#I got too into this idea and I now love them with all my heart

[dollyfiles]

rafe cameron knows that it isn’t just LUST he feels for you

cw: mutual attraction, forbidden love, emotional betrayal, angst, inspired by the song “lust” by chase atlantic.. & for my sweet girl @vampteeths <33

the humid night air clung to like rafe a second skin as he leaned against the porch railing of tannyhill, eyes fixed on the distant shoreline. the party inside was roaring—a mix of drunken laughter, loud music, and the occasional sound of bottles clinking. his friends were there, drowning in excess, but rafe had slipped outside a while ago, needing to breathe.

the drugs numbed him most nights, but tonight, he felt restless. there was something clawing at his chest, something he couldn’t ignore. and then, as if the universe wanted to punish him, the person who haunted his thoughts, stepped outside.

you. he didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. he could always feel you before he saw you.

he had no idea when it started—this pull you had on him. maybe it was the night topper introduced you to the group, laughing and draping his arm over your shoulders like you were just another accessory. at first, rafe thought you were like every other girl that hung around—beautiful, fun, disposable.

but then you smiled at him, said his name like it mattered, like he mattered. and something inside him cracked. it wasn’t like the rush he got from a pill dissolving on his tongue or the high of a line burning through his veins. it was different. he didn’t crave you in a way he did with other girls. you were different. he just liked you.

and that terrified him.

“rafe,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the thick night air.

he didn’t dare to look at you right away. he couldn’t. he was afraid of what might show on his face if he did. instead, he focused on the waves crashing in the distance. “shouldn’t you be inside with top?” he asked, his tone carefully detached, though the words felt like poison in his mouth.

you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cool breeze. “just don’t feel like it.”

finally, he looked at you. your eyes met his, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. it always did when you looked at him like that, like you could see all the dark corners of his soul and weren’t afraid of them.

you were wearing one of those simple dresses you always seemed to favor, the kind that made you look effortlessly put together. your hair was loose, framing your face, and in the dim light of the porch, you looked almost ethereal.

“you’ve been quiet lately,” you said. your voice was gentle, but there was a weight to your words, like you knew he’d been spiraling. you stepped closer, and rafe’s entire body tensed. he wanted to tell you to stop, to go back inside, to leave him alone. but he didn’t. he never could with you.

rafe laughed, a bitter sound echoing across the porch. “quite’s not really my thing, is it?”

“not really.” you tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did, like you could see right through him. it daunted him, but it also made him feel seen in a way he never had before. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

he hated how much your words got to him. hated how much he wanted to believe them. “why are you here, y/n?” he asked, his voice low.

you hesitated, both of you knew it was risky. you knew it every time you caught each others gaze from across the room, every time your conversations stretched too long, your moments together lingering on the edge of something dangerous.

but then you stepped closer, so close that he could smell the faint hint of your sweet perfume. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i couldn’t stay in there. not with him. not tonight.”

your words hung in the air between the two of you, heavy with implication. rafe’s heart was pounding now, a hectic rhythm that matched the chaos in his head.

“this is wrong,” he said, but even as he said it, he didn’t move away. “i know,” you whispered, gaze dropping to the ground, and for a moment, you looked so vulnerable that it made his chest ache.

rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling just underneath the surface. “i’m not… i’m not good at this. at feeling things. at caring.”

you tilted your head, gaze soft but steady. “you care more than you let on, rafe. you just don’t want to admit it.”

your words settled over him like a weight, and for once, he didn’t push them away. because you were right. he did care. he cared too much, and it scared the hell out of him.

“do you know how messed up this is?” he said, his voice raw. “you’re with topper. he’s my friend. and you’re… you’re you.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“it means i shouldn’t feel this way,” he sighed, his voice breaking. “i shouldn’t look at you and feel like you’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”

you bit your lip, just standing there in silence while rafe watched you. he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge what you were both pretending wasn't happening. rafe wanted to reach for you, to pull you close and tell you that none of it mattered, that he’d walk away from everything if it meant he could keep this—keep you. but he couldn’t. because no matter how badly he wanted you, he knew he wasn’t allowed to have you.

“i don’t get it,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “why are you even here? why me?”

you inched forward, so much he could see the faint freckles on your skin, the curve of your lips. “because i see you, rafe,” you said simply. “and i think you’re worth seeing.”

something inside him shattered then. he’d spent so long chasing highs, trying to fill the void with pills and powders and girls who didn’t mean anything. but you didn’t have to do anything. just being near you was enough.

“I don’t even need… I mean, I don’t—” he stumbled over his words, unsure how to explain what he felt. your eyes softened, and for a moment, you looked like you might cry. but you didn’t. instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his cheek. it was the smallest touch, but it sent a shockwave through him.

rafe closed his eyes, simmering in your touch for a little while before softly grabbing your fragile wrist and putting it back, right next to your body. “you should go back inside,” he said finally, forcing the words out even though they felt like poison on his tongue.

you looked up at him, eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite name. for a moment, he thought you might argue, might tell him that you didn’t care about topper or the rules or how wrong it all was. but instead, you nodded.

“goodnight, rafe,” you said softly, your voice laced with a sadness that mirrored his own.

he watched you go, your figure disappearing into the glow of the party. and for the first time in a long time, rafe felt something other than numbness. it wasn’t comfort, exactly—it was too complicated, too messy for that—but it was something.

and as he stood there alone, staring out at the waves, he realized that you had become his new addiction. a dangerous one, maybe even more dangerous than the drugs. but unlike the pills and the powders, you made him feel alive.

tags: @vampteeths @rafesheaven @rafeysbangs @rafesbowbunny @rafesweetie @whinyangel @plaidcowboy @filthyrafe @figthoughts @littlelamy @fawnhart @rafesdollette @starzify @rafesangelita @cherrygirlfriend @ch6rm @inspiredangel @girlyrafe @rafespreciosa @gibson-g1rl @kissyrafe

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 10 - From Makarov With Love

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Cannon typical violence, death, suicide bomber, it's a war drama what can I say.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

People silently move into positions, they look between each other, their eyes darting between each other. There’s hand signals you’ve seen people use before but you don’t know what any of them mean. Soap grabs your arm pulling you over to the sofa, you turn frowning at him as there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello? I was told to come here. I could really use some help.” A voice calls in Arabic. Price turns to look at you.

“They’re asking for help.” You say, your heart is thumping in your chest. They sound young, you feel sick. Price and Ghost stack up on the door. When it opens there's a boy standing there, he’s older than a boy, a teen maybe 17, 18. He has an Al Qatala headband on. He’s holding his hands up.

Price reaches forward, gripping his arm and pulling him in. Ghost closes the door then lets go of his weapon letting it swing down next to him. His hands run up and down his legs. His eyes are locked on to you, you feel guilt. Maybe you smuggled this guy for Al Qatala, maybe he knows you, you don’t remember everyone.

You doubt it. It doesn’t take long before Ghost’s hands stop. He pulls the coat on the person open. Your breath catches in your throat, you gasp. He’s got a bomb vest on. Ghost backs up.

“Christ.” Soap’s voice is almost angry as he walks past you over to man. You don’t know what to do or what to say. Al Qatala do this, you’ve never seen someone with one on before. You’ve seen them on tables, you’ve smuggled C4 and over explosives for Al Qatala before.

This is real though, now you’re seeing it in person.

“What’s going to happen?” he asks, he sounds scared. You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You’re the one with the bomb.” You reply. It’s all you can think to say. Price comes to stand next to you.

“What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know what’s going to happen.” You say looking up at him.

“Soap?” Price calls.

“It’s on a timer, it’s not pretty but it shouldn’t be too hard.” He says he sounds confident. Gaz moves over to help him. You feel sick, you’ve helped cause this. He looks young, he probably had no idea what he was signing up for, like most of the people Al Qatala or the ULF recruit.

“Who sent you?” You ask him. It’s a stupid question but you don’t care, talking keeps you calm, it’ll probably keep him calm too.

“The Butcher. He said it was my time.”

“I thought he was in Russia?” You say, he doesn’t say anything. You take another step towards him trying not to spook him.

“Did you blow up the car?”

“The ULF are traitors!” he snaps putting his arms down.

“Woah woah, eazy.” Soap says as he and Gaz stand back, your eyes flick over to Ghost who still has his weapon trained on him.

“Tell him to keep still.” Price says.

“Keep still or they’ll shoot you.” You say to him. He stops moving, turning to look at Ghost.

“Good then I will take you all with me.”

“We’re not ULF.” You snap at him. He looks back over at you frowning.

“You blew up the base, you’re in a ULF safehouse.”

“This is a ULF safehouse?” You ask, trying to play dumb. He doesn’t say anything, his hands come black up as Soap and Gaz approach him again.

“The ULF killed my father and my brother.” He says, you sigh sympathetically.

“Mine too.” You say. There, that's how they do it. When you’re young and vulnerable looking for someone to blame. You tried to run and leave the country you called home all your life. Some people, the unlucky ones end up like him, scared, following orders they probably don’t even agree with. All they need is the promise of a better afterlife, one where they don’t have to worry about war, the loss of their family, everything is better in Jannah.

In another world you might have ended up like him. Married of to an Al Qatala general helping the cause to take down the people you blame for both your parents death. Maybe it was a good thing you were too scared to stay, war scared you as much as the next person. You weren’t exactly willing to die for a country being torn apart by terrorists.

“What’s going on?” Price asks, leaning in closer to you.

“He was sent by Al Qatala, he thinks we’re ULF. They killed his father. He planted the bomb on the car.” You explain, you feel sorry for him, he thinks killing you is going to bring him and his father piece. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Alone?” Price asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you alone?” You ask him.

“No.” He says, that makes your stomach drop. He’s being watched, someone making sure he completes the job. Making sure there are no lose ends.

“He’s not alone.” You say. You hear Price sigh. You take another step towards him watching Soap and Gaz mutter cutting wires.

“How old are you?”

“17.”

“You look older for your age.” You say, you see a little smile from on his lips.

“I was the tallest boy in my village.” He says.

“I bet you were-”

“Shit.” Soap’s voice cutting through the air makes you stop. He stands up straight looking at the boy before walking over to you and Price.

“I can’t stop it. If I cut anymore it could go off.” Soap says, he looks serious, his face dark eyes sullen. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. Price lets out a long sigh.

“Can’t we just take it off him?” You ask.

“It’s hardwired into the clips, pull them and it’ll go off.” Soap says.

“What do we do then?” You ask, you know you’re not going to like the answer.

“I managed to disconnect the shrapnel, when it goes it’ll be contained.” Soap says. When, When it goes. It makes you feel sick. You look back over at him.

“There has to be something you can do?” You ask urgently. You can feel your heart pick up speed.

“We can make sure we survive.” Price says. “How long do we have?”

“Five minutes,” Soap says. You look up at him shaking your head, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe you kissed him.

“What do I tell him?” You ask Price as Soap goes over to Ghost.

“Tell him he’s going to be okay.” Price says darkly. You look at the boy, he’s frowning watching Soap and Ghost talk.

“He’s just a kid.” You whisper, you don’t mean for Price to hear you just hate it. You hate what’s happening right now.

“They always are.” He breathes, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure they know what they’re doing?” He asks.

“Of course, they’re experts.” You say, you force a smile. He nods the frown leaving his face. You can’t see the timer from here. Soap said 5 minutes, you’re trying to count in your head.

“Where are you from?” You ask him.

“Sakhra. What about you?”

“A little town in the south, it was destroyed when the fighting started.” You say swallowing the tears back. You need to keep your cool. You watch as Ghost moves ever so slightly, his weapon dipped in his arms. Soap opens the front door.

“What’s going on?” He asks, suddenly straightening up.

“Nothing, it’s going to be okay.” You lie, why does lying come so easily even now. You’re not sure how long is left, you stopped trying to count. Soap and Ghost move, getting into position to pull him out the door and leave him out their until the inevitable happens.

It’s cold and calculated, self preservation. He would be dead anyway, at least this way only he will get hurt. You hope there's an afterlife, Jannah or heaven, even just some kind of limbo, you hope he can see his father again.

You see Soap nod. It happens fast. Gaz steps out the way and Soap grabs him from behind. You don’t mean for a yelp to leave your throat as his screams breaks the silence in the air. You feel Price grab your arm pulling you across the room and into the kitchen. You stumble letting him pull you, pushing you behind a wall, Gaz joins you next.

You can hear him shouting, shouting for help, banging on the door that has been locked in his face.

Soap and Ghost come round the corner next. There’s a few seconds of silence then an explosion. It shakes the house, the smell of gunpowder and sulfur fills the air. Everyone walks out the kitchen. You take a second to collect yourself. Price letting go of his tight grip on your arm.

When you make it out the front door has been blown open and the window smashed in. There’s surprisingly still a body, you can’t look at it for too long.

You feel ill, he was just a kid, 17 years old. You never even asked his name.

…

You’re laid in bed staring up at the ceiling of the house. After what happened no one had the stomach to eat. Ghost and Gaz cleaned up the body, putting it in the shed. You wanted to bury it but Price said it was a waste of time, he promised the ULF would come by and deal with it. You didn’t believe him.

You were worried someone was watching the house but after Price and Soap did a sweep of the area he’s convinced whoever was watching had gone. Regardless he still said someone should be on guard just in case. He didn’t try talking about his plan to go to Russia again, he just ordered everyone to get some rest.

You can’t sleep though, your mind is plagued, you can’t get his shouting out of your head. You just threw him out in the cold to die. He must have been terrified. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you’re not built for this type of job. Soldiers kill people, so do the ULF and Al Qatala, maybe you wouldn't mind being stuck in a war room right now. It’s easier to hear about these things then witness them first hand.

You get out of bed, you can’t sleep. You might as well see if Price is still awake, maybe he’ll let you keep watch and then he can get some rest. Besides he probably sleeps better after these kind of things then you.

When you make it out into the hall every door but the bathroom is closed, you can hear snoring coming through one of them. At least someone is sleeping. You make it down the stairs and see Price leaning back on the sofa with a bottle of something on the table and a half filled glass. He doesn’t have a hat on, he’s almost always wearing one. He watches you walk and sit next to him on the sofa.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks. You lean back, shaking your head. “Want one?” He asks leaning forward to pick up his glass.

“I don’t drink.” You say, he hums finishing his glass and putting it back down on the table.

“You should get some sleep. I can keep watch.” You say pulling your legs up onto the sofa.

“It’s okay, we’ll be leaving in a few hours anyway. You look over at the window you helped Soap board up with some wood you found out back. There’s a chill in the building now.

“Do you still plan on going to Russia?” You ask. He nods.

“We have intel Jamal and Khaled are still in Volgograd.”

“How?” You ask frowning.

“CIA contact, they were able to do some snooping for us.”

“What about Al Qatala?”

“They’re still moving south, it looks like they’re going to be targeting ULF bases, Farah and Alex will have their hands full.” Price says as he reaches over to refill his glass.

“How did they know we were going to attack the base, they blew the car and sent a suicide bomber after us.” You say. He sighs again bringing the glass to his lips.

“Konni has more info than we think. Makarov is normally smarter, this isn’t like him.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Sending Al Qatala after us, something’s changed. Why Al Qatala and not Konni, people he trusts. He’s desperate.” He talks sounds like he’s talking to himself a stream of unbroken thoughts, you almost don’t want to interrupt him.

“Or maybe he just really wants you dead.” You sigh.

“Then he would have done a better job.” He looks over at you.

“You did good today.” He says, you shake your head looking away.

“I wish we could have saved him.”

“We can’t save everyone.” He finishes his drink off, putting the glass back on the table. “A Lot of the time it's us or them, we don’t always have the luxury of a choice.”

“So I guess you still want me and Soap to go back to Farah tomorrow.” You ask changing the subject. He nods. “We’ll be in contact let you know when you should come up.”

You don't say anything turning away and looking back over at the stairs, you’re not in the mood to fight with him.

“If you’re still willing to work with us?” He asks, you turn back to look at him. He's got blue eyes like Soap, his look darker, the circles under them deeper. You nod, he smiles, his hand comes to lay on your thigh. You freeze at the contact, his hand is warm, he squeezes it then gets up.

“You should try and get some rest, you have a long trip tomorrow.”

“So do you.” You say swallowing the saliva that’s built up in your mouth. You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks, he smiles at you then heads into the kitchen. You close your eyes, squeezing the bridge of your nose. You’re emotional, you’ve had a long day. There’s no way you’re crushing on Price too.

Next

Banners by plum98

[booliuu]

˗ˏˋToby Headcanons..PT2ˎˊ˗

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : this is a continuation of my first headcanons oh him. Here’s the * link* if you haven’t check it out yet, btw thanks for almost 50 likes😭😭 you guys are so sweet!! anyways enjoy of me rambling about this man again :DD🫶🏼

• my inbox is open for ask and requests!!

