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lovemomhatepolice · 9 months ago

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charles leclerc nswf alphabet (part 1) (minors DNI!)

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) This boy is golden! Really, no matter how hard his day was, he will still try to make you feel great. One time it will be a whole ritual, and another time it will simply be a conversation while cuddling. Believe me - Charles will never leave you without a proper appreciation. B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His favorite part of the body at his place is definitely his hands. He likes the fact that they are quite strong and not badly built, by the exercises he has to do as a professional race car driver. He loves it when you latch onto them or grab his arm when you're going somewhere. He also loves to show you his muscles for fun himself, because he knows it will make you grin hugely. In general, I think Charles is a person who likes his looks. Let's not kid ourselves, he is a damn handsome man. As for you, Charles loves your hands and cheeks the most. Hm, hands because, as he says, they are terribly delicate and small compared to his own. That's why you have nothing to worry about when glass breaks somewhere - Leclerc won't let you touch it. And God forbid that you would still get hurt somewhere! Cheeks? He loves to kiss you there. He loves the fact that your cheeks are so cuddly, he can't stop stroking them and even playfully pinching them. When he kisses you, that's where his hands are most often. Well, and let's not forget what happens at your place when no one is looking…. Charles is proud of his size. He's not too small, he's not too big - in fact, he's perfect for you. And that's what makes him most happy. And in your case, well, Charles is a fan of your breasts. You used to think buttocks, but no. They are definitely breasts. Charles loves to lie on them, gently kiss them…. Even the very sight of them pleases him, which you find quite amusing. C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Charles doesn't like the mess. His entire house is cleaned, his clothes are neatly ironed, and there is not a single stain of dirt on his car. He has the same when having sex with you. It may sound rather funny, but Charles is definitely not the kind of person who will let your juices spill out uncontrollably. He has to have everything under control, which is why I don't feel he's a fan of slurping on your buttocks or breasts. If you happen to be giving him a blowjob, he also won't be the type to make even one drop of cum appear on your flawless face. D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Charles, Charles, Charles. Hm, sometimes it seems to me that he is the type of person who can think to himself at the least expected moments about how his day with you today will end. Regardless of where he is - whether it's having dinner with his family or singing the Italian national anthem after Ferrari's win.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Everyone is well aware that Charles has had several partners in his life, with whom he has been with for an extended period of time. You know it too - and from him and the media. Also relevant here is the fact that Charles is already 27 years old this year, so he has not been a virgin for a long time. It can be said of Charles that he is experienced, but not in a bad way. F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Missionary. Well, let's not lie to ourselves, Charles loves to watch your face as it changes in the flush of pleasure he gives you during sex. He can give you kisses in this position, whether it's on the lips or on your neck. The missionary position gives him many options - he can be gentle, but also rough. G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Leclerc is definitely more serious than silly during your sex. For him, this is the moment of your connection, where he feels exactly everything he can and desires, so I don't think he approaches it in a goofy way. He likes it to be intimate and tender. H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Charles is definitely shaved down to nothing. Yes, as I mentioned - the man likes cleanliness, so he also puts his own personal hygiene and just doesn't grow his hair down there. As for you I think that there are not some rigid prohibitions and orders, but he would probably prefer that you also do not have a bush down there. Especially since he is a person who likes to give you pleasure, so it definitely won't be super comfortable for him. But a little hair definitely doesn't change anything. I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) As I mentioned - Charles is a nightmarishly romantic person. He loves to make you a flower bath so that you can use it together, of course. And you can't even count how many times your man has prepared a romantic bed for you, only to then quickly get rid of it…. but it's the initiative that counts, right? What's more - Charles loves to give you compliments and show you himself how good you are to him at the moment. J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Mostly, he doesn't need to pleasure himself, because you are eternally close to each other and both of you have the desire at similar moments. However, when you really aren't somewhere for a long time, because, for example, you couldn't go with him because of your own affairs, you do it at a distance with each other. I don't think he's the kind of person who would watch pornographic movies. K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Breeding kink!!! Charles is already at such an age that thoughts of having children are becoming more and more prevalent in his mind, and your appearance in his life has definitely exacerbated this, as before even these thoughts did not appear so often in his life. God, yet if he ever sees you with some child…. You definitely need to be ready for his many questions about children and the possibility of going off the pill. Of course he doesn't push, but he can strongly show you what he wants. L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He traditionally enjoys your sex when it takes place on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment. Because of how recognizable he has become, Charles appreciates privacy. But let's not make him such a bore anymore. Countertops in the kitchen? Oh definitely. He himself doesn't know why, but he loves to fuck you in the kitchen, when your back arch... And in his cars!!! You might think they are sacred to him, but with whom better to make them stop being so saintly than with you? M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Oh, our Charles doesn't seem to be someone who needs a lot to get excited. All you have to do is bend over in front of him in a skirt or show too much of your breasts, and his mind starts to think about what you will do tonight...

A/N: part two is already here!!

i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charlesleclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc

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sordidmusings · 2 months ago

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How to Break Rules (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Art by xuchuan25 on x!

TUMBLR ATE THE FUCKING ASK WHEN I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT 🙃 luckily I had it saved in my doc and it was anon so they wouldn't have been notified anyway

Anon Ask: Crocodile doesn't seem like the type to kiss during sex unless he's down bad. Maybe he starts a casual relationship with a strict "no kissing on the lips" rule but anywhere else is fair game. It's fun to think of the different ways a possible "first kiss" could happen when he's already rawed you lol and the different reactions if he initiates it or you do and whether it's spur of the moment or calculated.

A/N: OOOOOOOOOO love this and have actually come across this in my own travails haha as someone who loves service, there is such a rush in being told “you can kiss me anywhere but my lips; you have to earn that” 😩 Like it’s just dangling that fruit of how much of a rush it’ll be when you earn the right, when you’re told you’ve been so good for so long. It is also kind of a wild and intense dynamic to be in to have done So Much Stuff but not a simple kiss 💀💀💀

I will also say that I have a WIP smut request in this vein that has been FIGHTING ME FOR MONTHS 🥲 except it’s reader who has put down the rule of “no kissing” and the reason is because love is a requirement for it. Hoping this exercise helps get more flowing for continuing that beloved behemoth 🙏🏻 Ficlets and thoughts in bulleted form below! They get longer as they go because that’s what tends to happen for me lol

Word Count: ~3k total over a few scenarios and such

Warnings: brief allusions to sex but nothing nsfw, gn!reader, not actually unrequited love, a few flavors of reader personality, from very bratty to docile, for dynamic variety 🤌🏻, jealousy/possessiveness

Goodies below the cut - dig in (‘∀’●)♡

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

At first I was a bit clinical in my brainstorming of this, more stuck on the grid of who does it to who

He kisses you

Involuntarily

Poor croc is finally at his limit in keeping his lips from yours and being so deep in indulging in all the rest of you is his undoing. Every piece of you feels so good even though every moment with you is agony - agony from having you but not all of you, being with each other but not belonging to each other. He was Tantalus and you were his fruit and drink, always slipping just past his fingertips. If he could taste you, share your breaths, feel your voice, then maybe he’d finally stop wasting away.

On purpose

You’ve been vexing him with your teasing, always gifting him the touch of your soft lips everywhere but his own. He didn’t want to be the one to fold on his own rule, but no matter how loose he got your mind, how far you were from forming words, how pliant and placating, you’d kiss him and kiss him and kiss him but never his lips. It didn’t matter if he hovered his own over yours close enough to taste your voice on the air, you’d never push forward. It was maddening.

One day he finally barks at you after you turn your face away, “Why do you always run?”

You answer, confused and honest, “You told me I wasn’t allowed.”

The response is a hook at your neck, pulling you closer; a hand in your hair, cradling you; a mouth on your own, consuming you.

A promise to you that you’re truly his

This Sir Croc warms more to the idea of you being his with no qualms stemming from his own pride.

It took a long while, but your home in Croc’s life was built brick by brick, sure and steady and obvious. He noticed it and kept an eye on it like he did with everything, but he did not reject nor rush it. No, it was inevitable beyond his will, the way you slipped into his head and chest and nested there. No stubbornness would stop the way it warmed him. No clinging would allow you deeper into a space that was always meant to be yours. As he first noticed the foundation you’d set, saw the promise of his future in your care and vision, he knew he was meant to exist next to you.

He waited for this understanding to sink in you too. It never did.

No matter his well-thought gifts, steadfast support, or opulent compliments, you never pressed to take more promises from him than he offered himself, never set to make claim to him outside of closed doors. He knew he had to change that.

The thought possesses him the next time he brings you around with him and someone has the gaul to approach you. They ask about why Croc keeps you so close to see if they had a chance to stick to your side instead. That won’t do.

Croc stalks over quickly, seeping dominance but not quite aggression. When he gets to you, he places a weighty hand on your right shoulder and leans over the left, fully encasing you in his presence.

All the other man sees is the threat leaning over your shoulder and he scatters before you can finish saying “-my boss.”

Much happier with Croc surrounding you, you lean back into his warm chest. A low chuckle plays with the hair around your ear, causing you to shiver in delight.

“A boss? Is that all I am to you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his deep voice, one steeped in deep fondness.

“Of course not,” you assure. He guides you to turn with his hook under your chin, letting his fingers tickle the back of your neck to your other shoulder as you spin to face him. The smile on your lips is easy and familiar and softens Croc into clay, ready and happy to be molded into whatever you want. Yet you always just ease him back into his own shape, each time with fewer cracks and dents, waiting for him to be as solid as he’d like for when he enters the kiln.

“Then tell me, dear,” his voice is as warm and rich as the purple of his eyes. He pulls his cigar from his lips with two fingers. You watch his lips as he speaks. “What am I?”

Before the falter in your smile can fully steal it away, Croc slips forward to taste it on your lips. You freeze and Croc snakes his hook behind your neck to pull you forward, but by the time it gets there you’re already pressing into him. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t savor the feeling of finally belonging fully to each other.

You kiss him

Power Move

Sir Croc never seemed able to control you and he loved and loathed it in equal parts. It’s one of the reasons he sought you in the first place. You knew exactly when to push and when to follow, when to challenge and when to submit. It was a very rare day when you genuinely got on his nerves.

Today is a very rare day.

You’re clearly upset with Sir Croc - not leaning into his affection, barely answering his attempts at conversation, unwilling to look at his face for more than a second. More than anything you refuse to tell him what’s wrong.

Now, you’re not doing it just to piss him off; you don’t feel quite allowed to be upset about the issue so you don’t want to share. You don’t want to have an attitude but every time you see him it reminds you of the realization that you’d do anything for him. Worse than that, that thought was immediately followed by the Knowing that you aren’t his and the uncertainty that you ever will be.

Right now, you feel like you’re not his to have, but his to use.

Though, he does give you special treatment. He lets you closer to him than any others, treats you with gentleness except when you corner him into using a firm hand. He’s never even used his power over you when it’s not for play and pleasure. Except for one little rule.

No kissing on the lips.

You thought you’d earn it months ago. You’ve earned everything else, every sweet treatment and treasure you could think of will be yours if you ask it of him. He’s come to spoil you even more rotten than a queen with her fat lap dog, and yet you’ve not gotten a single kiss to the lips.

It’s begun to feel like he’s keeping it from you to let you know he’ll never fully give himself to you because he never fully intended to keep you. And it hurts.

And now he’s mad because you’re mad but you can’t tell him why you’re mad and the whole thing is maddening.

You watch him knock the ash off his dwindling cigar into the ornate ceramic tray on his desk. The heavy sigh accompanying it annoys you. Why is he the one sighing?

Oh, now he’s rubbing at his temple. He thinks he’s frustrated? You’ll show him frustration.

“Should I go?” You ask, peeking at him from the corner of your narrowed eyes.

“Do you want to go?” Croc rebuts, sounding confounded and at the end of his rope.

You eye him unhappily.

