fragmentedshards

[fragmentedshards]

Anyway have some super fucked up Barbies

[fragmentedshards]

Bill Moseley is THE actor of characters who are the older brother of characters who wear flesh masks @im-choptop-for-real

[fragmentedshards]

To Make Peace - Blind Mag + Amber Sweet. Repo! the Genetic Opera.

Summary: Just before Blind Mag goes on stage for her last show, she decides to pay Amber a visit. Will the two finally be able to work out their differences?

Warnings: Daddy issues, talk of plucking eyes out, pretty graphic depictions of Amber's face falling off

Hey All! Happy *Belated* galantines day. I wanted to celebrate by giving my favourite girls some love. for context, this scene happens sort of during the events of 'at the opera tonight'.

As always, if you like what you see, I take requests!

Blind Mag had made her peace.

She looked across her dressing table, her fingers trailing over the clutter. letters she never sent, pictures of a life that wasn’t hers, piles of makeup that masked what she’d become. The room smelled of roses, perfume, and the faint metallic sting of the claws she had hidden beneath the papers. She had given her costume designer a special request: only she was to know about her plan.

She lifted her gaze to the mirror. The last time she might ever see herself. The last time she might see anything. Her breath hitched, chest rising and falling in a steady, deliberate rhythm, forcing herself to stay composed. Because this was it. This was the moment she stopped being his. No Theirs.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of Rotti’s reaction. He would not let this slide. He would not accept her defiance. No one walked away from him alive and she knew the price of freedom. It was more than just her sight at stake. She had seen what he did to those who disappointed him. Those who betrayed him.

But damn him.

Damn him for ever thinking he owned her, for making her a spectacle, for forcing her into making her a bird in a cage and calling it a stage. For every time he had smiled as he reminded her that her eyes belonged to him, that she belonged to him.

Not anymore.

She exhaled sharply, hands curling into fists. The fear clawed at her, but beneath it, something stronger burned. Hatred. Hatred for the years she had wasted, for the strings he had pulled, for the choices he had stolen. But even as the rage boiled, there was a strange stillness within her.

She had made her peace.

Let Rotti come. Let him try to take what was his.

She would not make it easy.

-

Amber had not made peace.

She wobbled down the corridor, gripping the wall for support, her heels clicking unevenly against the polished floor. The opera house was alive with movement! stagehands rushing, lights being tested, distant voices calling cues, but all of it felt like static in her ears. Her pulse pounded louder than the chatter, her breath came in short, panicked bursts.

She shoved open the door to her dressing room, slamming it shut behind her. Safe. For now. But not for long. Graverobber would be here any minute, and then- Then she could be Amber  Sweet, Amber Fucking Sweet, the woman she was supposed to be. She hated this part. The moment before stepping on stage, before the lights blinded her, Before She was swept away by her song. Her anticipation clawed at her throat, made her feel like she was drowning in a sea of judgmental stares.

Daddy’s stares were the worst.

She could still hear his voice in her head, sharp as a scalpel, slicing through her confidence. He had never outright said she was a disappointment but he didn’t have to. His eyes had always done the talking. The way they lingered on Mag, full of admiration, full of pride. And the way they skimmed over Amber like she was nothing.

Her stomach twisted. That ‘Blind Hag’ was finally doing her last show. Finally leaving, going wherever washed-up opera singers went. Maybe her father would kill her! Amber wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t sure she cared. Either way, Mag would be gone, and she would take her place.

She would finally be able to sing. She would finally be the star.

But what if they laughed at her? What if they saw through the confidence, the carefully sculpted face, the designer body? What if they saw the shaking, pathetic little girl underneath?

No. It would be fine. It had to be fine.

Soon, Graverobber would be here with the Zydrate, and then it wouldn’t matter. Then she wouldn’t feel the fear, wouldn’t feel anything at all. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it made her who she was. It made her Amber Sweet, the woman who was supposed to be on that stage.

Then she saw it.

Amber choked back a shriek, her breath catching in her throat like barbed wire. ‘No. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.’

She stumbled forward, nearly tripping over her own heels as she lunged toward the vanity mirror. The harsh, unflattering bulbs cast her reflection in a sickly glow, illuminating every inch of the horror unfolding on her face.

Her fingers trembled as she touched her Forehead. The skin there was… loose. It shifted under her fingertips like wet silk, unnatural, wrong. A sticky warmth oozed from the seam along her hairline, thick and dark, sliding down the top part of her in sluggish, glistening like wet leather.

That fucking surgeon.

He had been rushing. She knew he had been rushing. He always did, always cut corners when he thought she wouldn’t notice, when he thought she was too drugged-up to care, because “She’s always too drugged up to care.” But now? Now her face: her perfect, expensive, Daddy-paid-a-fortune-for-it face, was coming apart at the seams.

Amber let out a strangled whimper as she pressed her palm flat against her forehead, trying to hold it together. But the moment she did, she felt something shift beneath her skin. A horrible, wet squelch. Then—

It slid down entirely.

She was melting.

Amber’s chest heaved in frantic, shuddering sobs as she gripped the edge of the vanity, her nails digging into the wood so hard they splintered. The scent of iron, of raw meat, of something rotting filled her nostrils. Her vision blurred, tears streaking down her face.

Amber had not made peace.

- 

A knock on the door.

Amber straightened up so fast she nearly lost her balance, Her head snapped toward the door, heart hammering in her chest.

“Who is it?” she snapped, voice sharp, strained, barely holding together.

Silence.

Her breath hitched. A second too long. A hesitation. She could almost hear her own blood dripping onto the vanity.

“It’s Mag.”

Amber’s stomach twisted.

The voice was soft, muffled through the heavy door, but there was no mistaking it. Mag. Of all people.

More silence.

Mag tried again. “Can I come in, please? I just want to talk.”

Talk? Since when did they talk?

Amber clenched her fists, her nails digging into the sticky flesh of her palms. The last time Mag had spoken to her—really spoken to her—had been years ago. No, they didn’t talk.

Mag just pitied her. Gave her hollow Care. Acted like she was something fragile, something that needed saving. She was not!

Amber swallowed the rising bile in her throat. Maybe she wanted to offer fucking necklace or something.

But she couldn’t let her see her. Not like this. Not when she looked like an over ripened fruit.

“Uh, no?” she yelled back, forcing her voice into something that sounded dismissive, casual. But there was a waver in it, an unmistakable shake. She clenched her jaw.

“Amber, please. Can we not fight today? Of all days?”

Amber closed her eyes.

Today.

Mag’s last show.

Tonight, she would be gone, one way or another. Maybe she’d leave quietly. Maybe Rotti would make her leave. But either way, this was it.

Amber sucked in a shaky breath. If anyone could understand this… Predicament, it was probably Mag.

“Hold on,” she muttered. “I’m coming.”

Her legs wobbled as she made her way to the door, blood squelching wetly between her fingers as she pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to keep the rest of it up. She hesitated for just a second before unlocking it.

The door swung open.

And there she was.

Blind Mag, in all her fucking glory, draped in black feathers, looking like some kind of gothic angel, or maybe a prize pheasant, Amber wasn’t sure.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Mag’s gaze, those eerie, engineered eyes, fell on her ruined face.

Amber barely had time to flinch before Mag’s expression cracked.

“Amber!”

Her voice was full of something that Amber wasn’t used to. Not disgust, not amusement, not smug superiority she had come to expect from the rest of her family.

Just… concern.

Amber barely had time to react before Mag was suddenly in front of her, her hands reaching, careful but firm, fingers ghosting over the gash in her forehead. She didn’t flinch at the blood, at the torn, sagging skin, at the horror show of Amber’s reflection.

“What happened?” Mag demanded, voice urgent, warm, gentle.

Amber swallowed past the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry again. But it was too much. The humiliation, the exhaustion, the raw, festering hatred that she had carried for years, all bubbling under the surface.

“Daddy’s surgeon fucked up my face,” she choked out, voice thick. “I’m going on in less than thirty minutes, and I look like a walking horror film.”

And then…she broke.

The sobs came out in gasping, hiccuping bursts, her body shaking under the weight of it all.

She expected Mag to pull away. To leave her there, to let her collapse into the mess she had become. But instead—

“Oh, Amber.”

Mag’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she wrapped an arm around her, guiding her toward the vanity. Amber didn’t have the strength to resist.

She sank into the chair, letting Mag’s hands on her. Warm, steady, nothing like the cold precision of GeneCo’s surgeons, tilt her face toward the light.

“Nothing is as bad as you think,” Mag murmured, reaching into the folds of her feathered costume. “Here. I have a way to help.”

-

Mag reached into her pocket and pulled out a small tub of what looked like… Dermabond?

“I stole this from one of the surgeons the last time I had my teeth done,” she said casually, scooping a small dollop onto her fingertip.

Amber blinked. “You’ve had your teeth done?”

“Yes, twice.” Mag’s voice was even, as if it were nothing remarkable.

She stepped closer, placing a gentle but firm hand on Amber’s shoulder. Her touch was warm, steady, almost comforting. Carefully, she ran the adhesive down Amber’s hairline.

Amber flinched, hissing in pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mag murmured, her voice. “It’ll only sting for a moment.”

Amber swallowed, blinking rapidly. A question tumbled from her lips before she could stop it. “Why are you being so nice to me?” She searched Mag’s face. “I’ve been awful to you.”

Mag sighed, her expression softening. “I never wanted to take what you loved from you.” Her voice was quiet, almost distant. “It was just… complicated.”

Amber furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand.”

Mag hesitated. She considered telling Amber everything: the contract, Marni, the years of sacrifice, but what good would it do? Instead, she simply smiled, resting a hand against Amber’s cheek.

“You’re beautiful, Amber. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your brothers, not your father, and especially not that disgusting-smelling goth punk you spend your time with.”

