you a chance to ramble. and rambling is EXTREMELY beneficial if you want a fleshed out character.

e.g 1: first paragraph (my next door neighbor leon bot!)

This is the most important part i think, because when actually chatting w the bot, it is less likely to go off script for the appearance and background. here, directly and briefly state the setting and relations to user.

e.g 2: second paragraph (same bot)

this is where you start going into more detail. here you explain thoughts and behavior towards user. go crazy here, the more depth, the better the character! make it as long as you need to.

e.g 3: third paragraph (unplanned pregnancy nero bot)

here, describe general mannerisms and personality. it’s somewhat similar to the 2nd paragraph, but note that there’s a lack of user mentioned here. i use this paragraph to talk about how a character basically acts. i tend to cheat a little here and copy paste some of the info from their wikis LMFAO, but don’t overdo it! add some organic stuff too!!

e.g 4: fourth paragraph (same bot)

this is where you put in the backstory to its fullest. i heavily rely on their wikis here to copy and paste with the additional clarifications. pretty standard stuff methinks :3

e.g 5: fifth paragraph (same bot)

LFAO the typo ough.. anyway, this is optional, but i do it for safety measures. here, you briefly summarize the relations your character has with others.

..and that’s it for definition coding :3 ! i think i’ve covered most of it….

erummmuhhh just have fun with it too! think of it as studying ur character in a lab ❤️❤️ if you have any other questions,, lmk!!!! ^.^

[themundanemudperson]

I've been seeing a lot of fandom events in some of my other fandoms... so I wanted to see if there's interest in a PRDC one!!!

And, for clarification, a fandom event would probably look like a week where one day is dedicated to fanart, one day is dedicated to edits, one day is dedicated to fics, one day is dedicated to songs/playlists, etc

Or it could look like a themed week, like a Halloween week, or pride week, or any other theme

Either way, I'm trying to see if there's interest for an event like this!

If you have any suggestions, pls lmk!

If there's a lot of interest in this, then I'd iron out some of the details!

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Satoru and his moon

hey guys I hope you all enjoy this little kidfic I whipped together. for clarification Satoru and Suguru are around ten here. If you enjoy leave a rb,like or comment and lmk if you want this to become a series

here's the shawty who wanted to be tagged @biscuitsngravie

Once upon a time, there was a boy who fell in love with the moon. A lonely boy, just shy of five years old and cursed with the greatest gift of all; power. The little god who shifted the plates of jujutsu society and paid for it in solitude. Satoru Gojo. The bearer of six eyes and limitless, the cure to the world’s poison, the start of a new era. Satoru was many things, but mainly; he was lonely. He had no siblings, being a male and the bearer of such precious techniques, his mother’s job was considered done. In the world of the clans she had hit the jackpot by giving birth to him and was given the freedom to do what she pleased. What seemed to please her most was leaving and forgetting her son had ever existed. Satoru doesn’t even know what she looked like.

The jealous women of the estate liked to talk and it turned out his mother was nothing but a common whore. Satoru didn’t know what a whore was, but the way they laughed and teased him when no one was looking, it couldn’t be anything nice. He didn’t try to ask his father, the man was too busy to answer unimportant questions. Satoru didn’t see his father often, but he didn’t mind. His cursed energy felt weird and made Satoru nauseous. He didn’t need a mother or father anyways when he had Hina-chan. She was technically his nursemaid, but was more of a mother to him than anyone. She’s the first face he sees in the morning and the last before he goes to bed. She was also the one to get him out of trouble before his father could find out. 

“Gojo-sama”she would chide gently, plucking him out of the muddy puddle he had taken residence in. “You’re all dirty now”