Instead of responding, you stand up from the leather sofa across from his grand desk. It’s a decent distance, two chairs to its sides are placed closer, but of course you chose to sit away from him today. It’s to your advantage now; you need space for your next move.

You make your way to him slowly, swerving your hips smoothly the way he likes and adding a teeny bit of weight to each step - both to be closer to stomping and to have the motion give a slight bounce to all the soft parts of you for him to watch.

And watch he does - his face melts into the hungry admiration he saves for you, albeit still a bit guarded.

When you get to his desk, instead of addressing him you gracefully gather the papers spread across it into your hands. You take a moment to pretend to scan through and consider them, only to frisbee them onto one of the chairs.

Croc’s eyes turn sharp and burning.

“Brat-” he cuts himself off, looking at your face and picking up that you’re having even less fun than he is. He sucks in a tense breath and hisses it back out. Let’s try that again.

“Am I working too much and you need more attention? Is that why you’re having a fit?”

Good enough.

“If I was having a fit, the whole base would know,” you bite back at him.

Instead of arguing or redirecting, Sir Croc settles on watching you. Nothing’s worked, so he’ll just allow you to take this wherever it’s headed.

You plant your palms on his desk and let the quiet linger. He lets you lean into his space and stare him down. He’s unsure what you’re looking for and honestly so are you. You’re unsure if you find it but you do find some fortitude in the settling air. You finally speak up.

“Do you remember the rule you set when we started this…” your eyes flit around, searching for the right word, “agreement?”

“No kissing on the lips unti-”

Your hand is fisted in his shirt, your lips are warm and insistent against his.

You expect anger, pulling back, or even shoving hands. Instead, Croc is scrambling out of his seat, careful to keep your lips locked, and helping you to clamber over the desk towards him with a greedy grip. You won’t be free from his taste or hold the whole night through. Now that they’ve had you, they’ll haunt you all your days, keeping him alive with each time they possess you.

You sneak your way into it

Sir Crocodile doesn’t get to enjoy late risings often. That’s why he makes sure to wring them of all they’re worth, and that’s only become better with you there.

Knowing that the morning lacked a rude awakening, you both indulged in a night of the senses - seeing the sights, hearing live music, eating and drinking with abandon before coming home to get your fill of each other in all five senses, especially touch.

As Sir Croc comes back to his body, floating from the abyss of sleep one breath at a time, he finds his sense of touch being coaxed and teased. Gentle fingers brush across his skin along familiar trails made to map and admire his large form. They round over muscles, press into places of softness, tickle at the sensitive skin of his wrist, his blunted forearm, his hips, his neck.

The touches all feel so full of adoration and something else he’s felt more and more from you. He’s finding it harder and harder to ignore, especially because he’s used to adoration and there’s something different in yours - something softer, gentler, surer. Something he is sure by now is genuine love.

Each time it comes out he lets it wash over him as best he can without solidifying its bond. After all, this was never meant to be love.

But feeling your affection made it impossible to ignore how much better life would be if he always woke up with you.

Sir Croc encourages more of your touches, following them where he could and bedding his cheek into the top of your head. You happily snuggle deeper against him and his heart leaps.

Knowing he’s awake, you begin placing sweet kisses against his skin, teasing at the edge of his trimmed chest hair. He lets out a long breath with the undertone of a content groan rumbling through it. You smile against the plush of his pec, happy he’s still fuzzy from sleep and primed for your plot

Your lips trail and massage higher, over clavicle and to neck. He tilts his jaw away to give you free reign of the sensitive skin from his throat to his ear. Your thigh mimics the rising of your lips, trailing slow and tender over Croc’s front until it brushes from his thigh to his stomach. The rise and fall with his breathing is calming under you and the steadiness made it easier to notice when his breathing hitched and his muscles twitched against you.

His hand returned your affection mindlessly, simply following whatever instinct compelled him. Mostly it trailed from the nape of your neck to your hip and back, taking small moments to press you closer when he didn’t want one of your kisses to move quite yet.

Everything was deep breaths echoing against skin, the comforting pressure of bodies melding wherever you touched, the dance of give and take with affection. Each place you pushed your love, Croc opened himself to feel more of it, even when you left his shoulder chest and neck to explore his scarred cheek

He doesn’t even hesitate to let you near when you first trail the tip of your nose over the strong angle cut by his jaw. The barely there stubble blended to a moment of pure softness before being interrupted by the ridges of his scar

Croc is fully and willingly enchanted by your soft and smooth actions. He couldn’t bear to make you stop, couldn’t care for any pretense or boundary of his it would break so long as you don’t stop touching him so sweetly. His whole body feels light and alive and he’s struck with the realization that he’s as in deep as you are.

You place your first kiss to his face on his scar where it cuts across his cheekbone. He presses just a millimeter deeper into the plush of your lips

You follow the path of the scar, feeling his lashes tickle the tip of your nose on your way. All the while Croc keeps his languid caresses going on your skin, still lulled by recent sleep and the comfort of your touch and warmth and the want for more.

When you get to the bridge of his nose, you break contact to press your foreheads together. His hand slips up your back to rest at the back of your neck, holding you to him. You bump your nose on his and he bumps back. You tilt to leave a kiss on his cheek. His finger tail up to softly scratch at the base of your skull. You smile against him and feel his own cheek rise momentarily against you.

Sir Crocodile feels more free of thought and obligation than he has in years. Your slow acts of worship have brought out a peace in him that he’s rarely known. There is no rush or push, just a calmness and sureness that this is where he should be and how he should feel. That you both belong here.

And then something changes when you kiss right outside the corner of his lip.

He is left wanting.

You linger at the spot before moving just barely away and coming back just a hair closer to his own lips.

Each near miss felt unnatural and unsatiating, quickening his heart and breath in his discomfort and discontent. The hand at your head goes from caressing to holding, urging you to stop fleeing and teasing.

You smile again against him and this time there’s no mirrored grin from him; he’s falling too quickly into a pit of need, one he didn’t notice you digging with every caress and kiss.

You tease your lips to the corner of his, planning to press more firmly directly on target, but his hand grips you firmly and he’s turning and insistent lips slot hungrily against yours.

You gasp in delight while he shudders out a breath he’s been holding since he met you.

Then I had a better angle come to me by remembering a basic writing preference, that the circumstances around the kiss - the ‘why’ not just the ‘what’ are much better for generating a scene, luckily in the above I think I amended that mistake when I went into more detail! (keeping these more to the stream I originally wrote them in cuz I fear I went on too long above LOL)

He kisses you after fearing for your safety

He kisses you for fear you’ll leave

You kiss him in anger, wanting to prove you’re worthy

He kisses you while you sleep, too afraid for you to know the hold you’ve had on him all along

He kisses you to soothe you, pull you from your fears and sorrows to just float with him in your little bubble away from all the hurts of the world, held aloft by sensation and need and affection

He kisses you to possess you, someone else coming too close and needing the message

You kiss him in joy, ignoring all the dirt and grime that came back with him from Impel Down

You kiss him with a sorrowful heart, needing to comfort the man who was larger than life now sat sadly before you bare of all, even his golden hook and ego

You kiss each other, your lips had sweetly made their way up his neck and across that strong jaw, coming to rest unsure right at the corner of his lips, your shaky breathes puff sweetly across his cheek as he tilts his head to rest temple to forehead, the turn to face you fully is slow and caressing, his own breath coming to mingle with yours, your noses bushing gently. The barest tilt of his head has your lax lips tentatively brush his, just the faintest tickle of skin on skin. A shaky exhale - his or yours you’re not sure - and your lips press more surely, first easing in like the first step into dark waters before you both succumb to diving under. A fierce grip slips to the nape of your neck, endlessly dragging you closer

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading and thank you anon for your ask 💜 I'm gonna be better at getting back to the others (life was being life lol) and up next I have some comfort fics and x marine reader! And perhaps a little filth 👌🏻

Masterlist

#sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #one piece #x reader #reader insert #one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #canon x reader #one piece x reader #gn reader

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wonwoonlight · 2 years ago

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when mingyu takes jungkook's advice but forgets about one (1) thing

fluff // idol!au // mingyu is dumb in love // sex implied but this drabble is nothing but fluff!!!!!

It's three in the morning when Mingyu turns on the live.

He's still high on adrenaline for some reason; the whole day has been great and not one single thing went wrong even though some schedules got him worried at first. His meals were all exactly to his liking, his exercise went like a breeze, and he got to see you.

Perhaps the last one is what makes him so high. After all, it's been a little over a month since he saw you and finally being able to see you and feel you... gosh it was the closest feeling he would describe as euphoric.

You're currently sleeping in his room, blisfully unaware that your boyfriend has turned on his live just one room away.

"Hi." He grins and waves at the camera. "If you remember I told you some time ago that I'd start listening to a certain senior... here I am."

He fixes his hoodie over his head, happy that the fans seem happy with his wardrobe: a grey sleeveless hoodie with nothing underneath.

"I look like your boyfriend?" His grins widen, his mind flying to you. "Your boyfriend must be very handsome then."

"Hmmm, why do I look happy when it's 3 in the morning? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy at this hour?" He comes closer to his screen to look at the comments. "I'm not drunk! But I might’ve had a liiiiittle bit of alcohol earlier."

The live continues on like that, and between all the crazy things he's seen Jungkook did, he's starting to see why the guy is fond of doing lives at this hour. As an idol, he's usually wide awake at ungodly hours, and even though he knew the company and Seungcheol would have his head tomorrow, he can't be bothered to care at this moment.

He's blaming it on the alcohol too. But by the time he even remotely considers something might go very wrong, he's having too much fun with his fans and he's way too drunk on the happy feeling from everything that has happened during the past 24 hours.

"It's okay. If I get scolded then I get scolded." He addresses the fans' concerns. "They probably won't reupload this so consider this a present for all of you here, okay? Let's have fun while we're at it."

"Mmmmh. Is there nothing fun? Tell me something fun." He frowns as he squints at his screen, trying to read through the comments.

"What I'm wearing underneath this?" He grins teasingly and tugs the neck of his hoodie. "What do you think?"

It's seconds later that the comment section goes crazy, and he blinks in confusion, trying to see why people are screaming. It doesn't help that no one gives him any context until he finally catches one single comment that gets his heart beating so loud he can hear it on his ears.

Was that hickey on your collarbone???

He continues to play stupid, answers some questions that he made up in his mind while pretending to look for one in the comment sections, stays on live for another five minutes before he says he's starting to get sleepy so he needs to go.

He stares into space for a good ten minutes after he turns off the live.

He's fucked.

He's so fucked.

How the fuck is he going to explain this to the company and all of his members tomorrow? At least he's actually been considering going public with you for quite some time, have talked about it with his members and the company also, but this isn't how he imagined it would be.

Biting his lip, he's too lost in his thoughts to realize you've stepped out of your room, looking a little lost also, wondering why he's in the living room.

"Why are you not in bed?" You ask adorably, rubbing your eyes as you plop on the sofa besides him. "And why is your phone propped like that?"

His arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest, already imagining not having to hide you away anymore after whatever hurricane that will pass tomorrow.

But.

First thing first.

"Babe." He squeezes your shoulder, already feeling sorry at your sleepy hum because he's sure you won't be sleepy after this. But whatever, imagining his future self showing you off to everyone is going to be worth it.

He grins when you look up in confusion, the dangerous grin that you know is up for trouble.

"We might have a problem. "

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu au #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #khione.fics #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen au #mingyu x reader #mingyu drabble #seventeen drabble #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fic

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toasterdrake · 3 months ago

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got mad thinking about HTTYD3 again and decided to funnel it into design practice and a little retelling exercise. ohh what a Night Fury hunter character could've been...