Amber’s lips parted in surprise. “He doesn’t,” she said, as if trying to convince herself.

She found herself studying Mag more closely. There was no cruelty in her words, no deception, just honesty Pure Honesty. Perhaps Mag wasn’t so bad after all. Perhaps, after her final show, they could be friends. Mag could even give her singing pointers. Maybe they could sing together one day.

That would be nice.

Mag pressed a gentle hand to Amber��s forehead, inspecting her work. “There. That should hold for now.” She wagged a finger playfully. “And don’t touch your face.”

Amber lowered her gaze, something tight forming in her chest. “Thank you.”

Mag’s smile was soft, maternal. “You’re welcome.” With a fluid, graceful motion, she rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you to get ready for your big moment.”

Amber hesitated. “Wait… What were you going to say? Before you fixed my face?”

Mag looked at her for a long moment. There were so many things she could say. So many things she wanted to say.

Instead, she just smiled.

“Just… good luck out there.” Her voice was warm, tinged with something Amber couldn’t quite place. “You’re going to give them one hell of a show.”

A mischievous chuckle escaped her lips, but there was something else beneath it…something heavier. Amber didn’t notice. Not yet.

As Mag turned to leave, she felt something small and fragile wrap around her. Amber.

For a second, Mag froze. Then, slowly, she turned, enveloping the girl in a proper embrace.

Perhaps she would miss her the most 

She lingered for just a moment longer, then pulled away, offering Amber one last smile before stepping toward the door.

Amber smiled back.

And as Mag strode toward her fate, deep down she knew.

Blind Mag had made her peace.

[fragmentedshards]

Discovered and purchased a Japanese Repo movie pamphlet.

[fragmentedshards]

“HE’LL PAINT YOUR ASS LIKE A REMBRANDT!”

— repo! the genetic opera + girl at a window, aristotle with a bust of homer, slaughtered ox, christ appearing to mary magdalene, danaë, the stoning of saint stephen, and a weeping woman

[fragmentedshards]

Repo! meme batch

[fragmentedshards]

Foxy Coltrane x Crazy!Reader || Headcanons

Topic: Foxy with an S/O who hates Otis.

Warnings: Hating on Otis, curses, threats, smuttiness (Specifically meaning talk of cum, penis, and um... volume+proximity to other people)... look, its Driftwood-Coltrane fanfiction. Its not gonna be clean.

For as long as you've known this family, which is pretty much as long as you've been friends with Foxy (He brought you home his next time visiting them. He said you're crazy and you'll fit right in- which you do XD )- you have h a t e d Otis.

He brushed you the wrong way immediately when one of the first things he said near you was putting Foxy down (Someone you really like. Someone you genuinely just click with. Someone who later becomes more then a friend). You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, I mean brothers do mess with each other right?

But goddamnit. The more you tried to look for a redeeming quality in this piece-of-crap man, the less you liked him. He was just gross. He's gross, and cranky, and god d a m n i t, those r a n t s. Just shut up! You're not as smart as you think! No one is listening to you. You're the boss of no one!

Anyway, so your stance on Otis has been pretty steady since the beginning. You god along great with everyone else, cuz like Foxy said you a r e crazy, so they loved you and they didn't put you off at all. You could even have a good time with them when Otis was there, you just didn't really interact with him.

As for Otis' own feelings... well, Otis doesn't like anyone (Except maybe Baby. And he clearly has a soft spot for Mama Firefly too otherwise he would never have come down to dinner in the first movie and brought... whoever was in that jar for her. I cant clearly hear the name.). So he pretty much disliked you from the beginning too. Took one look at you, rolled his eyes and moved on.

Foxy... is a big fan of your distaste for his brother honestly XD Like, you like him more??? Really??? Hell yes. He is fucken better.

And every time that you snap at Otis (Whether it be because he said something rude towards your favourite person, Foxy, or just cuz he was getting on your nerves by... you know... existing- ), Foxy just has this shit-eating grin on his face and he'll keep you safe if Otis decides to lash out and try to hurt you for it. He'll aim a loaded shot gun right at his brother and mean it. And Otis will see that he means it.

(Sure, he may not intend to actually kill Otis like you might enjoy, just wound him, but uh- being shot is gonna hurt like a bitch no matter where the wound is)

It turns him on, too. Like goddamn- the moment you grit your teeth and growl or even spit at Otis- Foxy feels himself getting as hard as rock. The first few times this happens, he doesn't both you about it. He's a grown man, he can handle this. And by 'handle this', i do not mean jerk off. I mean he'll just, sort of, adjust his jeans and live with it until he stops being turned on and it softens up again?? He ignores it, basically. Yes, he will have a yucky creamy mess in his underwear (Or? Just his jeans?? I don't know if these men would wear underwear. They stinky) but eh he can live it. He's gross, you must know this.

One day either you notice it (I mean how can you not? I bet you good money Foxy's pretty large, bigger than Otis and thats saying something, and that would create a thick indentation in his pants 😅😅😅), or Foxy draws your attention to it (Having decided that, yeah. He does wanna fuck his friend. Lets give this a try and see if you're into it), and welllllllllll~

That begins your more then friends thing with Foxy XD

And oh! Yes. You can bet your bottom dollar you are extra loud when Foxy's fucking you in the Firefly house. You dont give a fuck if most of the family hears, they don't care themselves (Mama Firefly is probably just like 'Oh good for sweet Winnie~ ^^ ~', Baby rolls her eyes like 'Ugh, i'm trynna watch a fricken movie here!', Spaulding is at work, Tiny figures someone's having a tantrum upstairs which is pretty standard, RJ just leaves like 'fuck this i'd rather be outside anyway', and Grandpa... 😂😂 sorry but Grandpa probably cheers you on- )- you just want Otis to know how good Foxy is in every single aspect. Its a low blow, but hell if you care?? Otis is a bastard.

Foxy thinks your craziness is amusing and adorable, and he's so chuffed that the one you're crazy for is him.

You're also super affectionate with Foxy when Otis is around. I mean, you're normally affectionate with Foxy (How could you not be?? Look at him! Tell me you don't wanna give him kisses and hug him) because he's great, but it definitely hits different when Otis' (self imposed) lonely ass is around to see it. No one wants worship him, do they?? Nope.

Like, you're all over him like some kind of obsessed love-struck freak (And, again, who could blame you? look at him-). Running your hands up his sides or over his chest (Dipping under his shirts sometimes), your lips on is jaw or giving him a very deep very obscene tongue-kiss, sitting sideways his lap so you can still see him and have intimate whisper-little talks with him (And kicking Otis if you're close enough 😅😅), sucking slow and wet hickeys into his neck while he watches his old movies, etc.

Again- Foxy does not mind at all 😂😅😅 He loves it actually. He doesn't move to stop you at all. In fact, if he brings Otis around you (Which he loves to do on purpose, because he loves to see how protective and loving you get about him when you see Otis with him) he will apologise. Like 'Sorry, sweetheart... couldn't get a sitter on such short notice. Its not my fault y'cant schedule your booty calls better, sweet thing... he'll jack off in the bushes or something.'.

You are totally willing to brawl with Otis if you it comes to it!! If he keeps insulting Foxy, or you, or just reach your limit- you have lunged at him before and Foxy has had to catch you, throw you over his shoulder and walk off like 'nope you, crazy pants, are the best fuck i've had in a while; you're not gettin' yourself killed that easy on my watch'.

Otis... Otis is not much more disturbed or pissed by your attitudes towards him then he is by everyone else's annoying little Things that he hates. He's not bothered, basically (Cuz uh, being annoyed and cranky are his default settings), and that pisses you off more.

... but hey. At least Foxy feels good ^^

[fragmentedshards]

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane Imagines

Dating Foxy

• As a boyfriend, Foxy is fairly oblivious to your emotional needs; he isn’t used to being around people who really talk about their feelings

• You’re probably the first genuine girlfriend he’s has in a long time, he’s used to hookers and corpses, so there is definitely an adjustment period for him

• You probably won’t even notice when he has settled into the relationship; not until something genuinely upsets him, and the first thing he does is reach for your hand

• He is very physical, and not just sexually. If he’s driving you know damn well his hand is on your thigh

• Pleasantly surprising, he is a huge cuddler. He likes his arm around your back and your head against his chest; very clingy in his sleep

• Unsurprisingly, the man wants to fuck all the time; you can’t remember the last time you showered alone. If you’re just chilling on the couch reading, don’t be surprised if he’s suddenly between your legs eating your pussy

• He’s a big fan of classical media, and wants you to appreciate it too. He really loves it if you’re willing to listen to him go on and on about his favorite movies

• Whenever you watch an old movie for the first time, you watch it quietly once, and then watch it again with Foxy’s running commentary

• This man is very aware of the effect his voice has on you, and takes full advantage of that with all the sweetest pet names

• He calls you pretty much anything he can come up with except your name, and you are half-sure that he’s forgotten it

• That is, until one day he comes home with a fresh tattoo of a heart with your name on it

• When you’re with Foxy, you definitely don’t need to worry about people treating you badly. He’s a scary guy, so it doesn’t take much to get assholes to back off.

• The real fun begins when someone won’t leave well enough alone

• He may not be the best at showing it, but Foxy loves you dearly, and doesn’t know what he would do without you

[fragmentedshards]

Foxy Coltrane x Fem!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: A few (5) of your many 💋kisses💋 with Foxy Coltrane. They aren't really in any particular order.

'I just wanted to know what it would be like.' - Gilmore Girls

Warnings: Sexual references + kissing gifs. Reader is pretty obsessed. Unedited.

***the 'fem' part in the title can be taken with a grain of salt. I only put it because the gifs are all hetero. If that doesn't bother you, theirs actually no mention that the reader is feminine in the writing.

