#the mere thought of the potential fucked up things I may have to see in my notifs for this post had made me literally puke already

[2sw]

"Dean physically hitting/beating Sam" requested by anonymous

I had this same themed gifset in my drafts for quite some time, but since anon requested it, I remade it to finally post it. I excluded the occasions when dean was under the influence of MoC even though the show explicitly stated that the mark only amplifies what's already there. I also excluded a few other scenes for obvious reasons because I know how to take context into account, so I think this is a fair gifset. now apply the same standard to sam and do the math. and my original intention was, and still is, to show sam's reaction because everything I post is about sam. I don't even consider this as a dean crit post, this is just how he is and it is part of the show you can't deny.

[mrsnegan]

Hi, my request: age gap negan smut

Pretty please, I’m taking anything 🙏

I’m obsessed with your work

[This praise makes me blush, thank you so much for reading my fics! 🥰 And I'm so sorry it took so long to write a little something for your request. It's just a drabble, but I hope you like it!]

Pairing: Negan x f!Reader

Warnings: smut, (unspecified) age gap, fingering, (semi) public, dirty talk, mentions of exhibitionism, a bit of softdom!Negan, some body fluids

He peppers your skin with hot kisses, right there, where your neck connects with your collarbone. A rich moan spills from your lips, your fingers mindlessly caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't even remember how it started, why the two of you are tangled right now, him pressing you against his body as well as against the cold wall of your house. Everyone in Alexandria seems to despise him because of what he has done years prior. Of course you have heard about it, people love to gossip, even in a lovely little town such as Alexandria.

You don't mind, though. His aura, that self-assured smile, the cocky attitude, his experience, it all makes him even more interesting in your eyes. He may have done some fucked up things you absolutely condone, but you live in a fucked up world and people do a lot of fucked up things to survive or keep each other safe.

Negan rips you out of your thoughts when his teeth playfully bite at your skin.

"Stay with me, I'm just starting," he whispers into your neck, his eyes flashing upwards to scan your face. "Wouldn't want you to miss a thing."

His words send a shiver through your body, heat pooling between your legs. You don't know why the age difference makes your little banter even more arousing, but it does. The mere prospect of a man like him between your thighs sets a fire to your core.

One of his hands travels south, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, lovingly teasing your nipples hardening under all the material.

"So responsive," he teases. His hand wanders downwards, gripping the hem of the skirt you're wearing.

For just a heartbeat you contemplate to grip his hand and yank him away from where you want him the most and into the safeness of your home. Though the delicious feeling of his touches, the risk of potentially getting caught even if you're hidden away in the shadows, nobody to be heard or seen nearby, it all drives you insane. So much so you urge him on to touch you by opening your legs further.

"Shit baby, you're needy, aren't you?"

Nodding your head, you pull him in for another messy kiss. "Please Negan," you whimper.

He whistles lowly when his hand moves upwards on your thigh, noticing what special gift you have prepared for him when his fingers don't meet fabric. He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, pure desire being reflected right back at him.

"No panties, baby? Fucking hell, someone's eager."

"Only for you," you confess, biting your lip playfully.

You watch Negan with shaking breaths when you feel his fingers connecting with your bare pussy.

"Fuck me, you're so damn wet," he marvels, two of his fingers stroking you with featherlight touches, spreading your wetness from your opening towards your clit and back down again.

Shivers run down your spine, cheeks flushed with how easy it is for Negan to turn you on, to get you this wet with only so much effort.

"Need you," you whisper, head dizzy, knees weak.

"Don't worry, I've got you." He smiles at you mischieviously while sinking first one, then two of his fingers into your welcoming heat.

There's no way for you to swallow the moan spilling from your lips, hands flying to Negan's shoulders to anchor yourself.

"Fucking shit, such a tight little pussy", he marvels while his thumb draws lazy circles on your clit, fingers moving slowly. "But you gotta keep quiet, baby, or do you want to give 'em a show?" With his last words, he fucks into you a bit faster, curling his fingers to find the sweet spot which makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Me fucking you in front of all those uptight asshats, making you come over and over again? Can feel you squeeze my fingers, dirty little girl," he rambles, only inches away from your lips.

Heat licks at your skin, blood boiling hot from how good Negan makes you feel with only his fingers and this foul mouth of his.

"More, please," you choke out between whimpers.

Negan obliges with a sinister grin, withdrawing his fingers to add a third one, setting a fast pace with the first stroke.

"Oh my God," you moan high-pitched, feeling his fingers bump into your g-stop over and over again, the heel of his hand deliciously connecting with your clit.

"Shh, sweet girl," he whispers, "gotta keep quiet." His hand, not occupied with fucking you senseless, finds a home on your mouth, silencing your moans into little whimpers.

"That's better, isn't it?"

You're unable to answer him, hands flying to his forearm, clawing at his muscles because of the immense pleasure. You feel full, so full of him and those are just his fingers.

Legs beginning to shake from the upcoming orgasm he's going to fuck out of you, against the wall of your house, at a back alley hidden only by the shadows of the night, you feel yourself spiraling. You moan into Negan's palm, not even able to stop yourself from drooling all over his hand with how good and stupid he fingers you.

"Look at that. You gonna come like this, stuffed full of my fingers," he whispers into your ear, tenderly biting into your earlope while his hand pumps away between your legs.

"Go on, baby, come all over my hand, c'mon."

His words drive you over the edge with full force. The white-hot pleasure crashes over you, body shaking in his grasp, your screams of pleasure silenced by his hand which is still firmly pressed against your mouth.

"There you go, my sweet girl, fuck, look at you, making a mess," he praises, talking you through it.

When the last tremours of your orgasm travel through your body, he lowers his palm from your mouth and withdrawing his fingers from your core.

Drawing in harsh breaths, you register that both his hands are drenched from you, one from your salvia, the other from your orgasm.

"Shit, my girl's a wet one."

His girl. Your heart hammers in your chest, not only from your earth-shattering orgasm. You wipe your mouth, searching Negan's lips for a sensual kiss.

"Shut up, Negan." You slap his arm playfully, a breathless laugh escaping you. Taking his hand, you take some wobbly steps to the porch of your house. "Come inside."

"Oh baby, if you insist," he answers with a sinister smirk, following you into your house.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 40

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Numb. All your life, you strived for that state. To not feel a thing. It only took the sacrifice of your independence and body to achieve it.

Your mind is spent, you just can’t care about anything. Not the man suddenly missing, not the baby attached to your tit, and certainly not that dull tugging in your pelvis. 

“Dear, are you hungry?” Dottie asks as she appears in the doorway, “little thing must be takin’ it out of ya.”

You grumble. Your stomach clutches but your appetite is almost nonexistent. Everytime you see yourself, everytime you get a glance at your body, you can’t help but cringe. No wonder he’s gone. You were no prize before and now he’s ruined any semblance of attraction.

“You have to eat,” she chides, “‘specially if you’re gonna keep this one well fed.”

She comes to you as you finish feeding. You look down at the baby. You’re still waiting for the light switch to flip on. That magical moment everyone mythologises when you’ll feel that motherly yearning. When all common sense is wiped up by the primal instincts of maternity. You got nothing. 

The baby gets no reaction from you. Not disgust, not fear, not love, or joy or anything else they say you should feel.

You hand her over to Dottie. She burps the child and lays her in the rolling bassinet nearby. You lean against the pillows and stare at the room. You refused to stay in the one you shared with Lloyd, instead you took one of the guest beds.

If he ever shows up, you doubt he’ll want anything from you. You can’t offer him anything. The doctor says at least six weeks. If it’s up to you, never.

Dottie leaves you. She tries to get you to do more than grumble and sleep but there’s nothing else you can do. She is Marion’s mother. She hasn’t said a damn thing about him running off and you haven’t seen Harlan since the delivery room. You can’t tell if the are ashamed about their son or merely stuck in an awkward situation.

You close your eyes. This is what you knew would happen. This is what you yelled at Lloyd. And as always, you’re right and he doesn’t fucking listen. For as unpredictable as you believed he was before, you see through him more and more. You know who and what he is.

For a moment, you miss the life you had before. The one you thought was a prison but now you see was freedom. Working nights, coming home, sleeping on your own hours, eating on your own clock, coming and going wherever you liked, even if it wasn’t often. If you could go back, you would. 

You would pretend like Colin loved you and just forget about Ally. At least he kept the act up. Your eyes burn and you wiggle your nose.

You will not cry. You are numb. You don’t feel. You don’t want to feel. You don’t even want to be.

💎

“A walk will be nice, dear,” Dottie says as she lays the baby in the stroller.

You sit on the bench near the door. You feel weak and worn. It’s only been two weeks. You have a lifetime left of this. You won’t survive it.

Dottie can’t stay forever. If you were her age, you’d already be off enjoying your retirement. When you are her age, you’ll still be stuck here.

Unless… he decides to throw you out. The kid will be grown by then. You’ll be old and ragged and useless. With any luck, you won’t find out one way or the other.

“The doctor says a slow walk is good. Keeping active will help you recover.”

You nod. You don’t argue. In a way, you are humiliated by her constant doting. More like pestering. She knows you can’t do this alone, just like you do. She does a good job of hiding her anger. If you were her, you’d be livid at your son for pulling this shit.

“Right, well, let’s get going,” she chirps as she opens the door and wheels the stroller through.

You don’t move as she rolls it down to even ground and she kicks the brakes down on the wheels. She comes back in and offers to help you up. You slide to the edge of the bench and grunt as you stand on your own.

You feel her gaze on you and you refuse to meet it. There’s something unsaid. Staying active. You have a lot of weight to take off. Yeah, you know.

You follow her slowly across the entry way and come out into the sunlight. You lean on the railing as you descend after her down the few steps. You keep your head down, shoulders slump, and keep your hand from meeting your stomach out of habit.

She flips the brakes up and she slowly sets off. You do your best to keep up, watching the toes of your speaker. The sun beats down hotly. Summer still blazes hotly. The loose hoodie you wear fills with heat and has you sweating.

She goes through the gate and turns onto the sidewalk. You lean against a pole to catch your breath. She stops patiently, cooing at the baby as you push yourself away. You apologise and press on. It is easier to be outside. It doesn’t feel so stagnant.

Dottie comments on the houses you pass, the pretty flowers, and the trimmed hedges. She likes the neighbourhood. To you, it looks like a circle of hell. You turn back at the end of the street and head back to the house. You’re drained entirely.

“Any ideas for lunch?” Dottie asks.

“Not hungry,” you answer.

“Aw, well, you do have to eat, just like Luna,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” you utter.

You’re startled as your name comes from behind you. Before you can reach the gate, you pause and face the speaker. Andy jogs towards you and stops before the stroller as Dottie turns it with her.

“Uh, hey, I saw you passing by,” he smiles and gives a nervous look at the other woman, “I haven’t seen you around, I just wanted to say hi. I… I didn’t know the baby was here already.”