(not supposed to be a redesign of Grimmel, but a separate character to replace him as an antagonist. he's also quite similar in design to Drago -- who i think is a wonderful villain, for the record -- so i wouldn't expect to see him in any canon HTTYD media.)

when characters like Dagur and Ryker go on about wearing a Night Fury's skull as a hat i've always been curious to.. actually see a villain who delivers on that and proves themselves as a threat prior to meeting the heroes. a character who doesn't kill dragons because he has a vendetta against them like Grimmel or seeks to control them like Drago, but just wants the social status given to people capable of killing the most dangerous.

and then being around the riders' age; someone like Astrid or Dagur who are young but already so good and so accomplished at what they do, brutal and efficient. someone to both reflect Hiccup, and be his opposite. a rival. the kind of person who would have bullied him if they knew each other as kids, but also carried through on his initial goal right at the start of the first movie: killing dragons for status.

anyway, i don't think it's a perfect design yet, but it sure was fun to develop :) Set has a wonderful face, btw

#also was fun to think about what parts of a night fury would actually be bone 🤔#httyd #httyd oc #httyd design #character design #villain design #httyd villain #hel httyd #set stjostrand #my art #my oc

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months ago

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rager.

a donaka mark x reader x john wick disaster. 6475 words. warnings: the usual sex and violence, not necessarily in that order...

-Once upon a time, Donaka Mark might have loved you. Or at least, the closest thing to love a narcissist like him can manage. It was mostly lust, you suppose, and the novelty of discovering the unexplored corners of someone new. It didn’t take long for that to turn into possession, and the first time he let the mask slip, revealing the dark beast within, you knew you’d made a grievous error, putting yourself in this man’s hands.

He had no intention of ever letting you go.

-He liked to control every aspect of your day. What you ate. What you wore. Who you talked to. Where you went. How you exercised. How you fucked.

What had started as the most exhilarating carnal adventure of your life had devolved into degradation and fear.

You wanted to go home. The first time you told him this, he’d laughed in your face.

-He started bringing you to watch the matches in his underground fighting ring. To scare you, mostly, but maybe also to enforce what you already knew: Donaka Mark was not a man to be trifled with.

You’d been terrified, the first time you watched him snap a man’s neck for refusing to play out his demands for a live action Mortal Kombat show. After the fourth or fifth time…you just felt numb. It was later, that it scared you, when his massive hands cradled the globe of your head, and you knew he could break you like a twig. There was something about the almost clinical way he looked at you in those moments, and you were sure that deep down, a part of him wanted to.

-You are in the middle of one of your frequent spats, boarding a yacht that belongs to a Russian arms dealer, a friend of Donaka’s who greatly enjoys the illicit entertainment your paramour puts on offer. “Do you always have to be such a whore?”

You’d dared to take the hand offered you by one of the crew manning the speedboat that would ferry you out to the yacht moored in international waters. There had been a swell, and you were teetering on the four inch Red Bottoms Donaka had selected for you, and you absolutely would have fallen into the dark South China sea if the young man hadn’t caught you. Donaka was making it into something entirely fabricated by his own jealousy–lately, his favorite game, and he would punish you accordingly for his own amusement.

At the end of your rope, you foolishly snap back, “If I was a whore I’d be having a lot more fun than this.”

The fire in his eyes is like the fallout of an atom bomb. “You think so? That can be arranged, sweetheart.”

The blood in your veins turns to ice as once again, you realize your quick temper and fat mouth has pushed him too far. You try not to think about how once, it had felt like he meant it when he used that endearment for you, and how afraid you are for what he has in mind now.

-Credit where credit is due: no one throws a rager like the Russian Mob. The music is loud, the vodka flows like water, and there is dancing like this is their last night on earth. You make your way through the press of the crowd on his arm, Donaka glad handing like the charming snake he is, so very at home amongst these members of the Brotherhood, their wives, their girlfriends, and their whores. Once upon a time you would have been oblivious to it; but now, you sense the danger in the air like a coming storm. Some of the fighters in Donaka’s enterprise have this heaviness about them. A feeling that at any given moment, anything could go down. It makes your hair stand on end, and you can’t stop yourself from gripping Donaka’s arm harder. Once, he would have comforted you, patted your hand, paid you a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Now the glance he throws you is cold and dark and treacherous as the deepest ocean trench.

Your heart sinks like a stone.

-You enter a lounge off the main deck that is filled with couches, tables, a bar, and so many Russians. They are dressed to the nines in suits that undoubtedly cost more than an economy car, but the scars and tattoos on their skin tell you exactly who they are. There are women too, beautiful, scantily clad ones, draped across laps and posted behind chairs rubbing shoulders. The men are talking boisterously, one of them telling a story and the others laughing uproariously. One of them pantomimes aiming a gun, and the spray of blood. It wins shouts of approval, raucous triumphant laughter, and more vodka poured.

-You notice that out of this entire brigata only one man sits quietly, a silent shadow who barely smiles, nodding his head but making no sound. He is heart wrenchingly handsome, in an all black suit and tie, and when he turns his gaze to you it is as though something shifts inside you; like his midnight dark eyes can see directly into your soul. You’ve seen him before, in the crowd at Donaka’s fights, a dark tower standing behind his otets like a guard dog ready to do what he must. You’re certain he’s a killer, even though you never spoke to him, never got this close to him–even then it was like a physical thread pulled your attention from across the crowded room. You simply could not look away.

-You only manage to tear your eyes away now when Donaka starts speaking to one of the older men seated in the crowd, shaking his hand. “Viggo Mikailovich, your friends throw the best parties.”

“We do what we can, Mr. Mark.” Viggo’s eyes turn to you, assessing you up and down with his heavy gaze while asking, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Very much. I brought a little present for your boys.”

He pushes you firmly into the middle of the circle of the boisterously drunk men, and finally you realize what he intends as your punishment tonight. Eyes wide, you whirl to look at him, to beg him, but he’s already walking away on those long legs, smirking at you over his shoulder.

Bastard. Fucking bastard!

You don’t speak Russian, but you hear the excitement in the male voices behind you, around you, you feel the catcalls and dirty innuendos, the threat in their playful tones like oil upon your skin. You start to shake, with fear or rage, you do not know.

-You take a step as though to chase after Donaka, but an iron grip closes around your wrist. Startled, you look down to see the man in black with the soulful eyes has wrapped his–admittedly huge–hand around you. Caught in his gaze like a mouse hypnotized by a cobra, you stare down with fearful fascination. Please let me go?

The words die on your tongue. Somehow, you know they will do you no good.

You notice that the suggestive comments silenced the minute this man put a hand on you.

Who is he?

One of the men makes a plaintive statement, which the man in black answers succinctly, but with a resolve like stone. No one dares challenge him. You feel them fall back, like wolves retreating into the shadows of the trees. You look down at him, and you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You’d be a fucking fool to think he’s rescued you–but he’s not like the others. That much is clear. He holds your gaze as he kisses your knuckles without a word, and you feel your knees turn to jelly, your treacherous cunt fluttering in answer.

-He pulls you down–not unkindly, but leaving no room for argument. You find yourself slowly foldied into his lap, perched on his long legs, tucked into the warm curve of his solid torso. You know you have a screwloose, but something in the lizard part of your brain purrs, despite the bad situation you know you’re in. The lace hem of your little Dolce and Gabbana black dress has ridden up your thigh. You are flabbergasted as he smoothes it back down with a light-fingered touch. “Better?” he asks, his big hand on your knee, and you don't know why you’re surprised he speaks English. You are surprised he seems to give a damn about your comfort. “Yes. Thank you,” you say softly.

-You are practically nose to nose with this man. It’s been a long time since you were this close to a man who wasn't Donaka, the intoxicatingly warm spice of his cologne filling your nostrils. It gives the illusion of intimacy in the loud and crowded room. His answering smile is ever so slight–a barely detectable tick of the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't say anything else, turning his attention back to the revelers in his group, though his fingertips draw light, maddening lines across your bare shoulder, down your arm. You shudder, and his gaze slides back to you again. Embarrassed, you try to cover, “What are they saying?”

A long sigh escapes him, all the weight of the world in that slow expulsion of air. “You don't want to know.”

You get the feeling that this man is as tired of this world as you are, and for some crazy reason, you almost feel safe in his arms.

-You could melt into a puddle, when after a little while he turns back to you, catching your lips so gently with his that your toes curl inside your pumps. It’s like a breath of spring, like something that died in you comes back to life. There’s a slow-burning fire in his eyes, and he stands with you in his arms, setting you on your feet. “Come with me,” he says, and hand in hand you go to the bar, get a drink, and go deeper into the bowels of the boat. His friends bellow and tease him, as the two of you go. He waves them off with a little smile, answering with that brand of manly banter that translates across all languages, something in Russian to you that sounds like “Shut up, assholes.”

-You wander the crowded boat until you find a [relatively] quiet place at the stern. You lean on the gunwale together, shoulder to shoulder, watching the dark waves below as you nurse your drinks.

“So…what’s your name?” you ask, starting with the basics.

“John.”

You lift your eyebrows. “John?”

“It’s easier than Jardani.”

You look up at him, suddenly wondering how many parts of himself he's had to hide, to survive in his world.

“I can handle Jardani,” you say, and he smiles a little, but you feel like maybe you're the butt of the joke.

“What about you, pretty girl?”

“Y/n.”

He nods, peering down at you like he can mine all your secrets with a look.

“Y/n, you do not seem to belong here,” he ventures.

“I don’t think…any of the women do,” you answer. You know they’re sex workers, doing what they have to do, or what they’ve been forced to do–and you know you’re no better than any of them.

“You know what I mean. Where are you from?”

You tell him, and he nods like he already knew.

“And what did you do, before?”

“I…worked in an art gallery.” This makes him smile a little, inexplicably wistful.

“And how did Donaka Mark get his claws into you?”

“I was visiting a friend from school in Hong Kong. I met Donaka at this insanely lavish party thrown by her parents’ friends at their house on The Peak. I’d never known anyone like him, who actually talked to me like I was a person. He…was charming, and I guess…I was dazzled by it all.”

You feel like you’re making a confession to this man you do not know, but once you start you can’t stop.

“He invited me over to see his art collection, and I never really left. He asked me to stay, so I did. It was…the stupidest mistake I’ve ever made in my life, I found out.” You hate it, that tears start rolling from your eyes. It hurts to look back on the beginning, on your earnest hopes. You’d fallen in love with a foolishly open heart, blind to the red flags that you realize now were there all along. “He was good to me at first but it was just a trap. He…won’t let me leave. He won't let me see my friend, or any of her contacts. He has my passport, and he won’t let me even go near my embassy.”

You feel so fucking ridiculous, but this man just nods. Not judging you. As though he understands the way men like Donaka chew people up and spit them out all too well.

-You hug yourself, goose pimples erupting down your skin. “Are you cold?” You nod, because it’s partly true. There’s a chill that runs deeper than your skin, something physical warmth can’t touch. He motions to take off his jacket for you, but you suddenly feel bold, maybe from the drink you’d consumed, or maybe…because he seems kind. You slowly step in to snuggle into his body, sliding your arms under his jacket. He closes his eyes, enjoying it as much as you as you tuck under his chin. He strokes your hair, and eventually it's you who turns your face up, hoping for another kiss. He looks down at you with those soulful dark eyes, and its as though every cell in your body quivers with anticipation before he ducks his head, and his soft lips touch yours. It's gentle at first, but then it grows into this heady, hungry thing–you pull back with a gasp, looking up at him with your big, woodland creature eyes. Here you are again, in the arms of something that could eat you in one bite–and you want to be devoured.

If you ever make it home…you should get your head examined.

It doesn’t stop you from asking breathily, “Do you want…to go somewhere?”

He takes your meaning perfectly well, that intense gaze upon you. “Are you sure?”

You nod without hesitance, and he closes his eyes, presses his forehead to yours as though you’ve just told him something that could save his life. He knows he should refuse. You are just a pretty, soft little thing that doesn’t belong in this world. He shouldn’t even be allowed to look at you, much less touch you. But he can’t say no. You’re in his arms–and he can’t say no.

He is not a good man. He knows this very well.