1; The first time.

Your lips touch his, your hands sliding up a moth eaten american flag shirt and the warm chest under it and they reach his shoulders, and its absolutely everything you thought it would be. He grins against your mouth like he just won a bet and strong arms wrap around you; holding you still. Literally caging you in.

If you hadn't already committed to this madness, then you probably would have the good sense to be afraid of that. But you wanted this. You thought about it, you considered the pros and the cons, the feel of his lips on yours vs the feel of his fingers in your guts, and the desire to kiss him won by a landslide.

You must be crazy.

Foxy kisses just like how you would imagine a 55-year-old borderline feral classic to kiss- all encompassing, that beard rubbing your face in an oddly pleasant way and his big hands grabbing your hips just like they belong there. Like you're his. He takes his time kissing you, his mouth moving carefully on yours, just enjoying it; a hot piece of ass like you just walkin' up and kissing him out of nowhere. He's definitely game for shit like that.

When you have to breathe and separate just for air, he tries to follow you for half a second, but settles for giving you a mischievous, almost smug grin and dropping his forehead against yours. "... well hi." He drawls, his voice a slow crawl that makes you feel things. Terrible, dangerous things.

Breathless and eyes glazed over with want. Everything about the older man is perfect to you- how can he be so handsome?? How can he be so hot? And interesting? And the fact that he's considerably saner then his brother and sister is definitely a bonus for you. "I just wanted to know... what it would be like."

"Oh? Making out with an old guy?" Foxy teases. "Kinky little bitch, huh?"

"Making out with you." You admit boldly, your hands still on his shoulders and watch his face transform into a wicked grin.

"'s that so?... " He looks thoughtful and impressed and intrigued by you, his eyes soft but daunting at the same time. "You sure about that? Kinda dangerous, dontcha think?... "

Definitely. "I think it was worth it."

"You wanna get outta here?"

2; When he comes back after a trip away from you.

"Fox!" As soon as you saw him laid back half-slumped in the cushions on your couch, his knees spread wide manspreading like an ass, and an old black-and-white on your tv, and that slow smirk on his handsome face after he was gone for 2 months, your mood is completely lifted. You had the l o n g e s t day at work and you were ready to absolutely collapse but the effect he has on you is an instant recharge. A slow grin spreads across your face as you close the door behind you. You've missed him so bad-

"Hey there sweetheart. Been a while this time. My bad." The way his eyes flicker down your body and back up to your face again, the happy-to-see-you grin on his handsome rugged face, lights you up inside even brighter. He came here to see you!! He's happy to see you!! "C'mere."

You don't hesitate a second before crossing the room and settling in his lap, connecting your lips in a searing kiss full of all the want you've had to compartmentalise and put away all the time that he was not here. He barely moves, seeming lazy as he just lifts his chin to kiss you back. He doesn't need to move; you're in control (at least he lets you believe you are, 'cuz he likes you) and you're already nice and close in his lap, your knees digging into the couch cushions on either side of his camo-clad hips.

You went from negative one hundred to positive two hundred so fast you're already clenching around nothing, and so when he puts his hands on your hips (His big, dangerous, experienced wolfman hands) and encourages you to grind down on his hard bulge - which must have already been hard before you walked in, - you're happy to oblige. The kiss has to stop, at that- an inconceivable sigh of relief choking you at the feeling you missed; your head pressing into his shoulder as your hips slowly move against him.

"There, there, baby... I'm back... "

3; When Otis is looking at you a certain kind of way.

You hate Otis' attention. You hate being around Otis- he nearly killed you when you first met the Fireflies, after all, and it was only Baby who kept you alive cuz you were a good playmate (now of course you're Foxy's playmate, instead though. Funny how things change). But even now he sometimes looks at you, and you can tell he still wants to kill you after all this time. Pull you apart and make something new out of your pieces. Otis hasn't become attached to you in the slightest- he never would. In his head you will always be prey.

The whole time Otis has been sticking near to you tonight and picking on you Foxy has been behind you, telling him to back the hell off you whenever he goes too far, or just glaring. Otis knows what he's doing, knows he shouldn't be messing with you (You're Foxy's), but of course he doesn't care.

When Otis crosses the line with Fox (Finally. He crossed the line as far as you're concerned 3 seconds in), referring to you as 'meat, you're sure Foxy's going to pick up your hand and take you both out of there. Leave. Go somewhere where it can be just the two of you.

You're shocked when he sits down in a chair and guides in between his legs, one hand on your waist drawing you in for a deep kiss thats would be completely indecent in any other social group but the Fireflies. A surprised noise slips out of you but after he uses the opening to slip his tongue into your mouth, you get quiet; obediently kissing him back. Needily kissing him back. You're absolutely all his and you can never ever help it when he kisses you. He kisses you, and its all over. Any restraint you had, any nervousness or fear (Of him, of Otis, of your own psychotic desires for this evil man) disappear and all you have is a want for the warm familiar feel of him under your skin.

He knows it.

He knows as soon as he does this to you you wont be scared, anymore. You'll forget all about Otis. And Otis'll lose all interest.

And just like that, with Foxy's tongue deep in your mouth and his hand on your waist squeezing the fat there gently and making you crazy, Otis rolls his eyes and gets up. You don't even notice him leave, your fingers losing themselves in your Foxes hair just like the rest of you is lost in him.

Foxy cracks his eyes open, still kissing you, to watch him walk off. Too fucken easy.

4. Slow kisses when you're alone and you have plenty of time.

Sometimes the stars and the planets all align and your free wolfman stays. Foxy gets that still energy about him- like he's not going anywhere this time, at least for now, like here with you is exactly where he most wants to be in the world- and thats saying something because Foxy can go anywhere he wants to. Have whatever he wants. do whatever he wants. At least thats what you think.

At least he can get whatever he wants, from you.

During these times where he's still, not going away, you hope to be alone. No Fireflies, no Spaulding, no scary Otis.

Because- g o d.

When you are alone-

Theirs something oddly romantic about him, something from those old movies he likes in the way he touches you. His lips on yours are soft, teasing, setting your nerves on fire and making you moan. He'll sit on the couch for hours with you just tasting your lips, and your tongue, and your cheeks and jaw and neck and anywhere else he can reach. And when you get up to eat, or shower, or go to the bathroom, its not long before the possessive-obsessive wolfman comes up behind you and starts all over again.

He presses your front against a wall and lathers your neck and shoulders in those maddening gentle kisses, he feels up your spine with the tips of his dirty fingernails while you're cooking something on the stove and then sucks the darkest hickey you've ever seen into the crook of your neck (It'll be so sensitive to the touch after. He'll leave the same ones in all sorts of other places on you, too), he'll kiss you deep until you get lightheaded from the sheer lack of air.

He makes you even more addicted to him. Makes it even worse when he inevitably leaves again.

But... while it lasts....

5. The kiss in the middle of a fight.

Its honestly the hardest thing in the world for you to be mad at this man- because he could hurt you. But also because you love him. And also because he refuses to listen!!

"You are the most frustrating- are you hearing me??"

He looks up from a machete set across his knees, which he was picking blood clots off of with his bare fingernails, and raises his brows. "... huh?"

"Ughhhhh!" You just got finished telling him what was bothering you, and he was off in la la land!! Frustration washes through you like a tidal waive and you don't know what to do with yourself. He does this every time!! You're pretty sure he does it on purpose! Unsure what to do with yourself, you whip around and storm off- ignoring his 'wait, hold on, wait, wait!- '.

When suddenly his hand wraps around your wrist like a vice and whips you back around to him you end up slamming right against his chest. You try to back up and storm away again but his other hand comes down on your arm and holds you still. "Hold on, there. What's the problem, sweetcheeks?"

"Whats the pr-!? " Ohhhhh. "Let me go, I'm leaving!"

"Come on, clue me in."

"I did! You weren't listening!"

"Alright, shit, well I didn't think it was something important. Fuck me. Alright, siddown, my ears are wideee open."

"No!"

"I'm not givin' you a choice."

Instead of arguing with that you just start struggling against him again, and he watches half-annoyed at your little attempts; wriggling your wrist in his grip and trying to yank your other arm away from him- you budge him but he doesn't let go. "Fuck- "

Eventually his annoyance turns into amusement, watching you wriggle like a worm on a hook. "Goddamnit, you're cute." A slow smirk spreads across his face looking down at you. "Makes me wanna do stuff to ya. Stuff ya like. Too bad you're so upset... woulda been a fun couple hours."

Thats, admittedly, makes you falter. Even give up. Fuck. Breathless, you stop your fighting and look up at him with big frustrated bambi eyes. "... what?"

"You heard me."

"I'm mad at you." He cant do this to you!! This isn't fair! He's an ass, and he deserves to be mad at for a while.

"I know, I know." The grin on his face spreads as he steps in closer to your body, now that you're not actively trying to get away from him anymore; he knows he's got you. You can feel his warmth against your skin through layers of clothes. "... but come on, that'll just make it more fun, right?"

"... " You part your lips to respond, agree with him or deny him some more even though you know you want to give in, when you realise his grip on you loosened. Your heartbeat immediately picks up and thank god he doesn't realise it because a moment later you're gone from his grip and storming off again.

This time you make it a mere 2 feet before he catches you again and drags you back right against him this time; smothering your laughter and his amused grin at your cheek with his mouth.

The kiss immediately destroys any last resolve you had for yourself and you ring your arms up around his neck; slipping your tongue into his mouth.

[fragmentedshards]

Dracula and Chill (NSFW)

Foxy Coltrane x gn!reader

18+ only! Minors be gone!

Summary: reader goes on vacation to Mexico with friends and meets Foxy in a bar.