You stare at him. You see the doubt in his cheek, a small twitch. You can’t just let him see how defeated you are.

“Two weeks,” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice light, “she’s doing well.”

That’s the thing you noticed. Now that the baby is born, people don’t ask how you are. Not until they ask about the baby.

“Wow,” he says, “um, I’m Andy,” he says to Dottie, “I live next door.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she steps around the stroller to shake his hand, “I’m Dottie, the grandmother.”

He looks between you and the older woman. You squint. He doesn’t think…

“Oh, she’s not mine, the daddy is,” Dottie chuckles, “still, she’s a good daughter. Couldn’t be luckier.”

“Mind if I…” he points to the carriage.

“Go on, she’s a cute thing,” Dottie allows, “name’s Luna. Like Moonlight.”

He nears and hunches to see into the stroller. He aws and wiggles his finger at the baby. You watch him. He smiles at the child so easily. Every time you look at her, you just want to cry.

“Great, er, so just wanted to put it out there, if you need anything I’d be happy to help out,” he offers as he retreats to stand across from you, “you know, I’ve done it all before. I probably have some toys and stuff still hanging around.”

“You got kids?” Dottie asks.

“I had one,” Andy’s veneer falls just a little, “he had an accident.”

“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t imagine,” she preens, “you are so kind. I’m sure we could use some company in that big house.”

“Lloyd will be okay with that?”

“He’s away on business,” she dismisses quickly and your muscles tense as you try to conceal your chagrin.

“That’s too bad. How about I come over and make some dinner? Tonight? Tomorrow? Give you two some time to relax.”

“Ah, wow, you are gallant, ain’t ya?” Dottie says, “how about tonight? The weather’s supposed to be fine, we can eat outside.”

“Works for me,” Andy announces triumphantly, “I’ll be over at five, does that work?”

“Sure thing,” Dottie affirms, “now, we should get the little one down, she’s starting to fuss.”

“Of course,” Andy grins and your eyes meet his. You try but can’t muster a smile. “See ya then.”

You nod as Dottie returns the sentiment. You turn and continue towards the gate. 

“What a nice man,” she says, “beautiful eyes… oddly familiar, don’t ya think?”

“I guess,” you mutter as you drag your feet. 

You really wish she hadn’t accepted the invite. You just want to be alone, or as alone as you can be with a child attached to you.

[oceanlipgloss]

ICING ON THE CAKE

LEVIATHAN.

+ warnings: implicit suggestive themes, light angst, strong language.

+ female mc, feminine pronouns.

Is cold sugar a thing?

Some souls are like iced sugar. No objective, sane person would ever say—or so much as think, for that matter—that this man is sweet.

‘How the fuck could he be?’

That’s what they would wonder.

And they were right in that.

There are times, however, when a cold shoulder summons a sugar rush. Playing hard-to-get can be a cool game. Except, this man wasn’t doing that. That coldness, that scorn, it was crafted from something bitter.

A dark past.

Did they know? That he, too, had once upon a time been an innocent child—a pretty, clueless creature holding its bloated heart with small hands, showing everyone its tears.

Very early. He had gotten corrupted by life much too early. That’s why he had become so icy.

Actually...he could be sweet as well, in a sense.

She remembered the jewel in her wet palm. Its sparkle was once dimmed with his blood. He had risked his soul to keep a promise, to protect a gem.

Warmth is something he did possess.

But to believe he would not die, to have faith that he could not be killed...

How so very arrogant of him.

Then again, is childhood's darkness not to blame? Had it not told him that he would always survive? Had it not whispered temptations of immortality in his ears and promised him that he would never die?

Beauty makes some people feel like their head is underwater. It cuts out everything else in the brain for a minute. Snide beauty, on the other hand, it has even greater charms still.

The coldness is just icing on the cake.

Being beautiful is marvellous, but being unapproachable makes it even better, that much greater.

Lovely faces bring about good deals. Ethereal existences often tend to get away with many things. Molten hearts. Broken brains. Filthy souls. Violent murder.

It would be too boring if beautiful kings were easy to have. Enchanting someone like him and bringing him to his knees, why should it even be a piece of cake?

Forget the pleasure of a challenge.

He was a rare, most alluring specimen. He should be very difficult—near impossible—to reach. Taking hold of his fingertips alone should be treacherous.

One has to try hard to get even the most simple of things, so why should luring him in be easy?

Excited for the wait, burning for the process, desperate for the result.

So ironic, so fun.

Winning him over would not merely be a magical experience, but an ultimate, legendary accomplishment; she would try until his tongue on her lips marked them forever, until his sweat on her body shimmered like stardust.

Oh, but he already wanted her. Lust and attraction just turned into problem killers. Apparently, she wouldn’t have to wait that long, or even try that much.

+notes: the time for the last of my surviving ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs to take the stage has come. I don't quite know what I had in mind for this one, to be honest; it's been there for so long and has been really bothering me with its static presence for a while. And seeing that I had no clue about the direction it's meant to take, I finally decided to polish it a little, toss some word-vomit in, and simply put it up as is. It was either that or it's dead. I chose to salvage it, I guess. I thought it had potential and didn't want it to bid the world goodbye, yet I didn't know how I felt about it at first, though, and I'm too lazy and tired to find out—so it's whatever, I suppose lol but I think I like it. I'm just glad to have it off my hands and out of my notes because it was genuinely pricking my nerves :S

There are still a few more ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ WIPs each is only 1 line/2 lines long lol that I long ago scratched out of the equation, and those are annoying me very much too. I may either kill them off with regret (for some) and cold blood (for others), or post them someday soon/with time, but that's very unlikely. For now, however, I do not plan on writing anything new about the game's devils/angels—meaning unless I explicitly state in the notes within a ‘What in “Hell” is Bad?’ piece that an idea is new/recent, it's one of my old, buried WIPs revived and made into a finished fic.

[spoiler] also, this fic holds light inspiration from Leviathan's 'Bloodshed' story, particularly from the part in which Leviathan gives MC the magical jewel and it's implied that he got wounded so as to protect the jewel and keep his promise of gifting it to MC.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[luneariaa]

✧ tornare insieme.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : claudio serafino x fem! reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 2k+ ( i got carried away )

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : since the breakup, his mind has been so restless. on one night, he unexpectedly bumps into you within the park.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : not much proofread, claudio seemed a lil miserable here though ( only at the beginning parts ) and might be ooc.

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : brainrotting over him still ngl like 💙 -- and idk what i wrote for the most part :")

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 🏹

It’s been days since the whole break up thing happened. Have weeks passed, even? He didn’t really give you any proper reasons to do so, and it feels so abrupt. He could see through your reluctant actions– truly a tough decision to do. It’s not like you got any other choices at that moment.

The Italian exorcist remembers that day all too well; your mere expression showing a visible pained look, both physically and mentally. You didn’t even have the time to process everything, simply just doing what you were told.

Are you not good enough for him?

But during all those times when he’s not together with you anymore, he feels restless. He feels lost, he doesn’t know what to do. Claudio knew he had to do that eventually. The immense feeling of regret begins to resurface within him, now wishing he could take those words back as he was trying to take a break in his private study room. 

It’s been a tiring day as per usual for him today, and he wishes for nothing more than your sole comfort alone– even when it’s not possible after what happened. His duties may be done for the day, but his heart feels as if something is still lacking. He misses you. 

You were the light of his life, and he just messes those up further. Claudio even wondered if you still thought of him, as he did with you.

With a frustrated sounding sigh, he brings one of his hands up to rub his forehead to at least alleviate some of his current stress pain. He misses you dearly– plain and simple. He knew he fucked up, and it’s not really by his own favor. 

Claudio genuinely thought that his line of work is quite dangerous for someone like you, especially since you were too involved with him. He has forgotten on how you actually accepted his whole job and lifestyle as the exorcist leader for the Archers of Sirius– highly aware of the tasks that he has to do often, having no complaints. You accepted him for how he truly is.

It’s reassuring, to say the least. But also concerning, since he doesn’t want any potential danger to harm you while you’re not in his sight. Which as a result, he had to push you away, to prevent any of those from happening.

But now, the pain he feels is too much to bear. He needs you back. He wanted to make things right again; he doesn’t care at this point. You mean so much to him, and forever it will stay that way.

It’s quite late at night, as most people by that hour can be assumed to be already asleep, or merely just resting within their own private sanctuary. Claudio left the building not too long ago, wanting to clear his mind before making any proper decisions. No feeling of anxiousness, or even fear creeping up within him, as he had faced even scarier things during his time as an exorcist. But God, he feels pathetic and miserable for wandering around almost aimlessly in the middle of the night.

The lone moon shines overhead; simply looking beautiful as ever, and filled the atmosphere with such serenity, yet it’s just not enough for his preoccupied mind, filled with the mere thoughts of you.

Instead of letting his negative thoughts completely take over, his slate blue eyes wandered over the view of some parts of the city that’s being displayed. The sight alone never fails to amaze him.

But as he still tries to get a grasp of his surroundings, a familiar figure came into his line of vision; noticing how the said person even halted on their tracks so quickly. The expression of disbelief is present, but he wouldn’t even want to blame it on them for that matter.

Has fate decided to play around with them?

Of course, you’ve recognized that familiar tall, dark blue-haired male from somewhere as well– somewhere, which perhaps, better left forgotten. But you couldn’t, since your feelings for him are still one of those that you hold so dearly to yourself.

It looks like the both of you coincidentally had the same idea of going out on this seemingly fine night– you really can’t tell it anymore as much. Claudio was contemplating for a good minute there, thinking if he should openly acknowledge your sole presence, or simply walked toward another direction, but in the end– 

– “(Y/N)?” He begins to call out to your name; his voice sounding soft, yet lowered than usual, as if he was actually hesitant to break the lingering silence that was built between the two of you.

Your mind went blank for a moment there, unsure on what or how to answer him to that. Without thinking much, you tried to walk back towards the direction as to where you previously were from. 

“Wait!” The Italian male instantly cries out to you once more, catching up to your retreating form with ease. To be fair, he doesn’t really know how to deal with the whole situation either, since he never really experiences things like this with anyone else, but you. Only you.

“Can we talk, please..?” So you stopped in your tracks, turning your head to finally face him again, but this time, properly. You couldn’t find it in yourself to ignore him completely when his voice sounded so sincere, just like how he always did when you both are still in a relationship. Never once has he mistreated you, there’s that.

“About what, exactly?”

“Can we find anywhere more private, at least? Just this once– I want you to hear me out.” It’s been a while since you two talked like this, so it feels a little.. Odd. Yet, it gives you a lot of mixed feelings; you couldn’t even tell.

“It’s important.”