He takes your hand, and leads you back to the hall, then to a stairwell, where you go down into the boat. It takes you a few tries, before you find a stateroom where you can be alone. Once inside he locks the door behind you, before pressing you into the wall with a devouring kiss that makes you see stars. That gentle man from before is not gone, but he is hungry, and you are all too happy to offer yourself up like a feast for him to devour.

“I've wanted you…since the moment I saw you,” he admits. “On that asshole’s arm, across the room at the fight…I knew you weren't happy with him.”

You make a sound that is dangerously close to a sob.

“I wanted you too,” you admit, and the fury of his answering kiss steals your breath away.

Clothes are shed, buckles and buttons undone–his solid weight presses you down into the bed while you are only wearing your panties, and his skin against yours is a divine thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your chest, kissing your neck, your collarbone, and you could weep because it’s been a long time since you’ve heard that with any sort of tenderness in it.

“So are you,” you answer truthfully, your hands running down the ladder of his ribs, the taut muscles of his back and torso, past the perfect dimples at the small of his back and into the loosened waistband of his trousers. The firm curve of his buttocks feel like they were sculpted by God himself, or at least Michelangelo, which is close enough.

You spread your legs for him, inviting him in, and he rolls his hips against you. You want him inside you, but he is kissing down your body with something else in mind, his tongue teasing the taut peaks of you nipples.

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” he asks, already pulling your panties down your thighs.

“Oh god,” you answer, which isn't really a negative or an affirmation. But he keeps going, and the sound you make as his tongue dips into your folds is barely human. You feel him chuckle against you, a deep rumble that resonates inside you, vibrating against your clit and you almost cum on that alone.

“John…Jardani,” you sigh as he drives you towards heaven with his tongue, teasing you with slow circles before lapping hard at your bud, a finger slipped just barely inside you. It’s so wonderful you could die.

Maybe you will, if Donaka finds out that not only did you sleep with someone else, but you enjoyed the hell out of it too. It seems his little punishment backfired, for now, but in the end he’ll make you pay somehow. He always does.

“You're going…to make me cum,” you warn him. He makes a sound inside your wet pussy that sounds like ‘Good.’

“But I want…to cum with you inside me.”

This gets his attention, this beautiful man looking up the line of your naked body at you with a sharp hunger in his midnight dark eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He presses a wet kiss to your singing clit, and you're not sure of anything.

“Yes,” you manage shakily, and he wipes his mouth on the sheets, standing to shed the rest of his clothes. You are mesmerized, watching the precise way he moves. You're grateful, when he produces a condom from his pocket, tearing the foil and rolling it on his impressive manhood. “Thank you.”

He just nods, occupied looking down at you with an intensity that nearly makes you squirm, positioning himself between your legs. His tip at your weeping entrance is a revelation; his thick length pressing inside you the best thing you’ve felt…ever, maybe. A few thrusts and he is seated completely inside you, buried to the hilt. You are incapable of keeping your eyes open, your head tilted back in bliss. But he does not move, and you feel him looking down at you, his arm around your shoulders holding you close. “John?”

He kisses you so gently it breaks your heart, his nose brushing yours. “I’m here. Are you?”

You don’t understand exactly, why fat tears roll down from the corners of your eyes.

“I don’t think…you belong here either,” you say. He seems…too kind, and you find it hard to reconcile that with the man who commands such fear in his crew that no one dares challenge him even while full to the gills with distilled liquid courage.

“I never had a choice,” he tells you quietly, and you believe that, nodding as you hide in the bed of his neck. Maybe this is a strange conversation to have, while a man is inside you, but everything feels too raw, too vivid, and your sanity teeters on a knife’s edge. You kiss his neck, breathing him in. If you’re going to die soon…at least you got to have this. Something real, and good, in the most unexpected place.

Life is so strange and cruel and sometimes–it’s wonderful.

“Please…don’t stop?”

He kisses you again, passionately, desperately, and you sense that maybe he’s close to breaking too. He groans in your mouth as he starts to move inside you, slow thrusts that allow you to savor every inch of him, his delicious girth stretching you wide. You shift your legs up, the angle tightening your hole for him, winning you a growl that sends a thrill from your spine to your aching center. His thrusts become faster, more erratic, and you think he might cum just like this. You find you crave the triumph of it, wanting to give him something to remember you by. “So fucking good for me, malyshka,” he rasps, withdrawing to guide you into turning over. His hands are so sure, so exacting as he arranges you how he wants, your ass in the air and your face in the pillows. Your pussy flutters and pulses, missing him, hungry to be filled again. You melt as you feel his kisses down your spine, and the slow pressure of him pushing inside you again. Just when you think it can’t get any better, strong, blunt fingers strum at your slippery clit, and your focus of the world narrows to wanting one thing.

“You going to cum on my big cock for me, sweetheart?”

You whine in answer, yearning, clenching around him. He shudders, thrusting deeper, making you jump. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

You realize you would give this man anything, for making love to you, when for so long you’ve only felt like a thing to be used. It might be this thought, as much as his masterful manipulations and his perfect member, that fills you up with pleasure until you break, a spine-cracking orgasm ripping through you. You feel him arch back, riding you through the furious fluttering of your walls squeezing him, greedy to be filled. Soon after he cums with a shuddering groan, his big hands on your hips, fingertips digging into your tender flesh hard enough to bruise.

He collapses over you, his dead weight and searing warmth enveloping you a wonderful thing, even if you can’t breathe. He whispers something softly in Russian into your hair, sweeping it back to kiss your neck, sending a luscious shudder down your spine. Slowly as though his strength is sapped he moves to the side, tossing the condom and drawing you into his arms. The small smile he pays you, the gentle kiss he offers, and the sadness in his dark eyes feels like a slow-twisting dagger in your heart, an exquisite pain you simultaneously loathe and savor.

You know what’s coming next won’t be good, and maybe it makes this small slice of bliss with him all the more glorious. With his big hand on the back of your head he tucks you into his shoulder and the two of you doze, tangled up for just a few minutes longer in paradise together.

-A little later he wakes you, sweeping the hair from your eyes and kissing you softly. “We have to go back,” he tells you regretfully, and you nod, knowing you can’t hide here all night. The two of you dress slowly, in no hurry to return to the hedonistic revelry above. But you suspect he has a job to do, and you…can’t escape your keeper this easily. He helps you with your dress, though his strong hands on your curves through the silk just lights the fire within you all over again. You sit back to watch him with a fascination that borders on obscene, entranced by his hands on his buttons, his tie, and the deft way he secures his weapons about his trim waist. He carries a lot of firepower, for being at a party. You suppose threats to his boss can come at any time, at any place.

-Hand in hand you return topside. The party hasn’t exactly wound down, though everyone is clearly very drunk. You find that Donaka is in the lounge, speaking to Viggo Tarasov again like they are old friends. His sharp gaze takes in the two of you across the room, his eyes narrowing, and within a moment you know that he is pissed. He stands as you approach, your grip on John involuntarily tightening with fear. “Time to go,” says Donaka, in that tone that brooks no argument from his subordinates.

But when you resignedly try to walk around, John holds you a step behind him.

“I thought she was a gift?”

“Just for the evening,” Donaka clarifies, leveling an assessing gaze at the man in black.

“You should have said. I’m afraid I’ve ruined her for you.” Donaka straightens, a barely banked rage seething in his eyes, all while you press your lips, trying not to laugh out loud for the spite of it.

Oh shit.

“How unfortunate for her,” Donaka finally answers, eerily calm, next leveling his gaze upon you. You will be the one to pay the price for this embarrassment in front of all these Russian gangsters. “Come on, y/n. Play time’s over.” He holds out his hand for you, and you know if you do not obey him…he will end you.

But still, John does not let you go by.

“It’s bad manners, giving a gift to take it back.”

“I’m sorry you misunderstood.”

“I’ve heard you think you’re a warrior,” John says cooly, his words so matter of fact. “So, let’s fight for her.”

Everyone in the room goes silent, all eyes on the three of you.

“You…don’t want to do that, Mr. Mark,” says Viggo, shifting in his chair uneasily. He says something low in Russian to John, that you assume translates to ‘Give him his bitch back.’

But you know that was the worst thing to say to the man who keeps you like a toy. Donaka Mark prides himself as a fighter. He’s not a bragging man, but he does not like the thought that he can be beat, by anyone.

“We can fight,” says Donaka, looking John up and down. “But I’ll warn you, I don’t spar for points.”

A low murmur runs through the crowd at this challenge. Unruffled, John nods. “Me neither.”

You think about the dastardly things you’ve witnessed Donaka do over the past year, and you squeeze your lover’s hand, afraid. “John…” you whisper urgently. “I know he looks civilized, but…he’s a killer.”

John simply nods, answering at a volume meant only for you, “We’re all killers here, milaya.”

Maybe you suspected it was true, but you’re still afraid, if for anything just because this man has become precious to you, and that feels like a promise from the universe to hurt him somehow.

-It takes place on the main deck on the front of the yacht. Everyone gathers around, eager to see what will happen, though you can’t help but notice several of the Russians seem uncharacteristically solemn. The combatants remove their suit jackets, their ties, and roll up the sleeves of their made-to-measure shirts. It’s to be a hand to hand affair, man to man, no weapons. John leaves you with Tarasov, as though he deemed the older man a safe place for you. “You must have left quite an impression, for John Wick to fight for you,” says the mafiya king.

“I…didn’t ask him to,” you answer for some reason. And for some reason, this makes the older man snort with amusement.

-The fury of their combat is a spectacle to behold. They are evenly matched in height and weight. At first it seems like Donaka might have the upper hand, landing a few blows, but that is quickly assuaged as the kicks and punches really start to fly. You watch as the gentle man who held you so tenderly is transformed into a finely-honed fighting machine; it is both terrible and fascinating . You dig your nails into your palm as you watch, hard enough to draw blood without even realizing, you are so transfixed.

Wick twists Mark up like a pretzel in a complicated move, and maybe would have succeeded in breaking his neck had Donaka not bit him savagely. They go at it again, and when there is a flash of metal you realize Donaka has pulled a knife. You gasp at this betrayal; some of the Russians laugh, and some boo. Donaka slashes at Wick, who succeeds in jumping out of the way, a hair’s breadth ahead of the blade. Wick catches his arm, strikes his wrist, and the blade drops. They grapple, and head-butt, and Donaka manages to get John on the ground with a takedown move. He punches John, landing horrible, bloody blows. But John manages to get his legs around his opponent, flipping him. He swipes the knife, tries to drive it home, but Donaka holds him at bay. The two men hover in violent stasis, snarling at each other with bloody teeth. In a sudden burst of strength Wick strikes the knife, forcing it into Donaka’s chest, and then his throat.

You watch with horror as the man who has tormented you for the past year slowly bleeds out onto the high-polished deck of the yacht, his blood spreading beneath them in an ever-expanding pool. He is defiant to the end, baring his teeth at his killer like a tiger, but even Donaka Mark cannot survive a hole in his heart.

You look upon them, dumbfounded, feeling as though John Wick has slayed a dragon for you.

-Wearily, your hero gets to his feet, accepting a towel to wipe his face and hands before fastidiously unrolling his sleeves and buttoning his cuffs again. Only then does he turn to you, a cut bisecting his brow, his nose bloodied, his lip split. “Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s all you can do not to faint dead onto the floor.

-Wrapped up in a fluffy robe, you look out over the bird’s eye view of Victoria Harbor glittering like a blanket of aquamarines in the morning sun. Anxiously, you await John Wick’s return.

The past twelve hours have been a blur. The few security men who had accompanied Donaka surrendered and made no trouble, only wanting to leave with their lives once their meal-ticket was gone. John had bundled you off back to Hong Kong island via one of the speedboat tenders, and promptly checked the two of you into a hotel room in a lavish establishment in the Central district called The Continental. They knew him by name, did not blink at the state of his face, and immediately offered to send up a doctor and a bottle of Blanton’s finest bourbon.