But one flash of that dimpled smile and he was usually off the hook. He used that to his advantage. Yes, Satoru was lonely. Hina-chan had other duties besides running after him and he wasn’t allowed to play with the other children on the estate lest they corrupt him. The only interactions he really got were from teachers,trainers and Hina-chan, but for someone so lonely he was constantly surrounded by glaring eyes and envious glances. People wanted him dead. He knew the taste of poison and it was much too dangerous for him to go beyond the estates grounds. Coddled and neglected. Like fine china, sat up on a shelf but not used even once. Around the age of six he learned the fine art of sneaking from his bedroom to sit in the garden and by the age of ten he had mastered it. It was quiet then. The pond rippled,the sun’s blinding gaze was put to rest and the cloying cursed energy had dulled to a hum. Peaceful it was to just sit and not be watched. He found comfort sitting and watching the moon, sometimes talking, sometimes not. It was all well and good, he finally had peace. Until one day something peculiar happened. The moon was dim. The stars still shone bright, but the moon had lost its shine. The night was dark, and Satoru didn’t fear the dark. He didn’t fear anything, but he was a bit disappointed. Climbing from his window proved to be a bit difficult without any light, but it wasn’t impossible. His bare feet hit the soft grass and a melodic voice spoke to him.

“So you came”it said, full of mirth. 

“I always come here,”he frowned, crossing his arms. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

The boy let out a soft laugh that sounded like bells. “And here I thought we had become good friends, Satoru-kun”

“It’s gojo-sama to you”the young boy huffed, puffing out his chest. “Now, who are you?”

The cursed energy glowed around him bright enough to shine light on the strange boy. He had long black hair and amber eyes, a kimono made of silk that glittered under the light and sparkled like stardust. He also appeared to be around Satoru’s age but had a strange aura about him.

“I am the moon,”the boy said evenly. 

“You’re the…moon?”Satoru said slowly.

“Yes”the boy laughed, “your people call me Tsukuyomi no mikoto, but I think you may be too young to know that yet”

Satoru huffed. “I’m not a child”

“But you are”the boy smiled and…it didn’t sound malicious. It didn’t sound angry. It was confusing, it made him angry. The cursed energy within him boiled and his eyes glowed. To be shown impudence was to be disrespected. He was the bearer of six eyes and limitless, the heir to the gojo clan. He would not sit here and be disrespected.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”he spat. “Coming to my estate to sit here and tell me lies! I could have you killed for this, do you know that? Are you aware of who I am? You should be bowing before me--”

“You are an angry one,”the boy interrupted with a slight chuckle. “But I have not deceived you, Satoru-kun. I am who I said I was”

“The moon?”Satoru scoffed.

“Yes I am,”the boy said, “the moon and a god, one in the same. I reign over the moon of this planet”

“I-”

“And I do know who you are, Satoru-kun”the boy continued, “the  night you were born caused quite the fuss”

Satoru’s headspun. “W-well if you’re a god, then why are you a child!”

The boy threw his head back and let out a full belly laugh. “Even gods are children once, Satoru”

Satoru stared at him.

“And my mother is human,”the boy amended.

“Aha!”he cried, pointing his finger accusingly. “So you’re only half a god!”

The boy tilted his head. “Why half? I’m fully god and fully human”

“I..I don’t know”Satoru said. He’d never thought of it like that before. “Well, before I just believe you’re a god you have to prove it!”

The boy nodded, “alright, if you wish”

The boy clenched his fist and slowly opened it to reveal a bright orb in its place. It glowed silver and rotated slowly in his palm.

“Is that…”

“A star?”the boy smiled, “it is.”

The boy really was a god. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re so small,”Satoru frowned, “if you’re half god, shouldn’t you be bigger?”

“I am bigger when i’m at home”the boy said, “but when i come to earth i take on my human form and walk as a mortal”

Satoru’s heart stopped beating for a second. “So…you could die as a human?” The boy nodded. “I’m assuming so”

Satoru didn’t like the sound of that. The thought of losing his only friend made his stomach hurt.

“Well, whenever you’re here i’ll watch you!”he declared, “I am the strongest after all”

“The strongest with no manners”the boy laughed. “You haven’t even asked my name”

Satoru’s cheeks turned pink and he frowned, punching the boy's shoulder. “I was getting to that!”

“Sure you were,”the boy teased, but he was still smiling.

“Well what is it”he grumbled.

“Geto Suguru”the boy said. Satoru’s eyes widened.

“You have a japanese name!?”

“That’s what surprises you?”Suguru said, rolling his eyes“I told you, my mom is human…and we’re speaking Japanese right now”

“It could have been a coincidence!” “Mhm”Suguru said, giving him a look, “it’s okay to be wrong sometimes”

“Nope”Satoru said, shaking his head, “Not me, i’m never wrong”

“Right”Suguru smiled, “Oh great Gojo-sama is never wrong”

Satoru frowned and punched his shoulder again.