🪓 . . He’s a taurus baaabies ( b-day April 28th!) .. may i add something too👉👈 i just know in the bottom of my heart my man def has a sagittarius moon placement or lots of fire signs placements in his birth chart. SCORPIO VENUS TOO 👀👀 he loves so intenselyyy. okok anyways-

🪓 . . He has so many piercings!! I can definitely say on his face he has a septum , nostril , bridge ,and a snake bite 😮‍💨. And for his ears he has industrial, lobes ( thought about stretching his lobes but is too scared lol) and conches done.

➯ went a bit crazy with his piercing bc his parents were so against him getting them done during his high school years. But now that he’s an adult he goes all out.

➯ takes great care of them too! ^^

🪓 . . wears fingerless gloves to mange with his rlly bad hand picking habit. don’t have nails bc how bad his his habits are :((.

🪓 . . Owns a lot of graphic tee’s and most of them are bands that he never heard of before lmao same🥲. Whatever shirt he’s wearing that day a creep or random ppl ask him what’s his favorite song or album is , he gets all awkward and he’s stands like an idiot like🧍.

➯ all sorts of baggy and ripped jeans as well ! Not a fan of tight clothes. Absolutely despises them.

🪓 . . has LOTS of scars that goes all the way back from his childhood.

🪓 . . Him & Tim before DID NOT get along at all. MAJOR BEEF WITH EACH OTHER 😭. whenever both of them were assigned on missions together, they ALWAYS be arguing about the littlest things.

* this is looong sorry ><i just love the idea that tim cares for toby. so bare with meee🥹🥹

➯ Mainly because tim behavior rubs toby the wrong way. It reminds him of his father in some ways and gets highly defensive whenever tim tells him what to do or criticizes him.

➯ Tim thinks toby as a ruthless teenager ( even though he clearly knows he an adult.) thinks he needs to be told what to do at all times . Even though he a rough exterior … little does toby know he cares about toby a lot. But of course there both to stubborn as hell to tell each that 😑.

➯ until one day toby accidentally let a victim loose. when tim found out got extremely upset at toby. The yelling definitely brought Toby thoughts of his father, as a defense mechanism toby argued back . Got a bit physical but overall LOTS of yelling, brian ( the savior-) had to step in and tell them to get over it and be nice to each for once.

➯ took a WHILE for them to apologize but they did eventually. was a bit awkward but hey at least there over it :,D . Now of days they almost have a father and son dynamic. Sometimes when both of have free time tim will show toby how to fix up a car, how to cook on a grill , yk bonding.

➯ brings Toby lots of nostalgia and confusion because he never treated like this by man before bc the only nice people he was surrounded by in his whole life was just is his mom and his sister . so surely his inner child is slowly healing. when he actually took a chance and thought about tim’s behavior towards him one night, he had to sit down for bit , beer in hand ( definitely not given by tim-) cry for a bit while tim rubs his back in comforting way while smoking a cigarette ofc.

🪓 . . owns torn up converse and doc martens. TONS of hoodies, leather jackets and winter jackets!

🪓 . . HIS ROOM!! oh good god…it’s so unorganized. mostly because his collection of clothes he picked up over the years that he borrowed TvT iykyk… never bothers to clean it. his own words not mine

Toby: “ it’s my man c-cave. my rules.”

Tim: *SIGHS*“ jesus fucking christ….. your a mess.”

🪓 . . Speaking of his room it has lots of band posters and tapestry’s!

🪓 . . Knows so much animals facts.. it’s actually scary but entertaining.he literally bring up in random ways possible. that’s toby for yea..!! :DD

🪓 . . His favorite animals consists of what’s around him in the slender forest. such deers, raccoons, fox & wolf , birds , bears and has a love for reptiles as well.

🪓 . . lol if your scared of bugs i feel sorry for you , reptiles or just any animals i have listed…he’s def the type of friend that has it cupped in his hand and shoving it in your face. Lives for your reaction. 🩷

🪓 . . a bit awkward and has a cold front when you first meet him. he likes to observe, doesn’t trust ppl easily. If he likes you slowly opens his shell and he shows his true colors such being a little shit, teasing you playful ofc, butting head with you 24/7. eeehh..but if he hates you good luck with this one… he make it known he doesn’t like you . you won’t know but others who know him do.

🪓 . . Growing up he was known for being the shy quiet kid that never speaks up for himself. He thinks about it now and really started changing meaning slowly and eventually he became more confident. like throwing sarcastic comments , knows lots of good clap backs or calling out’s if someone offended him or something. he’s changed man guys nothing like his younger self. proud of him 🥹

🪓 . . I see ppl saying that he’s the kind of friend that wants to be around you 24/7. 100% agree 👍 . yk hanging out in yours or his rooms for like smoke breaks, joining you during missions, watching tiktok’s & sending them to you even though your in the same room as he is , or even just simply pure silent and just basking in each others presence.

Toby: t-t-this is so you…

Toby: * sents you a tiktok*

You: bruh wtfff

* cue him laughing his ass off

🪓 . . Going to the local drug store to grab some slushes and junk food. HE LIVES FOR THOSE HANGS OUTS. TELL ME IM WRONG.

› › › i’ll make sure to be more in depth with this one :3 so be in a look out for some platonic toby headcanons the future!!! ^^

🪓 . . Everytime someone says toby loves waffles sighs…. man i’m telling you right now an angel loses it wings ☹️ 👎. He has extended food palette than that y’all c’mon.

🪓 . . i mean it’s not the best diet… it literally just energy drinks but at least his friends look out for him and leave him take out because they know he doesn’t feel hunger like we do.

🪓 . . due to that, he has a lean built. Has a bit of a 6 pack ( you have to squint to see em ) and has muscles on his arms . He’s really proud of his arms lol. Has a bit of beard?? Scruff?? idk what’s it’s called going on too ^^ shaves ones in a while. aaaand..hehe has a happy trail situation... ANYWAYSSSS that’s for next time 😉.

🪓 . . yk how how i said he has a collection of phones he… collected *cough🪓🪓 cough*… firm believer he has playlist in each phone of them that consists of western emo music. also.. DAD ROCK .

🪓 . . his favorite weather has to be autumn because the animals around forest comes out more and he hangs out and pets all of them. likes looking at the trees and how each of the leaves are changing colors.

🪓 . . his joints pop loud real bad whenever he stretching , walking , or running . it pisses him so badly lolll.

🪓 . . loves sleeping and taking naps🫶🏼 whenever or whatever. like tree tops , his bed, closet, ect. hates mornings with passion prefers to sleep in. toby 🤞power naps . downside being that he snores like no one business and moves around his sleep.

🪓 . . blind on his left eye and that same eye has a permanent split eyebrow from the car crash.

🪓 . . Even though i want say he smells like vanilla or something sweet naaah …. srry bby😔. he gotta smell like the woods , dirt, bl*od.. sometimes , or even pinewood. From time to time smells like cheap shampoo and conditioner when he remembers to shower.

🪓 . . lastly his hair.. HIS 👏HAIR 😭😭 it’s so soft…he’s rocking shaggy haircut that tim trims once in a while.

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜: @bloodibambiidol & @kodaswrld ✨ there stuff is cool check it out!

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : HEEEEY IM BACK, i know posted 2-3?? days ago and honestly im so happy to it has so many likes already. thank you so much 🫶🏼 it means so much to me!! i’ll try to post as consistent as i can but no promises. 😣As of right now my wips are a bunch of toby headcanons and one shots i need to finish and post and dw other characters too dww🤍🤍.

* feedback is always welcome. if you like my content please don’t get to like or reblog ^^.

liuuboo2025 do not copy , translate or plagiarize any of my works. thank you ♡ﾟ

[mingi-s-dimples]

Strictly Confidential - San

~"Hiii❤️Can you pls write one where you are the mafia San’s lawyer, but since you are kind hearted and innocent ( not naive) he got his eyes on you??Corruption kink, (iffff it’s ok with you reader can be a virgin), dirty talk (including how much he was longing for you and waiting to take you), mild bondage, possessiveness, (reader has a crush on San too but wouldn’t think San would even look at them), pampering reader while ripping them into half <3 thank youuu❤️" ~ sweetie you also added sth about pregnancy but unfortunately I don't write those😞 but I loved the idea so I just didn't add the pregnancy talk ^^ hope you like ittt 🤍

pairing: ceo!san x lawyer fem!reader

genre: filth, 18+

summary: your outfit is *just* a little bit too revealing for San to not react.. and later that evening, he drops on his knees for you, then he ruins you.

wc: 5.5k

warnings: ceo!san, possessive san, slightly controlling san, corruption kink *just slightly*, reader is a virgin, restraining/light bondage (her hands tied up with san's belt), office sex, he doesn't even bother to take her skirt off, san's desperate, he eats her out, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk/degradation (slut), praising (good girl), ass spanking, face pushing (into the desk), pounding *literally*, vaginal sex, teasing, unprotected (booo use protection irl!), completely consensual!, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: why do I feel like this one is written better than my last San request..? either way y'all will see I DAMN enjoyed writing this one 😂 the detailssss sjsjshsuushs controlling san sjshshshs possessive san ajsjshhs and so on I'm biting my knuckles as we speak. I hope you all enjoy it ^^ ly guys 🎀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You should’ve known the outfit would push him too far.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not at first. The silk blouse, a shade too light, clung in ways that weren’t entirely professional, the top button left undone just enough to hint at something softer underneath. The skirt hugged your waist, cutting off at mid-thigh when you sat, revealing just a sliver more skin than usual. It wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t against the rules. But it was enough.

Enough to make Choi San snap.

You’ve been his lawyer for months now—long enough to know that he watches you more than he should. Long enough to catch the way his gaze lingers when you speak, dark eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up as if he didn’t mean to. Long enough to hear the shift in his voice when he says your name, the slow drag of it on his tongue.

You’ve known, and you’ve played along—just a little. Just enough to keep things interesting.

But today, something is different and you feel it the second you step into his office.

San is already standing, a rare thing given that he usually prefers to remain seated behind his desk, lazy and composed, as if the world itself is something he can toy with at his leisure. But now, he’s braced against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes pinned on you the moment the door clicks shut behind you.

His silence is thick, crackling with something dark and unreadable.

Slowly, you set your leather portfolio onto the desk, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Something wrong, Mr. Choi?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something sharper. “Come here.”

A demand, not a request.

You raise a brow. “I thought we had business to discuss.”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

It’s a warning. A test.

And you should say no. You should keep things professional. You should sit in the chair across from his desk like you always do, open your portfolio, and get straight to business. But you don’t.

Instead, you take a step forward. Then another.

San stays perfectly still, watching, waiting, as if savoring the moment. When you finally stop in front of him, barely an arm’s length away, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of leather and spice wrapping around you like a slow-burning fire.

He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s about to dismantle. Then, his eyes drop—slow, deliberate.

Your blouse. Your throat. The delicate slope of your collarbone. The soft curve of your chest where the undone button reveals just a little too much.

His jaw tightens.

And just like that, you realize—he’s been holding himself back.

For months, he’s played this game with you, circling, waiting, indulging in stolen glances and veiled innuendos. But today, you’ve tipped the scales. Today, you’ve worn something that makes him forget to be careful.

San exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused, almost like he’s irritated with himself. Then, without warning, he reaches out.

Fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face up.

“You did this on purpose.” His voice is low, rougher than before.

You don’t flinch. Don’t waver. Instead, you smile—slow, knowing. “Did what?”

San laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Cute.”

His thumb brushes over your jaw, barely a whisper of a touch, but the intent behind it is unmistakable. He’s testing. Measuring.

And you let him.

Because for all his power, for all his control—he’s the one unraveling.

His gaze dips to your lips, lingers there. When he speaks again, his voice is even lower, dangerously smooth.

“You walk in here looking like this and expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to be professional,” you say, and you make sure to let the words drip with teasing, with something that is not quite innocence but plays at the edges of it.

San hums. “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trail down, brushing the column of your throat.

You don’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, you tilt your head slightly, just enough for his thumb to press against the hollow of your throat. Just enough to let him feel the pulse beneath your skin.

San stills.

Then—he moves.

One hand splays against your hip, gripping, tugging you closer until you’re barely a breath apart. His other hand trails up, slipping beneath the loose collar of your blouse, fingertips skimming over bare skin. It’s barely a touch, barely anything at all—yet it sets every nerve alight.

“You’re not as innocent as you look.” His voice is dark, laced with something dangerously indulgent.

You smile, lashes lowering just slightly. “I never said I was.”

San’s grip tightens.

And for the first time since you stepped into his office, you think you might have miscalculated.

Because you’ve been teasing him for months. Playing at the edges of this, knowing he wanted you but never letting him have enough to tip the scales.

But now?

Now, you can feel it—the shift, the moment he decides.

He isn’t going to let you play anymore.

You should resist.

You should step back, put distance between you and the man currently pressing you into the edge of his desk like he has every intention of keeping you there.

But you don’t.

Not really.

Instead, you let your hands press against his chest, the silk of his dress shirt warm beneath your fingertips. It’s a flimsy excuse for protest, a barrier that does nothing because you both know—if you really wanted to stop him, you would.

San catches the movement, and for a moment, he stills.

Dark eyes flicker to yours, sharp and assessing, scanning your face for something—hesitation, uncertainty, anything that might make him reconsider.

You arch a brow, lips curling just slightly. “A little desperate, aren’t we?”

San exhales sharply through his nose, and then—he laughs.

Low, rough, almost wrecked.

And then he moves.

Faster than you expect, pinning you between the hard edge of his desk and the even harder press of his body. His hand slides up, fingers catching your wrist, pressing your palm flat against his chest. The other settles low on your waist, fingertips digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs.

Your heart stutters.

Because you’ve had a crush on him for months.

Ever since you first met him, ever since you realized the sharp-edged CEO persona wasn’t just for show. He was powerful, ruthless, magnetic in a way that made people obey without question. And yet, he’d always been just a little different with you. Always watching, always waiting.

But you never let yourself believe he actually wanted you.

Not like this.

Not enough to snap.

San must see something in your expression, because his grip tightens. “You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is smooth, but there’s something else beneath it—something rough, something frayed. “You think I haven’t seen the way you play with me?”

His lips brush against your cheek, not quite kissing, not quite touching, just a slow, maddening drag of heat.

“You walk into my office every week, looking like you don’t belong in a place like this, looking like you shouldn’t be anywhere near men like me.”

His mouth ghosts over your jaw, just shy of where you want him.

“And yet…” His hand slides lower, fingers teasing over the fabric of your skirt. “You always let me get too close.”

A slow, teasing exhale against your skin.

“You’ve been testing me, haven’t you?”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of an immediate response.

So instead, you tilt your head ever so slightly, forcing him to drag his lips against your skin in the process. “Maybe,” you whisper.

San curses under his breath.

And the next second he’s kissing you.

Hard. Desperate.

It’s not soft, not tentative—it’s months of restraint snapping like a live wire. His hand slides up, tangling in your hair, angling your head back to deepen the kiss, to take more. His tongue parts your lips, claiming your mouth with a hunger that makes your knees weak.

He kisses like he owns you. Like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling, clawing, needing more.

San groans against your lips, and then he’s pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are red from kissing you, and he looks completely, utterly wrecked.

“I’ve waited for this.” His voice is rough, frayed with something unspoken. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I didn’t feel it every single time you walked through that door, acting so fucking innocent, knowing damn well what you were doing to me?”

His fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I wanted to ruin you the moment I met you.”

Your breath shudders.

San notices. Smirks.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower, teasing. “You want me to take what you’ve been tempting me with?”

You shouldn’t say yes.

You should make him work for it.

But the way he looks at you—the way his body presses against yours, the way his fingers trace slow, maddening circles over your hip—has you completely undone.

So instead, you breathe, “Yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

San makes a sound—something dark, something pleased—before his lips crash back against yours, hungry and unrelenting. His hands are everywhere, gripping, pressing, mapping out every inch of you like he wants to memorize it.

He kisses down your throat, sucks a mark into your skin, groaning when you arch into him. “Mine,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “You don’t get to tease me anymore. Not after this.”

You shudder, nails digging into his shoulders.

And then, finally, you surrender completely.

San doesn’t hesitate.

One moment, you’re standing against his desk, breathless from the force of his kiss, and the next—his hands are gripping your waist, lifting you with ease. A gasp slips past your lips as he sets you down onto the cool wooden surface, the shift in height making you acutely aware of how much he towers over you.

The movement sends half the contents of his desk crashing to the floor. A pen rolls somewhere unseen. Papers scatter in a careless mess. He doesn’t care.

Neither do you.

Not when his hands slide up your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space for himself between them. Not when his mouth crashes back onto yours, all heat and teeth, breathy and desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

It’s overwhelming.