You gave it some thought, before eventually sighing with a defeated look. His expression alone makes you feel something, which stirs within you so much. Like, you genuinely feel bad if you chose to ignore or reject his simple request. What if he means it this time? The least you could do is to hear him out, even for this once.

“Fine. Just this once."

"You got any places in mind, or my place instead? Since it’s already quite late.” And why would you even offer your place to begin with? You wouldn't even know.

“Your place,” he replied almost instantly, very well aware of how late it already has been. Claudio wanted to settle everything properly for once, given the current opportunity– or even if it meant that this would be the last time he would be able to see you.

“Lead the way.”

“I’ll follow and watch from behind.”

The dark blue haired male didn’t mean to sound creepy in any way, but rather, his tone has shown the hint of protectiveness underlying within it, even though you both aren’t exactly together anymore. Still one of his admirable traits, but you wouldn’t say it out loud. Even when the two of you started heading towards the said destination, he remains behind with a quite respectable distance, silently feeling as if he has a sense of purpose for the night.

“This better be good.”

“I promise, I’ll make it worth your time.” Claudio reassures to your utterances; his eyes taking in his changing surroundings that begin to fill his senses like no other. But deep down, it’s like a mask he’s trying to put up, feeling the nervousness gradually eating him up internally. The last thing he wanted to do is to mess things up further and you being disappointed by him in a lot of ways.

Once the two of you arrived at where you’re currently residing, you told him to wait for you in the living room as you went to prepare some drinks for the both of you. You don’t even understand how you can be so casual right now– especially when your literal ex was inside your home around this specific hour, but you couldn’t care less. If his intentions were true, that’s the least you could do. You can fight if anything.

His eyes silently followed over your movements from afar, not making any attempts to approach you there or anything akin to it. The momentary stillness within the air definitely helps a bit; trying to remain calm himself.

Not much has changed inside your house either. The photo frames are still in place, and even the small vase with flowers in it looked so fresh; placed just on top of the table nicely. But what caught his attention is the pendant he used to give you in the past– hanging someplace safe, yet visible to those who are observant enough.

The exorcist was surprised that you would even keep that, clearly thought you got rid of it sometime during the breakup.

A nostalgic look flashes over his features, seeing as the remains of his magic somehow works perfectly still within the pendant, yet faint– as if to symbolize loneliness, even somber. It means a lot to him that you didn’t choose to throw it away.

Not too long after, his gaze shifted once again when you returned from the kitchen with the cups in your hands, settling yourself down across from him once you’ve given the cup to him. 

“Alright, speak.”

You didn’t intend to sound so harsh, as it’s the first thought that you literally had at the moment. He didn’t seem to mind as much, clearly understanding as he nodded slightly. “Right.”

“I just– I just wanted to apologize for how I broke up with you so suddenly back then.. And I realized that I never really gave you a clear explanation either.”

Straight to the point, he refuses to waste time any longer, choosing his next words carefully before adding to his previous statement. “You’re always so good to me, and you deserved better. I should’ve respected you more.”

The tension in the air is palpable, yet he tries his best to not let it get through him while letting his words flow out— the words he wanted to speak for so long. 

“But it's something had to do with my job before. I’m sure you’re aware of it already, of how dangerous it truly is.”

You remained quiet during the time he spoke, giving him all the time he needed after he took a sip of the drink you had made earlier. No anger is present, but rather, you let his words sink in.

His slate blue eyes would find your own, letting it stay there as you returned his gaze. Claudio wanted you to understand each of what he has said, of how he meant every word.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me in any way, but for the real reason– to keep it simple, I don’t want to potentially put you into danger; the risk from the last one is quite unpredictable.”

You had this one almost unreadable expression plastered across your face; silently contemplating over his words, while your eyes are skeptically glancing at him. Claudio noticed the look you currently gave him, which leads to him eliciting a quiet sigh.

“I mean it; honest.” He sounded way more genuine and truthful at this point; finding no reason to lie to you after what happened between the both of you. “You know how much I cared about your safety, cara.”

The rather endearing nickname slips past his lips without any second thoughts, yet he makes no attempt to take it back. Just one of his old habits; one that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. His words did reach your ears, but somehow, you got distracted by something else almost entirely.

“.. Have you eaten properly lately?” 

The Italian exorcist was caught off guard by your simple statement, remaining silent for a bit as he feels called out. You noticed, after all. Was it that obvious?

“I don’t know– it’s just been rough for me since, well, that day.” He looks almost too ashamed to admit it outright at this moment, but he knew he had no other choice. “I think I haven’t been able to eat properly as of late..”

Claudio suddenly had the sudden urge to tell you everything right from his mind. About how he always tries to keep himself as busy as he could– up to the point of forgetting his daily meals intake, whether it’s unintentional or not. Yet, he refrained from doing so, keeping it all to himself instead.

The guilt you felt at this moment is becoming too real; your eyes appearing to be filled with certain heaviness, though you managed to gather up your next words without any hints of hesitation whatsoever.

“Wait here, I’m gonna prepare something for you.” Before he could even protest, you've already gone to the kitchen. You wouldn’t dare to say that you’re a good cook much, but you’re willing to regardless. It’s like, the least of your worries at this point.

Claudio was taken aback by your actions, to say the least, but some other part of him feels somehow.. Relieved, in a way. He couldn’t help but to wonder; what’s running through your mind right now, and what made you act that way. Nonetheless, it’s somehow leading for a better progress, by the looks of it. 

It feels good to be able to let everything out from his chest– feeling more better than how he truly feels during the past few weeks.

However, his attention was shifted back to you once he heard a wince-- accompanied by strings of cusses under your breath. You've accidentally cut some tiny part of your finger with a knife while you're just trying to slice something.

The male immediately rushes to your side, feeling worried as ever if anything had gone wrong. His gaze instantly landed on your bloodied finger, letting out a faint sigh of concern. "You alright?"

You get startled by his sudden presence being way too close to you, but you simply brush it off.

"It's just a minor cut; a small mistake. I shouldn't be so careless.." Your voice trailed off near the end of your sentence, looking downwards with a somewhat disappointed expression.

"Let me see it." Claudio held his palm open, motioning for you to give out your hand to him. You didn't have any much choice, so you obliged. He began to take a closer look at one of your injured fingers, helping you clean it a bit, before wrapping the small bandage around it carefully. It looked nothing too serious, much to his relief.

"There, all done. Take it easy, okay? Please be careful, next time."

By the time he finished speaking out those words, he realized that you were no longer staring at your now bandaged finger, but rather, at him. So, he returned the silent gaze, not knowing what to do or say next--

-- that is, until he noticed that your eyes are getting teary this time, averting your gaze away quickly from him in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." But what is there to apologize for? He already caught sight of it, now feeling a little more saddened by it himself.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for." He replies in a soft tone, retaining his gentle demeanor as he silently urges you into an embrace. "Mistakes happen, after all."

One of his hands begins to rub your back, in hopes of providing you some sort of comfort. Perhaps, you're still having trouble processing the whole events from the night, and it's starting to gradually overwhelm you.

"I'm sorry, I just.." You missed him. By the time you fall into his embrace, he could tell it so well-- especially when you begin to cling onto him ever so slightly, trying to keep yourself steady.

Claudio tightens his hold around you just a little, silently savoring the moment while still rubbing your back in a comforting manner. You did miss him, after all; just like how he did with you.

He wanted to tell you that he still, very much cares and loves you, but the timing doesn't feel right to him. Maybe sometime, when everything is back to normal and alright between you two once more, he'll finally have the courage to say it.

Just for now, he wanted to relish in your presence-- feeling your warmth alone, and even the scent that you possessed to fill his senses so nicely. God, he misses this; he misses you so dearly.

"I'll help with the cooking, okay?" He spoke in an almost hushed tone, brushing some of your strands of hair behind. Claudio is always the better cook between the two of you-- able to whip something up even with limited time. "I'll do the chopping and all of it, you'll just help me around a bit. Don't want to risk any more injuries on your hand."

You nodded slowly while your head is still buried on his chest, smiling ever so slightly when he finally pressed his lips on your forehead.

hope the ending part isn't too rushed bc i think my brain got fried atp /hj

@luneariaa do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[alwaysonf1]

big leagues?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: Language

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: She has a name now *shrug*

“It shouldn’t take that long to tighten it.”

“It wouldn’t if you’d get off my ass about it.”

There’s a huff, but Iman still sees the feat of the hovering mechanic. The man is impossible. Most of the time she doesn’t have any issues being around him, she even enjoys his company and what he can teach her. Their relationship started when he was one of the people in charge of her during an internship years ago. But he’s incapable of chilling the fuck out during a race weekend.

Iman would also love to have slid under the lifted car, tightened a bolt, and got up so that she can do other pre-practice checks, but the damn thing is stripped. She knows it was the older, know it all mechanic who hates her mere existence because she’d asked him to do it. He was smart enough to complete a simple task, but clearly not since he managed to fuck up three of them and now, she has to check every single one.

It’s tedious and she finds that all the others are fine but can’t bring herself to leave it up to chance. She refuses to risk Alex’s race and more than that potentially his safety. Sometimes it almost feels like she’s the only one who understands why being a little overly cautious in a sport where accidents are par for the course is a good thing.

There is chattering in the garage as everyone prepares, but it’s mostly quiet near the car. Her check has halted any work being done and she knows that some people are annoyed with her - outside of the man currently rushing her - but she doesn’t have it in her to care.

As she goes over the last two bolts, she hears the tapping of a foot and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Ben, stop hovering. I would be done already if someone didn’t strip these things. Maybe talk to him about his fuck up instead of helicopter parenting me making sure nothing else is messed up.”

Her tone is firm but doesn’t lean into disrespect. They have a dynamic where she can speak in a way that may seem like she has a lot of audacity to check a superior from an outside perspective, but she doesn’t use it. Not yet at least. As she looks over the last two, she knows that if he has something to say when she gets up words will fly.

Thankfully, Ben regains some sense and walks away. And in less than a minute she’s up and holding the three bolts she had to change out. She dangles them in the air for all to see and gives a pointed look to Gareth, who has the decency to look ashamed and then looks away from her.

Ben still has a look on his face, but she knows it’s out of stress, so she let it slide. Iman levels a look at him and he sighs and then turns to Gareth, professionally laying into the man while everyone else gets back to work.

The rest of the checks are done within the hour and that’s when the drivers begin to hang around their cars.

“Hope you didn’t break anything on my car. Don’t think I don’t know your plans to help Logan win,” Alex jokes.

Iman rolls her eyes.

“How is that plan coming along by the way? I’m in the points, but this guy is in my way. Need his car a little slower this weekend,” Logan chimes in.

They’re both dorks and Iman is unsure of how she puts up with them. She always thought that Logan was the worst in that department and was so unsure of how close the two drivers were, but if they weren’t bonded before they are now in all the ways they can mess with her. It’s like adding another brother to a roster that is already filled with heathens.