Warnings: smut, mention of Foxy being a serial killer (does it really need to be said? If you've watched the movie you already know), alcohol

Length: 3.5k words

(For the purpose of the fic, reader is American and AFAB)

-----

Your phone rings.

"Any chance you'd want to go on vacation with us next month?"

Alexis had been your friend all throughout high school and was trying to set something up with a few friends so you could catch up without the pressures of work or responsibilities. You think for a second before responding back.

"I have some vacation time saved up. Let me know when and where"

"Durango, Mexico. Not the most interesting place but it's cheap and it'll definitely be a nice change of pace for a week. Thinking February 16th to the 23rd. Brooke already said that week is free for her and I'm still waiting for a response from Ryan"

You check your calendar, seeing nothing pre-planned to stop you. You put the call on hold and call your boss to ask about getting that week off. He makes note of it and tells you to have fun.

"Yea I'm free that week. Need to get my passport updated before then but we should be good"

The plane lands, jolting you awake. The drunk bachelorette party a few rows in front of you woops and hollers rowdily. You look to Alexis, who had mentioned a headache a mere 20 minutes into the flight. You offer a sympathetic glance, to which she responds with a smile. You grab both of your carry ons out of the overhead bin, handing her hers and checking on the row behind you that contained the rest of the group. The four of you exit the plane and go through the usual post-flight bathroom breaks.

After everyone is out and accounted for, the group heads to the rental desk and goes through the process of renting a car. After maybe about twenty minutes of driving, you come upon the shabby little hotel Brooke's uncle owned and had left to her cousin upon his death.

Once checked in and settled in your rooms, the four of you leave to get dinner. You find a little restaurant nearby and order food.

Dinner conversation is mostly tame and what you'd expect from the group. Alexis commented on how Brooke's cousin flirted with her when offering the group a discounted rate. Ryan tells the group about scoring his dream job that he'd be starting in April. Brooke showing everyone pictures of her son and talking about how motherhood has treated her.

The next morning the group of you set out sightseeing in the city nearby rather than stay in the small town for the whole time. Once you head back, Ryan has an idea.

"I saw a bar not far from the hotel. We should check it out. Might be interesting" he shrugs and you all agree it's worth trying.

The four of you make your way to the bar and order your drinks. They're out fairly quickly, and you get to exploring the place. There's a few rowdy men throwing knives at a particle board target, some women who seem to be there mainly for the purpose of getting laid and not much else, a few isolated groups of patrons, and the trio at the other end of the bar. They're all roughly middle aged, but the blonde woman with them has the energy level of a teenager. She seems to be the life of the party in the bar.

The two men with her, however.. The older one seemed irritated at the woman's antics, clearly trying to pick up a woman at a table nearby. The other one was attractive to say the least. Tall and lanky, with longish honey brown hair and blue eyes. You'd always had a thing for older men. And he was looking straight at you. His face broke into a smug grin and he winked before bringing his attention back to the other people he was there with.

You take this as a sign to get back to your friends as well. You tune back into the conversation, noting it to be about everyone's college experiences. Not much for you to add. You finish your drink up only to see another slide in front of you once you put the empty one down. You arch an eyebrow in a silent request for explanation. The bartender shrugs and points to the end of the bar. At the man you were just observing. He gestures for you to come over.

You let your friends know you're going to look around some more and 'socialize with the locals' as you so put it, before slipping away and joining the stranger.

As soon as you approach him, he gives you the same shit eating grin as earlier. "Hey sweetheart, come here often?"

You roll your eyes at the cheesy overused line. "First time. Vacation with friends. What about you?"

He shrugs. "Been living in the area 'bout 3 months. Not much to do 'round here" He pauses for a moment. "Oh where are my manners? I'm Foxy."

You offer a weak smile at his introduction. "I'm (Y/N)."

He smirks. "Lovely name for a lovely person. Mind sticking around a while?"

"I don't see why not."

He offers you a chair and you sit down.

The two of you talk for what seems like hours before Brooke approaches you. "We're heading back to the hotel. Here's the spare key to the room whenever you're ready." She drops the key in your hand and you stash it away in your pocket.

Foxy takes a look behind him real quick. You notice the other people he was there with are gone. "Well. It looks like Otis and Baby ditched. How bout you join me and we ditch too?"

You agree and he pays off your tab for you, throwing an arm around you and guiding you out of the bar. After walking down the street for maybe ten minutes you come upon a modest building. The other man from earlier, Otis you presume, is sitting in a lawn chair with a beer. He notices the two of you and waves at Foxy but says nothing.

Foxy holds the door open for you, and swats at your behind as you enter.

You take a look around, checking out your surroundings as you head for the couch. Nothing too out of the ordinary besides the large number of weapons either openly out on display or poorly hidden. To be fair you did hear about some gang activity nearby so it couldn't hurt to be cautious if you live in the area.

He sits down next to you. The two of you talk about backgrounds for a while. You find out the people he was with earlier were his siblings. Otis you had seen on the way in and Baby was out doing who knows what. He mentions being really into classic movies and having amassed a fairly large collection of them. You offer to watch one with him if he didn't mind and he leads you to the bedroom.

The inside of Foxy's bedroom is exactly what you'd expect. Old movie posters on the wall and a large hunting knife on the nightstand accompanied by several empty beer bottles. You sit down on the bed and he puts a VHS tape in the player before sliding into bed next to you. Once the movie starts you notice it's the original Dracula.

About twenty minutes into the movie Foxy wraps his arm around your shoulders and you instinctively lean into him. You don’t take your attention off the movie to look at him, but you hear a low chuckle beside you.

After another half hour or so a hand makes its way to your thigh. You ignore it at first, but then it slides higher and begins to squeeze, so you glance over at the man beside you. Same shit eating grin you’ve come to associate with him.

“Well don’t look at me, babydoll. Pay attention to the movie.”

You cautiously obey, not sure where this would go, but certainly not mad at the development. A minute or so of squeezing and rubbing your thigh later, he goes for your pants button. You turn back around to say something about it, but he quickly stops you, shushing you gently before replying in the same cocky tone that got you into this situation to begin with.

"I said focus on the movie. Don't mind me havin’ a feel."

The second he says that, you feel his hand slip into your underwear. He uses the arm still around you to move you into his lap. His fingers make their way down, checking for evidence that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. He drags his fingers through the wetness he found there, bringing them up to play with your clit. At first he was gentle, barely touching you. Ghosting over where you wanted him most and teasing you experimentally to see what made you gasp and squirm. He figured this out rather quickly, judging by the way you were panting and squirming and trying to close your legs around his hand.

You lay back into his chest and feel him hard and poking into your back. This somehow makes you even wetter. He gets you right to the edge but when you're about to cum, he backs off.

Foxy waits for you to cool down before he begins again, filling this time by placing soft kisses all over your neck. You moan and tilt your head to give him better access.

Once he deems it safe to continue without you finishing too soon, he moves a finger down to your entrance. It stays there for a moment, gathering you juices, before he easily slides it all the way in. You gasp and grab onto his thigh next to you. Your legs begin to shut again on their own accord, but he holds them open, making sure you can’t move away. He pumps it in and out experimentally, waiting until you calm down to add a second. His fingers curl up inside you, perfectly hitting your g-spot. When he figures out he found the right spot, he rubs it in soft circular motions. Your eyes flutter closed and he stops.

“Watch the movie. It’s almost over. Wouldn’t want you missin’ the ending, now would we?” Foxy flashes you a toothy grin and you try to focus on the screen.

He starts again, and you’re careful to keep your attention on the movie rather than Foxy. You only really have to hold out another ten minutes before the movie ends and the screen fades to black. As soon as the movie is over, he grabs your throat, squeezing just hard enough to be pleasurable.

He pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them off in his mouth.

“Damn, doll. You taste good. You should have a taste.” and with that, he kisses you. It’s sloppy and dirty, but still soft enough to be enjoyable. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he’s right. It is good.

You get off his lap and stand up to take your clothes off. He watches closely as you expose more and more skin.

Foxy jumps up and joins you, quickly throwing his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. He rips his pants and underwear down his legs and pushes you down on the bed. His hand cracks down on your ass and your hips jolt forward, away from him. He cackles like a madman at your reaction and slaps the other side with just as much force. This time you’re expecting it, and it actually feels good. So naturally, you lean into his touch.

“Dirty little thing, aren’t ya?” You nod, rubbing your thighs together to try to get some friction. “Ya want some more?” You nod again. “Gonna have to ask me nicely.” You whimper out, trying to muster up a singular brain cell to give him a coherent response.

“P-please Foxy. Please give me more.” you stutter out shakily.

“Gladly.” He rapid fire gives you six more slaps before grabbing and squeezing your ass. It stings and you can feel the warmth radiating from your flesh, but you can also feel how soaking wet you are. So can he. You feel the head of his cock slipping through your wetness. You try to push back on it, desperately needing filled up. His grip on your hips stops you in your tracks.

“Patience, sweetheart. You’ll get it soon. I like to have a little fun first.” He takes the next few moments to slowly, torturously tease you with his cock before he finally lines up with your pussy and pushes inside. He lets out a deep pleasured groan directly into your ear. You moan at the feeling of finally being stretched open. It’s been a while, and Foxy is giving you exactly what you need.

“Damn, dollface. You feel so good. Might have to keep you around just for this.” He rolls his hips a few times experimentally, figuring out what you do and don’t like, and which spots to hit to make you writhe beneath him. Just like with his fingers, he finds it quickly and you moan, definitely louder than you should've considering there are other people in the house, but you’re too focused on the pleasure Foxy is giving you to think about anything else. He grabs your hip with one hand, and the other goes down to rub your clit. The room is full of the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass, your wetness squelching around his cock, and the combined noises from both of you and that ambiance is more arousing than you would’ve thought. After a few particularly hard thrusts and his hand that was previously on your hip making its way around your throat, you feel yourself begin to get close. The hand around your throat squeezes enough to make your vision start to blur and it intensifies everything you're feeling in a way you’ve never experienced before.