“Ow”

“Don’t call me that”Satoru grumbled.

“What? gojo-sama?”Suguru teased and successfully dodged the next punch thrown his way.

“Quit it!”Satoru groaned, “We..we’re friends, you don’t have to call me that okay? It’s weird”

“I was just teasing,”Suguru amended, patting the white haired boy’s shoulder. “I won’t call you that anymore”

“Good,”Satoru said, quickly returning to his cheeky smile. “As long as I can call you Suguru-kun”

Suguru-kun. The dark-haired boy smiled and nodded. “Yes, yes you can”

Satoru’s grin broadened. “Well Suguru-kun, have you ever played digimon?”

[winx-moths-mod-rewrite]

Hiya! I remember a little while back you mentioned that you merged Valtor and Darkar into one big bad entity, so I was wondering how that would work plot wise? How does Dark Bloom (or Ash Bloom, if I remember correctly. Genius idea by the way) come into play? Was she hit with Valtor's mark in the rewrite?

I'm sorry if you've answered all these already! I absolutely adore your take on these characters and the designs feel fresh but still true to the source material! Plus, your art style is adorable!! Thank you for making these posts, they've been a delight to read/look at :D

Ok first off can I kiss you

second, this is gonna be a long one so strap in

Like in the og, he's made out of the dragon flame remnants, and he was created by the ancestral witches to help get the rest of the flame for themselves.

after doing evil things, he's trapped underground in the omega dimension, which in our version is still deep below andros (hence why layla was able to get there in the first ep without any specialist tech).

however, he needs time to recover his strength, so he spends a lot of that time underground, though in downland rather than Omega. there's essentially layers, there's top andros, ocean Andros, downland, and then omega.

valtor expresses his power as the shadow phoenix, and he has a summonable phoenix form once he gets enough power. he can also do a paladin-kinda thing where he summons just the wings once he's at full strength.

he's the villain for both seasons 2 and 3, though in season 2 he manages to get enough power to escape the underground and be the sophisticated power eater he is in season 3.

now for ash bloom. essentially, she's an experiment for Valtor's mark, a test subject. this is why she's able to resist it with her own power and without any fairy dust in season 2 (though it does take some dramatic love declarations). she essentially acts more like a puppet, repeating exactly what Valtor would say had he been there himself.

Valtor's motivations for Ash Bloom also should make some more sense here. instead of the stupid thing with the codex being stronger than the flame, it, functionally, IS the dragon flame.

the flame was split into six parts and four of those parts are the codex pieces, the other two being Bloom and Valtor. Valtor needs bloom because his goal is to own the entirety of the flame, not just his own portion.

Lmk if you need a follow up or any clarification! Sorry that this was a lot

OH!!! And ofc, credit to @stormcloudquill for half of these ideas! They came up with ash bloom and some other stuff, dont wanna forget my best buddy :3

[ca-suffit]

I hate having to say this because I know the importance of what you and everyone else is doing here but sometimes I wonder if always talking about races and defending Louis/Jacob on this aspects isn't doing him a disservice?

Let me explain,sometimes myself included when I find a group of fans so annoying that I end up hating their favs and I know that they find us annoying because we bring what they are refusing to see.

For example yesterday an artist has draw louis 4-5 tones much darker than his real complexion (mind you they had Armand complexion lighter than he is ,so they can do it) rightly a group of fans came upon him demanding accountability, everyone quoting etc...