The way he kisses you—possessive, unrelenting, like he’s been starved for this, for you. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as if he’s anchoring himself to you, as if letting go isn’t an option.

And you—

You kiss him back just as fiercely.

Your hands find purchase in his suit jacket, tugging him closer, needing more, gasping softly when he presses flush against you. His warmth, his scent—everything about him consumes you.

Then—

You break away.

Not because you want to, but because there’s something you need to say.

Your chest rises and falls, lips kiss-bruised, head spinning. San doesn’t move away, his forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your lips.

“What?” His voice is wrecked, strained with restraint he’s barely holding onto.

Your fingers tighten against his jacket.

“I—I’m a virgin.”

San stills.

Completely.

You watch as his expression shifts—dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, something dangerous. His grip on your waist tightens for a second before he stills again, as if forcing himself to process what you just said.

Then—

He exhales sharply, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and the slow, wicked curl of his mouth makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck.”

The word is low, rough, dragged out like he’s savoring it.

His hands move again, sliding over your thighs with newfound purpose, fingertips teasing against your exposed skin. He leans in, lips grazing over your jaw, down the column of your throat, tracing the shape of you with agonizing precision.

“You’re serious?” he murmurs against your skin.

You swallow hard, nodding.

San lets out another rough exhale, then pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression dark with something unreadable, something deeply, deeply pleased.

“You have no idea,” he says slowly, deliberately, “what that does to me.”

Your breath hitches.

His lips find yours once more, but this time, the kiss is different. Slower, more calculated, yet no less intense. He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you respond to every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

His fingers trail up, reaching the buttons of your blouse, and he undoes them one by one, exposing more of you with every slow, deliberate flick of his hands. He doesn’t rush.

No—San takes his time.

And you let him.

Your breath stutters when he pushes the fabric aside, revealing bare skin, delicate lace. The cool air makes you shiver—or maybe it’s just him, the way his gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of you.

He curses under his breath.

His fingers twitch like he wants to touch, to claim, to devour.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with something reverent, something wrecked.

And then—

He starts undoing his own buttons.

The sight alone has you utterly mesmerized.

You watch, transfixed, as he shrugs off his jacket, as he unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth, sculpted skin. He moves slowly, almost teasingly, as if drawing out the moment just to watch your reaction.

And you—

You can’t help but stare.

San is unfairly gorgeous.

Broad shoulders, toned muscles, a physique that looks like it was carved by gods themselves. The way the soft glow of the office light catches against the lines of his body, the dips and curves of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his collarbones—it's intoxicating.

And then, your gaze drops lower.

And you freeze.

Oh.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the full weight of his cock straining against his pants and pressing on your body.

San catches your reaction, and the smirk that pulls at his lips is nothing short of devastating.

“Mesmerized?” His voice is low, teasing, laced with amusement and something else—something darker.

You don’t answer.

Can’t.

Not when the heat of his body is so close, not when his fingers are still trailing over your skin, slow and deliberate.

And then, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers—

“You should be.”

San watches you like he’s already won.

Like you’ve been his from the moment you walked into his office, oblivious to the fire you were playing with.

His fingers trace along your exposed collarbone, slow and teasing, barely touching, but enough to make your skin prickle with heat. His eyes drag over you, dark and ravenous, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your thighs are still parted for him, your skirt hiked up from how recklessly he had pulled you onto his desk.

Then—he smirks.

That slow, knowing smirk that makes something in your stomach coil tight.

“You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” His voice is deep, smooth as silk, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

You swallow, fingers curling against the desk, but you don’t answer.

He tilts his head, almost amused. “Showing up dressed like that—” His hands slide down, fingers skimming the fabric of your skirt, teasing at the hem. “Looking so damn innocent but wearing something like this? You were begging for it.”

Your breath catches, a slow heat creeping up your spine.

San leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Such a little whore, dressing like this just to test me.”

A sharp inhale leaves you.

He chuckles darkly, dragging his lips down to your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His tongue flicks against your pulse point, his teeth scraping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Or were you hoping I’d lose control?”

His fingers tighten on your waist.

“Because you got exactly what you wanted.”

Your head spins.

He’s too much—his voice, his hands, the way he’s looking at you like he’s about to ruin you in ways you never even imagined.

San pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and something dark flickers behind his eyes.

Then—

He gets an idea.

His smirk deepens as he looks over your shoulder at the discarded mess on the floor. Then, before you can question it, he steps back slightly, reaching down.

A soft rustle of fabric, the quiet slide of leather—

And then you see it.

The belt he had discarded with his pants that pooled at his ankles.

Your stomach flips.

San runs his tongue over his bottom lip, holding the belt loosely in one hand, testing the weight of it. Then, he meets your gaze again, and for the first time since this started—you shiver.

Possessive.

That’s the only word for the way he looks at you now.

Like you belong to him.

Like he’s about to make sure you never forget it.

“You’ve had too much freedom tonight,” he murmurs, stepping back into your space, the belt dangling from his fingers. “And I think it’s about time we fix that.”

Your pulse spikes.

San reaches for you, his hands trailing down your arms before he gently—so gently—grabs your wrists.

“Give them to me.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a command.

Your lips part slightly, but when you don’t immediately respond, San hums, tilting his head. “Oh?” He smirks. “Are you hesitating now?”

He presses closer, making you lean back slightly, making you feel the solid weight of his body.

“That’s cute.”

You swallow hard, the heat between you becoming unbearable.

San’s fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists. “I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart—” His voice dips, eyes locked onto yours. “If I tie you up, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

A slow, deliberate pause.

Then, he leans in and whispers against your lips—

“You sure you can handle that?”

Your breath is shallow, chest rising and falling as San watches you, waiting. His fingers tighten around your wrists, the belt still dangling from his hand, ready to bind you, ready to claim every inch of control you’ve willingly given up.

And you—

You should hesitate.

You should resist, tease him a little longer.

But you don’t.

Instead, you tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Do it, then.”

A flicker of something dark—dangerous—passes through his eyes. Then, his smirk returns, sharp and satisfied. “Good girl.”

The leather is cool against your skin as he pulls your wrists behind your back, looping the belt around them with practiced ease. It’s not too tight—just enough to hold you there, to remind you who’s in control.

He tugs once, testing the restraint, then hums in approval. “Perfect.”

Before you can process the way your body reacts to that single word, San moves.

His hands slide to your thighs, gripping firmly as he pulls you forward.

Hard.

A gasp leaves your lips as your body jerks, dragged right to the edge of the desk. Your legs part instinctively to accommodate the shift, your breath catching as you feel the undeniable heat of him between them.

San watches your reaction with a lazy smirk. “That’s better.”

Then—

He drops to his knees.

San doesn’t even look away from you as he does it, his movements deliberate, dripping with control. The sight alone—his broad shoulders between your legs, his dark, hungry gaze looking up at you like he’s about to devour you whole—leaves you breathless.

And then—his hands move again.

He doesn’t bother with your skirt.

No.

He slides his fingers along the inside of your thighs, parting them further, his grip firm—possessive. Then, with agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls.

A soft, humiliatingly wet sound follows as he drags the fabric down, exposing just how ruined you already are.

San freezes.

And then—

He chuckles.

A low, deep sound that sends heat shooting straight through your spine.

“Fuck,” he exhales, pressing his thumb against the now-soaked fabric before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Look at you.”

Your face burns, but the way he’s looking at you—with pure, unfiltered hunger—makes shame the last thing on your mind.

Then—he leans in.

And without another word—

He dives in.

San doesn’t hold back.

The moment his mouth touches your folds, a wrecked gasp escapes your lips, your bound hands straining against the belt as your body jerks from the sheer heat of it.

He groans against you, the vibration making you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens—bruising, possessive—as he presses you further against his mouth, like he’s determined to ruin you.

And he does.

His tongue moves with devastating precision—slow, languid strokes, teasing flicks, then firm pressure against your clit that makes your head spin. He eats you like a man starved, like he’s waited his entire life to have you like this, legs trembling around his shoulders, breathless and undone.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips glisten with your arousal, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, wrecked with hunger. “So fucking sweet.”

Your face burns, but before you can process it, he’s back on you, his tongue pressing in deeper, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

A broken whimper leaves you.

San chuckles—dark, teasing. He pulls back again, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, pressing slow, wet kisses against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement and something deeper. “Fucking soaking. And all for me?”

You whine, shifting against his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

His teeth graze your thigh, just enough to make you gasp. “You pretend to be so innocent,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, “but look at how filthy you are. Spreading your legs so easily, letting me taste you like this.”

Your breath stutters, shame and arousal tangling into something unbearable.

San hums, satisfied. “I bet you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” He flicks his tongue against your clit again, making you jolt. “Bet you’ve thought about me bending you over this desk. Tearing you apart.”

His words wreck you.

A high, needy moan spills from your lips, your bound hands clenching behind you.

San groans against you. “That’s it,” he breathes, his tongue moving faster now, pushing you closer, higher. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you down, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he’s drowning you in.

Your body tightens, the pressure coiling in your stomach unbearably, winding, winding—

Until it snaps.

A sobbed moan rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders, your back arching as you cry out, utterly wrecked.

San doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re whimpering, twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation.

Only then does he slow, his tongue giving you one last, languid stroke before pulling back.

He looks ruined.

His lips are swollen, his hair slightly disheveled, his breath ragged as he stares at you, utterly transfixed. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your thigh before standing.

Your dazed gaze drops—

And your breath catches.

His briefs are painfully tight around his cock, the sheer size of him making your stomach flip.

San curses under his breath, yanking them down in one swift motion.

And then—he’s on you.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading you further as he aligns himself, the heat of him pressing against your still-sensitive core.

Your breath stutters. “San—”

He doesn’t wait.

With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside—

And you break.

A cry rips from your lips, your body arching at the sheer stretch, the way he fills you so completely, so overwhelmingly. Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he buries himself to the hilt, not moving, just feeling you.

San groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands tightening on your waist. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is wrecked, trembling with restraint. “You feel so—” He exhales sharply, dropping a kiss against your lips, almost tender.

He soothes you.

One hand trails up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice soft, but his body trembles against yours, barely holding himself back.

And then—he moves.

Destroying you.

Every thrust is deep, dragging against your sensitive walls with devastating precision, pushing you to the brink of insanity. Your bound hands twist behind you, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto, but there’s nothing.

Nothing but him.

And he knows it.

His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls back, making you feel every inch of him, before sinking in again—so deep, so full that you can’t stop the moan that spills from your lips.

San groans, the sound low and wrecked. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, kissing—nipping. “You hear yourself? You're a fucking whiny mess just for me.”

Your face burns, but the humiliation only makes the pleasure worse—makes your body clench around him, desperate for more.

San feels it. And he looses it.

A sharp growl rumbles from his chest as his pace stays agonizingly slow, but his words turn filthy, raw. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, rolling his hips deep, making you cry out. “Like you were made for me.”

You are.

The thought is dangerous, but it lingers.

San notices.

His fingers trail up your stomach, his touch warm, teasing, possessive. His other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, ravenous.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Wearing that little outfit—acting all innocent when you’re dripping for me.”

His hips snap forward, a little harder, and you gasp.

San smirks. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

The teasing should make you flinch, should make you want to shy away—but you don’t.

Because you love it.

Because you love him like this—feral, corrupted, completely obsessed with you.

Your moans break into whimpers as his thrusts turn deeper, sharper, but still so slow, so cruelly controlled that your body starts trembling. “San—”

He shushes you.

His lips brush over your temple, soft in contrast to the way he’s utterly wrecking you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”

And yet—

It’s not enough.

For him.

For you.

San curses under his breath, frustration clear in the way his fingers tighten on your waist. “I can’t—” His breath is ragged. “I can’t fucking hold back.”

Before you can process—

San moves.

His grip locks around you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. Your back hits the desk, but before you can fully catch your breath, he flips you over.

Your palms slam against the your back, the belt still binding them, your cheek pressing into the cool surface as San forces you down, arching you for him.

A sharp sound echoes in the room.

You gasp.

San’s palm stays on your ass where he just spanked you, rubbing over the heated skin, his breath heavy behind you. “Mhm,” he hums, dark, pleased.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“That’s more like it.”

Your body is trembling—wrecked, pinned under San’s weight as he presses you against the desk, his grip firm on your waist. His breath is heavy, hot against your skin, his patience fraying with every second.

And then—

You say it.

A teasing little whisper, breathless, barely a murmur—

“San.. you can go- harder.”

A guttural growl rips from his throat, and then—he ruins you.

His grip tightens bruisingly on your hips as he slams into you, deep and relentless, each thrust sharp, overwhelming, making you choke on your own moans.

He pounds into you, his cock pushing impossibly deep, so deep that— He hits your cervix.

A sharp cry tears from your throat, your bound hands clenching behind you as the intense stimulation sends a wave of pleasurable pain crashing over you.

San hears it. Feels it. Loses it.

“Yeah?” he rasps, voice wrecked, his pace punishing. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He thrusts harder, making you wail. “Wanted me to break you?”

The way he’s holding you—gripping your waist tight, pressing you down deep into the desk, his chest flush against your back as he fucks into you like he’s starving—

It’s too much.

He feels the way you tremble beneath him, the way your body clings to him, drawing him in, taking everything he gives.

His breath is ragged, his groans turning into curses.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, his thrusts becoming desperate. “So fucking tight, so fucking wet—”

He grips your wrists, still bound behind your back, and pulls, arching you further, making your back bow into him, making you yake him deeper.

A wrecked sob escapes you.

San curses. “That’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking. “Fucking take it.”

He pounds into you, hips snapping, rhythm frenzied, his cock hitting that spot over and over until you’re a mess beneath him—whimpering, crying, begging.

And you could swear he fucking loves it.

“Listen to you,” he pants, his lips brushing over your ear, his breath ragged. “Crying for me—so desperate.”

You are. But he’s no better.

His grip tightens, his thrusts turning frantic, his moans growing shaky, and you can inly feel how damn close he is. And he knows it.

His pace falters for half a second—just long enough for him to lean over you, his lips grazing your ear as he breathes, voice dark, rough, possession dripping from every word—.

“I’ll fill you up just like you’ve probably been fantasizing over for a while, you little slut.”

And then—

He breaks.

A deep, wrecked moan tears from his chest as he thrusts deep, his body shuddering violently as he spills into you, warmth flooding your insides as his grip on your wrists turns almost bruising.

But he doesn’t stop.

Even as he comes, he keeps moving, keeps pounding into you, pushing you over the edge right after him.

Your body shatters.

A high, sobbed moan rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening, pulsing around him, drawing out his own orgasm, making him groan, curse, whisper filth and praise against your skin.

You gasp his name—

And San loses himself all over again.

His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides both of you through your highs, his lips pressing against your shoulder, your spine, soothing you while still wrecking you.

You could barely move.

Your arms are still bound, your body limp against the desk, your breath coming in ragged, exhausted gasps.

San finally stills.

His chest rises and falls against your back, his grip on your wrists loosening, his breath hot against your skin.

And then—

A satisfied, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

San exhales, his grip softening as he slowly lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. His hands are gentle now, his touch the exact opposite of how he just wrecked you. With careful precision, he sets you down on the desk, his fingers immediately moving to untie your wrists.

The moment they’re free, he brings them to his lips, kissing the delicate skin as if to soothe away any marks left behind. His gaze meets yours, still dark, still possessive, but now filled with something softer.

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Can’t have you walking out of here looking like this, baby.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your blouse from where it was discarded, slipping it over your shoulders, his touch slow, careful, reverent. His fingers linger as he buttons it up, his eyes roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

Then, he leans in, kissing you.

Deep, slow, lingering. Like he’s still not ready to let go.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your lips, his voice a low murmur. “Come on,” he says. “We’re taking a shower.”

Your brows raise slightly. “Here?”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Not in the office, baby.” He eyes you, his woman, his masterpiece, before smirking. “And I’m sure as hell not letting anyone see you like this on our way there.”

You laugh, amused by his protectiveness, and his smirk widens.

“Laugh all you want,” he muses, scooping you up again. “But you’re mine. And I don’t share.”

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[cillians-sweetheart]

https://www.tumblr.com/cillians-sweetheart/772157725448847360/whos-got-fic-ideas-i-got-writers

Maybe Cills with a younger reader (25-35 ish?) and they actually decided not to have more children but she gets accidentally pregnant? But of angst but ends with fluff? Sorry very basic 😭

Not basic! Love it!! 😋 And I hope you love it too!

A Miracle Arrival - Cillian Murphy

Cillian Murphy(36) x Wife!Reader(25)

Plot: After a date night, Y/N and Cillian put the kids to bed and have some well needed alone time that ends in an unexpected surprise.