“If I wanted to slow you down, I wouldn’t mess with your car, Ally Cat. And maybe if you weren’t a punk and would just pass your teammate things would be easier for you, Logie Bear.”

Both men cringe at the nicknames. Alex's is a full body shudder and Logan looks like he’s going to throw up. Which brings out Iman’s first smile of the day.

“Now stop bothering me and go warm up.” 

With that she turns on her heel and walks away. Every other mechanic is taking a break so they can give their fool focus in the next thirty minutes, and she plans to do the same. Ben - Chief Mechanic - had her come in earlier than the initial schedule called for and she was starting to feel tired. She’d still have more than enough energy to focus until they wrapped things up, but she didn’t want to lag later. Especially since she’d promised to catch a late lunch with the team and then dinner with some of the drivers.

She takes several steps outside of the garage and takes a deep breath, looking around to see where she should go next. It takes a moment, but after little debate, she pulls off her lanyard, stuffs it in her pocket, and heads toward a fan area. 

“Wait. What way would you do it then?” Alex calls out as she starts walking again.

She says nothing. Doesn’t even look back.

“Iman. What way?” he shouts, sounding desperate. 

Laughter slips free and she makes sure it’s loud enough that he can hear and evil enough that a little fear hits him. Alex knows she would never do anything to fuck him over, but over the last two plus years he has also learned to be a little scared of her. Which was by design on her part, she prefers that people are a little afraid of her. And it’s just fun when it comes to her friends and family.

Her chosen path leads her past most of the garages and she doesn’t spare any of them a single glance. What they’re doing is none of her business. But she makes sure she greets anyone she makes eye contact with or who speaks to her. She’s not rude. At least not if they aren’t. 

Iman is pretty sure that most of them know by now that her mouth is worse than Lewis’; she’ll keep it diplomatic, but she’s less likely to hold back. She’s pretty sure Horner still holds some hurt feelings for some slick shit he tried to say in her presence because she refused to let it slide.

Toto high-fived her after and reminded her that she always has a job with him if she wants it. But she wasn’t going to use that connection just yet.

The last garage she passes is the Ferrari one and she can’t help but look at the driver doing his warmups just outside of it. His back is partly to her so she picks up speed to get out of there, but before she can pass his head snaps in her direction as if he could sense her presence.

Charles’ lips curl into a smile when she meets his eyes and then he winks at her. Iman makes a show of rolling her eyes, says hi to his trainer, and continues walking out of there and into the crowds of people milling around.

Her heart doesn’t calm down until she’s far enough that she knows he can’t see her.

[majycka]

hi quick random question, do you think Kyoto students and utahime especially her dynamic with Gojo could have been utilised a bit better in shibuya because they have potential if they were fleshed out.

what are your thoughts i just feel there could have been potential.

There certainly was a potential anon!

Reading this linkspooky anon ask, she said that the mechamuru traitor plot line could've been fleshed out more to point out the flaws of the school system(which gege isn't really interested in exploring) thus also allowing us to explore the differences between teacher Gojo and Utahime plus their kids. I agree with what the anon and she had to say so imma try to explain it further.

I know canon told us that Utahime was able to figure out the mole via process of elimination but if we were to really to draw out the traitor plot line, I can imagine Utahime, the investigator, digging deeper into the motive on why possible Mechamaru even considered doing it. She's an attentive teacher afterall so I wouldn't doubt she probably cares about why her kid ends up like that. In this way, we get to see the differences between how Gojo and Utahime treat their kids as well as how the school system using these kids as child soldiers affects them. Through this way, we get to see Gojo and Utahime interact more. I’d dare say that Utahime will probably call out the way how absent and “sink-or-swim” Gojo’s ways of teaching are. I mean, it does work for his students, but sometimes he ignores a crucial and obvious part that they are STILL kids.

That’s the whole point of Nanami’s care for Yuuji who’s originally under Gojo’s wing, and how Yuuji expressed that it’s Nanami underestimating his skills when in fact, Yuuji is STILL a child, and Nanami, as the adult, has to protect him.

Gojo is not too aware of this fact that they ARE still child soldiers because he is raised in the same system afterall. However, with Utahime’s caring, and doesn’t-take-any-bullshit-from-Gojo personality, there’s no doubt she’ll call the fuck out of him. 

Moving on to the actual students themselves, I actually like how Gege kept the Kyoto kids lowkey in this arc and when they showed up, they were a team (even Todo included with his help with Yuuji). I'd like it more if we were shown how the Kyoto kids navigated the culling game arc because the game could have forced Kyoto plus Tokyo to cooperate with each other. Maybe even under Utahime's wing because most of the adults got nerfed in Shibuya. Also, Kyoto kids offer the weaker pov things in the series, and I'm all out for underdog characters. There’s just lots of inner conflict going on when you’re in a world who favors the strong while the weak gets hammered down. 

Moreover, another thematic potential I can think for the kyoto-tokyo dynamic is sharing comradery on entering adulthood. This is somehow shown with Kamo & Maki vs Naoya fight, and imo, this fight is a good CANON example that "at the very verryyy least"  fulfilled the potential of the Kyoto-Tokyo dynamic.

More yapping under the cut cuz this is actually one of my fav fights in CG arc >.<

The goodwill event shows the battling philosophies of the schools, however it also shows how complementary they are..Kyoto wants to be understood in a lashing out way but Tokyo merely responded with callousness to it and has the "who cares what others think" mindset.

Nobara and Momo fight on misogyny

Mechamaru expressing his disability with panda

Megumi vs Kamo "We are the same"

Maki and Mai "why didn't you left the Zenin clan"

I mean Tokyo ain't wrong about their individualistic mindset but at the same time, it just sounded unsympathetic especially when all those kids are all in the SAME boat being child soldiers under the jjk ruthless system. Kyoto kids unhealthily lashes out but they aren't wrong about it either cuz it's a reality that they suffer a lot from this system. These openness of Kyoto Tech however did make them closer like mutamiwa and kyoto girls (mai, miwa, momo).

Overall, Tokyo needed the Kyoto comrade nature while at the same time Kyoto needed the independence of Tokyo kids and in that kamo-maki vs Naoya fight, it showed us how these philosophies made a great working teamwork for them...

Recap to that fight, Naoya shows up as a cursed spirit and boom maki has to deal with it now luckily Kamo is there to help. With the help of Kamo's teamwork, Maki was bought some time to recover (deal with those samurai and sumo duo) and boom defeat him. 

Kamo sympathised with Maki’s situation after the fight. Even back in the fight with Megumi, Kamo seems to be one trying to seek understanding from kids under the big clans because he kinda understands the pressure they are under. Despite barely interacting on screen, it's no wonder 100% Kamo backed up Maki. Moreover, what makes this fight pair up fulfilling is the parallels they have despite being different ends of the spectrum. They even opened up about their family problems, and this is coming from Maki who tends to keep to herself.

"Don’t fall in the same rut."

Maki opens up and give advice in communicating more to their family because Maki regretted not doing the same for their mom, and we cut to throwback of the Kamo’s mom was that she named him Noritoshi just to spite the Kamo clan.

I've seen criticism about this part. It's pretty shitty the mom named her kid practically Hitler,  abandoned the same kid, and expects the kid himself to come back, and I agree with the criticism. However, looking at it from a different angle, it's shown at the same time that jjk is a coming of age series, kids growing into adulthood aka shouldering the shit that adults have failed to do...

Adults can be shit at doing their job to their kids like what Kamo's mom did to Noritoshi. Like c'mon mom! you could have done your job as an adult and be the one to approach your kid or pull him out of the clan situation but no. Sometimes the Reality is fully accepting that parents are shitty sometimes and the kid of the situation has to push themselves to be mature and take over the adult's work, and as for Kamo, that is having to be the one to find his mother to find closure and from then on, he will be the one to decide what will be next.

[jeankluv]

Hey you may not see this and I’m sorry for saying all this but we need to stop babying gojo because he us a grown a man that hasn’t even been through that much compared to other characters in the series.

A lot of people see him as human not just geto and it feels like he had so much potential to make a lot of good friends but he messed it up his own self because he is annoying and doesn’t respect personal space and people say his life is cruel but it really isn’t because first of all his rich and grown up different from I lot if the other characters.

Like the only way thing he went through was geto “leaving him” and that’s just not true there was never a conversation about gojo going with him or anything like that geto did not leave him alone because he had other people around hat was he school and if he was really lonely like people say he is then he would have try to be nice and normal with people so then they would actually like him.

Plus he’s not the strongest and people keep filling his head with pride and praise even though after high school he really stopped fight curses and just making the students do and he thought he could just beat sukuna the king of fucking curses like what?? People have filled his head with so much nonsense that he think he’s the strongest and he both can beat him even he lost and died

I don’t know maybe just leave Gojo stans feel however they want about THEIR favorite character. Let them baby him, let them cry for him and let them say whatever they want.

Saying that the only thing he went through is “Geto leaving him” when he was literally killed and mutilated by Toji when he was 16, causing on him a tremendous trauma that he went and destroyed the inverted spear of heaven (so what happened with toji would not happen again). And put himself on constant training, so he could perfection his techniques.

Also last chapter was a clear example of how they dehumanized his character was. The only two characters that clearly said that it wasn’t right or showed a bit of discomfort were Kusakabe and Yuta.

Excuse us for feeling discomfort, angry and saying that Gojo was used as a mere weapon since his birth from the beginning. He was born and there was already a price on his head and assassins trying to kill him because of his power. Geto even mentions how the higher-ups started sending Gojo on all the missions when he was only 17.

He didn’t stop fighting curses after graduating, he still fought curses after it. It has been said by Gege himself that that Gojo took Megumi with him on some missions so he could see what things were like. When Yuji is killed at the beginning, Gojo had been sent on a mission far away, so that he could not intervene.

About the last part did you decide to skip shibuya arc and totally forget how Gojo fought 4 special grades (killed one of them) on his own?

Gojo was the strongest of the modern era and that’s a fact. Sukuna also needed the help of other two to harm him.. No one filled his head with nonsense bc it was true, he was the strongest.

Once again leave Gojo stans feel however they like about their favorite character and say whatever they want.

[thegamingcatmom]

Hey its the anon who got intrigued about miranda

Slowly making way through watching RE7

(Also dived in head first to just reading fanfiction, not sure if that's the right call)

(Still know very little besides like second hand info from fanfics/fan content)

Thoughts/questions on Miri the tired studhorse that came to mind randomly:

Now that MM is locked on to MC

Will she stop seeing the village girls in her chase for MC? Or with how MC is with wanting to very much nope the heck out of there, will she continue on with the village girls but still pursue MC for her use?

(Like in the off chance that MC doesn't work she's still gonna continue on doing what she do)

God it kinda gives fuckboy falls in love with one girl who knows Fboy's reputation and doesn't want any part of it

But instead it's Miri has found her perfect vessel in MC who would rather not be anywhere near her.