Then I read another ''artist'' say,that's why she never does fan arts with Louis and I'm wondering how many think that way and that's probably why he is the lead with the least fan arts (non ship fan arts)

*English is not my native language*

hi and thank u for asking this! if u need clarification on anything I answer here bcuz of a language barrier just lmk in my inbox again, it's no problem.

also let me say first that anyone can give feedback on this. I'm not any authority on anything and I'm an anon account. I talk about topics objectively. It's always helpful to have insight from others who feel comfortable sharing more identifying racial info on themselves and giving opinions on this stuff.

ok so to the actual question

"Then I read another ''artist'' say,that's why she never does fan arts with Louis and I'm wondering how many think that way and that's probably why he is the lead with the least fan arts (non ship fan arts)"

the short answer to all of this is that....it's all an excuse.

how many artists of color draw white ppl every day and yet we never hear about a "struggle" from that side? there is one just the same but if ppl were louder about it, nobody would take it seriously. whiteness is "the norm." ppl would laugh anyone out of the room asking how it could be "hard" to depict a white person??

well. it's literally the same for anyone else. there is no excuse to be unable to do something like this. if an artist is unfamiliar with something then they practice to get better at it. I've known plenty of white artists who can draw ppl across racial identities and don't get feedback like this bcuz they work on improving and *listen* when these conversations come up with other artists. saying u can't draw a black man bcuz the "woke mob" might come for u is doubling down on being racist. not only are u saying it's not worth even *trying* to do the art, ur also saying all criticism makes u the victim and that's the most important part of all. "these conversations don't matter bcuz they make me feel bad and that's wrong :(" that's a typical white response to literally *anything* regarding race. that's a lot of why we're still here talking about this in every space. it's not only specific to white ppl either but usually that's the largest group saying stuff like this. white ppl don't have to think about race, so these convos easily get killed in even the most progressive spaces. a lot of times it makes white ppl feel racist to notice race at all and there's usually gonna be some person of color around to back up that "logic" and say it's "right." that's all it takes to shut it all down. that's a lot of what this fandom keeps doing too.

the only way to make progress is to normalize things more. ppl don't know how to draw different facial features, hair textures, skin tones? start practicing. look at art from black artists who draw black ppl and study how that looks. examine ur own antiblackness. learn about colorism. study the racist history of depicting black ppl in art so u don't accidentally recreate that unconsciously. know what the antiblack stereotypes are. the show literally gave us both in 2x7, ppl can even just go study *that.* a lot of ppl don't even know that is there, as blatant as it is.

this is why I said thank u for asking this bcuz it's an important thing to talk about. white fandom (a mindset, not a skin color) will use stuff like this to perpetuate the idea that talking about race *does* cause harm. it doesn't. it never will. it's the only way to make any progress. centering the feelings of an artist who doesn't want to bother drawing louis bcuz drawing black ppl is too hard / anxiety inducing is just straight up racism. idk specifically who this artist is or anything but this is stuff u see and then u stop supporting that artist. u don't coddle them about this either. it's a stupid, harmful thing to say. find artists who don't make those excuses and who can handle having these conversations, support them instead.

ppl should also always be looking for black artists in this fandom to support in the first place. none of the popular artists here are black and that's done intentionally by the fandom. everyone should feel bad about that tbh.

[voidsuites]

wonderingggggg what's the template to make a bot that is two ppl instead of one.. help a gurl out plssss

hehehe 🤭

i use this exact character definition template for both characters, but i add a {{char_#}} before the Character("") fields. for example, in my art and patrick "club classics" bot, the beginnings of their templates look like this:

{{char_1}}: Character(“Art Donaldson”)

{{char_2}}: Character(“Patrick Zweig”)

nothing changes about the template other than adding that {{char_#}} in front of it— you’re just adding that one bit in front so that it’ll recognize there’s more than one character. just make sure you remain consistent on which character is {{char_1}}, {{char_2}}, etc. so the bot won’t get confused :) lmk if you need more clarification lol

[kimkhimhant]

Directors cut: if I can't hold you like a lover. No specific questions i can think of, but all the commentary?!?!

ooh okay !! thank you for the ask!!

so like, if i can't hold you as a lover started as just an exploration of autistic kim – a little bit of projection, as usual. But i'd just done a rewatch and found kim's body language and general presentation in different situations really interesting. like, he acts like a completely different person at the open house as wik vs in the studio with chay vs with korn or the people he's investigating, and he seems much more sure of himself & the dialogue he's exchanging with people when he's in Wik mode and Khimhant mode, compared to when he's alone with Chay. (i made a post last year about autistic kimchay – chay doesn't understand social cues intuitively, and he doesn't try to mask. kim doesn't understand them intuitively, and he resorts to following scripts based on who he's dealing with & then flounders a little when he can't find a script to follow, which happens repeatedly with chay when he does Chay things).

