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thesevenwondersofawitch · 6 months ago

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I Like You Better Here | Tiffany Valentine x Nica Pierce (Chucky Series AU)

Takes place after s3 of Chucky, tw: blood, threat of violence, mention of torture/murder, past torture/violence, toxic relationship, sexual themes

Also available on AO3:

Background: Tiffany inevitably possesses a human body again and decides to use this as a chance to try and win Nica over since Nica won't recognize her now. So, Tiffany finds a coffee shop Nica frequents, and just so happens to be in the same place as her. Tiffany starts off slowly, quietly waiting in line behind Nica(and memorizing her order), or getting a coffee and observing her out of the corner of her eye from a table, having a laptop or pad of paper in front of her as if she's working

Eventually, after the machine used to make Nica's coffee breaks (Tiffany of course had nothing to do with it breaking mysteriously, nothing at all) and Tiffany uses this moment to slide up next to Nica under the pretense of her waiting in line for her own coffee to be made, and makes a offhanded joke about how of all the days, today is the one where the machine breaks or something similar in an attempt to get Nica to laugh(it doesn't work, but Nica does glance at her with a small tilt of her lips and giving some sort of sarcastic reply) before Tiffany can say anything else, her name(or a false name belonging to the body she inhabits) is called as her coffee is ready. Tiffany wants to continue to talk to Nica, find some kind of excuse to stay around her, but she holds herself back, reminding herself to be patient and not press the younger woman, so that it isn't suspicious.

This eventually leads to Nica acknowledging Tiffany more when she sees her in her usual spot, normally with a polite smile or a small nod of greeting before she wheels herself out of the shop, each time Tiffany smiles flirtatiously, and each time wants to go after Nica, but she holds herself back, telling herself to behave

Finally, after a few months of this, Nica rolls up to where Tiffany is reading on her computer (or pretending to read), Tiffany gives herself a moment to get into character before looking up, a welcoming smile on her lips as she greets Nica.

Nica asks about what Tiffany is working on as she seems to always be at the coffee shop, and Tiffany gives a small laugh as her eyes sparkle, jokingly inquiring if Nica has been stalking her. Nica shrugs and doesn't confirm nor deny it, and gestures to Tiffany's laptop, asking again what she's working on. Tiffany, having been waiting for this for months, explains that she's been reading about criminal law (because after she was sent to prison there was no way she'd take the risk of being caught again) or something else, and then the two start talking a bit more before Nica says she has to leave. In the following weeks, Nica would start to stop by Tiffany's table more, eventually they would end up spending hours talking about things aside from whatever Tiffany is reading, and Tiffany really starts to learn more about what Nica's interests are and what she's been up to in the years since the Jennifer Tilly kidnapping/murder spree, and Tiffany sinks into a comfortable routine

Eventually, Nica asks Tiffany out to dinner, and Tiffany offers to cook for them, which after some careful thinking, Nica agrees to. Nica has Tiffany meet her at her apartment (Nica doesn't mention that this is because she has weapons hidden all over the place in case somehow Chucky comes back to mess with her).

Tiffany shows up with the required foods needed for her recipe and gets to cooking, she compliments Nica's outfit or something, and can't help but look at Nica often as she works, she doesn't mind that Nica lingers in the kitchen as Tiffany talks about random things, Nica watching her intently when she's working with the knives, nor does she notice the slight crease in Nica's brows when Tiffany moves in a way that is too like herself and not the person she's pretending to be.

When the food is in the oven, Nica offers Tiffany something to drink, which Tiffany accepts with a bright smile and a joke as Nica watches her with a predatory focus as Tiffany takes the glass of wine. "Do I make you nervous Nica?"

Nica, who hadn't realized that her eyes had slipped down to stare at Tiffany's fingers as they wrapped around the stem of the glass, quickly glanced up to meet Tiffany's eyes, she settled back in her wheelchair, trying to appear cool and collected as she answered with a small shake of the head. "No."