And then thoughts went:

MM finally has chance with MC, potential seed had taken place

MM learned how to talk/flirt with MC (made MC feel like the one or whatever)

MC falls for MM (idk if MC would fall for MM but if she does)

And then it turned sad:

But MC hears words out of context, or finds out MM still using the other Village girls (could be MM stopped after a bit cause idk genuine feelings she won't acknowledge for MC, idk if this is a MM falls for MC type thought)

(or literally village girl comes to door, MC sees from a distance the girl flirting and MM doesn't do anything so assumptions are made)

MC gets heartbroken

Somehow escapes

MC was the successful vessel for Eva but since she ran well idk Eva grows up far away and MM tries finding MC

Or

Sad

MM still tries with villagers unknown to her, her daughter who's back

(Again idk if MC could even escape or if possible)

So yeah, now my brain is kind of stuck on what ifs for miri the tired studhorse

Hey there!

Are you now? We love to hear it!

Marguerite sure does. 🕷️

How are you liking it so far? ^^

As for going straight to fanfiction: absolutely valid. I mean, there isn´t exactly a "right" or "wrong" here, really. As long as you´re having a good time, that´s all that matters. Besides, there´s lots to learn from fanfics as well when you´re looking to dive deeper into the lore of it all.

.

Now...

(I fucking love that shot of her, can yall tell?)

To say I am most pleased about this recent development (as in: Miri the Tired Studhorse seemingly haunting your waking hours) would be a severe understatement. Mission accomplished.

OKAY LISTEN-

I love your thoughts. Also because I´ve been thinking about the exact same thing. And, yknow, I think Miranda would defo continue her...affairs with those village girls. At least until she´s worked her charm so thoroughly that MC´s gonna spread those legs at the mere sight of her-

...Which means she´s gonna continue banging the village girls for quite a while, LMAO. And not necessarily because she´s trying to create Eva 2.0. No...

Listen, that woman is frustrated. AF. Like, imagine finally finding that perfect vessel, you´re SO sure of it that just being near them makes you struggle. You wanna jump their bones so badly cause you just know it´s gonna work this time, it´s meant to be. Like, Miranda firmly believes MC showing up in her village is fate or some shit, it´s gotta be, right?? MC was meant for her and only her, so that she may be filled with divine purpose that will bring forth divinity in return-

...In other words: Those village girls go from being her specimens to being her outlet cause MC wants no part of whatever-the-fuck is wrong with that village and its residents. Our girl´s gonna drive Miri nuts and someone has to pay the price. (I have a feeling it will be paid rather willingly though, thirsty bunch that they are, lmao. They´re all of us, basically.)

Miranda has to work for that one and that´s something our Birb Momma just...it just doesn´t make sense to her, yknow?? Because she is quite used to them ladies spreading their legs at the mere sight of her, tyvm.

So, to answer this part here:

...will she continue on with the village girls but still pursue MC for her use?

(Like in the off chance that MC doesn't work she's still gonna continue on doing what she do)

Yes, to all of that. But it´s more that MM´s entirely convinced MC´s the one, so the village ladies will serve as a...distraction until MC comes around basically. (I almost feel a tad bit sorry for Birb Mama. Almost.)

.

God it kinda gives fuckboy falls in love with one girl who knows Fboy's reputation and doesn't want any part of it

That´s maybe kinda perhaps exactly what this is, lmao.

(And, honestly? It sounds sexy af.)

LISTEN-

Like I said, Miri isn´t used to someone like MC. Meaning: Someone who rejects her. Like-

Excuse?

Perhaps that´s exactly why Miranda believes it´s meant to be, lol. Cause, yknow, Miranda´s a woman who seeks answers. If she doesn´t have them, she´s gonna work herself to death until she does. (I mean, have you seen that woman´s lab? There´s papers and jars scattered everywhere. She´s a messy nerd and that´s so damn sexy.)

...OR: She just goes ahead and puts her own spin on it (which sounds very likely cause bish is crazy af). Miranda seeks an explanation for MC´s sudden appearance in the village, so she promptly decides that, yes-

Surely, this must be it. Her perfect vessel. Why else should an outsider make it into the village in the first place? Why would her power (aka her charms, lol) decide to leave her right when this...innnteresting specimen enters her village? How can Miranda not see it as a sign she´s meant to pursue this newcomer? It is meant to be-

...This gif makes about as much sense here as Miranda´s train of thought, so that should tell you quite a bit about her, lel.

.

As for everything else you´ve said:

Right off the bat: If MM doesn´t want someone to leave the village, they won´t. She´ll find ways to prevent it, I´m sure...

With that said: I really like your thoughts on that, but MC leaving the village only for her/their daughter to come back and meet Miranda is highly unlikely to me. There´s no way Miranda would ever let MC leave if she believes there´s even the slightest bit of a chance to get her Eva back. So, once MC´s in, she´s not gonna get out again. Period.

...At least not until the bun´s out of the oven, if yknow what I mean. After that? Hm...we´ll see. 😏

.

.

I can defo see Miranda trying to make MC believe she harbors actual feelings for her, similar to how she made the village girls believe they´re serving a "divine purpose". (I mean, it´s not entirely a lie, if one was to ask Miranda...) Whether that´s gonna work out for her remains to be seen...

(I have my doubts, lol.)

The scenario with one of the village girls coming at Miranda like "Sooo...you wanna yknow what orrr...? *wink wink*" is also something I can defo see happening. It´s actually kinda hilarious to imagine because, in my head, MC´s probs gonna be either

pissed af and she´ll just straight up slap Miranda across the face before storming away all huffy and puffy, OR-

MC just...doesn´t care. At all.

Both cases include a Miranda who´s just this mix of "you DARE" and "wait what". Like, that woman´s not used to ANY of it - whether it´s getting slapped or being ignored.

In fact, Miranda isn´t quite sure which of those two she finds more insulting. 😤

.

As for MM falling for MC: That´s kinda the plan...I think, yes. Much, much, much further down the line.

But, seeing how it´s Mother Miranda we´re talking about, you can bet your ass nothing about that "plan" will be even remotely sane, lel. When that woman commits herself to something (or someone), she´ll do it in the most dramatic and obsessive of ways. She'll let it consume her to the point where it overshadows everything else. Anyone who crosses her path better prove their worth (likely by becoming Miri´s eyes and ears when it comes to MC), or they´ll get crushed beneath her foot like the ant she believes them to be.

...On the plus side:

Miranda is nothing if not devoted. ;3

.

.

.

FINALLY some spotlight for our fav Birb Momma! Miri deserves a lot more attention and recognition than she´s getting. Honestly, how´s there not...more? Just more?? 😤

(I think Lady D might be to blame for that, lol. She did always strive to become the favorite...)

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[eldritch-spouse]

I hope you see the Pin, cause I'm invested.

If we were trapped in lust, how about we become an Oiran to survive? 

Quasi Oiran, so to speak, since I wouldn't be on Oiran traditionally but moreso in spirit. 

Now a few things to note about Oirans (the Apothecary Diaries did a very good job at explaining this, so I'll use that): Unlike regular Yujyos (prostitutes) who need to find a customer every night, the best of them rarely ever take clients. The less an Oiran (a high-ranking yujyo) works, the higher her perceived value will be. All Yujyo are taught a bit about poetry and dancing at a young age; those without potential are immediately put to night service work after their debut, while those with potential continue with their education, spending their time with customers merely drinking tea. As their conventional skills and wisdom increase, so does their price, and they will accept requests even more rarely. Eventually, it comes to a cost a year's worth of salary to just share nothing but a cup of tea with such an Orian. Among them are even a few who would never come to know a customer's touch up until the day they are bought. They're priced so highly because they're an untouchable flower; once plucked, they lose half their value.

Some stuff would probably need to be tweaked in order for this to work, but here is a route I think could be taken.

So you land in lust! (Preferably as a virgin cause that can be used later.) Like a rational person, you start hauling ass as soon as you can gather yourself cause you don't want to be snu-snu-ed to death. Hopefully you can stumble across a nice enough high-ranker who would be willing to help you out—for a price, of course. Now, this could depend on the high-ranker because if they don't immediately take our virginity, we could sell it for a high price because in the Pinnie universe, a human's virginity is like ambrosia, but I don't really see that happening since who would pass up the opportunity, you know? But anyway, in return for their protection, we could make a deal to bring in three times the amount they bring in a year. There are many human fuckers to pick and choose from, so it wouldn't be too hard to get the bag. Before we make our debut, we should train in the arts like Yujyo do. We could use dance or singing for normal customers, and for customers with a taste for finer things, we could use poetry, calligraphy (you see what I did there 😏) and aktpainting, which is the painting of nude people. But of course I'll have sex with my customers so they keep coming back, I'll just try to engage with them in thay way sparingly so that they can become addicted. After we make our debut, hopefully we can make enough money to hire some wrath demon bodyguards, and then we can truly make our way up the ranks to become an Oiran because we may have our pimp, but I don't think they can hold our hand and protect us all the time. If a customer is being too pushy, we can just call in our guards to have their ass booted 🤷🏽‍♀️. It's very likely that our guards and pimp will become obsessed with us but if we were smart enough to make it thus far it will be no trouble to play demon wrangler. And if by a slim pubic hair of a chance we can get an angel to keep all of them in check, we would be set for life.

So that's it!

The reason I think it would be a good idea to become an Oiran is because, let's be honest, in lust where it's all about fucking, we wouldn't be too popular to make someone believe we're trying to out-whore them but popular enough to get that sweet, sweet money. Another reason why I thought it could work is because Concubi place an importance on virginity. I'm not sure if it applies to how many times you slept with someone, but by being a 'flower' and a human at the same time it could attract a lot of customers, so why not use it?

(I hope all of this made sense since I'm not a native speaker)

[It sort of made sense. I don't know much about the nuance of these cultures, so I'm not going to dip into that side too much.]

Making it in Lust is hard, especially as a virgin. Even if someone with a modicum of power takes enough pity on you to offer you a leg up, there's always the risk of it going downhill. It depends on your luck, cleverness and, oftentimes, ruthlessness.

Someone similar to an oiran, in Lust, would have a difficult time.

Even if there are many concubi (and other types of fiends/non-demonic inhabitants) who get into the mysticism and attributed rarity of a female companion like that, getting off endlessly on that temptation to leap across the table while the two of you have a conversation over tea... There are also many crowds eager to debase and "corrupt" you, to turn you into a senseless whore like themselves.

You're never truly safe either way. Some of your regulars may become eerily attached and possessive of you, maybe even threatening to toss you out to the demons who give you leery stares as you walk because you refuse to see them more often or to touch them.