“Foxy, yes! Don’t stop!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm moments away.

“That’s it. Cum for me, sweetheart”

Your orgasm hits, and it’s blinding. You’re vaguely aware of Foxy groaning beside your ear and a warm feeling spreading inside you. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and rolling to collapse beside you. You crawl back up into the bed and he follows you. Your head makes its way to his chest, sweaty bodies slightly sticking together in a way that would otherwise seem gross, but in your post-coital bliss is endearing. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep in your comfy embrace.

The next morning, you wake up, naked, in an unfamiliar place, using someone’s stomach as a pillow. You look around and remember the events of last night. Finding someone at the bar. Going home with him. Watching Dracula. The sex.

You quickly get dressed and sneak out of the house, walking back to the hotel. You unlock the door to the room you’re sharing with your friends, and they're having breakfast. Brooke glances up to look at you, and laughs.

“Ooh the walk of shame. Assuming things went well with mystery man from the bar last night?”

You nod, looking anywhere but her. “I’m going to go shower.”

That night, the group decides to go back to the same bar, reasoning that they had decently good drinks and were reasonably close to the hotel, so they could get drunk without worrying about having a designated driver.

The group orders their drinks and finds a table. Not long after sitting down, Ryan elbows you in the ribs to get your attention.

“Hey (Y/N), isn’t that your guy from last night?”

You cautiously turn your head to look in the direction he’s gesturing to and see Foxy with his siblings that you briefly met yesterday. Otis and Baby, you think. But of course you weren’t focused on too much other than him.. And that damn movie he wouldn't let you look away from. You nod.

“You should go talk to him” Alexis encourages, quickly catching onto the gist of the conversation.

You shook your head. “Nah. I figured it was more of a one night stand than anything else.” The thought was tempting though. He was cute, great in bed, and from what you knew you got along well with him. But he lived here and you were just on vacation. You had to go back home in four days. Better not to get too attached to people you meet on vacation.

However, across the room, Foxy was debating the same thing. Hook ups were nice and all, but sometimes he got greedy, wanting more than the limited connection allowed by one night of sex. He had explained his dilemma to his siblings. Otis laughed, accusing him of going soft on them, then suggesting he just kidnap you. That wouldn’t work. They had just built a decent life where no one would be looking for them, it wouldn’t be good to ruin that because he wanted pussy.

Baby, however, was a little more sympathetic to his situation and had better advice than kidnapping. She suggested that he just talk to you. To lay the charm on thick the way he was known to. He thought about it for a moment, before concluding she wasn't wrong. It was at least worth a shot. So he got up and started heading for your table

The conversation had moved on from what you did last night to what your former high school classmates were up to now. Ryan’s eyes widened slightly, and you didn’t have time to ask why before a set of hands settled themselves on your shoulders.

“Damn, sweetheart. Didn’t even wake me up for a proper goodbye?”

You blushed. Apparently the decision of whether or not to talk to Foxy again had been made for you. Your friends immediately started paying attention to the two of you, deeming this much more entertaining than what they were previously talking about. You, however, didn’t really want to have this conversation with an audience. So you got up, telling Foxy you wanted to go somewhere more private to talk. He agreed, and led you to the bar’s patio area.

The two of you sit down at a table outside and discuss the things that happened last night. How you liked the movie. How you liked what happened during and after. Why you left without waking him. He found a piece of paper and scribbled his phone number down on it, hoping you’d at least stay in contact for the rest of your vacation. You shoved it in your pocket with the key for the hotel room, making a mental note to call him later. Then he drops the line you were hoping to hear, but unsure if you would. He wanted last night to happen again. So did you. So it did. You actually waited for him to wake up before leaving this time and were rewarded with some nice morning sex. That happened two more times before you had to leave.

Once back in the states, you had maintained loose contact with Foxy. Of course a good majority of your phone calls would end in phone sex, but getting to talk to him was always nice, long distance fees be damned. One night, you’re on the phone with him while you make dinner. The news is playing on the TV in the background, and you're only barely paying attention to it. But the one time you do look over to the TV, you drop the phone in shock. Three mugshots are displayed on the TV with the information that there’s been a search for them for several months. One of them being Foxy, and the other two being his siblings that you’ve come to be acquainted with during your visits to their house. You knew they seemed familiar for a reason. You scramble to pick up the phone and put it to your ear to catch Foxy asking if you’re still there and asking what happened.

“You’re.. You’re on TV” you manage to whisper out.

“Aw fuck, babydoll. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out” He then briefly explains what all happened and asks if you’re going to try to turn him in. Your mind however, is somewhere completely different.

“Wait.. your name is actually Winslow?”

“Yeah.. really doesn’t fit me too well, does it?”

“I absolutely get why you go by Foxy now.. No offense, but Winslow is an unmoanable name if I’ve ever heard one.” you chuckle, completely unfazed that you’re talking to a serial killer. To you he’s still Foxy, the guy you met in a bar in Mexico, and got a little too attached to.

“To answer your question, I’m not going to turn you in. This won’t change much. Besides, I always did have a thing for bad boys”

[fragmentedshards]

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? (Foxy Coltrane x Reader)

Summary: It’s Halloween, 1985, and your Little Red Riding Hood costume catches the attention of the Midnight Wolfman himself.

Note: Female (incredibly unhinged) reader. Foxy calls the reader “Red” because of the Halloween costume, not due to any physical descriptors. I've literally been working on this since February🫠 Anyway, this is for all the old man fuckers out there🖤 Except if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Discussions of canon typical violence. Sexually explicit content involving semi-public play, oral sex (m. receiving) and light roleplaying elements.

October 31, 1985

As soon as you walked into the bar up the road from your place, you immediately wanted to walk out. Having no other plans for Halloween night, you figured you could make the best of going solo. Wore a cute little costume to see where the night led you. Somehow you ended up in a bar where no one else was dressed up for the holiday that called for it. At least, not to the extent you were. Sure, it was a mass-produced Little Red Riding Hood costume you bought on your way home from work, but you made it your own with some makeup and cute heels you dug out of your closet.

You trudged over to the bar, soon nursing your drink and your hurt feelings. With your lip pouted in a slight sulk, you looked around, hoping to catch someone’s attention. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a man approached. Dark eyes locked on you. Sly grin on his face. Older, handsome in a scruffy way that your friends always teased you for being into.

You craned your neck to look up at him from your barstool. He sure as hell had that going for him too.

“I dig your costume, Little Red.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Seems like I’m the only one here who got the memo that it’s Halloween.”

“Hell, Halloween is everyday for me,” he said.

“You got a name?”

“You can call me the Midnight Wolfman.” He threw his head back and bellowed out a howl.

Your eyes widened. Heart might’ve skipped a beat. 

Shouts and cheers punctuated the sound, a few of the bar patrons following his lead with weak howls of their own. 

He was probably crazy. Or drunk. Likely both. But fuck, why else would you have gone out on Halloween?

“Buy me a drink, Wolfman?” 

“Glad to, Red.” 

He sat down at the stool next to you, long legs splayed out as one of his boots rested between your heels on your footrest. He claimed your space so easily, you nearly forgot you’d only just met him.

Two shared shots of whiskey later, your face was warm as he leaned in to talk. His easy drawl lured you closer, knees touching, close enough that you could see yourself in his steel blue gaze. You nearly suggested finding a booth to squeeze into. 

Your mind raced with visions of him pulling you onto his lap, his big hands all over you, lips attached to your neck while the other bar patrons were none the wiser.

“Most people call me Foxy, though,” he said.

You furrowed your brows, hoping you hadn’t been fantasizing through too much of the conversation. “Foxy?”

“That’s my name. Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.”

“I like it. Sounds like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character or something.”

“Who’s that?”

“He wrote The Great Gatsby.”

“Oh yeah, I saw that one, had Redford in it. Kind of a snoozefest if you ask me. I mean, hard to follow up Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” he said. “What kind of movies are you into, Red?”

“I love horror, especially the gory shit,” you said before you could think twice. 

He grinned, giving you a nod of approval. “Right on.”

“My favorite is probably The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Have you seen that one?”

“Yeah, it was great. Reminds me of my family.”

You laughed. “No kidding.”

His smile wavered, and for the first time all night it felt like you two weren’t on the same wavelength. Had you missed something in your half-drunk stupor? Was there something he mentioned that you fantasized through?

“Um, how about you?” you asked, trying to salvage the connection. “Westerns?”

“I’m into the classics, like those old monster movies.”

“Well, you’re way more handsome than Lon Chaney, Wolfman.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m the real deal, baby.”

“I believe it.”

“Yeah?”

You licked your lips. “With a howl like yours? Makes a girl think you could eat her alive.”

“C’mere,” he growled, pulling you to him. 

His lips were on yours, wild and passionate that would keep you up the rest of the night even if nothing else happened. The way he had his hands on you, though, bringing you closer to him, deepening the kiss so you could taste the whiskey on his tongue, the very same he bought you, made you certain he wanted the night to end exactly the same way you did.

He pawed at your ass, his hands pushing up your short, red, satin skirt until your panties peaked out. You moaned when his fingers brushed the wet spot on the fabric, pushing against your clit. Fuck the notion of a getting busy in a back booth, you were ready to let him take you up against the bar if you weren’t so rudely interrupted.

“Hey, c’mon,” the bartender said, looking equally disturbed and exasperated. “You guys can’t—”

Foxy slammed his palm onto the bar, nearby glasses rattling on impact. “Motherfucker, if you don’t get out of my girl’s face I’ll crack your skull open.”

A smile twitched across your lips.

“Get out before I call the cops. Both of you.”