Content: kissing, slight sexual content, speak of menstruation, marriage, kids, pregnancy, emotional melt down (f), fluff

During our four years of marriage, people would expect that after a few months, our desires towards each other would just disappear and we wouldn't crave to touch each other day to day. But that wasn’t the case. In a marriage between two heavily passionate lovers meant that our love from our wedding day to today, never changed. Not even fading in the slightest.

Already at age 25, I’ve had 2 beautiful children. The perfect duo of an older daughter (Georgia), and younger son (Christian), ages three and one. Our daughter, now being able to speak full sentences, has begun to develop Cillians accent. But it wasn't surprising as she always took after him, and loved him more than me. And my son is the opposite, a mini me with his looks and attitude.

We decided after having Christian that we were done for children. Having two toddlers was difficult but also I couldn't picture myself going through labour ever again. Two was enough.

On a Friday evening, Cillians mother came by the house to watch the children for a few hours and put them to bed while he and I went out. We learned that monthly dates help keep the spark in our relationship. It wasn’t that we didn’t feel anything towards each other anymore, we just feared that someday that spark would be gone.

“So… I was thinking that after dinner, we would send mom home and just lay low in the bedroom for the night. Yeah?” Cillian offered, holding his glass of wine in his hand. .

“Yes,” I answered, reading through the menu. “I don’t really have the energy for anything fancy. Laying in bed sounds perfect.”

And that’s what we did. At first.

When we got home his mother sat in the living room reading a book, but left shortly after as we were now home. The house was silent and the kids were asleep. We didn’t waste a single moment to finally be lazy after both of our long days.

We changed into comfortable clothes, and cuddled closely beneath the warm duvet. The tv played a show we hadn’t paid attention to and the tension between us grew hotter with each passing moment. And once our single kiss became sloppy and never-ending, the tv came off. As with our clothes.

It all happened so quickly. In just seconds he was above me kissing roughly at my neck, and my legs tightly wrapped around his hips. We didn’t think about anything in the moment, nothing but wanting more from each other's bodies. The pleasure filling both of us made it almost impossible to stay quiet. I had to bite back moans, hiding in his muscular shoulder.

After the hour which felt of 20 minutes, we both fell weak side by side. I didn’t think of anything but just being ready to go to sleep in the arms of the man I loved.

A month went by and life carried on -as usual- I was ‘delightfully’ greeted by an absence of my period. Normally I wouldn’t care, but I’m a week overdue. My heart sank at the possible reason why I was like this. Why I was late, nauseated, and really hungry.

While Cillian was off at work I stopped by the drug store and to the aisle I really didn’t want to be in. With rows and rows of pregnancy tests. I looked over my shoulders and quickly scanned over the several options of tests. I picked the cheapest one to not cause suspicion on Cillian and I’s shared credit card. If it had to come to it, I’d say I bought the kids some candy.

I waited anxiously for the remainder of the day. I was terrified to take that test, but also itching to get an answer. If I were pregnant, I’d need to plan what was going to happen, and if I wasn’t I could’ve been rattled for nothing. So I took the test.

I hid myself in Cillian and I’s bathroom while he made supper for the kids. The test shook from my shaky hands as my eyes squeezed shut waiting for it to be done. And after two minutes, I flipped the little plastic stick towards me. two bright red lines.

My mind went blank. I was in shock, and felt nothing. Until a minute after the fear kicked in and I cried and puked the way I did when pregnant with Christian. All those memories of my fat, stretched skin, and agonzing contractions, came back to me like a bullet to the skull. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t afford another child, nor could my body. How would I ever tell Cillian…

It wasn’t until 5 minutes later I was able to clear my tears. Quickly, I coated my face in concealer to hide the redness to not cause worry to Cillian or our children. I put on an awkward grin and entered the kitchen to where Cillian had been spoon feeding our youngest, and Georgia putting her food everywheres it wasn't supposed to.

“Hey,” He turned his head towards me, standing straight from kneeling on the floor. “You alright?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“Yeah I just needed to use the bathroom.” I walked past him with a napkin and wiped our daughter's messy face.

Cillian didn’t take any suspicion, and continued to feed Christian and clean the kitchen. He was always so good with them. Like he could hundreds and do perfectly fine. But there was no way I was having a third child. Because it was me that would actually birth them, not him.

After supper with the kids tucked into bed, Cillian and I sat closely on the couch in the living room watching the Tv. My legs laid over his lap and my head rested against his shoulder. His gentle hand lightly stroked my thigh. I began to remember all those feelings from earlier. The fear, the angst, the pain. Tightness grew in my chest and my face turned cold. I was frozen in my spot. Tears welding in my eyes.

My breath being held and my slight shaking caught Cillian’s attention from the Tv. Taking the remote in his hand, he turned the Tv off and turned his face down to mine.”Y/N? Baby.” He took my cheek in his hand and turned me to look at him. “What’s going on?” His voice held concern but tenderness. His thumb lightly rubbing my cheek.

“I um…” I froze up, looking down with a single tear falling from my right eye. I debated in my head with other answers besides the truth to tell him. I dreaded telling him such a thing.

“What love?” His face leaned down closer to mine with sympathy in his eyes.

“I- I’m pregnant.” My eyes fell down to my lap with shame. It became silent for a moment. An unbreakable tension grew heavy between us.

“Are you- Really?” I nodded with another tear rolling down my cheek. “Oh sweetheart.” Cillian pulled me into his chest, holding me while I broke down into the same emotional state I was when pregnant with Georgia and Christian.

Cillian lightly rubbed my belly while his other hand stroked my back.

“I don't know what to do.” I sniffled and choked on my tears. “I can’t do this… I’m already a crap mom, I- I can't have another one!” I said with irritation mostly towards myself.

“No you’re not love.” Cillian cooed, kissing the top of my head.

“But,” I mumbled. “You do so much for them… while I hide in the bathroom.”

He took my face in my hands looking seriously into my eyes. “A real mother is one who is not afraid to have her own space.”

I looked back at Cillian with adoration and nodded at his words. “I just… my body can’t go through this again.”

“Is it your body, or your mind?”

“I don’t even know anymore…”

“Well, I want you to do whatever it is that feels right. Okay?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. “But if I did somehow want to have another… would you mind?” My watery eyes glared up to his.

“Not at all love, I love our children and would love just as many more.” He grinned the same grin that made me fall in love with him for the first time. I felt the warmth and tenderness in his voice. “Do you want another?”

“Well I don’t want to get rid of this one…” I lightly rubbed my lower belly. Cillian’s hand held over top of mine.

“We don’t have to then. I’d be more than happy for another baby.” He kissed my forehead. “If there was anyway they’d turn out like our already beautiful children, then how could I say no.”

I looked up with a warm smile at him. “Oh I love you…” I said lovingly touching his cheek with my hand.

“I love you too my love.”

And nine months later with Cillian at my side, I was handed the most precious baby girl who held my every feature. My twin. She cooed lightly and her eyes twinkled open for the first time in the light. And when those little eyes fully opened, they melted with love seeing my face.

She was so perfect, an angel little girl. And everyday since the day she was born, I thanked Cillian for being the loving husband he is and teaching me to listen to my heart. Because if I hadn’t that day I wouldn’t have had this sweet girl who I later named Mila. My miracle sent from heaven.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: 5 Times Marshall Thought About Having Another Baby (+1 Time He Brought It Up)

@marshall-is-my-husband and @shady1-daddy I blame you

1. The Time He Saw You Sleeping with Her

Marshall had always been a light sleeper. Years of long nights in the studio, paranoia from fame, and just the way his brain worked made it damn near impossible for him to stay knocked out for too long.

So, when he woke up in the middle of the night and rolled over to see you curled up in bed with your daughter nestled against your chest, he stayed still, just watching.

Your arm was draped protectively around her, your breaths slow and steady. The soft glow of the nightlight made everything look… perfect.

And just like that, the thought hit him.

"What if we had another?"

The idea settled deep in his chest, warm and dangerous.

But he didn’t say anything.

Not yet.

2. The Time You Held a Friend’s Baby (Again)

It was funny—before you had your daughter, Marshall had always caught himself staring when you held a baby. Now, he still did, but for a different reason.

You were at Hailie’s house for a get-together when one of her friends passed you her newborn. You took him easily, adjusting the tiny bundle against your hip, rubbing his back gently.

Marshall had been in the middle of a conversation with Alaina when he glanced over and saw you.

That same feeling from before crept in.

That same what if?

He shook his head, turning back to the conversation.

But the thought didn’t go away.

3. The Time He Found Himself in the Baby Section

He had gone to the store for diapers. That’s it.

But somehow, he ended up in the baby section, staring at tiny onesies and wondering what it would be like to go through it all again.

Would it be a boy this time? Another girl? Would they have your eyes?

Marshall ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

He grabbed the diapers and got the hell out of there before he did something stupid.

Like bring it up to you.

4. The Time He Saw Your Daughter Kiss Your Belly

You had been lying on the couch, half-asleep, when your daughter crawled up beside you.

Marshall had been sitting in the armchair, watching absentmindedly, when she leaned over and placed a tiny, unprompted kiss on your stomach.

His heart stopped.

You cracked one eye open, amused. “What was that for, baby?”

She grinned. “For the baby!”

You laughed, ruffling her hair. “There’s no baby in there, sweet girl.”

Marshall felt the words before he thought them—But what if there was?

Damn it.

5. The Time You Called Yourself ‘Done’

It had been a long day. Your daughter had been fussy, the house was a mess, and you looked absolutely exhausted.

You flopped onto the bed, sighing dramatically. “I don’t know how people have more than one. I’m done.”

Marshall chuckled, lying beside you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turned your head toward him. “You’re not secretly hoping for another, are you?”

He hesitated for half a second too long.

Your eyes narrowed. “Marshall.”

He smirked, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I mean… no. Not secretly.”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow.

Marshall just laughed.

+1. The Time He Actually Brought It Up

It was late. Your daughter was asleep, the house was quiet, and the two of you were curled up in bed, your head resting against his chest.

Marshall exhaled, running his fingers through your hair. “You ever think about having another?”

You stilled for a second. “Like… seriously?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

You lifted your head, meeting his eyes. “Do you?”

Marshall hesitated, then nodded. “I mean… I didn’t think I would. But ever since she was born, I just keep thinking about it.”

You searched his face for a long moment. “You really want another baby?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I mean, we make cute kids.”

You laughed softly, but then your expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t know, Marshall. I love being a mom, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go through it all again.”

He nodded, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I get it. And if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

You exhaled, resting your forehead against his. “Can I think about it?”

He kissed you gently. “Take all the time you need, baby.”

And for now, that was enough.

[muffinsin]

So it’s obvious that the girls had lives and families before the Cadou, so it got me wondering. What if the girls had a biological older or younger sibling that comes to work in the castle? It would probably feel weird to the girls to see what is basically a clone of you, that remembers a different version of you but you can’t remember them.

Tbh I love to occasionally think of setting Elena up as this (due to her obvious resemblance to Cassandra due to their models)👀 that’s a very interesting thought, hon!👀 this one’s got a bit angsty🙃

This one’s a little off my usual HCs for them since I HC that all 3 take a good 80 years tops to get to the point where they are in the game. Maturity and growth wise XD

Masterlists

Bela

Contrary to popular belief, not all are forced into the castle, forced to work there, to cook and clean and serve

Many come for the safety it can provide, the three meals a day, the roof above one’s head, the protection against Lycans

You, have come for a different reason

Bela Dimitrescu

The eldest of Alcina Dimitrescu, countess of Castle Dimitrescu, the head of the house

Her eldest. Her successor. Her heiress. One of three daughters, sisters

But also, your sister

She carries a different name now, looks a little different, acts different. But it’s her, undeniably so

You begin by working at the castle, and you work hard

Hard, quickly, every day. More and more. No task is too hard for you, no goal unreachable, for you have a single goal in mind;

To get to Bela

You know, you need to see her

You need to see your sister

You didn’t think you would again, that she would be lost forever after being taken by Mother Miranda

To see her in the distance, dragging something back to the castle…alive

Different, but alive

You need to know if your sister is still there

And so, as you continue to work hard and pick up more and more tasks, you eventually work your way up in the castle

Past ordinary tasks, ranking above the average maid

Until, at last, you’re assigned to clean and organize Bela’s spaces when she wants for it

You’re incredibly nervous on the first day, well aware that you will see her up close for the first time

While you’ve seen Cassandra around plenty times and managed to dodge her and had Daniela throw herself at you a few times, Bela has been distant, far too busy to spare the staff a glance or even interact with it

And when you are summoned to her office and finally see her, you feel like your heart is stopping

Her eyes are different, she sports a tattoo on her forehead. Her clothing is much richer and darker and while she barely wore make up in the village, she wears some now

But, beyond all this, she’s your sister still

Of course, she notices your racing heart

But, unlike her sisters, her reaction is different

She doesn’t grin, doesn’t approach you with a predatory smile and shine to her eyes as Cassandra would

She doesn’t move towards you with a sultry smile and seductive eyes as Daniela likes to do

Instead, she rolls her eyes subtly, as though a little annoyed

You immediately straighten up. You’re not sure how much she’s changed, but you know well enough to not anger her. Especially on your first day. You’ve heard rumors she is particularly unforgiving as it comes to a lack of competence

This, though, has you smile a little

This, at least, is a little like your sister, even if she was far, far more soft spoken in the village, unable to speak out as she can now due to the harsh, outdated hierarchy

Still, you remember her subtly rolling her eyes and glancing to you whenever something or someone annoyed her

Sensing your shift in behavior, she at last turns again, her hand raising, her gloved fingers gesturing to the room

As she talks, you can’t help but feel your heart ache. Her voice, though far more confident, is still the same

Your sister…

So close, yet so far

You so desperately want to reach out, to wrap your arms around her

You’re certain it wouldn’t be a very good idea judged by the dried blood around her lips

And still, you force yourself to stay quiet, to stay professional, to avoid staring at your long-lost sister overly long

As she works, you notice she checks in on you occasionally, critical as always, checking if you’re doing your work correctly

You can’t help a small smile

Even after all those years, you know how she likes to organize things. You know what ticks her off, what makes her smile, satisfied

You perform every task she gives you far better than all others, and she quickly decides she’s pleased with you. Pleased enough to have you work for her more and more

Every day, you see her

No. Every day, you see a shadow of who she was

She’s not quite your sister, and you’re not quite part of her family

She’s none the wiser, and you don’t dare tell her

You notice, though, she’s growing suspicious

Sometimes, you catch her staring, unashamed when she continues looking at you even when you turn to her

Like she’s trying to figure something out

Like she’a trying to figure out why you look so similar and familiar to her, but she has no recollection of you at all

At first, she thinks; could you be related to a former lover?

But…no, it doesn’t seem right

She can’t even begin to think she might be your sister

And you..you aren’t sure telling her is the best course of action

You can’t help but worry, fearing she might take you for a fool if you told her the truth

You know, in her eyes, she has a family

A new family

A stronger family

Not you…

She’s happy, you can’t help but notice. Or seems it, at least. She’s safe. And while she is occasionally heard complaining about “her sisters”, it isn’t hard to tell she loves them dearly nonetheless

Unsurprisingly, this stings

But…you can’t help but wonder whether it’s for the best

You’re about to tell her, once. About to spill your heart out and tell her everything. About to plead with her to come home

Home…

To the village, where it isn’t safe

A village, whose inhabitants have come to hate who your sister has turned into

How can you possibly ask her to do that? How could she possibly accept that?