Keep in mind that blueballing a concubus isn't really a good idea, unless they make it clear they're into that. Because otherwise, you're holding a steak to a lion's mouth and constantly yanking it away before they can snag it. Eventually, they'll get tired and bite some of your fingers off along with it.

Your life in Lust will be one led with extreme caution.

[moriartyluver]

ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER IV

"AND THEN I LOOKED AT HIS FACE," (Name) laughed as she sat with her fellow band mates during a 10 minute break, holding a cup of god knows what as she tried to stay awake. "and he was all like, in this posh ass voice, 'That's a lovely name'" she said, mimicking an upper class accent "Like he looked so fucking stunned! But it was cute, like I could've kissed him right there and be satisfied!" 

James laughed, hand smacking his knee as if she said the funniest thing in the world "Who would have thought our (name) was into rich pricks?!" 

"Yeah, well I'll probably never see his Tory ass again," she took a sip from her cup, "I tried asking Herder and he was talking about some other rich guy  who just so happened to be the brother of the potential manager I bumped into." 

"I thought rich people were meant to have uncommon names," John said in confusion "You know, like Bartholomew" 

That's particular line had James cackling even harder. 

"Not like you can say shit, John," Sherlock laughed, smacking John's back. 

"Oh but you can, Sherlock?" (Name) teased, dropping her paper cup on the floor 

"HAHAHAGAHHA" 

"Hey, um, if you guys are ready, we have a couple more songs left for you to play," The older sister from earlier said, tapping (Name)'s shoulder. 

She sighed, reluctantly getting back up to go to the band's equipment. "What song are we doing..?" She slurred 

"Uhh..we did Teddy Picker last, and Crying Lighting before, so I think this one's Arabella," John, possibly the only sober one, suggested 

"Looks like someone dressed the part," Sherlock said, eyeing (Name) up and down as he picked up his guitar. 

She rolled her eyes, following suit with her own red guitar "At least I can dress myself." 

"Or maybe you're just an attention whore." 

"Or maybe I have to look put together because I'm the only girl," She said, positioning herself near the mic. "But even if I was a boy, I'd still be the hot one." 

"Who said you were the hot one?" James chimed in, quite offended 

John gave an exasperated sigh. "Can you all get it together, please?" 

(Name) groaned as John tapped his drumsticks together, strumming at her guitar as the beat started to form itself, her red lips parted as she sang the first verse whilst the sweaty crowd of teenagers in front of them sang along. 

By the end of the second chorus, (Name)'s voice had grown sore and rough, partially due to her attempts to sing over the noise surrounding her and also so she wouldn't piss off the birthday girl's bitchy older sister (she had a grudge against her after she told (Name) to sing louder and be more 'engaging' following the first song. Apparently she wanted to get her daddy's moneys worth, but it wasn’t her fault that these kids didn’t know how to sing) 

"That's magic," (Name) sang, her tired fingers gliding over the strings

"In a cheetah print coat!” 

“Just a slip,” 

“Underneath it I hope!!”

“Asking if,” she paused as she held out her mic, waiting for the brain dead rich kids to finish the line. Of course, they only knew the first part..she should have known. 

“..I can have one of those,” James finished, eyeing (Name) as if to apologise for getting them such a dead gig. “Organic..” 

“Cigarettes that she smokes,” She rolled her eyes again for what seemed to be the a thousandth time that day 

“Wraps her lips,”  Sherlock joined in reluctantly whilst the rest of the noise were mere mumbles of the kids trying to keep up regardless of their embarrassment. He could’ve sworn he saw a few lines of coke on some tables in the back, whilst some girls snorted them with paper straws. Hey, they may be rotting their brains but at least they have a fuck about the environment! 

“Round the Mexican coke,” (name) placed her mic back in its stand, preparing herself for guitar solo. “Makes you wish you were the bottle.” 

“Takes a sip of your soul and it sounds like..”  

Oh so now they know the words, (Name) thought, her fingers gliding over the strings, trying not to make any mistakes with all the numbness in her fingertips. Even as someone who hadn’t been playing long, her talent was evident throughout the momentary performance, and she had surprisingly managed to multi task and maintain her stage presence for once. The sound echoed through the unnecessarily large room. As much as she loved the electrifying feeling, god was this giving her a headache..or maybe it was the mysterious substance from that cup she had drank from earlier..or the unmistakable smell of weed. 

Hell, by the end of the solo, she had a terrible ringing in her ear. She rubbed at her ears mercilessly, trying to reduce the pain. On top of that, she felt so damn warm, but she didn’t want to take off her jacket because that was the only thing keeping her outfit from looking a complete mess. 

Sensing her discomfort, Sherlock tossed her a water bottle, for the purpose of both sobering her up and also cooling her down. (Name), who was currently lacking in any common sense, uncapped the bottle and splashed it on her face. Hilariously, only half the water seemed to have entered her mouth at all. She could feel her mascara dripping down her cheeks to add to her messy appearance, which could only slay so hard before looking disturbing. 

“Uhh..do you lot want another one..?” (Name) spoke into the mic as she crouched down on the makeshift stage, her voice raspy. “Because if we do, I don’t think it’ll be fair on us if you shitheads don’t know the lyrics.” 

She couldn’t exactly make out what anyone was saying, but hesitantly got up, hands on the neck of her guitar. “I’ll take that as a yes, you stinky motherfuckers.” She laughed, ignoring the piercing glare from the weird girl who kept dictating what they were doing. 

Poor (name) had only managed to get to the end of the second verse before the ringing in her ears had turned into sirens and all of a sudden, the cops had been called. 

“F-flashing of digital cameras, from tourists in Trafalgar Square-“ (Name) paused, looking around the empty room with blurred vision, trying to convince herself she was hallucinating as she heard Sherlock calling out to her in such a disoriented state “Cigarette smoke uhh, watching a stripper and snortin’ some coke off her thighs.” 

“Dammit (Name)! You’re not even getting the lyrics right!” Sherlock grabbed her shoulder “hurry up before you get us all arrested, you idiot!” 

“Arrested?” She repeated, turning to the windows to see blue siren lights and a few cop cars surrounding the entrance to the mansion 

“Yes arrested!” Sherly affirmed, trying to pack up his equipment 

John stood up, intervening. “Shouldn’t we just stick around and explain what happened to the police? They’ll understand. We are innocent after all.” 

“Oh hell no,” James exclaimed, fumbling to get his bass guitar. “If the cops get to me, my ass is getting deported.” 

“Nah, you’re white, you’ll be fine.” (Name) laughed weakly before widening her eyes “oh wait never mind, you are kind of an illegal..especially with the whole, Yknow.” 

“Which is why we should fucking leave!” Sherlock yelled, shaking (Name)’s droopy frame as he held her shoulders “we’re all too broke to afford a good lawyer!”

Before they could run off through one of the many shattered windows, they heard a deep cockney voice from behind them. 

“Hands up, kids. You don’t wanna make this any more difficult than it should be.” He said, stifling a yawn. “I mean, the fuck are you lot even doing this late? It’s 11 bloody PM.” 

“Listen, you old geezer- ” (Name) started, but stopped as John pinched her shoulder, prompting her to shut her mouth. “Nevermind.” She groaned, raising her arms whilst the rest of the band did the same. 

“Listen,” a now sober (Name) hissed as they entered the police station. “If they ask for you to call someone to bail you out, don’t call anyone who would get mad, aight? I have a plan.” 

“Oh so you have a plan now?” Sherlock asked sarcastically. 

“Why you giving me attitude? It’s James who got us the gig.” (Name) whispered angrily. “You didn’t tell us the kids were gonna be that unhinged! Where the hell did you even get this gig..?” She turned to James. 

“Uh..well I-“ James tried to defend himself as he was being dragged away to a cell whilst (Name) widened her eyes 

“Don’t tell me you- How could you James!” She yelled “You can’t book us a gig with a girl you used to fuck and expect your little ex to not try to set us up somehow!” 

“She wasn’t setting us up! It was just a coincidence that the police turned up!” The blond explained 

(Name) struggled against the handcuffs, whining about how tight they were. “How do you know she didn’t call the cops on us just to save her ass and not get her and her weird sister blamed by their parents?!” 

“Because she thinks I’m hot! She wouldn’t call the cops on a guy she finds fit!” James raised his voice, only to get yelled at by another horizontally challenged policeman. 

“Mum’s gonna kill me.” Sherlock muttered to himself “Thanks a lot, losers.” 

“Wake up, sweetheart.” A gruff voice called out from the outside (Name)’s cell. 

She rubbed at her eyes, grumbling in annoyance as she stained her hands with black mascara and eyeliner. “How long have I been here?” She asked as she sat up on the hard bench “feels like fucking ages..” 

“About..” The bald man checked his dirty primark watch “Uhh..40 minutes..?” 

(Name) blinked in disbelief “Someone up there hates me..” she mumbled. “What do you want?” 

“Hey, I’m the policeman here, kid.” He retorted “You need to call someone to bail you out, but knowing girls like you, I doubt your parents are around..” 

“I really wish I could prove your sexiest statement wrong, but you’re right. My parents are in Wales for God knows why..” she sighed, hands in her pockets. She felt a little slip of card against her fingertips and reached out her hand to see what it was. She narrowed her eyes as she attempted to read the text “A-Albert J..Mori..Moriarty..?” 

(Name) furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall where she had got this business card from. Realisation hit her like a truck. 

That guy. 

“I thought this was in my other jacket..?” She whispered “What kinda plot armour is this?” 

“You gonna give us a number, love?” The policeman asked 

The guitarist nodded “Crazy coincidence, but I have this little thing.” She waved the paper at him. “Thank god for that, I don’t even know my mother’s phone number anymore.” 

“Yeah whatever,” he opened the cell, guiding (Name) to a telephone on a wall. 

She dialled the numbers, eyes flickering from the keypad to the card as she tried to recite what she planned on saying in her head. She was calling a businessman who was probably working or something right now, for crying out loud. He probably wouldn’t even remember her face, let alone her voice.

Ring Ring 

Surprisingly, Albert picked up before the third ring. “Hello?” His groggy yet posh voice spoke from the other end. 

“Hey..um..you probably don’t remember me, I mean why would you, but like-“ she took a deep breath, fidgeting with the telephone wire “I got arrested, and I kinda need someone to pick me and my friends up..God I’m so stupid. I’m that girl-“ 

“From the cafe?” He asked 

(Name) raised an eyebrow “Y-yeah!” She stammered “How’d you remember?” 

She heard him chuckle “I’m not that much of a forgetful person when it comes to important encounters. What police station is it?” He asked 

She looked over to a sign near the front desk, where she had revoked her possessions earlier. “Umm..Buckinghamshire Heights police station..? I think so anyways..” she still couldn’t believe her luck, she was seriously about to get bailed out of jail by a rich guy. 

“Perfect. I’m actually quite close to there. Allow me about half an hour and I’ll be there.” He said, ready to hang up “farewell until then, (Name).” 