You took a long hot bath together, and by your count, made love three and a half times before he left “To arrange some things.” (The half was on you–the body was willing, but the flesh weak). You feel like you've been living in a fever dream, high on a mixture of relief and disbelief.

You realize, with the benefit of hindsight, that you really had thought you were going to die.

-When finally he returns it's as though a tight knot releases in your heart. You greet him with kisses and a long embrace. He may be a seasoned killer, this man relishes being held. It's yet another thing that endears you to this man; it makes you want to never let him go. “It’s all settled,” he tells you. “I got you an open ticket. You can go home once you get your new passport from your embassy. You can stay here as long as it takes to get that taken care of.”

This news should make you ecstatic.

Instead, you stare up at him open-mouthed, gripping his arms with fingers like claws.

Finally, you remember how to fucking breathe.

“Thank you. I really can’t thank you enough, for everything.”

He smiles ruefully, brushing your hair back from your cheek. “You don't seem happy.”

You close your eyes, because this man sees everything. There's no hiding from him. “I…don’t want to leave you,” you admit point blank, quickly, before you lose your nerve.

He continues to pet your hair, like soothing an animal that's on the edge of going feral. He reads you like a book.

“Baby…you've been through so much. You need to go home.”

You nod, knowing he's right. But fuck if it doesn't feel like your heart is breaking. You've actually managed to avoid having a proper breakdown so far–postponing the inevitable, you’re sure–but fuck if there aren’t tears in your eyes. “Will I ever see you again?”

You can tell he's amused with you, even if he's sad too. Not unkindly, he says to you, “Has it occurred to you that you have terrible taste in men?”

You laugh shakily, mostly at yourself. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve done pretty well for myself lately.”

He cups your cheeks in his hands, looking down at you like you’re something precious he’ll never see the likes of again. “I want you to promise me you’re going to go home, and fall in love with someone completely boring, and live a good, safe, life. Can you do that for me?”

You make a face. Not just at the thought of loving someone boring…but loving someone who is not him. “I will promise you…that I will look after myself with more care, when I get home.”

He sighs, having to accept it, and he kisses you so sweetly that you understand his heart is breaking too. “Maybe in another life, sweet girl, I could have been the kind of man who deserves a woman like you.”

“You’re not a bad man, John,” you insist. “You’re my hero.”

“Just this once, just for you.”

You pull him into another embrace, and you realize you are not the only one who is trembling with pent up wishes that life could be different for both of you.

“Come here,” you say, pulling on his tie. He obeys, allowing you to lead him to a chair. You know he lets you, when you playfully push him down to sit, but you'd be a liar if you pretended you didn't get a thrill out of it anyway.

“What are you up to, pretty girl?” he asks gently, a warmth in his soft brown eyes, just for you.

You kiss him lingeringly before sinking to your knees before him, sliding your hands down the length of his muscle-strapped thighs. “I want to thank you,” you say, playing the coquette to mask the fact that your heart is splintering into a thousand pieces as you speak.

“You don't have to thank me,” he tells you, cupping your cheek in his hand. You lean into his touch, savoring every second you have left with him.

“Fine, I won’t,” you say cheekily, winning a huff of laughter that feels like a coveted prize. You reach for his belt buckle, and he doesn't stop you. “But I’m still going to suck your dick.” His mouth dances as he tries not to smile– in the end he loses the battle, and then he moans as you free him from his underwear, already hard and proud in your hand.

“Baby…how am I supposed to let you go?” he rasps as you take him between your lips, swirling the glans with your tongue. You almost forgot how fun sex can be, until John found you. He claimed you, and then, he set you free. You take him all the way into your throat with gusto, moaning with him as his fingers comb into your hair, gripping lightly as you work him up and down. “Let me have you?” he whimpers. “One last time?”

You withdraw with a pop, your vision unfocused with lust as you look up at this god of a man. You know it’s batshit crazy, but you would stay by his side indefinitely if he would only let you.

He scoops you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and you make love again while he looks into your eyes. You feel like he's stolen a piece of your soul–you’ll never be the same, and you certainly know you'll carry him with you, in your heart and your memory, for the rest of your life.

-As the years go by, you honor John Wick’s request in your own way. You do take care of yourself. And, you never really allow yourself to let anyone in again. It's too disappointing, after having known a man like him, and too risky, after having known a man like Donaka Mark.

You've since moved to New York. You work as an art consultant for a large firm, basically telling rich people what to buy for the walls of their multi-million dollar residences. As tiresome as the uber-rich can be, you get to work in a field you love, and draw attention to emerging new artists who deserve it. When you return from your lunch break Tina, the receptionist, tells you that you have a walk-in who requested you specifically waiting in conference room 1. It's not really how things are done at your office, but you know better than to turn your nose up at a prospective client. You set your things down at your desk and go see what awaits you.

He’s standing at the window with his back to you, looking out over Manhattan. Even so…you would know the lines of his body in a smartly tailored suit anywhere. Suddenly, your knees feel like they might go out from under you.

“John?”

Only then does he turn, still so handsome it hurts, his hands in his pockets and his eyes still so filled with warmth for you. “Hello, y/n.”

It takes three tries to find your voice.

“What are you doing here?”

He looks down for a moment, as though shy about what he has to say. You've literally watched this man kill with his bare hands– what could he possibly feel embarrassed about with you?

He keeps his deep voice low, as though he's afraid he might spook you. “If I told you I've had a recent change in careers…would you have dinner with me?”

You close your eyes, because it's all you can do not to leap over the hand-crafted conference table. He’s all you've thought about in your free time, since the moment you parted. The memory of this man is imprinted on every cell in your body. Maybe he let you go…but you belong to him.

You realize you've been silent for a long time, when he answers sadly, “But if the answer’s no I completely understand.”

You're at work. You have a reputation to maintain. You have to act like a professional.

You forget all this, when you cross the room and fling yourself into his arms, answering his question with your mouth on his.

The rest, as you might guess, Dear Reader, is just history.😉

—-----------------

*otets - the godfather, the big boss *brigata - brigade, a crime crew in the russian mafiya *malyshka - babygirl *milaya - darling, honey

I'm pretty sure @sweetwolfcupcake planted the seed for this a while ago when she commented on my Sympathy for the Devil fic "What if John Wick entered the picture?" 🤭 And here we are. You're a genius, dear girl!!😘😘😘

#donaka mark #john wick #keanuverse #donaka mark x reader #john wick x reader #donaka mark x you #john wick x you #keanu reeves

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leatherthorn · 2 months ago

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TKDB - Can they drive?

I had been thinking about this earlier, but this like from the newest chapter made me think about it more.

So without further ado, here is whether I think the TKDB boys can drive or not.

Jin: Probably can, but doesn’t. That is what Tohma is for.

Tohma: Absolutely. That guy could probably drive a space shuttle if he was prevaricated upon to do so.

Kaito: Too much of a nervous disaster to get behind the wheel. Would 100% slam the accelerator while in reverse while parallel parking.

Luca: Doubtful. I imagine he probably will learn to drive someday, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who won’t learn until after school, since he doesn’t need to right now, and he’s got a lot going on right now, you know?

Alan: We already know he does. He’s quite skilled at all kinds of driving. Probably the kind of guy who can get someone an hour way ij 30 minutes.

Leo: Huh? Gross. That’s what Sho’s supposed to do.

Sho: A responsible motorcyclist. Will probably have to learn to drive a car/box truck for convenience sake in the future.

Haru: He definitely drives a micro truck illegally. How else is he going to carry heavy feed all over the olace? No one bats an eye because he’s doing it on private property technically so he doesn’t need a license. Also, is a Capybus a motor vehicle for the purposes of this thought exercise? It’s an open question. He probably also drives that illegally, regardless. Calm down, Ritsu.

Towa: No way in hell is anyone letting him drive the micro truck again after what happened the last time.

Ren: He strikes me as the kind of guy who was forced to learn, but never got to drive anywhere fun. He is probably just working for his family business.

Taiga: Laws are for suckers.

Romeo: He is probably the one that actually drives during missions, if it’s necessary. Generally doesn’t drive if he can avoid it, but has absolutely driven the Passo dello Stelvio at least once.

Ritsu: Has his drivers license and is an absolute menace on the road. No one is getting anywhere efficiently because he’s too busy impeding traffic with his strict adherence to the rules. This is why Romeo drives.

Subaru: Absolutely not. While certainly capable of learning, he’s far too nervous to effectively drive.

Haku: also no, but more from a matter of convenience, rather than some sort of anxiety.

Zenji: Same for Zenji. I don’t see him learning how, even though he would happily extol the virtues of a country drive.

Ed: He could drive a carriage. Does that count?

Rui: has a license and no car. Being a surfer would require some ability to bring boards around to the beach, but I can’t imagine that he drives enough to justify owning a car.

Lyca: When would he have had time to learn, between living in the wilderness and in anomaly jail? He’d probably be good at it if he was given the chance, though. At the same time, I think he might also be prone to road rage, so… no different than your average American driver…

Yuri: He would also be a menace behind the wheel, but because he would be too busy having Big Brain thoughts to remember to put the car in park before getting out of it.

Jiro: Also a menace, but because he would let people keep going ahead of him at the first stop sign he came across.

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leavemebetosleep · 6 months ago

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Alright here's a short version of how I'd fix Bride of Discord. As a sort of mental editing exercise.

While not really a good fic for a lot of reasons, Bride of Discord actually has a lot of potential as a story. There's a lot of great imagery, and it has a lot of fic tropes I like and are fun to read. I actually would probably change less than some people would. (If your "rewrite" doesn't keep any of the original anything, it's not actually a rewrite babes)

It's just that a lot of stuff in it is maybe played from the wrong angle.

Also there's no saving the Applejack/Spike thing. That's just gross. I think you could keep a similar subplot, just change it so AJ's crushing on someone else. I like AppleDash, but RariJack would probably work the best here. Maybe in this version she's afraid to confess bc she thinks Rarity is straight since she's so femme.

As for the main couple, I think you could actually make the demanding a wife thing work, just have it play out differently.

Like, Discord is old. He spent a lot of time as a statue, and might not be up to date on modern society. Maybe instead of it being a VERY creepy request that screams "sex slavery" make his request explicitly a somewhat less creepy political marriage.

That was common back in his day, and he IS trying to make a peace treaty with Twilight. Being married to one of her people is a show of good faith, that she won't go back on her word, and he won't go back on his, as well as metaphorically uniting their kingdoms.

He doesn't care who it is, because he's not intending to fall in love with them. At best they're gonna be an extended house guest.

They can even point out that's dated and weird, but he can also counter he doesn't know how else to get a proper show of trust. He doesn't trust them with his own safety, but he does trust they won't go after one of their own.

That could also play into why he's so insistent they get married already. Fluttershy trying to avoid the marriage once she's in his kingdom makes it feel like he's being set up, and like the treaty is tenuous. Or maybe he's even suspicious that she's avoiding because the ponies don't plan to stick to their deal.

That could even factor int the climax, but I'll get there.*

Discord can be lonely, and he can still also be a little desperate for companionship, but I don't think that should be his reason for the marriage. Otherwise he could've just asked for a companion, not a wife. Plus, I feel like per-reformation Discord would be in denial about being lonely. I think he'd only start to realize how much he's been missing out on until AFTER he's gotten to know Flutters.

*So in the climax, Fluttershy declares she doesn't love him bc her friends are badgering her, and he gets creepy possessive and tries to hypnotize her and there's a fight and what-not.

Yeah, instead of that what if it's his paranoia that she's avoiding getting married because they plan to betray him coming to a head?

He hears Fluttershy say something to her friends that out of context sounds like they're going to blast him back into stone after all. So he's think she's a traitor who played him for a fool.

I'd nix the hypnotism, just have him and the six fight it out, and then he kicks everyone out before Fluttershy can explain because he's heartbroken and doesn't want anyone to see.

Lot of minor fixes I'd throw in too, cutting out plot threads that go nowhere. Less heteronormativity. Fixing a LOT of OOC-ness. A LOT.