You tell yourself, you won’t bother her. That after she’s looked after you all her life, you will look after her and grant her this life, now

But…you can’t bring yourself to stay away

You work eagerly, show up on time, every single day

You never fail to complete a task to her upmost satisfaction, and work for as long as you can, desperate to be with her and see her

You too notice yourself grow clingier, while she grows more and more curious

You seem so familiar, at ease. She can’t understand you, can’t figure you out at all

She wants to

She suspects, you must be keeping something from her

And when one day she confronts you, you almost forget who she is, now. That she no longer is the meek villager, the woman trying hard to protect you even if it meant being punished for it

The woman who would never resort to violence

You refuse to tell her what’s going on, originally, mistaking your relationship with Bela for one far more familiar than it is, now

You find yourself pressed against the window with a sickle to your throat, the not-so subtle threat of falling or being sliced imminent

You panic, suddenly struck with the realization again that despite her looks and certain similarities, this is not quite your sister

And you certainly are not family to her in her eyes

Terrified, you’re forced to realize; she will kill you, should you not speak up

And when you do, sobbing that she’s your sister, it’s like time stands still

She doesn’t believe it, at first

And for a moment, you’re certain she will kill you

But, the killing blow doesn’t come, and you’re left alone in her study instead

In the next couple of days, you don’t see her at all

You can’t even catch as much as a glimpse of her, really

Unbeknownst to you, your words have caused a small panic within her

She spends the majority of her days with Alcina, asking questions here and there, curious whether you could be telling the truth

She’s never quite cared for her former life

Of course, Alcina has once told her that she did exist as someone else before she was reborn

But, with her wonderful family surrounding her, she never found it within her to care

Now, she feels almost like she’s forced to

She panics easily at the thought of you, pacing as thoughts swirl about in her head

Often, it takes Alcina to calm her

It takes days for Bela to sort out her thoughts, to come to a point where she’s at least capable of making a choice

A choice, that comes a little easier to her than she likes to admit

The next day, you find your belongings packed and a carriage awaiting you, along with a handsome amount of gold

Some of the maidens congratulate you, others glance at you filthily, their jealousy clear as day

You feel only dread, only hurt

It’s clear to you in an instant; this is her doing

As much as she feels this odd feeling of familiarity with you, Bela can’t- no, does not want to- turn her back on her new family

She’s a Dimitrescu, and, to her, her family is Alcina, Cassandra and Daniela

She feels no sense of love towards you, no sense of affection she so dearly holds for her younger sisters

But, she does not want to see you hurt

She sends you off, away from the castle

You can’t be a part of her life. She makes this much clear

But, she sees to it that you’re cared for, financially, at least enough to afford a safe home

She can’t bring herself to do more than that

She’s a Dimitrescu, now, proudly so

And you are not

Cassandra

Cassandra Dimitrescu

A terror from the castle

A monster to many villagers. A devil, some even call her. A sadist, certainly. A predator, yes

Your sister

Can I be?

Could it really be her?

You remember her well, remember her strong face and stubbornness, her fierce protectiveness over you, which often led to her getting hurt

She never complained, never stopped protecting you

She’d always shield you from the dangers in the village

Gone, now

Given to Mother Miranda long ago

You remember she fought

You remember being unable to help her, staring into her brown eyes, wide and angry, as she was dragged away

The next time you look into her eyes, they’re golden, but unmistakably hers, still

It’s during a raid of the village, when you find yourself panting on the floor, watching a mysterious brunette rip apart the villager in front of you

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Then, when she turned, your sister…

Her face, her voice…but…not quite her

The woman in front of you is bloodied, and bloodthirsty. She holds your sister’s anger still, shows it openly, but it’s directed at everyone, and it feels like any wrong move could have it direct towards you, too

You aren’t sure why your instincts-unlike your wish- tell you not to run into her arms. But looking back, you’re certain it saved your life

Rooted in place, you can only stare and shiver, shake helplessly as the woman you’re so sure could be your sister tears apart the villager in front of you

By some miracle you aren’t next, left on the ground as she laughs and turns into what looks like a swarm of flies

Maybe, you should have dropped things

Maybe, you should have accepted your sister’s death

Maybe, you shouldn’t have gone chasing Cassandra

But, you do

You set out to work at the castle despite the rumors surrounding it

You know, after all, that is when you will find her

And, sure enough, you find out plenty

You find out, she’s the middle child, sister to Bela and Daniela Dimitrescu

A different family

A different woman?

But…you can’t help but see her, even as you’re confronted with the scary stories the staff likes telling about her in the dark

Maybe, you should have dropped it indeed

Finding Cassandra proves to be an easy task. Avoiding her sickle, a more difficult one

She’s loud, as your sister used to be, unfiltered

You remember, back then, this used to be a problem

You can’t help but notice, she seems happier, now

More confident

Free

Unburdened

Excited

Selfishly, perhaps, you can’t help but hope she isn’t loved. That maybe, she will come back to you

You’d hide her, make sure no resentful villager can find and hurt her. Or, by now, be hurt by her

Perhaps, this should be alarming

Still, you so desperately want to get your sister back

You try working your way up in the castle, try to work in areas you heard she regularly visits

The armory, she cellars, the wing containing her chambers

But, soon you realise; working hard has Bela Dimitrescu turn to you, not Cassandra

Bela, who seems to value order and your hard work

Daniela, who makes it a point to fluster you and all other staff members she comes across. So far, you have been lucky. You find; sticking to a group is important with the redhead, lest her seemingly random mood changes are directed at you

You begin to pull back a little, to take more risks, hoping it might catch Cassandra’s eye

Then, one day, it happens naturally

You’re caught up in a fight, screaming and scratching at the woman attacking you

You aren’t sure how it happened, how the maiden’s hurtful remarks could turn into a full blown fight

Nails scrape against skin, dig against it, hair is pulled

An unnecessary fight, foolish, in an already dangerous workplace

But, it’s enough to capture the sadist’s attention

You both flinch back when she’s suddenly there, and you gasp when her sickle easily slices forth through the air

It catches both of you, still, forming a bleeding cut at your cheek and a deep slash at the maiden’s one

She immediately begs for mercy, falls to her knees and sobs. You stand frozen in place

This close to her, you can’t help but look up again, your eyes finding her golden ones

Gold…not brown.. but the same lazy eye, the same frustration held in them

She’d always get so annoyed and frustrated at useless sobbing, would always scold you when you cried and apologized when she was hurt because of you

You know, this is your sister, deep down

You can’t bring yourself to look away. You want nothing more than to lunge forward, to wrap your arms around her and never let go

You’ve missed your sister so much. Now, she’s so close, yet so far

You flinch when the bloodied sickle is raised to your throat next, flinch and shiver uncomfortably when her tongue drags against the bleeding cut at your cheek

You don’t dare pull away, try to think about how embarrassed she will be once you tell her everything and she remembers you

The thought keeps you going despite your racing heart

And for a moment, she draws back, as if almost familiar with the scent and taste of the blood, as if it was far too similar to her own, far down beneath the scent and taste of her rotten one

For a second, you think she might understand, that she might suspect who you are

That she might remember

But, she doesn’t, and only pulls away again, eying you suspiciously

Of course, the huntress notices your odd taste and scent, so utterly familiar and out of place at the same time

She’s…curious, she decides

And while she snatches the other maid and leaves you that day, you’re summoned to the armory the very next one

From then on, you are to work for her

A deadly position

You still feel her eyes on you, always. You’re certain she’s around even when you can’t see her. Your sister always looked out for you. You hope, it can be like that again

As you work, you feel her around you, hear her flies buzzing while she stays in the shadows

She doesn’t speak, doesn’t come near you

Instead, she watches you, studies your mannerisms. Sometimes, she snarls, and you notice it’s usually triggered by you doing something your sister used to do

In the back of your mind, you wonder whether she still does those things, even as her life seems to be so different

In time, this stays the exact same

It’s always tense with her. Often, you’re around when she drags a new victim with her

At other times, she slices at you, always taking a taste for herself as if tying to study your taste and blood. Her injuries- to you at least- are never lethal. You can’t help but wonder, perhaps naively, that this is done on purpose. You’re sure someone like Cassandra is capable of differentiating

Working for her, you learn more and more about her

With a heavy heart, you notice her anger is much more prominent, now

And while it was often her cut and beat at the village by stronger, bigger villagers, it is now her who cuts and beats, slices and bites, taunts and tortures for hours to no be

Prey, turned to a predator

How could you possibly bring her back home?

How could you possibly get her to stop consuming blood?

At times, you like to daydream, perhaps she can change. Perhaps, you can feed her. Perhaps, she can come live with you. Maybe it will work out

But, she is loved, here

It’s not often you see a glimpse of this, but it’s there

She’s an older sister, here. A younger sister. A daughter. They are each others’ everything

You grow more and more depressed with each day at the castle, less and less convinced that you can ever be with your sister again

Each passing day you notice how much she has changed, how she could never live at the village with you again

Each passing day you notice how bloodthirsty she is, how unique, now

And each passing day you grow less convinced to tell her the truth

Then, one day, it’s as though she has it figured out

You gasp when you’re awoken in the middle of the night. She’s in the staff’s quarters, the beds around you bloodied, all others now forced into an endless sleep, their heads turned, limbs broken, throats sliced

Clearly, she wants to be alone with you

The Realisation that murder comes so naturally to your sister now is horrifying. You know, there is no scenario in which she can return to how she used to be, no amount of love and talking from you. Cassandra is different, now

She claims, she knows who you are

You can’t talk. Can’t hug her as you want, knowing if you do the stench of blood and guts that clings to her will bleed into your scent, too

You can’t speak, can only cry as she sits at your bed

You missed your sister so much

You never thought about how even now that she’s here, she isn’t quite your sister

Not anymore

She asks you what she was like

You can’t answer

She asks you what your parents were like

You can’t answer

You can only stare ahead blankly, knowing that despite her apparent calmness and curiosity, she cares little for you

Her eyes hold no love, only curiosity. She knows, you’re too different. She knows, you don’t accept her, can’t accept her, like this, your head far too full of fake hopes and dreams of a sweet family reunion

She has a family already

She asks you what her name was

You can’t answer

She’s growing annoyed, and you can only sit in silence, the stench of the bodies in the room filling your nose

She raises from the bed, her sickle raised. She demands answers from you, answers her mother could not give her

Who was she?!

You can’t answer

Who she was, is not who she is

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Bitter, you grit your teeth

Not your sister, not anymore. A different name, a different family, a different set of ideals, no longer yours alone. It was meant to be the two of you against the world

Bitter, you turn your head from her

Her patience runs out, and you draw your last breath

Daniela

Your sister…

Not a day passes you don’t think of her

At times, your heart aches when you think of her and feel anger and bitterness at her for leaving you. For being foolish. For being delusional. For being taken away from your family

You still see her eyes when you close yours, so wide and fearful, full of tears

You remember running and hiding away when she was taken, her screams loud, her cheeks wet with salty tears

You never thought you’d see her again, thought your precious sister was gone forever

Or, maybe even worse, a mindless lycan roaming the forest

You didn’t think she still existed, haven’t heard a thing from her

Until the day you too were sent away

Not to Mother Miranda, no, but to work at the castle

A cruel fate, certainly. You’re sure, your “parents” do not fully intend for you to return, money prioritized over you being home

You’re terrified on your first day, your mind full of stories the scared staff has whispered to you already

Whispers of three sisters- Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and their mother

Bela, the cruel one

Cassandra, the sadistic one

Daniela, the unpredictable one

Alcina, the noble one, nearly impossible to please

You’re walking with a small group of women- soon to be staff members too- when you turn your head at a noise in the distance

A giggle, light, a little manic, but so painfully familiar

Your eyes are wide as you search for the source of it, your breathing ragged already

Could it be?

Could your sister be here?

A staff member, too?

A prisoner?!

You can’t see her clearly, but your eyes are fixated on two women in the distance

One, short, in a maiden’s uniform. You can’t see her face, but recognise the auburn-ginger hair, still

You think, she’s a little shorter than your sister was, but refuse to let go of the string of hope you’re clutching to you, now

In front of her stands a tall woman, dressed in black. You can’t see her face, can’t make out anything but her height, the black dress and coat and the few flies surrounding her and connecting to her skin

You shiver, not trusting the sight. Surely, it didn’t really connect with the woman

But, you’re sure: she must be one of the three sisters, one of the supposed monsters roaming the castle

Briefly, you want to fight, thinking your sister could be in danger

Has the tall woman taken a shine to her? Has she gotten herself in trouble because of her heart, again?

The thought it almost too much to bear

You didn’t help her, couldn’t help her, back then

You want to, now

But as you take a single step towards the pair a hand grabs your arm already, holding you back firmly

“Don’t stray”, the unknown woman, a maid, warns

You’re led back to the group, your eyes lingering on the two women for as long as they stay in your sight

You can only pray, your sister is safe

You only pray, you will see her again, will get to hug her again, talk to her again

Ah, and your wish does come true, in the end

When, just the day after, you’re assigned to the library

An easy task, really. Stacking books, reorganizing them, sweeping dust here and there

You clean idly, your head turning often in hopes of seeing your sister

But, the library is empty

You turn often, keep imagining the sound of her voice until you’re worried you didn’t hear her the day before at all

Then, out of nowhere, you feel a body press up against your back, a sickle held against your cheek

Immediately, you go completely tense, already picking up the scent of blood and flowery perfume behind you

“Oooo, you must be new!”

Instantly, you turn, even as the sharp blade grazes your skin

Your eyes are wide when you do so

First, hopeful

Then, almost horrified

You stare up at the woman in black clothing, her golden eyes set on you, her gaze curious and almost dreamy

You study her features, so familiar to you that you could paint them from memory easily

Your sister

Uncaring of the circumstances, you can’t help but throw your arms around her, your head pressing against her neck, tears already forming at your eyes

You hear her gasp above you, then hear her coo, as though you were nothing but a puppy clinging to her

When you look up at her hopefully, you see no recognition in her eyes at all, though find the faintest flicker of curiosity in the seemingly endless pools of gold

Gold, that you remember being green. Your heart aches as you find a glimpse of it in her eyes still, like a faint reminder of who she once was

You call her name, and she frowns. You try to search your mind, hoping to find her name in the countless scary stories that have been told to you

Daniela

Daniela Dimitrescu

A new name. A new life. A new reality, for her

Briefly, you think bitterly; she’s left you behind again

But you won’t be letting go of her this time. Won’t let her heart carry her away, won’t let her naivety take her from you again. Maybe, if you bring her home, your family could be once more

You’ve missed her so much

You frown when she coos again, her black painted lips spreading into a smile. She smiles, like a predator finding its prey

You shiver, but don’t let go

You won’t let go of your sister, this time

You call her name again, and just briefly there’s a flicker of anger in her eyes, as though growing annoyed with the idea you might mistake her for someone else

Tears begin to form in your eyes

“Don’t you remember me?”

Daniela is, overall, relatively easy to convince of who she uses to be

She hears you out, even as you get the feeling she’s barely taking anything in, as though your- her- story was nothing but that; a story to her, a fairytale

Still, she takes care of you, brings you along a lot

Daniela does not allow you to call her by the name she once went by, but she’s- kind, even as her sisters and mother send more than just one deadly glance your way

You understand fast: she is loved here. She has made a new family, has found one

She’s changed

But maybe, you can change too

You try hard to understand, try not to let it bother you when she kills and taunts and drinks from the staff

You try especially hard to avoid letting her see your terror whenever she randomly turns into a swarm of insects

After all, she could still be your sister, too

And while her sisters seem out for blood, Daniela seems almost excited to have you with her

She spends every day with you, chatting, playing games she has invented or heard of, telling you about her day

Only can you not get rid of that…feeling

Like she doesn’t view you as family, no

She has her family, after all…

No, you are- a friend, perhaps

A friend, she spends every single day with

Until, eventually, she becomes busier

When she hunts all day long and only has time for you in the evenings

When she prefers her new family over you, eventually

When, at last, she grows tired of playing with the little human that just can’t seem to keep up with her

You’re allowed to live at the castle, growing older while she stays forever young, energetic and happy, quickly bored when she visits and, in time, you can neither keep up with her speed nor understand her when she speaks far too fast and a little too low

In the years you spend together, she finds; she does find comfort in you

She likes you, too

But- she is a Dimitrescu

[herefortarlos]

Favorite 911 Lone Star Fandom Memories 🚒

Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings for coming up with this lovely idea and thank you @strandnreyes @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @she-walked-away @carlossreaders @nisbanisba @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @freneticfloetry @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet and @goldenskykaysani for all the tags! I read every single one of you favorite moments/memories and they made me emotional and so happy and grateful to know you all and be a part of this fandom! 💖

Anyone who considers themselves a fan of the show, regardless of how engaged with fandom you are, should participate and share if you want!

rules here

Oh, where to begin?!? I am still in denial that it's coming to an end this Monday 🥲I haven't been thinking about it too much which is also why it took me a bit to write this and think of which fandom memories for me I wanted to highlight. I hope we'll all be there for each other if someone needs a little extra comfort in the days, weeks, months that follow! 💜

All the fanfiction, fanart, gifs, edits, etc. and the friends and good acquaintances made through them!

I will always be grateful to Tarlos and Lone Star because they got me to start regularly reading fics again! I used to have a 2 hour commute into NYC and I would read fanfic while sitting on the trains but doing that for 2 years unfortunately burned me out on fanfic and my previous obsession. From 2020 to late 2022, I didn't read much fic. It wasn't until I found Lone Star through FB clips and TK's iconic, "Sure ma'am but just so you know I am a homosexual", that I had found something new to obsess over and love to this degree! Tarlos and LS also brought me back to Tumblr and into fandom in the first place! After I binge watched the show up to season 3, I needed more Tarlos and so I looked through ao3 and started with tarlos fics by @rmd-writes! I saw Rae was on Tumblr and remembered that was where I used to always find fic writers to follow! So I made a new account specifically for the fandom, hello here for Tarlos 😂, and truly engaged in a fandom for the first time! I got to watch all of Season 4 live which was great, and loved seeing people's live reactions to everything on here and loved the codas, art and gif sets people made so quickly after the episode had aired!