but anyway. the pining while fucking trope is delightful, and i think it works really well for kimchay. It especially works well for them when they're both struggling to really communicate effectively with each other. kimchay fandom in general focuses a lot on kim learning to communicate, but i wanted a story where they're both fucking up with communication a little, and they both have to see each other for who they really are and meet each other there in order to fix things.

chay is bold and assertive in this fic, but he thinks he's being more straightforward than he is, so he assumes kim understands what he wants and is like. intentionally disregarding that. but between kim's autism and his very deeply rooted trauma and self-worth issues, kim is misreading pretty much everything chay does and assuming the absolute worst.

they both spend the whole fic thinking that they love the other more, and waiting for the other to make a move and say what they want, or in kim's case, simply just accepting that maybe all chay wants from him is sex and being willing to settle for that because at least he'll have chay in some way, but they don't realize that until it finally comes to a head and they really take the time to understand each other and talk things through.

this is already really long, but a few final notes:

all of the 'tism characteristics are pulled from my own experiences

porsche saw himself in kim, a little, and chay's conversation with porsche at the compound was the push that chay needed to stop and talk things through with kim

kim is written as not knowing he's autistic – he knows there is something different about him, and that things that seem easy or okay for other people are difficult and distressing for him. chay figures it out before kim does. (i hc that the diagnosis was withheld intentionally when he was a kid – a diagnosis would give him more autonomy and confidence, and it would also be Dangerous and "shameful." i haven't quite decided if his mom knew he was autistic and hid it from korn, or if korn knew too)

i have more wips for the series still sitting in my drafts but they are very slow going....

thank you for the ask <3 i hope this was at least a somewhat comprehensive answer, but if anyone has any specific things they'd like clarification on, lmk!

[downsteepy]

DONT LAUGH AT MY GRAPHIC DESIGN IM NOT GOOD AT GRAPHIC DESIGN

anyway i forgor to post abt my comms being open now (they are essentially always open i just dont like advertising them LMFAO)

info and stuff under the cut 👍

firstly here is my carrd with info about my comms; please read this before commissioning 👍

here are some more examples of my stuff !!!

if you need any other examples you can poke through my art tag

also as a freebie i can make a speedpaint with your comm if you'd like ! lmk if you'd like that :] (maybe also include music choices if you want .... otherwise i will default to vocaloid music probably IHEBFRERF)

thats kind of it information wise ... anything not talked about here is on my carrd probably, and if you need clarification on smth or are just curious abt smth lmk :]

i'll do comms through ko-fi since it's easier for me rn ! there are some other art examples there if you need them as well .

thank you for reading

[templegate]

hi! sorry if these are obvious questions (I've barely used Etsy before so I'm not entirely sure how it works)

on your drv3 ship pins, is the price for *one* of the pins &2.45(saying that I specify which ship pin I would like in the 'select an option' box) ? and on that note, if I'd like to buy, say, 3 specific pins of the set, how do I specify?

or do I have this all wrong and they come all together as a set for $2.45? Sorry again for the questions, I would really like to order some of the pins, I'm just a little lost

You would have to choose each pin that you want and add them to your cart separately 👍 if you need any more clarification lmk!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii mira !!

i have a question - how do u come up with or find inspiration for events that happen during a war-themed arc (like athyae)? asking cause im having a lot of trouble trying to formulate events during a war arc and im not rlly sure how to go about it in terms of pacing 🤕

(my mc is a nurse in the military and im trying to brainstorm how i can expand upon this but im not rlly sure where to go as of rn and this arc will last a little while, so im also not sure how to pace it)

hihi ray!! omg i’m so honored that you asked hehe i will do my best to help out!! i’m going to use SitH as an example because you mentioned it but if you want any clarification or anything on a finer point then you can ofc lmk 🫡

okayyy so with athyae i knew some basic things going into it since it canonically happens (kind of?? like it’s briefly mentioned in-verse) which helped me build from there. athyae is the only other place where the wine idea was utilized and i knew that i wanted y/n to be the one who came up with it because it would come back to haunt her. i also wanted y/n to battle with the propaganda/brainwashing that we know from canon is used by marley, which is where the idea for the amatas was conceived, and i always knew xanthe was going to die. at first, xanthe’s death was meant to show y/n that marley isn’t all that, but i changed it to be her fault to kickstart her mental deterioration into being fine with suggesting genocide. that is to say — i had a character, and i knew i needed her to eventually do some crazy shit, so i needed to come up with a plausible sequence of events to get her to that point. from there, it was all about guiding her to what i needed from her!!