Foxy stood up. “Think I’m scared of some fuckin’ pigs?” Grabbed a nearby beer bottle and smashed it against the bar. Before you could blink, the jagged edge was pressed against the bartender’s throat. If anyone noticed what was going on, they sure as hell weren’t trying to intervene. “By the time they get here I could gut you like a fish.” 

A delirious thrill rolled down your spine at the gleam in Foxy’s eyes. 

“Look man, you—you don’t even have to pay for the drinks. Just go, alright?”

Deathly silence fell over the altercation, the bartender glancing between Foxy’s wild face and the broken bottle.

Do it, a dark, repressed part of you, ravenous for blood, hissed.

Foxy laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy, man.” He threw his arm around you, letting the broken bottle shatter on the floor as he led you out.

“Don’t come back!”

“I wouldn’t shit here if I ate a gas station hot dog, asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You pulled your polyester cloak a little tighter when you walked outside. Damn, you and Foxy probably looked like one hell of a pair to the people just getting to the bar.

The two of you stood in the middle of the parking lot while he lit a cigarette. “I don’t eat gas station hot dogs if I can help it. Give me indigestion. My ol’ man—well, adopted ol’ man—he used to make a mean fried chicken at his gas station,” he said, taking a drag. “Get a hankering for the stuff sometimes, and KFC sure as hell doesn’t cut it. Guess Colonel Sanders’ get-up is better than dressing like a clown, though.”

You interjected his rambling, “You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you? The bartender—”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.” He stared you down, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He took a long drag, smoke rolling from his lips and circling above his head as he asked, “You afraid of the big bad Wolfman, Red?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Mine. Yours. I don’t know—I need you, Foxy.” Your voice neared a whine. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Say that again.”

“I need you.” You tugged on his shirt. “Foxy, c’mon.”

“Yours. I can’t drive at night for shit.”

You grabbed him by the arm, practically pulling him over to your car. 

Jamming the key into the lock, you couldn’t open the driver’s side door fast enough, quickly unlocking the passenger door for him. Your hands would’ve been shaking if you weren’t gripping the steering wheel within an inch of your life as you peeled out of the parking lot the moment he finished adjusting the seat, moving it as far back as it could go to accommodate his long legs. 

“Mind if I turn on the radio?” Foxy asked.

“Sure. I don’t live far, though. Should only be ten minutes.”

He fiddled with the stations until a late night news broadcast mentioned the name Otis Driftwood. He paused before sitting back.

“‘Free the Three’ demonstrations in support of the notorious Devil’s Rejects death cult continue well into the night.”

The reporter detailed the Fireflys’ crimes, as if anyone could have missed them. Hundreds of gruesome murders to their names. You, just like everyone else in America, had been glued to the story when it broke. All work practically came to a halt when their trials were going on, obvious guilty verdicts amidst a media circus.

“What do you think of ‘em?” Foxy asked, breaking the silence.

“The Fireflys?”

“Yeah.”

You glanced at him, tearing your eyes off the road for a moment to gauge how he’d react to your answer. “I guess what they did is fucked up, but the police and military have done way worse. Like, Otis Driftwood never dropped nukes on entire cities,” you said. “Why?”

“That’s my family.”

“Really?”

“Well, Otis is my half-brother. The rest of ‘em are all adopted.”

You looked at him again. Then the road. Then him in disbelief. “Then you—“

“Told you I was the real deal, sweetheart.”

“Why didn’t you get caught?”

“I was already in the can. Crazy how that shit happens, huh?”

You hit the gas, accelerating from 50 to 85 in a flash. No cops. Didn’t matter. Foxy could handle them if there were. You pressed your thighs together. Almost considered pulling over and just fucking in the backseat. But where was the fun in that? The excitement? The vulnerability of letting a killer into your home, where you’re supposed to be safe, and hoping to god he wouldn’t see your kitchen knives and get some bright ideas? You moaned. Oh god. You moaned.

“Red?”

“I know, Foxy. I’m going as fast as I can.” Your voice was whiny, high-pitched, desperate. “Piece of shit car—”

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Is that a turn off?”

“Hell no.”

——

You nearly dropped your keys by the time you unlocked the door to your apartment, Foxy feeling you up from behind while you fumbled with them, obviously amused by your racing pulse and trembling hands.

“Cool place,” he said when he walked inside. “You got any roommates or—”

You pushed him against the front door, your mouth on his, desperate, hungry for anything he’d give you. Slipping your hand between your bodies, you cupped the bulge in his jeans. He groaned into your mouth, and you squeezed gently, feeling his cock strain against the rough denim.

“Don’t tease,” he growled.

“It’s only teasing if you don’t follow through.” You kneeled in front of him, moving to untie your cloak while he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, “leave the costume on.”

“Whatever you want, Wolfman.”

He pulled his cock from his boxers, big enough to be intimidating at first glance. But he was a killer, part of the Firefly clan, for god's sake, you wouldn't falter, instead mustering up the courage you had to even invite him home in the first place.

“My, what a big cock you have,” you teased, taking it in your hand, spreading the precum at his tip with your thumb while slowly pumping his length.

“All the better to fuck that pretty mouth with, Red.”

You licked your lips, holding eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth. Something primal about him, inherently dangerous. He’d killed people before, probably done far worse. Could change his mind at any time and cause you a world of hell. You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the ache in your core for hopes he’d take care of it if you did a good enough job. With the way he dug his fingers into your scalp, loud curses and praises falling from his mouth, you weren’t doing half bad.

“Midnight Wolfman’s got you right where he wants you, huh, Red? Turned you into his little bitch?” he taunted. “C’mon, gimme a howl.”

You whined around his cock, choking a bit when he thrust in your mouth. You liked this version of the story a hell of a lot better. No one to save you. Just you, in your Little Red Riding Hood costume, and the wolf, his crooked teeth bared as he hissed through them, grinning down at you. And you brought him there. Invited him into your home knowing he could tear you apart if he wanted to—maybe you wanted him to.

“You’re a good slut, ain’t you?” He groaned. His cock twitched in your mouth, you could feel the salty taste of him on your tongue as he came with a howl. “Take it all, Red—fuck, take it.” As if you had much of a choice but to swallow, but his praise went to your head, to your pussy. “Fuck, you’re like a dream come true.”

Pulling back, sitting on your heels, you looked up at him with a newfound predatory gleam in your eye as he caught his breath.

“By the way,” you said, acutely aware of the wet ache between your thighs, “I live alone, if you wanna return the favor.”

[fragmentedshards]

Can you write plz headcannons or a story about being Rotti Largo’s secretary in a secret relationship with Luigi?? with smut ofc🖤Thank you so much

Oof. What a predicament that would be 😆

Honestly Rotti would know about the secret relationship early on, but decides to stay quiet. Mostly out of curiosity to see how long the "secret" lasts and if one of you slip up, but also because Luigi's temper has calmed a bit since you two became a thing and is relieved at the lessening bad publicity Luigi would normally bring.

Luigi would shower you with gifts in secret, giving you passing lingering touches when you walk past him, and he would make sure to attend every function his father throws just so he can watch you from afar.

Would definitely visit his father more just so he can see you and possibly talk to you for a few fleeting moments in public.

Expect to be called into Luigi's office for a "meeting" only to be completely railed on his desk with his hand over your mouth. Grunting in your ear how much he misses you and your pussy the entire time. He would randomly pull you into a storage closet to push you down on your knees, hissing at you to be quiet while unbuckling his belt, and would also drag you to his car so he can fuck you there on your lunch break.

Would also sneak into your home or sneak you into his home. All in an effort to be with you without paparazzi or his father finding out about you two. Those times you will not be leaving the bed anytime soon. All his sexual, and regular tbh, frustrations would be released on you and there has been a time or two where you had to call out the following day because you could barely walk.

Luigi is stupidly proud of those days. Completely smug when he calls you to "check on you" and listens with a smile as you yell at him. Blaming him for the frozen ice pack you have in-between your legs to help with the tenderness.

He would cheekily send you "get well" flowers.

Despite him sneaking around both Rotti and Amber know what's going on, but keep their mouth shut because Luigi is stabbing less and his temper is being somewhat controlled.

Pavi is the last to find out and is completely blindsided.

[fragmentedshards]

I just watched repo the genetic opera do you have any pavi in a relationship headcanons ? :3

Dating Pavi Largo Headcanons ! (NSFW & SFW)

pavi largo x gn!reader

c/w - canon typical violence for repo, pavi being a murderer, pretty much all cws that apply to repo also apply here

a/n - goodness, i'm such a sucker for batshit crazy bitches. hope you enjoy! btw, i wrote this w two inch long nails so if there's some typos i apologize </3

wc - 487

(gif not mine)

Safe For Work Headcanons !

pavi is huge on physical touch! he's constantly touching, caressing and holding you- even if doing so isn't exactly appropriate for the situation.

he's also a big gift-giver, much to rotti's chagrin. he knows you and your interests inside and out and has no reservations about blowing obscene amounts of cash on things he knows you'll enjoy.

his favorite things to get you are skincare related, though! anytime he comes to see you he's most definitely got a new lotion or serum for you to try.

he loves helping you apply them, too! one of his favorite activities in the whole world is patting in your skincare or massaging in your lotion.

pavi definitely smells divine- like a deep cherry whine and expensive cologne.

pavi is very hesitant to introduce you to his family, especially luigi. he's quite scared that his brother, like always, will try to one up him or steal you away from him. even after you're well acquainted with the largo's he makes sure to keep his arm around you in luigi's presence, grip tightening anytime his brother so much as moved.

he wants you to move in with him almost as soon as you're introduced to his family. he worries greatly about your health and safety with you being out in the world and tells you he would be much more comfortable with you under the watchful eyes of the genterns.

speaking of the genterns, the lack of attention he pays them after meeting you is comical. his flirting and sexual escapades with them stop abruptly and entirely!