And then of course I made fandom and lifelong friends! I started engaging in fandom by leaving unhinged and excitable tags on people's fics and works 😅, as I tend to do, and slowly started becoming mutuals with people! And then @heartstringsduet really opened me up by dming and thanking me for my tags on a fic of hers, and the rest is history 🥹. Michelle really helped me to feel open and comfortable on here and I decided to share my name with people and now I have friends that I know I'll keep in contact with despite the show ending! Some of the most kind, creative, talented, accepting and welcoming people are in this fandom and I am beyond grateful to Lone Star for introducing us! ❤️

The lead up to the Tarlos wedding!

Gahhhh, all the bts we got, and the press tour Ronen and Rafael went on and that Hello! photo shoot, pretty sure my heart stopped when we got those pictures, not to mention the 2 episode Season 4 finale! Now that was a time to be alive! It was treated like such a real wedding and there was so much amazing promotion and was definitely wedding of the year for me!

Discovering I was pansexual and being more open with my sexuality IRL!

I always knew I was queer back in college, although parts of high school definitely make more sense when I stopped to think about them 😂. But because I was in a straight presenting relationship, I never thought to be more open with my queerness? Sure I had those few friends that knew and that I could feel comfortable with, and I had 1 good fellow queer friend at the time to confide in, but I guess I was still learning things about myself and how much of me I wanted people to know? Anyways, Brian Michael Smith and Ronen's coming out story helped me to identify myself and encouraged me to be my authentic self with people! I got my first pride flag because of Lone Star, that I will continue to display outside my house to show that this is a safe place for people that need that, and have met so many diverse and other LGBTQ+ individuals because of it! And also because of that, a good irl friend of mine came out as trans to me first because she felt safe with me! So yeah, a lot of good things to thank a show like 911 Lone Star for 💗.

Finally, becoming a beta reader!

I have been so lucky and have the most fun having been a beta reader for many talented writers in this fandom! Getting to see and help people with their works before they're published, seeing lines and dialogue that I suggested go into the final fic! Without a doubt one of the best things this fandom has given me, along with the many friendships that started because of it! 💖

An OPEN and zero pressure tag for a few people that I don't think have done this yet. @reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @carlos-tk @eclectic-sassycoweyes @paperstorm @dear-viv @whatsintheboxmh @alrightbuckaroo @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @emsprovisions @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @goodways @theghostofashton @henrygrass @lemonlyman-dotcom @guardian-angle22

[wynsummers]

felt like combining two of my biggest interests so this is my ranking of buffy characters by how much they would enjoy the rocky horror picture show

honorable mention - anya. i can't decide if anya would love or hate rocky. the more chaos-loving anyanka side of her would have a lot of fun with it, but i think she might also hate the idea of going to see a movie only to have it talked over by a bunch of hecklers. especially if she went to a theater where they throw/spray props. so i guess it would depend on whether she went to a showing for the experience or the film itself.

9. angel would walk in, sit in the back row, stare with an intense face at the screen for the entire hour and forty minutes of the film and then stand up and leave without saying a word. he would never come back.

8. xander - xander would enjoy rocky for all of the wrong reasons. he is the cishet man who only goes to see the lingerie-clad women. i've met so many xanders in my time. they always have that smug laugh when someone tries to interact with them, but they're too cool to do anything that they can't use to (attempt to) impress a woman

7. cordelia - i don't think rocky is really cordy's scene, no disrespect intended. i think she could have a good time but some of the more extreme traditions might put her off (especially if someone threw/sprayed something at her, i think she would hate that). she would look at it as that fun thing she did once, probably because someone invited her. that being said, though, if she ended up in a shadowcast, she would put her entire heart and soul into playing janet.

6. oz - i can't explain it but oz is both too cool not to be at rocky and too cool to be at rocky. like, oz has been going to rocky every week for two years but the scoobies only find out when they go as a group and everyone in the theater knows him already. i don't think he's ever said a callback in his life but he definitely has a bunch of them memorized

5. buffy - ok now hear me out. buffy needs something like rocky in her life. she needs a place where she can unwind, yell loudly, dance around, and just have fun. i don't think she'd be super into it right away, but i don't think it would take long for her to get into the rhythm of it. i can't see her going so far as to be in a shadowcast, but i can totally see her being a frequent audience member who tells all of her friends about this awesome thing she found

4. tara - listen, tara is a lesbian witch in college. rocky was made for her. season 4 tara is too shy to participate, but i can see it being a place she returns to a lot, and season 6 tara is definitely in the front row of the theater every friday gleefully yelling at the screen. she might even dress up as janet or magenta (shoutout amber benson for performing toucha touch me)

3. willow - this may be controversial, since early seasons willow is kind of reserved and seems like she would be really overwhelmed by rocky. but often that's the exact kind of person who thrives in rocky the most because it gives them a chance to come out of their shell. at her first show, she probably wouldn't participate at all, but something would compel her to come back, and slowly but surely, she'd start doing more. cut to a few months later and she's going full vampire willow in a theater full of people. i think later seasons willow wouldn't have as difficult of a time at first but i still don't think she'd get into it right away. but once she got it, she'd be a regular for life

2. spike - i think spike has been going to the shows for a long time; it's definitely his scene. it wouldn't surprise me if he invented some of the callbacks. yelling stupid snarky shit at a movie screen is so him. i don't know if i can see him dressing up as a character though.

giles - obviously. fucking obviously. in his ripper days he was frank at his local theater and he still goes to the shows all the time. maybe on special occasions they bring him back as frank for a special show. it wouldn't surprise me if he saw the rocky horror show before it was a movie. if buffy and the scoobies found out about his double life they would faint. (if you haven't seen anthony head as frank, do yourself a favor and look it up)

[felassan]

Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 5. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two, Post Three, Post Four]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "I agree, the Necropolis IS gorgeous, I was blessed with wonderful level artists, lighting artists, and a fantastic LD who poured their hearts into making it it." [source]

Sylvia: ""But what does Manfred think about Spite?" Good question. Manfred is curious, as always, and can probably sense Spite's on his own plane of existence (in other words, another spirit.) But Manfred also doesn't have a greatly evolved sense of danger, he might not understand Spite's "moodier" moments. I also think Manfred isn't as sophisticated a spirit as Spite at the start of the game. (Though don't let Emmrich catch you saying that!)" [source, two]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "He was a team effort, and I have to especially thank the writers and editors for their early feedback that helped shape him. Emmrich wouldn't have worked as well otherwise." [source]

Sylvia: "it's a huge honour to work on a character who's someone's favorite anything, let alone romance. (Huge props to Allegra, her actor, who just got Josie right away.)" [source]

Sylvia: ""With Cassandra being our only POV into Nevarra" Poor Cassandra. (Emmrich has such respect for her uncle's books!) "There's a lot of deep respect and empathy for all the ways people relate with death and I appreciate it"" Thanks, that was something I'd so hoped would come through." [source]

Sylvia: "It really was a team that brought Emmrich, the Necropolis, and the rest of its guardians to life, I know everyone would be thrilled to know you enjoyed it so much." [source]

User: "Emmrich's fear of mortality really hit hard. Some of those lines are etched into my heart now. Thanks to everyone who helped put that deeply relatable and human experience into the game" // Sylvia: "It was kind of the core of Emmrich, writing the part where he opens up about his fears, so thank you for sharing that, it means a lot." [source]

Sylvia: "I loved writing the MW branches and letting people be a nerdier flavour of Rook with Emmrich." [source]

User: "Nevarra, Mourn Watch and in particular Emmrich's personal missions were amazing! The whimsical and the grotesque in perfect balance. When I replay next year I'll be looking forward to those missions the most!" // Sylvia: "Especial praise goes to the level designers for tackling a bunch of complex stuff in those missions as we planned them out." [source]

Sylvia: "I think we can all agree Emmrich might be a touch eccentric, but I really wanted his interests and compassionate outlook to be heartfelt, so this is lovely to hear." [source]

User: "I was so nervous about the whole Necropolis gang as I have PTSD and a major fear of death. So when Emmrich confided in Rook about his own fear, I was struck with such an unexpected comfort. I've never heard someone describe my own fears and how they make me feel so perfectly." // Sylvia: "Thank you, Bibi. It's a very familiar fear for me as well, and I find sometimes talking about it can ease things. So I'm very glad to hear Emmrich's thoughts on it were helpful for you." [source]

Sylvia: "I like a good sinister necromancer, but really wanted to try something different with the Mourn Watch, something more akin to a sacred duty." [source]

Sylvia on the Necropolis: "The concept, lighting, and level artists, and the level designer, did so much cool stuff there IMO. Seeing it with the final art and lighting in for the first time was a thrill for me too." [source]

User: "special thanks for the Terry Pratchett references in the form and speech of Vorgoth. I don't know exactly whose idea it was, but it was great!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you so much! Re: Terry Pratchett: oh man, I read nearly every Discworld book multiple times, absolute favorites growing up." [source]

User: "I kinda of assumed that Emmrich just calculates age in academia terms, so no matter how many physical years old your Rook is, you're just a tiny baby who hasn't completed a necromancy phd. "When I was your age" = "When I was a TA."" // Sylvia: "Yes, yes that math checks out." [source]

User on Emmrich: "how refreshing it was to have an argument with a LI that’s specific to their relationship. It gives the characters such texture and dimension!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! I liked the tone range we ended up having between everyone, it was more rewarding to do." [source]

User: "Would you guys ever expand more on Nevarra and its culture? I loved seeing the Necropolis, and hope we revisit it. But I'll be honest when I say it made me curious what life in Nevarra is like, and how infused Nevarra's Mortalitasi are with average Nevarran life." // Sylvia: "Since I've left the company, that's not really in my hands, so there's not much I can say. But I get what you mean, because the Mourn Watch are a subbranch of the Mortalitasi with a very special field of study and service. We don't really get much about everyday Nevarra. So whoever tackles that in the future, if they ever do: I think that could be neat. Lots of room to explore different dynamics and customs!" [source, two]

User: "I adore Emmrich, he's so sweet & so thoughtful! I especially adore his love for flowers, and I personally interpreted that as a hint from the writers (you!) that choosing to embrace his fleeting mortality, like the fleeting beauty of flowers, was his "good" path - is that correct? What's your take?" // Sylvia: "I tried really hard to make either choice feel like it could be the right one for him, because I wanted it to be more about a player's own interpretation-and their relationship with him-than author fiat hinting at which one is correct. Also thank you for the kind words! I really liked writing Emmrich enthusing about flowers." [source, two] // User: "He's such a charming character, the vibes of him and Josephine are among some of my favorites in the series, thank you for helping to shape them and for being kind enough to answer my question! Do you, personally, have a preference for which choice Emmrich makes? It's a tough call to make in game!" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, like a coward, I've not stated a preference because I don't want to accidentally influence people into thinking one was right or not. I'm also in a weird place where as the person writing him, my thoughts are far less subjective in weird recursive ways. If that makes sense." [source]

User: "do you have a favorite flower? It was such a lovely detail in Emmrich's character and it warms my heart to know writing that was enjoyable for you" // Sylvia: "It kind of changes depending on what's growing during the season, but while it's very common, you can't beat the scent of a rose. (Fond of lilacs too)" [source]

User: "Did you have any role in Manfred's wisp being lilac when/if you bring him back? That detail made me bawl 😭 Manfred was so shaped by "living" with Emmrich that his essence became Em's favorite color?! The only wisp we see to do so?" // Sylvia: "I wish! I actually don't know who did that. I'd assume that colour was chosen by one of our animators, or maybe the LD, so perhaps they added in that detail, which is adorable. (Carly, Derek Wilks, was this either of you?)" [source] // Derek Wilks: "I think that was someone in VFX actually!" [source]

Sylvia: "Glad you enjoyed the graveyard date, our animators and music director did wonders there." [source]

User: "Can you give us any hints on when Dorian spent some time at the necropolis? I need to know their circumstances for science (how old was Dorian back then? I could imagine he had a crush on the professor lol)" // Sylvia: "I'm going to chicken out and not pin that down (sorry.) Since I've left BW, my answer would be even more non-canonical than usual, because that would've been something I'd have wanted to talk over with the other writers. But by that same token, nothing I've said invalidates what you want to imagine." [source]

Sylvia on Emmrich: "I am flattered to hear he has become a favorite romance, the team went all out on him." [source] // Sylvia: "So many people worked on those scenes: animation, art, audio, the editors, and huge kudos to his actor Nick Borraine." [source]

Sylvia: "I THINK Emmrich is 6'2 or 6'3, but you'd need a character artist to confirm." [source]

User: "Do the necromancers of the Grand Necropolis have their own sort of culture? Like perhaps their own rituals for marriage, courting, etc.?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. Good question. I'm sure they have some individual quirks and traditions, like any long-running institution. But they probably don't deviate unrecognizably from the mortalitasi norm." [source]

Sylvia: ""i also played a trans rook, and some of emmrich's content for a romanced trans rook made for probably some of the best romance content of all time for me." That's so nice to hear, and I must give credit to some trans people who kindly took the time to give me feedback that made those lines better." [source]

User: "1) are Tevinter exchange students like Dorian common? 2) what are some of the other fraternities of the Mortalitasi? 3) do members of the Mourn Watch often attend social events with the Nevarran elite like other Mortalitasi?" // Sylvia: "1) Yeah, I think they're not uncommon. I took my inspiration from The Grand Tour, and thought it would make sense if Tevinter sent out some of the wealthier scions to see the world a little, pick up a few new spells. [link] 2) I'm afraid I've deliberately left this one blank, for future people to fill in if/when the need arises. Emmrich complains about the palace necromancers, so we do know there's a special cadre of mortalitasi running the show over there. 3. Absolutely. The MW are pretty prestigious in Nevarra with their running the Grand Necropolis. Much as Emmrich dislikes politics himself, there's probably a lot going on at the top." [source, two, three]

User: "Do you think Lich Emmrich would eventually be told by the Lich Lords to sever his mortal ties and return with them to the depths of the Necropolis? It seems like he’s willing to break all their rules to keep Rook with him" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid defining Emmrich's duties/responsibilities/required conduct as a lich would very much be something I'd leave up to the future (even if I were still at BW.) Kind of too big a topic for me to want to speculate here." [source]

User: "did you have a hand in designing how emmrich looks?" // Sylvia: "Yep, I gave feedback as his design progressed. Our concept artists really got him very early on, though, so it was smaller stuff." [source] // User: "was he at all inspired by Peter Cushing & his hammer film characters? He really gives off van Helsing vibes to me" // Sylvia: "Time permitting I want to do a post on influences, but you got it in one exactly. It was specifically the Hammer films I was thinking about!" [source] // User: "would Rudolph van Richten from Curse of Strahd be on his list of influences?" // Sylvia: "I'm afraid, to my shame, I never read much of the core Ravenloft books, so that one's a no." [source]

User: "I needed you to know that Emmerich's conversation in the Memorial Gardens about his thanaphobia really got me. I could never put the words together of what thanaphobia feels like, and his description is perfect." // Sylvia: "It's a familiar feeling to me as well, and I'm glad it rang true." [source]

User: "I've got a really severe death phobia that's been flaring recently, and emmrich's conversation about it captured the feeling perfectly and helped lessen the weight for me" // Sylvia: "I find at least discussing it can ease it, sometimes, so I'm very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich helped in that way." [source]

Sylvia: "Hezenkoss was a blast to write so I'm glad she clicked for you. "preposterous is what you wore to a bog, Orlesian" Oh wow, Skywatcher! It's been an age, so glad that line stuck with you. That takes me back!" [source]

Sylvia: ""And yet I ask the question - what attracts Emmerich to the Hand? Yes, the answer is “perseverance”, but I think this is not fully explored." Do you mean the Hand of Glory specifically? He's intrigued and disturbed by the magic around it, which is why he hones on it, even before he knows its origin" [source]

Sylvia: ""I was wondering if you could tell us about his & Manfred's first meeting or notable moments in their friendship?" This feels like something I'd probably want to leave more to the imagination. And because I'm not a BW anymore, answers would be even more non-canonical than normal. All that said, for some reason, I always pictured Emmrich being alone in the Necropolis the first time Manfred's wisp floated up to him to peer at what he was doing. It just seems a little more poignant that way." [source, two]

Sylvia: "All credit to the team, especially the writers and editors who gave feedback that made [Emmrich] so much better during those early days and beyond." [source]

User: "me + a handful of people were wondering about non-mage mourn watchers! id love to hear your notes/thoughts about them! b/c i didnt remember hearing how they become MW or if reaper uses death magic!" // Sylvia: "Sure! Not much to say, though, I think the MW is likely a mage majority fraternity that accepts a few non-mages who have exceptional skills and temperaments sympathetic to the Necropolis. A warrior of great renown, a rogue of exceptional stealth and quiet, a baby found down there in a grave, and so forth. They'd certainly undergo the same kind of oaths and bindings every Watcher goes through. I always pictured them being provided with the best enchanted gear the MW has to offer too." [source, two]