Oh and I'd change Discord's backstory too. The Megamind rip off thing is meh, and I think Discord's a character you could do a lot more interesting things with that that.

As for Fluttershy, a huge problem I have with this fic is she lacks real agency. I want her to choose to go with Discord, not out of the weird sense of feeling she has to sacrifice herself. (It comes off, for lack of a better word, suicidal.)

Maybe instead, she chooses to go because despite her shyness, she's bold when it matters. She will stand up to him. She's not going to be afraid of him anymore. She's gonna tame him like every other wild animal she's had to deal with, and save her home in the process. She's going to come back. He can't keep her there if she really decided to leave.

Have her be the Fluttershy who tried and failed to use her stare on him.

Also, in the original I never at any point felt like she fell in love with him. Just that she gave up resisting his advances. She's always wary and hesitant to do anything with him. That's fine for the beginning of their relationship, but for this to be a good love story that has to change at some point.

Where's the moment she realizes she finds him a little attractive actually? He's weird looking, but he's so confident and funny and fun and that's really appealing. Where's the part where she's having fun and forgets she's a prisoner? Where's the real bonding? Setting boundaries?

Maybe she convinced Discord to let her friends visit, not because she's marrying him already, but because she convinces him to try to make other friends. And he does it, because he loves her already at this point. And she thinks if he and her friends could get along, they could work thing out. Maybe she was hoping things would go well so she could tell him she wanted to marry him after all.

Maybe she really did want her friends at her wedding, but also to be able to have her parents, her brother.

This last bit has nothing to do with the author's writing. This fic was originally written before the show ended, and we got a lot of lore afterwards she couldn't have known about. That's not her fault she couldn't see the future. But just for my sanity, I'd add in more cannon lore.

And uh. I guess that's all got with what I remember of it. Yeah.

#fluttercord #bride of discord #this is kinda just brain vomit bear with me

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sixflame438 · 2 months ago

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Makeup Shenanigans

Synopsis - While your makeup artist had left to get a few things, your girlfriend comes to do your makeup instead.

Pairing - Hong Eunchae x 6th lsfm!reader

Tags - Fluff, I know nothing about makeup, possible errors, established relationship, kissing

A/N - [Request] This has a second part but can be read as a standalone fic. Part two is another requested fic which is [here] Pretend that Lsfms first fansign was during antifragile era mk?

Wordcount - 1138

Breathe in. Breathe out. You repeat this mantra in your head as you continue to do breathing exercises trying to calm your nerves. Opening your eyes you stare into your reflection on the table mirror, face half covered as the make up artist had to briefly step out of your dressing room to as she had the wrong shades for you.

Today was the groups first fan signing event and it was normal to be nervous but you were also super excited as well. You would be meeting the people who believed in and helped support Le Sserafims success since the beginning and you couldn’t be more grateful to pay them back. The event was just a simple meet and greet session and then attendees would have a chance to talk to each member for a short while as they signed their albums.

Nothing about it sounded too hard and you had a great feeling that the day would turn out well. Hearing the door click open you assume its your makeup artist coming back with the supplies but to your delight its not.

“Babyyyyyyyy”

“Pumpkin! what are you doing here?”

“Nothing in particular I just missed you” she replies as she nuzzles her face into your neck

“Is your makeup done already?” Questions your girlfriend when she gets into a comfortable position.

“No the person doing it had to leave and get a few things”

“Oh yea i know” Sensing your confusion Eucnchae continues. “I was bored and saw your artist leaving so I came here. Plus i couldnt do this-“ she leaves a kiss on your temple- “if she was here.”

“Ulterior motives i tell you” you say shaking your head in disappointment.

“No no no 100% innocent no ulterior motives i just missed my adorable girlfriend” she defended with a pout and pleading gaze.

Eunchae was a repeat offender and you were her number 1 victim, never being able to resist her large puppy eyes. With an amused roll of your eyes you dismiss the thought as you motion for Eunchae to take the seat next to you.

As the maknae sat down she noticed all the stuff laid out in a mess on the table top. Brushes of different sizes, palettes of varying shades, lipsticks and other beauty products just waiting to be used by someone.

“Baby can i do your makeup?”

For a second you were taken aback but quickly give into the request as you sit back properly into your chair. Eunchae pulls her own closer so that shed have an easier time applying everything.

Browsing the tools at her disposal Eunchae quickly gets to work making your face even more beautiful than it already was.

—————————

It had been about 6 minutes of quiet when Eunchae finally stops working. It wasn’t an entirely horrible attempt but you could easily tell by looking at your reflection that your girlfriend had no idea what she was doing. Some areas had been blended weirdly as you could tell from the incorrect colouring and there was too much blush on one cheek and not enough on the other. These were amongst the many issues you could see but at least you had a fun time.

“Last but not least some lip gloss to finish it off. Hey this looks great on you with that light pink tint i wonder if itll look good on me too” Eunchae stated thinking out loud (eunchae more like ed sheeran)

“You want me to put some on you?”

“Nah ive got a better idea” is all eunchae says before leaning in to press her lips onto yours, transferring the product. As if nothing just happened she turned to the mirror to examine herself. “Awww i dont think it showed much”

“You just need to put more on” you say with a smirk. Eunchae picking up what you were putting down giggled to herself before closing in to connect your lips again.

The kiss was sweet, a combination of your cute partner and the lip gloss you were now sharing. It had a strawberry undertone to it and altogether was a delightful experience.

In a way it felt like the lip gloss was calling you out for being just as fruity as its flavour but you were too in the clouds to care, focusing on Eunchae and only Eunchae.

You pull apart first as you had run out of air but your arms stay linked around her neck as you lean your forehead onto Eunchaes. Together you bask in the closeness and warmth, simply enjoying being together.

Your moment is cut off when you hear the click coming from the door. Cautiously you lift your head up to see the makeup artist walking in mumbling something to herself, eyes focused on the products she had been holding. When she looks up you can see the shock colouring her face with horror.

“Oh my god what happened to your face….”

“We got bored so Eunchae did my makeup” you say embarrassed that you were caught.

“Oh this is…. something….”

The artist says clearly not impressed by Eunchaes attempt. “We cannot have you going out looking like this were going to have to start over. Where are the wipes….”

As the makeup artist starts looking around for things to remove your makeup with Eunchae takes that as her sign to leave. She doesnt make it far out the door though as she turns around to blow you an air kiss, one you giddly accept and reciprocate by sending one back.

“Ill see you later Yn” Eunchae says with a wink before she actually leaves to return to her room.

You turn back around to see they had finally found some wipes and immediately gets to work removing everything. You turn your attention to your phone when you hear a specific ping noise. One you had set specifically for Eunchaes messages.

Hey cutie miss you already 😘

If the stylist saw anything or had any suspicions she didnt voice them, staying professional to the job and skillfully doing your makeup (unlike the previous attempt)

You quickly reply back to her message and swipe out of your chats into one of your miscellaneous games that you could play mindlessly, careful not to move to much so you wouldnt disturb the makeup process.

The earlier interactions with Eunchae left you excited and now with that excess energy you coudlnt help but look forward to the fansigning.

Recording and learning the choreography to antifragile had been a blast and you were thrilled to be getting to meet the fearnots who supported your group since debut.

As the makeup artist did their thing, every tap and brush stroke precise to a tee, you sat as still as you could, beaming with excitement for Le Sserafims first fansign event.

No Celestial best song on album. Fight me.

#✰W - Works✰#eunchae x reader #hong eunchae #eunchae #le sserafim eunchae #le sserafim imagine #le sserafim fluff #le sserafim x reader

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

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TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

This is just me with my analysis hat on.

1. 2023 = the year EVERYONE went outside their lanes

Everything went topsy-turvy this year in BL.

For example, Korea gave us agonized yearning and outright queerness (The 8th Sense, The New Employee) while Japan served up soft office workers and tender family (Our Dining Table).

The BL world went askew for a while, especially in the spring of 2023.

Not that we still didn’t still get Korea’s soft angsty bubbles or Japan’s “what are you doing and why does it hurt?” kink-fests. But there were quite a few BLs that made us chronic watchers sit up in confusion and wonder if Korea was dabbling in Taiwan’s territory or Japan in Thailand’s. Then they fudged the kisses and we were like... okay, back in familiar territory.

In contrast, Thailand stayed course-correcting for the damage they’ve done in the past with tropes (2022) and self referential meta criticism (2021), but also almost aggressively returned to their BL roots after last year’s series of shockers. Certainly, they are reexamining those roots, transplanting some, aerating others. But they really went back to classic Thai university and high school BL and pulps in a big way in 2023.

Taiwan is always difficult to gage because they produce so few but they seem to have stuck with what they do best with no deviation while producing more this year than they have in ages. I’m happy for that, why change a good thing? But there is a tiny part of me that really wants them to hit it out of the part with a quality piece soon. For me, We Best Love still reigns supreme, but I would really like the HIStory franchise to give us that level but longer - like a happy version of Your Name Engraved Herein. I think Taiwan has the chops to give us something as good as The 8th Sense or Old Fashion Cupcake but in their style, and I would like to see them exercise their talent for good rather than just profit.

I know, what a very odd thing for me to say. But if any BL is going to break into the mainstream American market, I genuinely think it’s most likely come from Taiwan.

Vietnam and the Philippines are falling behind, in general. They just didn’t bring out very many shows in 2023, and what the brought out tended to fub the endings. This is forgivable in Japan (because of their style and quality) but not what watchers want in the lower production value propositions. In other words, if you do a pulp, you can’t mess up the ending (by romance standards). that doesn’t look to be changing anytime soon.

2. The Office Romance Dominated

After years of Thailand serving us an endless (and slightly bland) buffet of university (and a few high school) BLs, this year Korea was basically like...

Ofiice. We like the Office. It’s cheap to film we can use grown up actors, acting (mostly) their actual age.

And yeah... it totally worked.

To be fair, Japan has always given us office live action yaoi from the beginning (they had the source material) but this year everyone else, including Thailand, seriously started playing in this setting.

3. Boys Danced with Boys

The darling @heretherebedork was a big fan of this one, and I rather like it myself. Prior to this boys dancing together was very very rare in BL, but this year we got way more than our fair share. It was lovely.

Never Let me Go

My School President

Bed Friend

The Day I Loved You

Step by Step

Be Mine Superstar

Tie the Not

Dangerous Romance

I think there were a few more. These are the ones I remembered to write down.

4. Getting (even more) Meta With Tropes

BL has been getting more and more meta over the past few years but this year they really focused in on tropes specifically. Calling out their own biggest and most favorite tropes in a massive way, especially Thailand and especially GMMTV.

Like they tunneled in on damaging tropes with Bad Buddy and the like over the past 2 years, and now they are just having fun with us.

I mean they just started the dancing trope and already they are calling it out? That’s like rapid-fire regurgitated meta there, GMMTV.

5. Cameos are the norm now

Taiwan has always loved cameos but in the past the other countries have been show and steady with only one or two a year. (Unless Japan does a parody.)

This year Korea got in on the game.

Korea rarely starts trends but they do adopt smaller and lesser known existing ones and make them super popular.

This year they did that with cameo couple appearances, even borrowing a few of Thailand’s pairs (TutorYim and MaxNat traveled north). They did it so much I stopped tracking. Love Class 2, Why R U?, and Jun & Jun were the heaviest hitters.

Taiwan, of course, came back swinging. Kiseki was the gum-ball machine of pair cameos. (In Taiwan mafia = gay.)

6. We are entering the cross pollination age

The number of remakes picked up or started this year was startling, not just countries revisiting their own content (Thailand, Japan) but countries revisiting OTHER countries stuff.

Lemme explain...

Korea has started remaking Thai content (Why R U?) alongside cameo'ing Thai pairs.

Thailand is doing Korean IP (My Dear Gagster Oppa) and has 2 Chinese ones slated for next year.

GMMTV acquired a lot of Japanese IP (Cherry Magic, Ossen, and My Love Mix Up) - and then had problems distributing it.