Not Safe For Work Headcanons !

his dick is very long, around 9 inches, but he's not very thick. don't get me wrong, he's not got a pencil dick, but it's slightly slimmer than usual.

he's a huge switch, but whatever role he falls into he falls hard.

if you're taking on a more dominant role then he's pathetically submissive, even if he may be a bit of a brat. he'll be a whining, begging, pliable mess with very little struggle.

however, if you're taking on a more submissive role, it's an entirely different story.

he's quite rough when he's dominate. he'll tug at your hair, swat at your ass, and bite at your neck and shoulders with no thought whatsoever unless you express a dislike for those things.

he loves when you ride him, regardless of who is more dominate.

if he was being submissive he'd whine and whimper with his head tilted back and his lower lip between his lips as he periodically bucked his hips up, weakly meeting yours.

if he was the dominate in this situation he'd be ruthless. dark, low chuckles would fall from his lips between groans as his nails dug into the meat of your hips, roughly slamming you down into his lap.

he's amazing with aftercare! he'd be very attentive and gentle after sex. warm bath, a massage, and anything your hear desires!

[fragmentedshards]

Hi, i was wondering if you could do a Michael Myers, Otis driftwood, The sinclair twins and The grabber x Reader, but the Reader is kidnapped or is cornered by them, and with no options left, they Surprise attack with a smooch!!!

Of course!! Thank you for the request! Also I love your profile pic its so cute!

Warning: Violence, slashers, kidnapped, kinda NSFW, blood, gore, slasher things, overpowered, mature themes, Stockholm syndrome,

Michael Myers

Since Michael has kidnapped you, you have become use to him towering over you and corning you but he usually would turn around and leave after a few minutes but today he wasn't moving a muscle. In fact he kept getting closer to you. Forcing you to back up into the wall. Starring at him you watched him become inches away from you, lowering down to become inches from your face. Forcing you to stare into his dead eyes through the eye holes of his mask your eyes glanced down at the lips of the mask and before you knew it you threw your arms around his neck and smashed your lips onto his. You held onto him tightly as he sprung up faster then his typically movements. Michael quickly grabbed your arms forcing you to let go. As your feet hit the floor your furrowed your eyebrows at him, upset at the lose of contact. Michael quickly left the room, he was more confused than he had ever been.

Otis Driftwood

You had been stuck in Otis's bedroom since the first day he kidnapped you. Otis has tortured you for weeks now, but it wasn't as bad as what you seen him do to other victims within the house. Besides you were the only victim in his bed now...which is scary by itself. Today was like any other, you woke up chained to an empty bed. Sitting up you rubbed your sleepless eyes and pulled at the doll like dress he forced you to wear. You hated it, it was short and itchy but it was better then being naked all the time. Your head shot towards the door as you heard him barge in carrying a unconscious girl in his arms. You sat up on your knees looking to see who the girl was. "Who is she?" You asked a bit demanding. Otis shot his head up at you. "A new pet.." You widened your eyes and quickly stood up on the bed and shook your head. "No! Get her out of here!" You shouted. Otis chuckled a bit watching you before turning and placing the girl on a chair, tying her up. "Otis get her out of here." You demanded stepping down off the bed. Before you knew it Otis grabbed your throat and forced you back onto the bed. Falling down you caught yourself on your elbows. "Now listen mama, I don't rightly care for your attitude." He stated shaking you a bit. "Maybe I need to remind you about your place here hm?" He asked but seeing that his threats weren't phasing you made him more mad. Otis pulled his bloody knife out from its holster on his hip but before he could do or say anything you grabbed his hair by one of your hands using the other to balance yourself on the bed. Pulling him down quickly you smashing your lips onto his. Otis didn't pull away he chuckled into your kiss as he kissed you back roughly. Before you knew it your dress was being cut off with his bloody knife. Once your dress was off he pushed his knife onto your neck. "Come on mama, lets finish what you started." He stated as he ushered to his belt with his free hand. Quickly nodded you did exactly what he wanted, your fingers undid his belt with ease. Otis was a bit shocked by your eagerness but he wasn't about to stop you anytime soon. But he did know one thing your lips were much sweeter when you kissed him willingly.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent favored you ever since you rode into town. He actually thought you would have wanted his twin brother more than him but when he saw you running into the wax museum trying to hide within his work he felt a sense of happiness he had been searching for. So when he came out of hiding, gently pushing you into a corner of the museum, smiling a bit to himself when you didn't shout out a blood curling scream. "Help me." You stated softly starring at his waxy face. Vincent tilted his head in confusion. Weren't you scared of him? Vincent grabbed your hand and pulled you into another room then through a door and down the wax steps. Pulling you into his workshop. Luckily there wasn't any projects down there at the time. "You make them?" You asked softly as you looked around. Vincent stared at you before walking closer towards you. "T-That man out there is trying to kill me.." You stated as you watched the man. Vincent pointed to himself. Shaking your head you stated. "No, not you. The mechanic, I think his name is.." You stopped trying to think before you knew it you were pushed against the wall. "Hey?" you stated looking at the man. "I'm sorry, thank you for helping me." You stated before kissing the man's waxy cheek. Vincent quickly backed up and stared at you. Starring back you watched him point towards a bed within the corner. Nodding you walked towards the bed and sat down as you watched the man nearly trip up the stairs and slamming the door.

Bo Sinclair

Bo chased you down and jumped on you like he's down countless times to several different victims. The more you squirmed the more he liked it. He flung your small figure over his shoulder and carried you into his shop and down to his little makeshift dungeon. Bo slammed you down into the chair in the center of the room and was surprised when you didn't fight back or tried to get up and run. Regardless Bo still tied you down with duck tape. You breathed deeply trying your best to calm yourself down. Bo quickly grabbed your jaw and forced you to stare at him causing you to whimper a bit. Bo smirked a bit as he stared down at your lips. "Look at the way those lips curve." he stated in his deep country accent. Without thought you leaned up and smashed your lips onto his, Bo didn't stop you and didn't push away he simply kissed you back a bit rougher then you were. As you pulled away Bo bit your bottom lip and tugged it a bit before letting go and pulling away. He watched you lay your back down against the chair, once again Bo smirked and chuckled. "Don't you worry darling we'll get there. Just gotta be patient girly." His words made your face heat up turning your glace away from him, he chuckled and stood straight. You eyes wondered you him, watching him grab his keys and head to the door. But before closing said door he glanced up at you with the most lust filled eyes you've ever seen. You knew exactly what was gonna happen once he got back but for once you were excited to see him come back.

The Grabber

Sitting on the mattress you stared at the door. Today was the day you knew it. You knew you had to get out of there. Feeling yourself slipping into what felt like madness. You were so strongly conflicted, you despised your captor but in another light you were weirdly attracted to him. You liked the way his hair framed his masked face, you enjoyed the way his fingers moved and how comforting his presence could be. You picked at the skin on your fingers thinking about how soft his lips were before being interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking and opening. You watched him walk in with a tray of food. The same as always eggs and a soda. "I made you some breakfast." He said like every other day. You nodded and walked over towards him. He looked down at you, watching how your eyes glanced at the stairs behind him. He tilted his head a bit. You could have swore he read your thoughts because as soon as you darted behind him he dropped the tray and grabbed you up. But to his surprise you didn't fight him or scream. He growled and walked towards the mattress but as he tried to throw you down he noticed how you hung onto him. He pried your hands off of him. "Stop! Don't!" You shouted as you fell to the bed but you quickly grabbed his shirt pulling him down a bit just to wrap your arms around his neck and smash your lips onto the masked lips. Kissing him you didn't care that it wasn't his actually lips. This was still him and you loved it. The grabber was taken back but he let you kiss the lips of his mask. Once you stopped and pulled away looking at his blueish brown eyes. "Don't leave me." You stated as you hugged him. Albert furrowed his brows but he let you hug him placing a hand on your back.

__________________________________________

Wellll thank you for reading! And I hope you guys enjoyed! I loved this request! Thank you again for it! 🖤🖤

[fragmentedshards]

yandere alphabet for chop top please??

🥀Yandere Alphabet-Chop Top Sawyer🥀

THANK YOU THANK YOU PATTING YOU ON THE HEAD ANON HE'S BEEN INFECTING MY HEAD ALONG WITH NUBBINS

!Warnings!: yandere trope, spoilers for Tcm2, stalking, obsessive behavior, violence, murder, manipulation, cannibalism, sadism, mentioned violence towards darling, forced affection, threats

Yanderes are OK in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not example of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He's very intense when it comes to showing affection. Always all over you, grabbing at you, always needing to touch you in some way. The very few times when he's not he's pacing around rambling about how much he loves and admires you. Or he's shoving an item he thinks you'll like in your face, not bothering to clean the bloodstains of the poor victim he snagged it from off.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He's a cannibal. His whole family are cannibals too. Need I say more? Blood, guts, bones, all of it! He's more than happy to kill someone for you! More than happy to try and feed them to you too.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He'll keep you cooped up in his room, giving you basic nessecities. Any cries and protests from you make will be met with smart-ass comments, jokes, or him just giggling at you and making mocking gestures.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yep, he'll force feed you food that's almost guaranteed to contain human parts, forced acts of affection like hugging and small pecks, cuddling if he feels bold enough to do so.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He's pretty open, often unintentionally, he just rants about whatever is on his mind, sometimes about you, sometimes stories about his brother, existential crises, or sometimes just honest to god nonsense. He isn't one to think before he talks.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He finds it pretty funny. You think that's gonna actually going to get you anywhere? Mocking your attempts, treating it like a game.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's a game to him. A challenge. Don't think that means he'll go easy on you. He's still trying to keep you from escaping, he'll slash at your legs, your back, trying to incapacitate you. He sees it as a game because he's confident he'll win. Until he's not. That's when he drops his joking attitude.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The whole thing is hell, but there's a few moments that will certainly be burned into your brain. One being the burning feeling on your skin as you were so close to escaping, only for him to wrangle you back into their home.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He's thought of many things. Many little delusions bouncing around in his head. The only thing he has set in stone in his mind is simply having you by his side, hopefully as somepoint willingly.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Very jealous. He'll lash out. Incoming mail! A swift sledgehammer to the person's head!