User: "Hi! About Emmerich being a professor—does he teach at a Circle, or is he specifically a professor to other MWers and Mortalitasi? It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all?" // Sylvia: ""It seems like the MW has some sort of official schooling for its members since he regularly takes on students each year, could you comment on that at all? " Sure, but I think you have it, the MW seems to want to raise well-rounded students with a classical education on top of magecraft. In my mind, it was because they saw every MW as representing the Grand Necropolis, so of course they wanted its members to have training in etiquette and history and generally be able to move in polite society." [source, two]

User: "If I remember correctly, we only really see Emmrich use necromantic magic in-game. Are there other types of magic (elemental, healing/spirit, etc) that you think he would gravitate toward?" // Sylvia: "Hrm. He does have a bit of healing magic, mechanically in combat. It coudl work, but somehow I don't think Emmrich would ever be a high-level healer. He could maybe get the basics but it's not his great gift. Something about the gravic magic of the force mage specialty feels appropriate though." [source]

Sylvia: ""would it be possible for a (romanced) MW Rook join Emmrich in linchdom, eventually?" Yes: Rook can try, bc it's not forbidden to seek the knowledge out. (Emmrich makes it clear Hezenkoss pieced some of it together herself, so we've also seen another mage get it almost-right) It is very hard and probably takes decades to accomplish (and of course, there's no guarantee Rook would survive.) But everything written in game points to there being a chance." [source, two]

User: "I’ve been thinking a little about it and I know it’s mentioned in the game he would be interested in visiting - but how would Emmrich feel about visiting the Avvar in the south? They are one of the few groups that show respect for spirits in a similar way and I imagine he’d have a lot of questions." // Sylvia: "He'd probably love it. He'd be fascinated by their relationship with spirits, in the ways it mirrors and deviates from the Mourn Watchers' own practices. (I imagine there is also like a 15% chance he gets into a heated argument with one of them over a fine point of how spirits work exactly.)" [source]

User: "congratulations on another achievement, Emmrich took the silver trophy" // Sylvia: "I was so excited to see we'd gotten the silver trophy! I hope everyone who worked on him sees that." [source]

User: "Is there anywhere we can follow your future work after this account gets shut down ?" // Sylvia: "TBH I'll probably just reopen it it there's any cool news to share since I don't have a website or anything. (I THINK I can just reactivate it?)" [source]

User: "Thank you for Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet, emmrich, Liara and Leigon!!!!" // Sylvia: "Thank you! (I should mention I was only a part of Legion in ME3 - specifically the N7 mission into the Geth Consensus. Great fun to work on that level though.)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm lucky to have had the chance to bring Emmrich and Josephine to you all with the rest of the team." [source]

Sylvia: ""I still remember when you introduced yourself on old BSN when Lair of the Shadow Broker came out." Wow, you're right I did! That is a blast from the past. Thank you for the kind words!" [source]

User: "Just wanted to say thank you for all the amazing characters you helped bring to life in DA and ME. I really enjoyed Emmrich and Hezenkoss in DAV. The dynamic between them really made me laugh" // Sylvia: "Thanks! That was one of my favorite pairs to write, the history between them meant everything was always a little more personal, which is always fun." [source]

Sylvia: "Thanks Janette, loved writing Hollix." [source]

User: "Elements of Emmerich's costume resemble the Cerberus logo from ME. Is this just a reference or is there something more to it?" // Sylvia: "Gee, I can't say for sure because I didn't make it, but I'd assume that one's just a coincidence (since the Mourn Watch and Necropolis use hexagonal shapes as their primary shape language)" [source]

User: "I can just tell how well Emmrich is written along his fear. I lost my fear of death and dying as I began to honor the dead." // Sylvia: "I do think talking and thinking about these things more than we normally do helps eases the fear." [source]

Sylvia: "Thank you for these lovely thoughts. I did read some books about different customs around death, and I know a little about pagan/occult/magic practices (in a very basic and generalist sense.) So it doesn't surprise me per se, but I am very glad to hear getting to know Emmrich was a positive thing. And I'm also very glad to hear he's someone you feel you can take into the future with you as a helpful friend." [source, two]

Sylvia: ""Does Emmrich have any guilty pleasures?" Huh. Excellent question. I should really be more decisive about my own character, but while I think that could be fun, I'm not sure what it would be. "Oh one other question , is there a part of thedas you wish you could of explored but wasn't able to be in game?" I've always been interested in the sinister sounding Sea of Ash. What goes on over there???" [source, two]

User: "i have a silly little question bc i also love emmrich. was his scene revealing lichdom to everyone meant to parallel a trans coming out or was that accidental? because i felt on an existential level the thrill of revealing who you are, but also fearing people would be afraid or treat you differently. (and then there's strife discussions, and putting up a glamour some places but not others, and the blooming but gentle self-confidence... he is very transgender to me)" // Sylvia: "Not a silly question at all! After writing the scene I wondered if people would see similarities because of those overlapping themes you pointed out: the dignity of bodily self-determination, revealing your true self to those you love, fear of rejection, hope for acceptance. But during the writing, I mostly approached becoming undead as its own thing, because I wanted to ground it in the MW's particular philosophy. I think there's parallels because of the way the human personal is universal, if that makes sense. That said, if this does feel very transgender to you or anyone else (or not), I'm not against varied interpretations. That's one of the cool things about seeing people actually get their hands on your work." [source, two, three]

User: "I'm not sure what Emmrich's hairstyle is, slickback?" // Sylvia: "Good question. Afraid I don't know what it'd be called either. Googling it, slickback LOOKS correct?" [source]

User: "Emmrich has definitely developed a special bond with Bellara and Lucanis, and yet, both of them don't comment on his relationship with Rook! What would you say their reaction was? Their banter was so good I'm sure we'd all love to know what Emmrich had to say!" // Sylvia: "Ah, that one I'm afraid I can't answer since I'm not their writer, and that would've been something I would've discussed with the narrative team together. Sorry!" [source]

Sylvia: "Nick was indeed brilliant!" [source]

User: "Ive got quite bad thanatophobia and Emmerich's writing is one of the only times I've seen that dealt with actually respectfully." // Sylvia: "Thanks very much! I've experienced that fear, and I suspect it's way more common than we think, and I'm glad to hear it felt that way to you." [source]

User: "My HOF was a spirit healer, very kind & very curious, & for years I've considered how that special connection to spirits might lend itself to an interest in Thedan necromancy & puzzling out where spirits & souls begin & end. Emmrich, Manfred/Curiosity and the wisps gave me so much to think about!" // Sylvia: "that's interesting about your HOF. They may've found some kindred spirits if they ever ventured further north." [source]

User: [was] "Dorian was taken over by a nominated writer for veilguard or if his legacy was more of a team effort ?" // Sylvia: "Dorian was in the capable hands of Writer Chee" [source]

User: "I’m also dying to know what Emmrich did during Rook's stint in the prison-my thought is he not only did the majority of the work on finding Rook, but in leading the team, prob finishing touches on the dagger clone, keeping the team together in Rook’s absence while barely holding himself together at times" // Sylvia: "I think he was indeed having some very sleepless, guilt-wracked nights, working himself too hard, and trying his best on that dagger." [source]

User: "I just wanted to tell you that I love Emmrich's part of the lighthouse the books the fact that it's right next to rook's room and that johanna is in it later and that you can talk to her" // Sylvia: "Thank you! I love what the level artist there did, it's such a cozy den of a place. And I'm glad you liked meeting Hezenkoss afterwards, all praise to the level and tech designers who got her in there." [source]

User: "Are the Watchers overall vegetarian, or was it a personal preference Emmrich developed?" // Sylvia: "I think it's a thing among some Watchers, but not all. Because they think a lot about life and death and the cycle of life, and their place in it, and what constitutes a death they feel comfortable with or not. My actual, original inspiration for it was from an old Call of Cthulhu TRPG book about Miskatonic University, set in the 1920s. There was a great little detail about the campus having a cafeteria that serves vegetarians. And when I read it, I got a little jolt because I was so used to vegetarianism in North America being portrayed as a relatively modern movement. But of COURSE there's always exceptions and cultural enclaves and so on. Just one of those moments you feel your understanding of what we were up to in the past shift a little, even if it felt obvious in retrospect." [source, two, three, four]

Sylvia re: writing Manfred: "Yep, Manfred was my guy too." [source]

Sylvia: "I'm glad you enjoyed meeting our gentleman necromancer. (Full credit to the great feedback I got from the other writers and editors early on, he wouldn't be as good without them.)" [source]

User: "I was curious I know none of emmrich's serious relationships ended up panning out But like did any of them get to the point that him and his partner at the time shared a living space I'm wondering if emmrich has ever lived with anyone besides manfred" // Sylvia: "That's an interesting question. Like a coward I will hedge my bets, but I could MAYBE see a few. Not many though." [source]

[fun-k-board]

Happy New Year!! 🎉

If it's alright, could I request Loki Headcanons about a Shy Lover or Secret Admirer? I imagine something like that wouldn't stay secret for long, knowing Loki, but I love the idea of the Lover in question being flustered beyond belief at being found out 💕

MARVEL RIVALS - LOKI LAUFEYSON With a Shy Secret Admirer Headcanons!

Note(s): I'm sorry this came out a bit late, college stressed me out so bad my body and mind did a factory reset. I'll be trying to finish the rest of my requests weekly.

"Oh?" Loki's eyes are light, something unusual for the trickster. Almost eager, they flick between you and the paper that's held loosely in his hand, the usual hint of amusement in his upturned lips. "You wrote these? Well, I can't say I'm not flattered, but you are aware I've been courting you for quite some time, yes?"

You and Loki would most likely know each other prior to you becoming his secret admirer, after all, he is a bit of a flirt and you're most likely one of many that he's charmed over the years. But, for him to accept your proposal, which is how I intend to write this as to avoid angst, he would need to reciprocate your feelings. In short, he'd probably be actively courting you while you do this.

It'd mostly be insignificant things, not killing you, maybe paying you a compliment every now and then, and maybe, just maybe, if he's feeling generous he'll find it in his heart to give you a gift. Typically it's jewellery, something that reflects him, gold with green jewels are his favourite. Necklaces are a no brainer, they're so easy to spot, and it's so easy to tell who it's from, too (You'll be lucky if he doesn't engrave his name on the damn thing).

Of course, he loves to tease you. It's so fun to see you squirm and try to hide away, even if he can't see the effect of the blood rushing there, he likes to hold a hand to your face every now and then to see if it's hot. One of his favourites is to whisper plans of mischief, and maybe try and get you to tag along in his next prank or attempt to steal the throne, it depends on his mood, really.

Infuriatingly, however, you don't seem to pick up on his obvious flirtations. He immediately decides that's an issue on your part, but he'll indulge you and give an extra flirty, witty remark every now and then. Wait- you're still not- oh you frustrate him endlessly! He's got half a mind to smite you, you know!

The thing is, Loki enjoys a good mystery and a thrilling hunt, but what he wants most of all is to be adored, worshiped, have thousands at his feet begging and pleading just for him to spare them a glance. So, when he starts getting little trinkets wrapped in bows, with papers written full of heartfelt devotion... Well, how can a God refuse such wonderful praise?

It's around that time of annoyance and pining, his stubbornness refusing to allow him to confess first, you must make the first move as it's obviously you who is obsessed with him, that he actually begins to receive your gifts. In such random places too, sometimes even tucked in the pocket of his clothes! Not that he doesn't admire the bravery to do such a thing.

At first he doesn't really look deep into it, he's content to find the very obviously placed gifts and doesn't care much for where they're found. As long as he's getting the attention he rightfully deserves, he doesn't care who it's from. Why should he need to know who loves him when he's being loved either way?

But, when he does want to find out this secret admirer's identity, perhaps in a ploy to make you jealous and confess, it's when he realises that it's you. The handwriting, the way of speaking, grammar, punctuation, and the nail in the coffin is when he catches you placing a note in his quarters while invisible.

This works out brilliantly.

Not only does it confirm in Loki's mind that you're utterly infatuated and obsessed with him, but it makes him believe that you were secretly aware of his courting all along. That you, given your shy nature, had done this to play into his trickster personality. He can't say he isn't impressed by your wits! (Someone please get him a reality check...)

Naturally, Loki plans something sweet yet embarrassing for his your confession, and despite his want for love and attention, he supposes that he'll make it a private affair. After all, he does want you to admit your love for him and giving you a panic attack would probably only drive you away.

The gardens are certainly beautiful this time of day, not bright enough to burn your eyes but not dark enough so you can't see, it's perfect. Not to mention quiet. Many people prefer to admire the gardens after their meals, either in the morning or in the night, but strangely never the evening, which leaves you by yourself. It's peaceful.

Yet the peace, as usual, is interrupted by a certain prince.

You turn around when you hear your name being called, your brows shooting upwards when you realise it's Loki. What could he need? Is he planning another prank? No matter, either way you're clearly involved. So, you wave a friendly hand and hope that you can ignore the sickly butterflies in your stomach that flutter harder when the sound of his shoes click closer and closer towards you.

"I want to speak with you." Loki hums, coming to a halt only a meter away from you.

You ask what he wants to speak with you about and he searches in his pocket for a moment until he finds a small piece of paper, holding it out in his palm almost like an offering. It looks familiar. Hesitant, you feel your fingers pinch a corner and take it for yourself, dread setting in your stomach as you realise. He figured it out.

When you look up sharply to explain, his face is inches from yours. The action causes your cheeks to get unbelievably hot, and even if the blood rushing to your face isn't visible, Loki knows you, he knows your tells. "I admire your worship, darling." He whispers, eyes narrowing as a sly grin grows on his lips. "But I would prefer it to be in person."

[afantasyoffiction]

buddie fic recs, pt 2

yall i hit 250 posts a few days ago so here's the Updated Version of my first post! aka ive read and posted a fuckton of buddie content since then :)

also i still don't tend to read long novel length fics very often so all are under 100k (most aus being 50-100k), and most oneshots are 5-10k words

best aus

racing with the brakes cut by letmetellyluaboutmyfeels. holy shit holy SHIT this one was good. altered my brain chemistry good. fast and furious au that sounds like it should be unexpected but honestly is more in character than canon

friends don't mean nothing to me (its us) by Kwills91. buddie becomes friends before eddie becomes a firefighter, and its just done ugh so well it was so brilliant. like seriously spamming my friend's texts brilliant keep chortling to myself abt it brilliant just ugh so good

but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher. time loop buck pov where he thinks he doesn't love eddie back and its goddamn delightful ok

your fingerprints smeared on my heart (lead my back to you) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels. oh god oh GODS this one WRECKED ME. 1800s buddie soulmate au with modern buddie as well jfc i WENT INSANE. yep ive posted abt this one already and i probably will again jfcccccc

when the universe screams by bucksbelly. omfg girl dad buck au? njwnasjdbvjhlsdfbfjh good lord this one was AMAZING go read it go read it right now

our secret moments in a crowded room (they've got no idea about me and you) by allstarsneptune. jfc im only human ok u give me sports players taylor swift themed au and i EAT THAT SHIT UP this was brilliant and even made me tolerate a few baseball references

canon compliant (ish) feelings realisations/first kiss

to build a nest (to build a home) by Kwills91. (yes ive been slowly working thru this writer's entire ao3 archive and yes theyre all brilliant, so im only putting a few on here. go read them all). this one made me fucking cry (for totally unimportant reasons don't think abt why shush) its so sweet go forth and enjoy

the ebb of your tide by twobirdsonestone. firefighter convention in indeannopolis (how tf do i spell that) = only one bed! super fun super cutesy

call me hot and pretty by anon. honestly conceptually i thought this would be kinda cringe and it fully wasn't i was so along for the ride

short n sweet (can you tell its my favourite kind)

inappropriate use of federal funding by spotsandsocks. this one is so...teehee teehee very fun

last and forever by kwills91, post s8 ep 6 which is super cute

what would you prefer i call you by kwills91 (seriously go look them up already). buddie first fight but its adorable

sounding like the rest of my life by coupe_de_foudre. another fic where everyone knows buddie is married but buddie

friends don't by disasterbuck. so silly so fun so real honestly

an inch away from more than just friends by ummrys. if you too want sapphic buddie smut go forth and enjoy and yes it will make you gayer

anything to make you stay by intellectual_applesauce. teehee bc eddie notices something about green shirts...

angsty and happy ending

stay with me (you're all i need) by accio magic. yep i reread this one and yep im recommending it again they COOKED ok they COOKED

leave the light on (ill be coming home) by HMSlusitania. i could not for the life of me remember if id read this one or not before so i just read it again and it was just as good it was soooo sooo good.

that is by no means all of the wonderful fics ive read but it is the extent im willing to go through my ao3 history. pls also check out the original post which has plenty more! ur all welcome (its a mess of an ao3 history guys this post has taken me ages)

also i should maybe self plug? ive got two random eddie pov oneshots up under the same username but ill do a new post when i start posting my big hiatus fix it fic!