“Bye- wait how the fuck did you remember my name..?!”

A/N: omg guys I’m at 505 followers 😨😨 give me ideas for a special I can do because I’m too lazy to do it myself 😞 anyways thank you pookies 🫶

[starlit1daydream]

CLASSPECTING YELLOW GUY: DHMIS and the aspect of Light

Well, Yellow won the poll I put out a few days ago, and I have a very clear idea of what I see in him (fitting, given his title) so I'll detail my thoughts down below. This is all my personal analysis, you're free to come to any different conclusion, Classpecting is subjective even if some answers are clearer than others.

Yellow Guy. David, Doi, Manny, whatever debatably official/completely unofficial name you want to refer to him by, he's arguably the most important character to Don't Hug Me I'm Scared. Some may argue that Red Guy takes on the role of protagonist in the sense that he moves forward the narrative, but Yellow is the one it centres around. The whole show is, from an in-universe perspective, built around him.

This is going to go over mostly his role in the TV series, but include some aspects from the web series.

I think Yellow is a Page of Light.

He begins as a simpleton, struggling to grasp the most basic knowledge and very much filling the role of the team idiot. Despite this, however, he's always filled with this inherent curiosity and desire to learn things. He's the integral student, seeking to understand Light even though he so fundamentally lacks it.

This is, of course, a dead ringer for a Page of Light. Yellow is incredibly deficient with his Aspect, but nonetheless it's still an integral part of his life and how he leads it - like Tavros with Breath, Jake with Hope and Horuss with Void.

Naturally, the Page holds great potential to understand their Aspect and share it out and lead through it once they fully comprehend how to use it. Yellow's moment of understanding, that 'lightbulb' moment if you will is when his batteries are restored.

Suddenly, he's unlocked that potential with Light. It's... equivalent to God Tiering, let's say. But he's not a master. The Page has a far longer road to walk than that. He's merely beginning to comprehend Light, his relationship with it and his search for it. Not only that, he's willing to share it; he ends up schooling one of the teachers, after all!

Naturally, the world has it out for him. The Page, to put it bluntly, is the narrative joke. Hussie did not like any of the characters he made Pages. Tavros is portrayed as a softie, a crybaby and the punchline of some very ableist jokes by the fandom, Jake is called 'jape' or 'joke' more than his actual name by Vriska, and Horuss is a thinly veiled and very tasteless parody of therians and systems.

Naturally, Yellow follows this pattern of being fucked around by the narrative, just in a way that makes more sense in-universe beyond 'the author's being a dick'. Yellow is the narrative plaything. Knowledge is constantly distorted or withheld from him, he's surrounded by Void given to him by other people (Roy is most definitely a player of Void) and thus those brief sparks of Light, those points of data and precise moments that makes up the aspect, they're very few and far between.

The house's upper floors represent his quest for knowledge and relevance. He steps closer and closer to the truth, every higher floor is another tier of knowledge reached. He's growing to understand that Aspect, confronted with false understandings of Light and pushing them away. Like any Light-bound, he wants the truth, he wants that linear point of data that gives him clarity.

But, as the Page, the narrative plaything, Lesley and Roy's toy to torture and play with as they see fit... he doesn't get it. He has the answers held in front of his face, and then all of that development is reversed. Amusingly, this seems to mirror certain arcs at the end of Homestuck, but I digress.

Yellow fails his quest, but not of his own volition, and we'll see if the TV series drops a new season (9 days away, people!) whether or not we'll see him ever fully realise the truth.

Next up, Red Guy as a Breath-bound and Duck as a Doom-bound.

[wri0thesley]

nat…….. your brain…………………… i am losing my mind

i know we know shit and also fuck about him, but. wriothesley arranged marriage where he's never been particularly interested in politics, but for one reason or another it's advantageous and gets people off his back (or something) so-- fine. sure. it's not like he has to do anything more than share quarters with you, he can endure.

meanwhile, you'd assumed you'd never marry; you're not shaped like they are in fashion prints, maybe you're a bit on the older side-- it just never really seemed like an option, and then suddenly it's happening all at once, and you're traded like a chesspiece for someone else's advantage.

the awkwardness on both sides. the adjustment to living in (or near, I presume???????) an (underwater???) fortress-prison. the slow realization that oh. perhaps. he is not quite so severe as he seems. perhaps your privileged life has been more of a cage than a nest. navigating around the clear boundaries set when you didn't know each other and this was a marriage in name alone-- but now maybe you DO want to start to know each other, and there are all these walls to tear down.

the terminus of this thought that's driving me into a frenzy is the idea of wriothesley choosing to court them, to do all the things a potential suitor should have done-- for the person he's been married to for like a year-- because he realizes he DOES care for them, he DOES maybe even love them. it may be all backwards from how things should have happened-- but it's never too late, and even if he's making a bit of a fool of himself, they're worth it.

tumblr user glazemedaka comes in with an arrow to the heart. OH. arranged marriage that he truly expected to just be convenient; people will stop pawing at him, leave him to his work, and he was promised you were utterly obedient and would not infringe upon him. perhaps you even have some skillset useful down there, in the underwater fortress of a prison. the two of you don't even share a bed, and gossip travels fast in a place like this, so of course everybody knows that the two of you have probably not even consumnated this sham of an arranged marriage--

only for him to begin to notice you. you may not love your husband (yet), you may too understand this is merely to keep the hounds at bay (a duke, you see - monsieur wriothesley, his grace, an esteemed husband for any society member wishing to get a leg up in things) - but you see no reason to hate him, so you care for him in spousal duties as you can. learn his preferences, his favourite meals, his favourite scents and how he likes things to be around the living quarters. his favourite books, things he may like to discuss - and he realises with a start, when you are not there on evening, how much he has come to depend on your companionship. how much he misses you when you're gone. how much he likes you--

how much he wants you.

[bookishjules]

thought dump for the midnight heir?? I feel like we’ve both been swept into a resurgence. I’ve got my own opinions but you seem to see a lot of the symbolism etc which I do love! But talk about anything, I’m just hungry for perspectives!

(idk how many original thoughts i have for you, so i'm just gonna go off and hope something lands lol)

one thing that's always been really intriguing to me is how the pure love that persists between tessa, will, and jem, can sour and become something sick from james' perception, that he would use his resentment of that love and as a measure for the damning pain he's in and thus an impetus to be intentionally careless with his life. while on the other hand, we have jesse who, according to tatiana, held onto life for his own mother, a mother who may have loved him but who would have taught only hatred and vengeance, of the wrongs that the world committed toward their family. it's almost like james' heart was pumped so full of love that it burst and splayed open only for grace to step into it and sew it back up around herself, a blade making the heart bleed from the inside. and jesse's heart was filled with a poison, toxic kind of love that eroded the organ, making the walls frail, but forcing a level of strength and dexterity into his blood, and thereby into grace as well, whom he welcomed to live inside his heart and draw from his yearning as well.

it's the way they all intertwine. the way the two boys parallel eachother, like james is the one who came through the looking glass and jesse is the one caught behind it. james shot down the chandelier and there was glass on the floor of blackthorn hall when magnus entered it. james with his cheshire cat grin and jesse's deathly portrait. james leaping back and forth into existence while jesse stands delicately on the line.

speaking of that leaping.. tmh james uses his shadows with such flippancy and control, like they're as much a part of him as his corporeal form. "we are dust and shadows," he reminds magnus. and i think it's so interesting, like in a biblical sense, dust is as much life as it is death ("from dust you were made and to dust you shall return"), and shadows move as one with the one they're tied to, but they are not really alive. so james is a shadow but one with its own mind and will, like peter pan's shadow. he doesn't bow to the essence and laws of life and dust. but then where is the dust? again, speaking to the parallels.. i think it could be jesse. he is not really dead, but not really alive, either, he exists as merely the imprint of the boy he once was was on the earth, with as much potential to be blown away by the wind as he has to be filled in with dust mixed with water and blood like cement making him whole again.

i mentioned peter pan's shadow, and that made me think that maybe jesse, in that case, would be peter himself, caught up in neverland, never growing up, unable to leave without dust that's given life in the form of pixie dust.

it's so interesting to think of how these two would eventually meet in the canon of tmh, because i do think tatiana would still find a way to kill five shadowhunters to bring him back to life. and if they return to idris, and if james fulfills his goal of being sent back to idris by being a rapscallion and harming mundanes instead of protecting them, they're bound to wind up in the same space together. it would be interesting if, in james' infatuation with grace, he takes up a shield behind her while she acts as her mother's blade, if he learns of the plans to raise jesse, and because of his fucked up sense of love and loyalty and the potential of a spell put on him by grace, he aids her in someway. james' wild ferocity tied down at jesse's feet by grace. peter and his shadow.

[ladyantiheroine]

What I Didn’t Say

Summary: Renfield tries to protect Y/N, but things get complicated.

Pairing: Renfield x fem!reader

Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt

—————————————————————————

How much longer are going to let this go on, Renfield?

The immortal assistant was seated at cafe across from Y/N, a girl he’d met at a support meeting. She was new in town, new to the group, and Renfield had been entranced by her since they met. Beautiful, intelligent, kind. Not the kind of woman that Renfield expected to be interested in him. 

And yet, she’d invited him out to coffee after their frist group meeting together. Since then, it became their ritual each week. They always ordered the same drinks, sat at the same table beneath the autumn tree by the street.

From the first day, after she told her story to the group, Renfield had considered her as a potential meal for Dracula. She’d recently broken up with a narcissistic partner (an event that brought her to the group) and she had a distant relationship with her family. She was alone in a new city. In other words, she was the right kind of vulnerable and invisible that would make it easy for her to suddenly disappear.

That was several weeks ago. Despite Dracula’s hungry moans, Renfield kept putting off killing Y/N. He wasn’t used to being this resistant. After centuries of murder, he thought eh finally gre immune to empathy or guilt or other things that may hinder such acts. But Y/N had reminded him that despite Dracula’s efforts, Renfield was still very much human deep down.

And to make matters worse, the longer Renfield spent time with Y/N, the harder and harder it was for him to imagine bringing her bloody corpse to his master…

“Robby?”

Y/N’s voice snapped Renfield from his thought. He lifted his face from his lukewarm copy. Y/N gave him a playful smile.

“I don’t know what’s in your coffee, but it can’t be that interesting,” she said.

Y/N giggled and Renfield eased into a smile.

He loved spending time with her.

But how much longer could he let this go on, until something went wrong?

~

Renfield knew there was only two ways this could end. Either Y/N would discover his true intentions, or he would have to abandon their relationship. The former was dangerous, the latter was unthinkable.

But fate made the choice for him.

After weeks, Dracula was getting hungrier. He kept leaving notes and letters around for Renfield to find, tormenting him with reminders of his blood thirst. A few of these letter made it into the hands of Y/N during her many visits to his apartment.