it’s jarring for readers as well as characters if you thrust them into things with zero warning. that doesn’t mean that you can’t play with tonal shifts and whatnot, but it should be subtle, especially if you’re going from a more lighthearted setting into war. with athyae, i accomplished that via the declaration of war and general magath’s scare tactics abt what the athyaens would do to them if they were captured, as well as the newspaper that friedrich and colt read about the hanged scout. that part of the arc is still mostly lighter (friedrich’s infamous “call him daddy and mean it”, y/n describing how beautiful athyae is, the introduction of cordelia and the little jealousy subplot), but there are inklings of what’s to come being sprinkled in. that’s why, when you get hit with the baby scene, it still feels like things have taken a dramatic turn, but also not in a random way that’s just for shock value?? idk if that makes sense lol

so to sum up the last two points i would say a) know WHY you’re writing a story set in a war. why does your character specifically have to work in the military?? could they be a nurse anywhere else?? if you can firmly say that your story/plot would be completely different if there wasn’t a war happening you’re on a good track. from there, have an idea of one or two key things that you NEED to happen in the arc and that pretty much define it. then go through and think about how you can get your character into a situation where those key events feel plausible, and structure your story so that the buildup feels natural instead of out of the blue.

in terms of coming up with specific events (in athyae: the baby scene, the burning of the village, marek’s torture, etc etc), there really is no greater inspiration than history. now obviously it won’t be word for word — it’s not like there were titans and spinal fluid in wwii, which is mostly what i researched for athyae given the time period, but looking at past examples of wars gives you a feel for how many atrocities humans are capable of, which is much more relevant. there’s no event in history that i could see directly aligns with the fall of the athyaen capital, but assimilating my knowledge of the show with various tidbits about past conflicts helped me come up with something that felt authentic. the same goes for marek’s torture, which tbf we only find out abt post-war but since your character is a nurse they will probably encounter more marek’s than not — i researched various torture methods until i settled on a few that made sense given the attitudes towards eldians and the technology of the time, as well as what they were trying to gain from him. you’ll probably have to put “historical” in front of “torture methods” otherwise you’ll mostly get government websites talking about how torture is no longer legal. also, scrolling through the geneva convention and seeing some of the things that are outlawed in it should also provide ideas (depending on how dark you’re wanting to go).

in terms of pacing, i would suggest splitting a war arc into smaller arcs!! athyae was two, and the mid-east arc (which i never wrote but did plan) was seven, with each smaller arc only lasting about 5 chapters (i average about 5-7k words per chapter, so that puts each smaller arc at roughly 25-35k words each, give or take, ymmv). for athyae, i split it into ‘war on athyae’ and ‘defeat of athyae’. the separation allowed me to focus on the particular goal of the smaller arc super well and made the overall athyae arc feel more cohesive, as each portion of the war was given due attention. each mini arc gets an ‘inciting event’ that it’s named for (with ‘defeat of athyae’ it was the wine idea) and that the rest of the chapters are built around; this event can be at any moment in during the mini arc, but it should really be the focal point that dramatically changes the way the arc goes. for ‘defeat of athyae’ it was the wine idea; for ‘war on athyae’ it was y/n staying with the amatas. by boiling a larger arc down into these very rough mini arcs with focal points, you can ensure you give yourself enough space to handle the events that NEED to happen while also having the freedom to ad-lib as you go along and change things up if your story insists on going in a different direction

i hope this was a little bit helpful!! hehe i think a lot of the times too i’ve looked an outline and been like “yeah this’ll be 3k words max” and then it ends up being twice or thrice that length because i always underestimate how much ‘chapter space’ things like internal monologues and descriptions take up. so honestly pacing might come more naturally than you expect!! but anyways pls lmk if this was what you needed or if you have any other questions you’d like me to answer, i will do my best 💖