This is probably the most surprising trend for me. Especially the Japanese stuff. I would have thought these properties well outside of Thailand's price range (even GMMTV's) not to mention Japan’s legendary IP issues (I swear I typed this pout before the pulled TayNew’s excellent Cherry Magic).

Also why not option some of the older popular manga instead? Bet that's much cheeper. (I did see a NEW Thai translation of Finder into Thai, which is 90s yaoi, so I have my fingers crossed on that front.)

I shouldn't be too surprised.

Thailand is running out of y-novel content. Their publication industry is just not robust enough (I was just talking to a friend about this at length recently). But I didn't think they had the funds to option, especially from Japan.

Perhaps the option deals are for peanuts?

7. Korea got cheeky

I’m not sure quite how else to put this.

After finally figuring out boys can kiss, Korea started to do not just higher heat but playful higher heat, with more aggressive word play and linguistic innuendo, like they are entering their racy rom-com teenage years (Why R U? Love Class 2 and Jun & Jun in particular.)

I guess: Welcome to your BL teens, Korea?

It’s cute of them. I am very much enjoying it.

And now that comedy is warming them up, we get to see them play with actual queer burgeoning physicality in shows like The 8th Sense.

It’s nice. I like seeing Korea stretch its wings. They still stick to their bubble, but that bubble seems to be expanding.

8. The Amnesia Trope is back

And I, for one, would prefer to forget about it.

9. BL got trendy

I’m not quite sure how to articulate this category but basically we started seeing a lot of “modern” romance trends out of the west (like a/b/o) show up in our BL. Not a ton and sometimes quite small, but there has a been a steady rise of things like: no seme/uke, femme gay, out gay, condom use, messy gay.

We also got an increasing range of sub genre frameworks (like mafia, office setting) that’s moved BL pretty firmly (even in Thailand) out of school and into the workplace, whether actual working is involved or not.

It’s not to the point where it feels like we get more non-school BL than school BL (if I include all countries in this assessment).

Japan, in classic Japanese fashion, quietly started moving in the opposite direction. It’s what they do.

10. The Vampires are coming

This is an announcement trend, which I don’t usually report on but it’s so CLEAR.

So last year we had a spate of announcements of possible Omegaverse (2 from China, 1 from Japan, 1 from Thailand - the only one that’s happened).

This year we got 5 Vampire (or vampire-esk) Thai BLs announced including one from GMMTV.

Whether all 5 will actually get made is unlikely, but having had (basically) none prior to this (Kissable Lips), I’m pretty confident that we will get at least 2 of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one other country made one as well. (Side eyes Taiwan with interest.)

Final thoughts

It feels like we are also seeing a decline in BL (both by quantity and quality) from Vietnam and the Philippines. As you all know, I don’t track or really watch either of these two very closely. But it feels like, now, no one else is either.

I think we have likely seen the BL heyday already in both places and their industries are now on the decline.

We might be witnessing a thinning in the players in the BL field.

FYI we had approximately

136 BLs in 2023

Previous Years

2022: 117

2021: 95

2020: 62

2019: 40

2018: 30

2017: 44 (China’s last gasp)

2016: 27

2015: 17 (50% micro)

2014: 17 (50% micro)

And that’s it! Let me know in the comments if you’ve spotted any additional trends you want to call out.

Last year, 2022′s trend report

2021′s Trend report

Last Year’s Stats & Predictions

(source)

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erinwantstowrite · 5 months ago

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hi! hope your having a good day/night/timezone/etc.! u got any writing tips (like how to not lose motivation/use up as much of it as u can while u have it, any ways to get the words flowing/“get in the writing mood” that have worked for u) for any of ur fellow fic writers? (idk if this’s been asked b4 (it seems like a common question lmao), but if it has, ‘pologies, lolol ^^)

i have a few that i've been thinking up to try and post!!

remember that you aren't on a deadline to write, and to take the time you need. no one wants to read something you rushed, let alone do YOU want to read it. and it REALLY matters if you love what you're writing. you'll kill your motivation trying to keep up with something like that!! if you only had time to write 300 or you had a great day and wrote like 3000, you're doing great either way!!!

there's a lot to keep up with when you're writing, and you have to remember and understand all of it. if you're trying to write while you're tired/upset/etc, you'll likely end up with something you're not that proud of. (granted, art is art, and sometimes these emotions can create something beautiful or meaningful). take metal breaks so you can come back to your work with a fresh mind, and don't overexert yourself. you'll remember and understand more if you treat your writing time like you would when you're studying. sometimes i make flashcards to remember characters, places, events, etc.

sometimes i can get too analytical with my writing, or it starts to become flat? if that makes sense? meaning, like... i'm putting words on paper rather than delving into the story. too many "they felt this way" and not enough "Character A turns to face the man that had changed their entire life with the single shot of a bullet, careless to what damage he could have caused. It's haunting to see that the man is simply that: a man. Not a monster as they had imagined, laying awake at night and wondering what their father had seen in his final moments. He's just a man." what helps with this is putting myself into the shoes of a narrator, remembering that i am telling the story as if i already know what's happening (even if I don't know where I'm going with a scene yet). i imagine that my reader is right there next to me and i'm telling them the story in real time like we're sitting around a campfire telling ghost stories, or that i'm the quirky narrator of a book they just picked up.

During times where i'm losing inspiration or feel like i'm in a loop, i like to go back to my favorite medias and spend some time with them. i recently rewatched Gravity Falls, the Sea Beast, and the Adam Project, and it was a fun mental break that got me into the writing mood. i try to find similar media to what i'm writing at that time. if i want a scene focused on funny banter or a comedic effect, i read or watch comedy. if i want to write a scary scene, i'll watch a horror movie. etc etc. "studying" your favorite media and putting yourself into your fav writer's writing shoes is a great way to improve your own writing. think about why that joke was funny, what the set up was that made it that way, and if it would have been a different joke if another character said it (Gravity Falls is one of the best media you can use for this, but really, reading mysteries in general can help)

physical exercise, if you can. getting your blood flowing and treating your body well!! when i was in band, we used to do "body warm ups" set to music, and i still do them to this day. it gets me awake and alert while also letting me listen to fun music before i write

#erinwantstowrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #writing #writing advice #writing inspiration #writing tools #it's important to learn your trade!#just like you would look for tutorials on how to get better at art #or sports #if you're trying to get better at writing #you need to study what came before you #and go looking for lessons!#thank you for the ask!#and if you're trying to find motivation #remember that how you treat yourself has the most impact on that #you have to experience!!

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meanbossart · 6 months ago

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Hi! Feel free to ignore this, but I was wondering about your journey on writing your fic? Like, did you planned it before writing? Or you went figuring things out as you wrote?

Your writing has inspired me to craft my own fic but I seem to be stuck in the planning stage 😅 so I was wondering about your process in between planning your story and actually writing it

Also I love your realistic depictions of characters and your art

Initially, I wrote the first chapter as a one shot. This was way before we got the epilogue update and I really wanted a more tangible conclusion this little story I had concocted throughout the game - an epilogue of my own, basically!

Then I just decided that I wanted to write more. Writing has never been my forte and I really felt like finally exercising that muscle. The first few chapters are incredibly rough and that's because I was doing just that - trying to figure out what worked for me stylistically and exploring these characters without the pressure of having to take it somewhere yet. Alas - the brain does as the brain does, and by the time I was writing chapter 3 or 4 I had already figured out the main storybeats and ending, and a few chapters later I had filled in all of the gaps in a whooping 15 page long outline in google doc 🙄

if you don't believe me, all you have to do is go all the way back to chapter 4 where I hint at the existence of Grodderick and Nathanya - characters that only ever show up in chapter 17.

This has come with some downsides. It frustrates me to no end that the fox subplot has been slowed WAAAYYYYYYYYYY down only because I couldn't predict just how long everything in-between would take to flesh out, for example. Overall I feel like my writing still may be a little convoluted and like "simple" scenes take a tad too long - as a visual artist I can't resist but constantly describe mannerisms and facial intricacies - but hey, this is what I'm doing this for, to have fun and figure these things out as I go, and I feel like I have improved absolute heaps.

So, I didn't go in with a plan at all but I kind of ended up with one pretty early on anyways. I'm not sure how helpful that is, since there are all kinds of writers out there and you should absolutely do whatever works best for you - however, more importantly than that, you should do whatever keeps you writing regularly.

Also, of course, do not even for a moment fool yourself into thinking you can write a perfect story that you're going to be proud of for many years to come. By the time you write chapter 20, you will probably hate chapter 2. But who cares! You wrote 20 chapters of a thing and that's neat as hell.

#ask #a novel experience

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rubra-wav · 11 months ago

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Main Hazbin Hotel cast x fallen angel reader who wants to cut off their wings (drabble - hc format)

Req by: @lightmoon99

A/N: I fucking love fallen angel angst type content, it's my bread and butter. I hope I was able to do it some justice <3

Cw: SFW, decapitation, a bit angsty, platonic, cannibalism, Gn!Reader

When you had fallen from heaven to hell, your hate for your more angelic attributes that had already existed before the fall only deepened.

You hated the sensation of the weight that signified your wings were, in fact, still there even when your halo had been taken when the exterminators had left you to die here.

You hated that you had to feel the pain of your attempt to hide them under cloaks and baggy clothes with ropes pinning them to your back.

When you came to the hazbin hotel, you were open from the get-go with Charlie, hoping she would sympathise being the daughter of a fallen angel herself.

It of course didn't take long for others in the hotel to find out you are a fallen angel, however it did take longer for them to find out simultaneously during a group exercise that you wanted to discard any and all heavenly reminders of what you used to be.

Charlie

- She's horrified when you bring out your wings in a flourish and say such a thing while gesturing to them.

- It's not too surprising considering you hide them practically all the time, but it still fills her with a sense of grief for you to think such a thing.

- She immediately tries to shut it down, telling you that you shouldn't hurt yourself and should be proud you have such gorgeous wings!

- Would apologise and go silent when she realises how badly she's messed up in saying that seeing your expression.

- Only continues speaking to dissuade some of the poor ideas coming from others in the group.

- She'd probably try to think up ways to make it up to you after the meeting.

- Probably tries to suggest doing some trauma work type things? She doesn't know a lot about that kind of thing, but she could get some books on it to try!

- Actually ends up learning a bit about trauma treatment stuff outside of the awful pop culture live love laugh stuff she's on about most of the time.

- Ends up helping out with you coping a bit better in the end due to that.

- Keeps trying but fails to do anything to dissuade certain members of the hotel to stop encouraging you to remove your wings, however.

Vaggie

- She's stung as a wingless fallen angel herself that you'd want to do such a thing.

- But she also understands all the same why you'd feel that way.

- Would respond in a way that's understanding, but ultimately awkward and clunky due to how she is normally.

- Made worse due to her own angst about it.

- Afterwards, she would probably try to have a private chat to you about it since it's clear you're struggling and logically she's gonna probably be the one most understanding.

- May even reveal she's a fallen too if you're close to try and give you a feeling of comradery in a pretty bleak way.

- She's got basically the opposite of what you've got, but it'd still be bonding and mutual support.

- Would be emotionally supporting you and encouraging you to try work through the trauma rather than harming / cutting off your wings.

- What the hotel doesn't have is a doctor, so you'd be screwed if you decapitated a part of yourself.

- She doesn't want you to feel inclined towards taking up certain members' offers either.

- She knows that the others are not going to stop with their bullshit so she actively tries to educate you on what they are up to really and all the risks that come with.

Angel

- When he first hears it, he cringes very noticeably despite his usual persona.

- The definition of 'that's rough, buddy.'

- He feels terrible for you that you'd feel such a way, but he also has absolutely no clue how to express it at all.

- Probably would be the type to try distract you from the bad by having fun, so he'd be trying to get you to hang out with him and either go to parties or go on various shenanigans.

- He's not good at emotionally comforting people at all, so he's awkward as hell and at loss when it gets particularly bad for you.