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He acts like an excited rabid dog. Raving on about how much he adores you, how you're his fave. He likes dragging you around the tunnels of the abandoned amusement park too, showing you off to his brothers. Seeing you as something worthy to brag about.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

I'd barely call it courting. An approach, well, it sure is one. He's very blunt and upfront, just kidnapping you pretty quickly. However if he were to try and court you beforehand it would involve a lot of gift giving.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really. Besides that facts he's more affectionate.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He'll do whatever he knows scares or upsets you, wether it be shouting, showing you a horrific sight, injuring you, taking away what little privileges you may have earned. It also depends on what you did as well.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Essentially all of them. You can earn maybe a few small ones, but major ones are gone.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

His patience can switch on a dime, depends on his mood, the day, and what buttons you press. So I'd say he has a mild amount of patience.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you leave and or escape he's searching everywhere for you, hounding his brothers about it too. Even if it takes him years. If you die.. he won't move on. He won't accept it. He'll keep your corpse and talk to it. Just like he did with Nubbin's body.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

The most he'll ever feel is a tiny bit of pity, but guilt? No and no. He'll never willingly let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

A mix of his childhood and upbringing in the sawyer household along with curiosity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He finds it cute in a sick way. Using it as an excuse to get pyshcially close to you, under the guise of trying to comfort you. That's what good partners do right? Comfort each other?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well, cannibalism.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There's none I can particularly think of. He's practically glued to your side. Only time you could really sneak off is when he's off killing or having a spat with his brothers.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yep, especially if you're trying to escape.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He worships the ground you walk on. He'd go great lengths to keep you. He dosen't care as much for winning you over, but he definitely would still make an effort to do so.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

At most maybe a couple months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Unintentionally, most likely.

-----------------------------------------------------

[fragmentedshards]

yandere luigi largo headcanons?

🥀Yandere Luigi Largo Hcs🥀

!WARNINGS: spoilers for repo, yandere trope, toxic relationship/dynamic, power imbalance, power abuse, peer pressure, mentioned murder, violence, threats, outbursts, harassment, stalking, vulgar language, excessive swearing at the end, mentioned unwanted flirting, threats towards reader, blackmail, degrading behavior, mentions of Luigi taking advantage of readers insecurities

Yanderes are OK to enjoy in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not examples of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. They are horrid. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

● Oh boy. Where do I start with this man.

● To lay down the basis you're dealing with an temperamental, violent, egotistical, stand offish, man child who's constantly bickering with his siblings over who's going to inherent their fathers company.

● A company that mind you has a lot of money and a lot of power in this dystopia future the movie is set in. A future where they control all surgeries, medicine, and can legally send repo men which are essentially assassins if someone dosen't pay their debt.

● Unfortunately you've caught his eye. Now he's shoving aside all the people around him he may have been having affairs with and focusing on you. He feels he's entitled to you. A terse no won't deter him. It'll just make him pout and his face sour like a spoiled rotten child. He also makes it very obvious he likes you. With crude flirting and suggestive comments. No matter if they don't work.

●How could you not like him? Luigi Largo? He's the smartest and the toughest! (Or so he thinks.) You're lucky to have his attention if anything! The whole ordeal is your fault in his eyes. You're the one who made him fall in love with you! And now you have the audacity to say no? You simply just don't understand what you're missing.

● More bodies will drop than usual, and we're talking about the same man who stabbed someone over a coffee, and someone else for getting his shirt stained. Quite viciously too. Someone looks at you in a way he dosen't like? Someone bumps into you? Hell someone makes small talk? They're another one of his casualties.

● They'll just be brushed aside and covered up. After all his outbursts while scary, are common in geneco. Just more bodies to harvest organs from in the grand scheme of things to the company. You probably even get accustomed to hearing his shouting echo through the building.

● The only person he won't throw rampages over being near you is his sister Amber, even if they bicker she still means a lot to him. If its his brother Pavi however then it probably will result in a pyshcial altercation.

● Forces you to go out in public with him. Go ahead get ready. What? You're going with him to the opera. Don't want to? Too bad. You're practically being pyshcially dragged. Arms linked as he flaunts you around. He wants the public to get the idea that you two are a thing. Hoping it will pressure you into actually making it official.

● If that doesn't work he'll go farther. You have a payment due that you can't pay? He could always make it dissappear.. if you don't maybe some family or friends desperately need to. It would be such a shame if one of you had to die.. of course he'd never actually let your organs get repossessed. Although your loved ones are more than on the table.

● He'll hire some people to try and dig up some dirty secrets and embarrassing things. Holding it over your head. Imagine what it'd do to your reputation. What people would think of you. The disgusted looks you'd get on the streets. If you really don't have any ruining secrets he'll just find another way to break you down.

● You have insecurities? He'll sure as hell take advantage of them. Do you think anyone's gonna love you with those? You think you're annoying, he'll agree. He's the only who puts up with his. Don't you see he's the only one who sees past all those? No one else is going to want to date you. So why not just stay with him huh? (Btw yall are beautiful and amazing no matter who you are take care of yourself)

● If all of that still dosen't make you cave in i wouldn't push it past to him some big outburst and full out threaten you. Screaming at the top of his lungs how dense you are, how ungrateful you are, how you're doing this to make him pissed, how he'll make your life a living hell. He may love you, but as per Mark it up, "Luigi don't take shit from no one!"

● "You ungrateful fucking shit! You should be honored I want to fucking be around you! Maybe you need a damn lobotomy so you can get it through your dense fucking skull!"

-----------------------------------------------------

[fragmentedshards]

yandere luigi largo headcanons?

🥀Yandere Luigi Largo Hcs🥀

!WARNINGS: spoilers for repo, yandere trope, toxic relationship/dynamic, power imbalance, power abuse, peer pressure, mentioned murder, violence, threats, outbursts, harassment, stalking, vulgar language, excessive swearing at the end, mentioned unwanted flirting, threats towards reader, blackmail, degrading behavior, mentions of Luigi taking advantage of readers insecurities

Yanderes are OK to enjoy in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not examples of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. They are horrid. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

● Oh boy. Where do I start with this man.

● To lay down the basis you're dealing with an temperamental, violent, egotistical, stand offish, man child who's constantly bickering with his siblings over who's going to inherent their fathers company.

● A company that mind you has a lot of money and a lot of power in this dystopia future the movie is set in. A future where they control all surgeries, medicine, and can legally send repo men which are essentially assassins if someone dosen't pay their debt.

● Unfortunately you've caught his eye. Now he's shoving aside all the people around him he may have been having affairs with and focusing on you. He feels he's entitled to you. A terse no won't deter him. It'll just make him pout and his face sour like a spoiled rotten child. He also makes it very obvious he likes you. With crude flirting and suggestive comments. No matter if they don't work.

●How could you not like him? Luigi Largo? He's the smartest and the toughest! (Or so he thinks.) You're lucky to have his attention if anything! The whole ordeal is your fault in his eyes. You're the one who made him fall in love with you! And now you have the audacity to say no? You simply just don't understand what you're missing.

● More bodies will drop than usual, and we're talking about the same man who stabbed someone over a coffee, and someone else for getting his shirt stained. Quite viciously too. Someone looks at you in a way he dosen't like? Someone bumps into you? Hell someone makes small talk? They're another one of his casualties.

● They'll just be brushed aside and covered up. After all his outbursts while scary, are common in geneco. Just more bodies to harvest organs from in the grand scheme of things to the company. You probably even get accustomed to hearing his shouting echo through the building.

● The only person he won't throw rampages over being near you is his sister Amber, even if they bicker she still means a lot to him. If its his brother Pavi however then it probably will result in a pyshcial altercation.

● Forces you to go out in public with him. Go ahead get ready. What? You're going with him to the opera. Don't want to? Too bad. You're practically being pyshcially dragged. Arms linked as he flaunts you around. He wants the public to get the idea that you two are a thing. Hoping it will pressure you into actually making it official.

● If that doesn't work he'll go farther. You have a payment due that you can't pay? He could always make it dissappear.. if you don't maybe some family or friends desperately need to. It would be such a shame if one of you had to die.. of course he'd never actually let your organs get repossessed. Although your loved ones are more than on the table.

● He'll hire some people to try and dig up some dirty secrets and embarrassing things. Holding it over your head. Imagine what it'd do to your reputation. What people would think of you. The disgusted looks you'd get on the streets. If you really don't have any ruining secrets he'll just find another way to break you down.

● You have insecurities? He'll sure as hell take advantage of them. Do you think anyone's gonna love you with those? You think you're annoying, he'll agree. He's the only who puts up with his. Don't you see he's the only one who sees past all those? No one else is going to want to date you. So why not just stay with him huh? (Btw yall are beautiful and amazing no matter who you are take care of yourself)

● If all of that still dosen't make you cave in i wouldn't push it past to him some big outburst and full out threaten you. Screaming at the top of his lungs how dense you are, how ungrateful you are, how you're doing this to make him pissed, how he'll make your life a living hell. He may love you, but as per Mark it up, "Luigi don't take shit from no one!"

● "You ungrateful fucking shit! You should be honored I want to fucking be around you! Maybe you need a damn lobotomy so you can get it through your dense fucking skull!"

-----------------------------------------------------