[froagles]

I have- a lot to say about Chapter Four, so-

I sound a bit salty, because I am, but I promise it’s all not that serious and it is just a game! Let’s all remember that and be respectful

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD BIG RANT BELOW ⚠️

❌ There’s about to be a lot of negative so if you don’t want to see it skip to the positives! Totally fair! It came out yesterday and I was hyped and it didn’t meet my personal hype, so I am a bit salty ngl! So totally fair to skip ❌

I can’t really talk much about Yarnaby because his death was SUPER glitched? So I was kind of just like “…okay- I mean yikes for him but-“ I can’t even tell if it was something I did that made him burn? I’m someone who hates chase sequences (not because they’re bad I just get too stressed lmao) but his felt kiiiind of underwhelming? But again one of the places I assume he was supposed to be chasing was- glitched as all hell he didn’t chase me at all, but anyways, my son that I can’t draw, I’m so sorry

Pianosaurus- honestly? I didn’t give him the time of day during promos and such, and honestly now I’m ashamed I didn’t, I’m someone that needs time to just- stare at a character’s design for more than four seconds, just to picture their potential, and staring at his design after the fact, yeah, a MUSICAL chase scene? Are you KIDDING me?? I would’ve fucked with that, SO. HARD. I think Mob was trying to go for the funny route, that or just to show how unstable/strong Doey is, but- I don’t know maybe he could’ve come in and saved us.. after an actual chase scene? My man had ten seconds of life including the cutout, Mob hates dinosaurs fr

The Doctor- I don’t know man I wasn’t too hyped about him like- fight wise? But I knew he’d come with lore and it’d be a different kind of villain so I was still hyped in a sense, and- since I can’t say much about Yarnaby’s death- then the Nightmare Critters stuff? Like it was interesting he was playing with us, but he just dies so easily, like I guess it makes sense, he’s an immovable(?) computer, but for someone everyone expected to be the main villain, and who was talking so much shit to us the whole game, he was also kind of underwhelming, disappointing really the mindless drone computers was also all glitchy so I couldn’t tell you much there

Saved this for last (critique wise) because if you follow me/like my stuff you probably know I love the Nightmare Critters, they got me into actually drawing Poppy Playtime stuff instead of just fixating on the Smiling Critters but not drawing them, helped that I had finally gave in and watched chapter three (out of order.. I finally watched chapters one and two like a week ago, fake fan I know) in September, and then they came out in October

Maybe it’s dumb, but these stupid emo critters mean a lot to me for personal reasons, a lot more than they probably should, so to say I was excited was an understatement, and- the trailer didn’t give me high hopes, but I stayed hopeful, thinking maybe that tease of a Bigger Baba would lead to something? Like- “maybe she’s actually an ally! They did say multiple allies, she’s the black sheep of the Nightmare Critters! It makes sense! They have their own jingle made too, maybe there’s a commercial!” And then to not even get cutouts of them felt kind of like a stab in the heart

They started their big promotion of the chapter with a week long introduction and- nothing, and yes you can argue the same thing happened to the Smiling Critters in chapter three though comparatively they got way more than the Nightmare Critters, which they gave us more of in chapter four, but that’s just the thing, why make the Nightmare Critters in the first place then? It’s not like it’d tarnish the Smiling Critters’ brand, they were introduced AS antagonistic plushies trying to eat us, and if the idea was that they were such a failed attempt (in universe) at trying to attain the same popularity as the Smiling Critters.. why not say? Give us a note? A line? An acknowledgment besides them visibly attacking us to their existence? Even as a villain despite the symbolism Baba could’ve been a parallel to Catnap, something, but nope, she was just the main grunt character, like actually, that’s what her and the Nightmare Critters were, Yarnaby was a pet, they were like The Doctor sent out bugs to come at us, in the cage room they were just slightly bigger bugs, like what is that about by the way? Are they not Bigger Bodies? Are they the “main” Critters? Like tell us things about them please, even their little jingle is an Easter Egg there’s NO acknowledgment of them, at all, and to top it all off, no cutouts, when characters like Daisy have cutouts despite never being a character we face, why have us see the Smiling Critters cutouts again with the same dialogue- and all the other new characters get cutouts, but not the Nightmare Critters?? Why????? I dunno, it’s not that serious but it’s incredibly disappointing for me personally, as we had months of hype for- literally nothing

Edit: I have more to say actually, why the heck was Baba even advertised as different from the rest of the Nightmare Critters? In everything we get of them she’s in the middle, or the main focus, the spotlight, for.. what? She’s the only one attacking us? Like I just don’t get it, I still believe a better plot were to have her be a parallel to Catnap, because they’re similar situations in a way, Baba’s Prototype was just Dr. Sawyer instead, just.. minus having a hinted personality, but maybe this time, we could’ve saved her when we couldn’t Catnap or something? So like it’s not too similar, but I dunno, literally anything would’ve been better than what we got

✅ But! It wasn’t all bad, this chapter did have a bit of good in it that I enjoyed, case in point- ✅

Doey, GOD I love his colours, I jokingly hated him because I fucking hate drawing circles, and this man is nothing but circles, but my actual opinions pre release I just couldn’t wait to see him animated, I love characters that don’t have to deal with anatomy, I hate anatomy, stretch away king, but I didn’t have much of an opinion otherwise, then we find out he’s made up of three people? The lore is hot, his jingle is a bop also, the fact he killed his (well one of the people’s) parents, that was illegal, stop that, and I’m glad that he didn’t just agree with Poppy’s plan, but also I wish they talked about the long term? Say they defeat The Prototype, it’s not like they can go back into society, I’m surprised no one had that existential thought, his death though- a bit convoluted but yeah, also to my understanding The Prototype set off the bombs right? But we still planned to do it, just maybe we could’ve moved the Safe Haven guys out beforehand I dunno, but that was such a sad death, he said SORRY TO US. US???? BRO WE SUUUUUCK, RIP the king of this chapter

Safe Haven, omfg that was just such a cool concept to me, I guess you could say that it’s not really original but I don’t really care about all that, kind of wish there was more of a variety of toys in it though (yeah I know there were a couple Boogie Bots and a Mini Huggy but it was still clearly Smiling Critters focused y’know? I swear I don’t hate the SC guys I’m just trying not to be biased towards them) I’m glad they had a memorial room, and it’s SO lucky of them to have a doctor I don’t know how if they were all children but that doctor is the goat, in the thumbnail of the trailer they make a point to show that Doey could put things in himself, and we also know from tapes that he can make it where others can’t, surely there’s big enough cracks to where he could go up in the surface and lowkey rob a store to get them food right? Pretty please? Give these people food T^T ALSO I’m glad they actually talked, I didn’t expect that to be honest, yay :3

I was not expecting to see BBI Hoppy but I’m so glad we did, my fav Smiling Critter hiiiiii :3, I love her voice, and it makes me wonder if she was the last Critter besides Dogday and Catnap, because maybe they would’ve mentioned the others if they were alive? I dunno, but I’m just glad to see her

Bouncing off of those two points ^, we got more Smiling Critters shit!! Not much in the grand scheme of things, but we got a whole BBI Hoppy tape, a blurry image of I thiiiiink BBI Bubba on one of the TV screens, and an entire room full of the little Smiling Critters, that counts probably, we got more that makes me happy :3

Out of order but seeing that Kissy in the train car- omfg I think that was who Riley from the notes was- RIP Queen, Jesus-

By the way I WILL be using the fact that Touille’s tail is lowkey kind of like Catnap’s that shit is so long, we sure he’s not an opossum lol?

The jingles made by Black Gryphon slaaaapped bro, make them longer puhleaseeeee 🙏

Kissy Missy, send tweet, she’s alive my angel she’s so TRAUMATIZED go AWAY PROTOTYPE

Poppy joining the realistic panic attack club- I don’t blame her for running, and I don’t think any of us should, we the player suck LMAO we deserve this, it was sad for Kissy though the queen

Also people saying fuck Ollie- why? Ollie was real, it’s The Prototype that did all that, not him, leave him alone he’s a bean

I kind of expected Huggy Wuggy was alive, these fucking wuggies are made of titanium I guess, what if the two reunite? They should give each other a hug with their long velcro paw pads, that’s what should happen Kissy and Huggy need to hug as probably the only BBI’s left (presumably, if Boxy is alive we cheer)

As disappointed in the chapter as I am, as it was my first time seeing it release live, it wasn’t all bad, maybe I could better judge some parts when they fix the glitching

I am working on some more drawings! Sorry I’ve slowed, I’m still not used to drawing so much lowkey, at least not like fully colouring and even doing backgrounds, if you couldn’t tell I only ever really do sketches lol, but yeah sorry things slowed I think I hurt my hand somehow, but sorry for the rant! I can get really ramble-y I’ve just never had a place to do so, despite my opinions I won’t be stoping posting art! So fret not, anyways, byeeeeeee!

[bluemerakis]

this post is a lil different from my usual, but i’m going to be real with you all—my mental health hasn’t been the greatest as of late. with college picking up full-fledged, i’ve been super drained, and ontop of real life issues, the pressure of wanting to get works out for you all on tumblr has been taking a massive toll on me :,)

it’s really a fault owed to the pressure i put on myself, but that’s why i think i just need to take a step back while i figure out a new routine where i can balance both college and this little, passionate hobby of mine. it’s no secret i’m pursuing a difficult degree, and i’ve only consistently started posting on tumblr nov last year where i was on holiday and had all the time to devote to this app—but that’s changed now and i’ve just gotta find a way to balance things so that i’m not investing too much time into this hobby when my focus should be on my studies. so it’s all a new experience to me and it’s been a bit of a challenge to navigate now that i’ve got a fuller schedule.

i’m also sorry that ive been so awful with responding to dms, but i hope this post serves as an explanation as to why. when i’m not in the greatest state of mind, i struggle to reach out and interact with people—but i swear it’s never personal. i really do love and appreciate every single one of you and it’s a lovely part of my days getting to interact with all my moots and followers alike. and most importantly, i appreciate your endless patience with me!! i really do. i know i’m not the most consistent poster and that i don’t always release things when i said i would—but i swear i’ll try to do better in the future!!

to all the requests that have been sent through to me, know that i have started each and every one of them. i have been trying to complete them in the order from the oldest to the newest requests i’ve received, but i have no definite answer for when they’ll be released. i genuinely love all of your lovely ideas and i can’t wait until the time i get to fully bring them to life and present it to the public. i am still happy to receive requests during my break, but please just send them in with the knowledge that i do take my time with them. thank you!! <3

so long story short, i’ll be taking a break from tumblr. i’m not too sure for how long—when i figure it out, i’ll figure it out. i’ll still be hopping on every now and again to check in with my moots, but in terms of creating, i’ll have to put a pause on that. if i find the heart and energy to, i might randomly release works i’ve been busy wrapping up.

in the meantime, i hope you all remember to take care of yourselves and i’m sending my love and support to all of you who may be enduring invisible battles right now—you’re not alone and you’re so dearly loved. ❤️ i’ll see you all soon.

love, mera

[guusagi-art]

A lil art dump of an idea I randomly had: a parody of the very trendy webcomics about reincarnating into novels! They are super heteronormative stories, so I made the ML queer and her love is non-binary!!

I even gave then Modern AU designs for fun aaaa I love them so much now!!!

[starry-bi-sky]

ive been hesitating to ask this bc youve been on a roll with the clone^2au (which i am frothing over) but could i poke you for some childhood friend au? bc GOD i wanna see how danny reacts to reuniting w jason or how the rest of the batfam react to learning jason never told danny of his resurrection or wondering if dannys gonna put jokers dead body on a display/offering to jasons grave. i havent been normal about this since i first read it and was wondering. thank you for your writing.

RAAAAHHHH DON'T BE HESITANT I AM JUST AS FERAL OVER MY CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU AS I AM WITH CLONE^2 I AM DELIGHTED BY THIS. Like.,,,, i literally love them,,, so much. I can't listen to The Crane Wives without thinking of them.

(which is my fault - the ao3 fic of them has literally only crane wives lyrics for each chapter title and summary (posted AND the ones not written) so of course im gonna associate with them.)

(if you wanna listen to some of their songs while thinking of cfau here are my recommendations: "Once & for All", "Here I Am", "Hollow Moon" is a Danny AND Jason song to me, this would be my go-to song for an animatic of CFAU if i had the skills for it. "Tongues and Teeth", "Curses" and "take me to war" is a heavy cfau danny song to me, and of course, "the moon will sing")

Like they're BEST friends dude, they're two sides of the same coin and when they were kids they would do this thing where their 'fingers crossed'/'double-crossed' was them hooking their index fingers in the fingers crossed gesture.

and i'm actually currently rewriting my original post into a more fic-like format, and when I'm done I'll post it on here under the cfau tag - with the original post still in tact. But its,,, gonna be so long dude,,,, the original behemoth was just over 9000 words,,, and I've written 3k words already of the new one and we haven't even reached Jason and Danny reuniting at the gala yet,,, i need to get back to that,,,

and then to answer your questions!! god im almost hesitant to answer because i dont wanna spoil the little fic i had planned for it but also like,, its not like im gonna spoil everything, right? and answering the questions isnt the same as writing the scene down so!!

i love danny and jason's reuniting, like i've thought about it SO much and I've thought about it happening after Danny kills the Joker. I know the reveal could have been before that, and it could have been equally just as dramatic but like??? Thematically, doing it after danny kills the joker is SO good. To me at least.

Because like?? Jason's been in somewhat denial about danny's plan to kill the joker for months. ever since danny told him that he wanted to at the gala. And from Jason's pov its not even technically a plan. He sees his best friend for the first time after five years and his best friend still isn't over his death. He hasn't stepped foot in Gotham since his funeral and now suddenly he's here.

And he's still so full of grief over his death that he tells a masked vigilante that he's going to kill the guy that did it, who lives in said masked vigilante's city. And danny's got that look in his eyes that Jason knows so well that means he's being serious. And yet he still doesn't know if he should believe him or not.

And then he does. Danny kills him. And Jason can't fucking believe it. And when he goes and sees Danny, Danny's hands are still covered in blood. And that reunion? God like a fucking firework show. Danny's so fucking angry, and pissed, and hurt, and so goddamn overjoyed that he's alive and here that he sends them both to the ground, and if he doesn't calm down he's gonna take out the power in a five block radius.

there's just so, so much yelling on Danny's end. And then so much crying, first from Danny and then them both. because god, you're alive. you're here. i've missed you so much. i'm never letting you out of my sights again.

and Joker's death! God I don't want to actually say too much about that, but the way I have it set up thematically makes me actually not want danny to take any part of the joker with him as an offering. and he may actually forego that particular ghost etiquette and offer something else as an offering to Jason in substitute to not bringing him the Joker's heart/head/ritualistic body part.

Because you know what the last thing a man whose been spending the last two decades of his life building himself up to be larger than life would want? A death that's unremarkable. :) and that's all i'll put on the matter for now.

and the batfam!! they technically already know that jason hasn't told danny he was resurrected, and plenty of them have mixed feelings on them. largely bruce and dick i think, considering they saw firsthand how close jason and danny were when they were kids.

Dick was honestly surprised at first when he found out that Jason hadn't told Danny he was alive - and on one hand he understands the reasoning for it, and on the other hand he isn't sure if it was such a good idea. Especially after he sees Danny again after he arrives back in Gotham and sees just how badly Jason's death was still affecting him. But it's not like he's going to try and convince Jason to tell him - he can make his own choices, even if Dick has questions about them.

Bruce has much the same thoughts as Dick, so there's not really much to add here other than he might bring it up once or twice to Jason like, vaguely. And then immediately drops it when Jason shuts him down. He might actually somewhat...?? prefer that Jason hasn't told Danny because that raises a lot of questions and could jeopardize their identities. However, again, Jason can make his own choices and there's not much Bruce can do about it other than disapprove from afar.

Tim who knew of Danny from stalking the Wayne family shares similars sentiments of being surprised that Jason didn't tell Danny, but again, yeah, understands the thought process to some extent. Doesn't bring it up ever.

Everyone else who hadn't seen firsthand how close Danny and Jason are don't really have much opinion on it -- Jason didn't tell his best friend he was alive, great, he also didn't tell them either so it's not like its that much of a surprise. It would've been more of a surprise to them if Jason had told Danny before he told Bruce and co. Damian may make a comment or two about Jason not telling Danny, but its not about how he can't believe he didn't tell him or anything like it.