“What the fuck are these?!” Y/N yelled ast him. “You’re fixing to feed me to…some kind of cannibal killer?”

“He’s not a cannibal,” Renfield said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but his temple was sweating and his heart was racing. “I swear, he’s Dracula. The Dracula.”

“Oh, you really think I’m going to believe that?” Y/N snapped, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Whatever he is, you were going to feed him to me. That’s all our relationship is? I’m just a lamb to the slaughter to you?”

“Y/N, you’re not,” Renfield said, his voice desperate. “Please, if you just let me explain…”

“I never want to see you again,” Y/N said through blubbering tears. “If I see your face again, I’m calling the cops.”

With that, Renfield watched his only love slam out the door.

~

Renfiled felt like he had shattered to pieces. He imagined himself transformed into a stone statue and slowly cracking into rocky pieces on the ground. Hours passed and with each on he knew Y/N was going further away, only to ever remember him as a cruel liar.

He knew there was no point in winning her back. The best thing to do now was pack his things,c convince Dracula it was time to move locations again, and get as far from her as possible. But he didn’t want her to remember him as someone who didn’t care for her, who merely saw her as meat for the beast. 

So, he wrote her a note.

~

My dearest Y/N,

There’s a good chance you won’t even read this. Perhaps this note may just be a crumpled up note in a waste bin. But on the chance that you are reading this, I want to explain myself to you, if you’ll do me the kindness of listening.

I must begin with the deepest apologies for everything. For my dishonesty, for my endangerment of you, for watsing your time. I know saying this will not absolve me of my actions, but an apology is in order regardless. I should have never filled up your heart only to use it so carelessly.

It’s true. I did indeed to feed you to my master, as I have done with many humans over the centuries. But the longer we spent together, the more I couldn’t bare the thought of it. You’ve reminded me what it is to love, to care for, to worry over again. Such things I’d long believe I couldn’t feel anymore. For that, I owe you a thank you. A thank you for teaching me once again hat it is to be human.

I’m leaving the city with Dracula tonight. I have not told him about you. I will get him as far from you as possible, assure that he never sees you long enough to hurt you. I will allow every other human on earth to die before he can get his claws on you.

I won’t ask for forgiveness. All I ask is that you understand that I will spend eternity keeping this beast away from you. I only hope you can sleep better now.

Always yours, 

Robert Montague Renfield.

~

Y/N’s hand shook as she finished reading the note. She stumbled backwards into a chair in her apartment. It was all too impossible to believe. But it had to be true. Renfield was not the type to lie. He couldn’t if he tried.

If this was all true…

Y/N clenched the note in her fist and dropped her head down. A sob crawled up her throat and her eyes well with tears.

“Robby…” she whimpered. “I’m…”

Then, Y/N jumped when she heard a sudden knock on her door. She sniffled and wiped her eyes dry. The clock on the wall said it was pasr midnight. Who the hell could here at this ungodly hour?

Y/N stood up and approached the door. A warm nighttime breeze greeted her when she opened it up. Along with the wet, coppery scent of fresh blood.

Renfield stood before her, his face and purple sweater dripping with crimson. His face was twisted in sorrow and his eyes dripped with tears. Y/N’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“Y/N,” Renfield said, his voice shivering. “I…I’m sorry…I…”

He looked like a baby deer that had been struck by a car. Y/N’s heart squelched in her chest. Yes, Renfield was far from normal. Yes, maybe he’d been a victim of a monster that had in turned tried to make him into a monster.

But he was still Robby. Your Robby.

You took Renfield’s face in your hands. You used yout thumbs to wipe away the tears and blood trickling down his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “It’s okay.”

With that, you pressed your lips to his. You tasted the metallic liquid on his face but you didn’t care. You kissed him and he kissed you. And as you did, a single thought passed through Renfield’s head.

I’m free. She’s made me finally, finally free.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

oh, Mordecai having some romantic feeling about Atlas is so delicious. Adds inherent internal conflict -- Mordecai's dad is dead, Atlas may have thought of himself as stepping into a pseudo parental role (even if it was only as a manipulation tactic). Mitzi helping Mordecai with new clothing is an almost familial act, but also he's competing with her for atlas's attention (which is romantic attention for mitzi)! Very fucked up, I love it. thinking about it feels like getting tazed.

right! all about the Drama and that [lol that would be very fucked up. i love it] element

like we Could just suppose mordecai peaced (violenced) out of lackadaisy based just on the Business considerations of marigold now being the sole large & relatively stable operation around, and that he's now moved to dig into things only because he's worried about, what, arrest for murder (which would have Been a concern re: "murder is a not insubstantial part of your job" the whole time, but)....but it's more Enriching if he gets personal character motivations that aren't solely practical concerns, so you gotta imagine that's how it really is

and like what's (so likely i just assume it's true, and) important is just that mordecai has some kind of very motivating emotional attachment to atlas out here, and given that he's not forthcoming about that and atlas is (a) dead and (b) also not forthcoming in his fleeting, mysterious appearances, any details have to be speculation, but aren't Needed to suppose that that emotional significance is there....i assume the most common theory re: wondering what atlas meant to mordecai is that mordecai was like "that's my dad" and ofc with the lack of specific info we can't say that's Not the case lol. it would also be hilarious anytime there's like unilateral [that's my dad] that is never acknowledged / taken on by that would-be dad lmfao....and ofc it's possible that atlas is the one with the unilateral [that's my son] especially by virtue of assuming the figurative role of Patriarch as less mere "is this my begotten son" and more "i'm a Man who is In Charge of this group of people. meanwhile mitzi and mordecai truly can get in on some "familial" dynamic like particularly on the basis of "people who are stuck together (in this house, in this job, in this group you're supposed to belong to all your life)" and their being Rivals re: atlas in one way or another making them like frenemies out here is great, and that now they are plausibly frenemies who are also the only people who can understand each other's depression is even better lmfao. still thinking it was mitzi (wife) asa (friend) and mordecai (???) at atlas's funeral for sure

meanwhile it's really not difficult to imagine that mordecai could feel some type of way about atlas when it's like, people are gay, it also Is difficult to imagine a More emotionally impactful introduction to someone / establishment of their role in your life than "thinking your own murder is imminent and even that atlas was someone about to kill you Now but then it turns out that this guy absolutely out of nowhere basically saves your life even though he just spared you a revolver"....i do generally assume that atlas related to most everyone around him in that opportunistic way, that, like in taking on viktor, atlas sees someone backed against a wall here, and if they can shoot their way out of it then he has this potential hire who now owes him their life and has that ability to fight their way out of a situation in which others are trying to kill them and still doesn't have any other options, and, like pretty much everyone, continues to have few options as they get involved in the organized bootlegging world, the other paths are closed to you....but, of course, mordecai may not have ever been confronted with that hypothetical reality of how atlas related to Him, and not really have pushed to make his Own hypothetical feelings about atlas manifest as more than like, being that ferocious little shadow, nbd just an important, fave employee, and of course there's atlas being married not long after....not some amazing situation, but regardless of any further specifics, we can presume that it's as big a deal as anything to mordecai that Someone is on his side at all and helping him out, even just on the level of like, on his side of "not dying" and helping him with "not dying," and he's taking what he can get out here, aren't they all

and just some more "wow. wild" visuals like, such as The Following peak dramatic introduction and how it's like okay you could at least imagine it Could be the kind of thing mordecai feels differently about than like [literally dadcore] lol

meanwhile always going "wow....wild" about this bit

just before he's also like "i'll kill you" at the suggestion that he was Romantically Involved with mitzi lmao....i do not imagine that mordecai was ever living with atlas but it's like, how much bodyguarding was done, to what extents. certainly could imagine him getting close enough to escort people to their homes, doors of apartments or hotel rooms, could imagine sometimes staying in those places too....real "why are you, as a man, aware of another man's living situation and the status of his marriage's deterioration" moments lmao. even when it's like, well yeah he's quite literally Close to atlas whenever being like a personal guard type situation, and presumably being privy to a lot re: business, and even some of the personal. and it's also a question of, supposing atlas did have a part in his own death, What atlas's motivations would be....evidently it wasn't great for lackadaisy that he died, or for mitzi, and what benefits could atlas reap directly by his dying when yknow then that'd mean that he was dead....gotta suppose if he Did go "look, most trusted employee who's already privy to a lot and maybe i also trust b/c i know you Care A Lot: you gotta kill me" it's more likely that he Was motivated more sentimentally than like ruthless business boy style out here. maybe mitzi wasn't living with him after some opportunity she pursued too far evidently fucked some things up, but atlas would still be like "well the things are already fucked up, and also i'll die to get mitzi out of some impending further consequences of it" maybe. maybe it was that atlas was just Sure he'd be killed, and so he had mordecai be the one to do it rather than live in suspense and not get to pick the time and place and be killed right off rather than hoping that enemies lurking around every corner both can & will make it a quicker less painful death

and it's like, hand to forehead, oh lord The Drama to suppose atlas told mordecai "okay. you gotta kill me :/" and mordecai is kind of in love with him or something and yet still has to go "okay :/" and then do it and then he and atlas's now-widow, who he kind of hates and is now the one other person who knows what went down and who he'll attend the funeral with, can be [hand to forehead] about it together....not like there's no drama in mordecai going "i have the worst luck re: my dads dying, ugh" in this scenario either lmao but it Could instead be like This and it Would be all the more agonizing. gotta kill this guy you love who you knew was never exactly gonna return that even beyond "i mean, to what extent did he Love his actual wife, even if it's a [nonzero] answer" and who would entrust you with this task b/c he not only knows you Could do it but that you Would....which also leads me to the postscript of this theory, that atlas also could've just leveraged that "however anyone felt about it presumably mordecai was Technically only ever Officially: atlas's employee of the month" and also basically made it a Professional Order to be the one to kill him. sure thinking about how mordecai repeatedly, including in his introduction, goes "it's really important for me to have a consistent and rigorous approach to Doing My Job that isn't based on going 'yahoo wippee i'm having so much fun' b/c I'm Really Not, i do not like any of this" like hmmm! might be the kind of important, emphasized perspective of a character who was like "yeah i had to kill my boss who i loved and i deal with that by being all-in on 'i don't do this because i enjoy it'" while others are like wow mordecai why don't you Seem to enjoy this either way more or way less? what a weirdo. and he's like, literally i just work here. anyways imagining the like "mitzi and mordecai hanging out in silent crisis together in the Depression Café immediately after mordecai killed atlas b/c atlas arranged that and both of them were aware of this and mitzi was married to him and mordecai was his right hand man and now their frenemies forever competitive status is that classic 'we might never even talk now but we'll just share a lifelong secret maybe, you know how it is' and in this scenario i also do imagine mitzi would be aware how mordecai felt, gayly. a ton of fun"