- But he's always there to try do activities with you to take your mind off of it.

- And he also needs it as well honestly. It's nice having someone who's also feeling shitty so you can mutually drag each other out to do things rather than wallowing in bs and feeling worse and worse.

- Probably calls out Cherry as well because she's always good at cheering him up.

- He knows quite a few people from a lot of different walks of life, so chances are he could get you in contact with someone who'd be able to perform removal surgery if after everything you still want it done.

- No strings attached as well with his assistance, unlike Alastor.

Husk

- He'd not really react at all initially outside of maybe raising his brows at your comment.

- Obviously, it's bad, but he just prefers to play his cards to his chest with how he truly feels about things.

- Would be actively being bitter as fuck at most of the other residents suggesting stupid shit though in a way that's honestly protective.

- Basically shuts all of them down one by one, calling them out on their crap.

- When Alastor points out how he 'seems to care awfully much about you' Husk scoffs and tells him to fuck off.

- Shuts up for the rest of the group part of the interaction.

- Afterwards though, he'd have a private conversation with you and actually gives you some good advice.

- Tells you that you should do whatever the hell you want but also to not let the opinions and thoughts others dictate that.

- If you want to do that, it's really your decision, and nobody has any right to try to tell you what you should do with your own wings.

- Doesn't really share his own opinion on what he thinks you should do because it's asinine and would be hypocritical to what he's encouraging.

- Just encourages you to think for yourself rather than just going with what the idiots and asshole are trying to fill your head with.

- And if you do decide to get them removed? Make sure to be safe with it.

Sir Pentious

- He very obviously feels bad for you. He shows it all over his face but also has no clue how to express it properly.

- So, naturally, he automatically goes to propose a practical solution to the problem.

- "I can do that for you, my fallen friend! I have experience with my creations, so I should be able to attemp-"

- He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's very rudely interrupted by Husk and told to fuck off with that shitty idea.

- Visibly deflates when he's told he's not a doctor and is just some inventor wannabe.

- He'd shut up for the rest of the meeting, moping and glaring between Husk and Alastor.

- But afterwards, he's approaching you saying he would try his best to do it if you asked.

- Would go and start researching how to do the procedure and starts meticulously learning about how to properly do it.

- Whether you decide on him doing the procedure or not, he wants to be ready just in case.

- He has no idea how to emotionally provide for you properly in this situation, so he's doing what he does best and is working practically. He's all open to any way he can be of assistance, however.

- Absolutely asked his eggs for advice on what to do and got nowhere.

Alastor

- Person number 2 who receives a resounding 'shut up' message via Husk.

- His eyes absolutely light up when you say you want to remove your wings, grin widening as he takes on a sweet tone that does not match his intentions at all.

- "Well, that could certainly be arranged, darling."

- Asks if you'd like to make a deal for your wings in exchange for something you want from him. He'd take you to someone skilled enough to do the operation.

- He wants a meal that is heavenly in a completely different kinda way.

- It's not every day you get to eat angel wings. And it wasn't like you wanted them, and he sure did.

- Even if you're friends, he wants to win the rare delicacy competition he has going with Rosie. If he bought some skilfully cooked dish with your wings in it, he'd win without a shadow of a doubt.

- It's not like he'd be lying about getting them removed, either. Just his intentions for volunteering to do so.

- Shuts up about it after the first mention of it and being called out by Husk, going on about something different after.

- But he's already plotting out what he can do to get what he wants.

- Would actively be sabotaging Pentious the whole time he's studying how to do the procedure as well. Those wings are going to be his, and he will not be the second choice when you (in his mind at least) inevitably come to him for assistance.

- He won't actively make your misery worse, but he will act as a passive influence urging you towards his goal.

Niffty

- Would also say she can remove your wings.

- But, would then proceed to try and do just that without even allowing you to process what she's said.

- Gets caught thrashing around like a madwoman in mid-air by Vaggie who saw it coming from a mile away.

- Wants to get your wings taxidermied and framed because she thinks they would make an excellent decorative piece in the hotel.

- Would then need to be kept in sight at all times away from you as she would be repeatedly trying again and again to destroy the cloaks you wear to hide your wings to get to them.

- Already had been collecting your feathers for several months and had already sorted those into a freaky art piece.

- So she's more than ready for a more substantial specimen.

- Was the one to actually expose you as being an angel in the first place - unintentionally by mentioning the giant feathers she'd found in your trash.

- Would probably be placated if you gave her more feather tbh. She thinks your wings and feathers are just wonderful.

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sugar-grigri · 11 months ago

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Have you seen Fami's right ear ? Because I haven't.

The game of interpretation in reverse, or focusing on what seems to be avoided by the chapter, not shown, works! and even if it doesn't work, it's still fun and leads to wild theories, which I love to imagine. And this post is no exception to that rule.

We had chapter 155 where we interpreted backwards to find answers to Denji and Nayuta's existential crises.

We also interpreted backwards to better understand the inconsistencies in Yoshida's behavior and the implications for chapter 156.

In my opinion, chapter 157 is no exception to this rule. Focusing on what the author refuses to show in order to find the answers fits in well with a mangaka fascinated by cinema.

Not convinced? Chapter 156 ended on Asa's legs, like a superhero ready to take on the big bad alone. The next chapter directly contradicts what it had already demonstrated. But why? Because you shouldn't trust either the author or the way the characters present themselves to you. That's what this whole chapter is about.

What matters to you may not necessarily matter to the characters. Our focus on the first page would be on Asa's missing arm. Yet she brushes it aside, as if she were dismissing our concerns with a wave of the hand: what's important to her, strangely enough, is wearing her uniform!

Which raises another question... have you seen much of Asa without her uniform? Yes, we've seen her without it, but more often than not, it's her fetish outfit for readers.

I could tell you that, once again, this is to emphasize the fact that we don't have the same temporality on the characters, and that Fujimoto insists more and more on what he refuses to show, but I'll be accused of over-interpreting, so let's carry on.

Fami's statement that appearing to be a high-school student is the best cover for me immediately brings to mind a specific public hunter, who also appears always dressed in his uniform! But people will tell me that I'm being too defensive of this character, so.... Let's continue even further

Asa manages to turn the guns on those who were going to shoot them, all by imagining that she had been able to redeem them.

It's precisely because she's disconnected from reality that she's able to create the illusion that her power works

And I repeat: disconnecting from the events we see in Chainsaw Man helps us too.

Asa is able to create weapons without even needing to touch them, i.e. to touch the concrete, the agent who watches over them is right to recognize her but wrong in believing she's there to help the church members in the basement, when in fact she's there for Chainsaw Man. It's normal for him to think that!

Because that's how she was presented on TV!

Which shows what? That you can't trust everything you see

Just before, we had a focus on Asa's legs, particularly through her walking, the fact that she's almost running

Let's interpret this in reverse again. Did you see Fami's hands? Yes, we see them, but never up close and never open.

What was important was obscured by the fact that, at the end, it was noted that she did have something in her hands, but the chapter focused on Asa's legs, even though she had slipped.

Pay no attention to what was emphasized to guess what happens next

In the title, I'm talking about Fami's right ear, because she is abnormally shown on the same side throughout the chapter.

Because it's hiding an earpiece? I'd have liked to, but I don't think so. As someone pointed out in the previous post: you can still see her ear on page 2.

The point is not to think that Fami is tilting her head to hide something in her ear, but why is she shown so much the same way?

The fact that she's bent over reminded me of chapter 140, when Denji visits the CSM church for the first time. At the end of that chapter, Barem presents an ultimatum: which side is heavier? Chainsaw Man represented by that cable on Denji's torso or his peaceful life with his family?

The chapter 140 is called "Scales", evoking the weighing of these two choices, and Fami, who is supposed to represent the church, is already tipped over.

Why? Because the choice has already been made

Denji chose to be Chainsaw Man, but when he realized it, he was faced with the fire in which he lost his cat and dogs.

When he transformed, he found himself endangering his little sister Nayuta

The scales tipped in Chainsaw Man's favor, to the detriment of his family.

The way Fami was always presented on the same side was to make it clear which way his head was tilting : to the left.

Okay, but how do you explain Fami's head being tilted the other way in other earlier chapters? It's normal, Denji's choice is very recent! He hesitated until now!

All this makes even more sense with her Chainsaw Man earrings, which represent cables.

And then you'll tell me "it would work if she had a cable earring on the same ear, but it's safe on both ears so it doesn't work", yes it does, trust us, we'll carry on.

When does Asa fall in part 2? Often when death is near, almost like a bad omen announcing it. She falls crushing Bucky, she falls with Yuko who later dies prematurely, she almost falls when her mother sacrifices herself...

So death is near.

And two things can explain it :

Fami is bent over to symbolize the fact that Chainsaw Man has been chosen over his peaceful life.

The chapter again emphasizes that Asa can save Chainsaw Man by attacking Chainsaw Man, because Chainsaw Man prevents Denji from having access to his peaceful life, hence the fact that Fami is bent over.

But let's think about it another way: in chapter 155, Denji emphasized the fact that he didn't know what a family was, having committed patricide, how could he possibly understand this notion?

Denji killed his father, his brother, his sister died for him...

So Chainsaw Man has always put his family at risk, which seems logical given everything we've said.

But remember that in this same chapter, we found an answer: Chainsaw Man is an empty shell filled with the people he loves, his family, and his aim is to protect them.

When Denji says he wants to be Chainsaw Man, it's to protect his family, who fill him as an empty shell.

When Fami says we must kill Chainsaw Man to save him, she's right.

Maybe not because there are 2 Chainsaw Man, since Pochita and Denji are inseparable.

But because to protect what has filled Chainsaw Man's heart, you have to kill the source of his misfortune, himself.

And that's why it all works, even if Fami's two earrings are cables, because even killing Chainsaw Man, the empty shell, saves what filled it - his family.

That's why Asa falls, because the end and Denji's sacrifice are close at hand.

But second interpretation.

Remember, when Asa falls, it means that death is near. So.................. who's next to her?

Obviously, this is pure theory, but I find it amusing.

Why does Fami only show one side? Because she didn't present herself well.

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call it Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity.

Remember how Yoshida told her she was terrible at choosing names, to which Fami retorted that she didn't care if anyone found out who she was?

Is that really the case? Wasn't it to reinforce the fact that she was supposedly the devil of famine?

The first time Fami appears, in Asa's school, she introduces herself as the war devil's big sister (= true), which she does again at the aquarium, introducing herself as the famine demon (= false), called Fami (= true).

But as we've seen, you can lie about a devil's name, just as Fami did with the fire demon, presenting him as the devil of justice.

So what's to stop her from lying about the fear she represents too?

I know it sounds crazy, but what happened when the devil of eternity appeared? People were hungry!

And the first time Fami didn't intervene, the more time passed, the more the hunger grew, the stronger the demon seemed to become.

What's to stop the devil of eternity being the devil of famine?

You : "it's a tactic for Fami to use the power of the demon of eternity to starve them out". Yes it's true! But my theory about the wrong choice of devil names is possible too. The trick is not to say that what's been presented to us doesn't work, but to try and question it.

The famine devil falsely called the devil of eternity could be defeated by Denji twice: in part 1, because he had overcome the famine by becoming a public hunter

In part 2, because he fed Asa!

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call her Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity : the Death Devil.

So, since the answers lie in what we can't see, what's stopping Fami from tripping Asa?

Which explains Asa's shocked face.

But above all, it implies that his fall was not an unintentional one, as it always is when death is near, but that it was caused by death.

So if we line up the interpretations: death doesn't want mankind to disappear.

How do I know this?

Because she said so! She loves pizzas.

Death wants to kill Chainsaw Man to remain the sole end of beings. To stop it, all you have to do is eat her.

#csm 157 #chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #denji #asa #asa mitaka #yoru #famine devil #fami #nayuta #yoshida hirofumi #We're moving away from pure analysis I'm trying to theorize because I think it's fun!

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