Tiffany's lips tug up at the corners as she leans back against the counter, her arms crossing so her chest is pushed up a bit, with her glass in one hand she watches as Nica's eyes follow her movement.

Tiffany's stare is intense, and Nica quickly takes a drink and looks elsewhere as she realizes that she was caught staring at Tiffany.

"Thirsty, maybe?" Tiffany can't resist teasing Nica, who suddenly feels a laugh bubble out of her.

Tiffany smiles triumphantly, and when Nica meets her eyes, there's a fire in them, and suddenly it feels very warm in the room as the sound of the oven fades and the two women are left at opposite ends of the room, locked in a stare that neither one can bring themselves to break.

Tiffany feels warmer than she does in a bath, or even when she's been burned alive, the burn she feels is a pleasant one, one that can only be tempered by the woman across from her, and suddenly, Tiffany's self restraint snaps; she wants to touch Nica, hold her, make her fall apart so she can put the pieces back together.

She doesn't remember putting her glass down and crossing the room, but suddenly she is standing in front of Nica's chair, almost afraid to blink as she sees the same fire she feels is reflecting in Nica's eyes. Tiffany opens her lips, her mouth feeling very dry all of the sudden, and means to ask Nica if she can kiss her, but she only manages "Nica-" before the woman in question roughly grabs Tiffany by the neck and pulls her down to her level in a kiss that leaves Tiffany breathless.

Nica's prosthetic hands are cold as one fists in Tiffany's hair and the other - which had dropped her wine glass or set it aside (Tiffany wasn't paying much attention nor did she care) - gripped Tiffany's hip roughly. Tiffany's own hands quickly move to frame Nica's face, - whether to ground herself or prevent Nica from leaving, Tiffany isn't sure, - and gasps against Nica's mouth as Nica pulls her roughly into her lap.

It isn't a comfortable way to sit, as it is very cramped and Tiffany has to keep stopping herself from panicking mentally over whether she may be too heavy on top of Nica, but as Nica swallows Tiffany's gasps and uses that as an opportunity to slip her tongue into Tiffany's mouth, Tiffany feels all the worry leave her body as she melts against the younger woman.

Nica's kisses are bruising and far from gentle, she kisses like a woman starved and kissing Tiffany is the only way to sate that hunger. Tiffany isn't complaining, and gives as good as she gets, biting just shy of drawing blood and moves to fist her hands in Nica's curly hair, tugging her as close as possible, as if trying to get Nica to become one with her soul.

She had dreamed about this - admittedly in a different setting - more times than she could count, and still she was unprepared for how much she'd become addicted to it, to Nica. Tiffany knew now that choosing to come back into Nica's life as somebody else was the best decision, and she knew that nothing could keep them apart now, not even Chucky. She just wishes that Nica could know that it was Tiffany in her lap, Tiffany who had cooked her food and listened to her stories all these months, that Tiffany had changed for Nica.

It's ridiculous. Nica thinks, this woman is capable of murder, has murdered, hell, even framed Nica for her and her husband's crimes. And yet, something draws her to Tiffany, it was toxic and twisted, but there was a part of her that loved the woman, even despite all her crimes. She should kill Tiffany for everything she's done, right now while her guard is down, it had been her plan after all, ever since she figured out two months ago that this woman was really the murderess who kidnapped her, but now that the opportunity presented itself, Nica couldn't bring herself to do it.

Tiffany was capable of compassion, she had a conscience, she cared deeply for those she loved even if it was a tad obsessive, she may be impulsive and a bit of a sociopath, but she was human too. And before my brain fully caught up with her, Nica had pulled Tiffany down into her lap and was kissing her in a way she had never kissed anyone.

Tiffany was very receptive in her lap, Nica would become more harsh and Tiffany immediately moaned her approval and responded eagerly, leading to the younger woman quickly figuring out what Tiffany liked.

The pair separated for a much needed air break, neither knew how long had passed since Nica pulled Tiffany in, but both women's heads were spinning from lack of oxygen.

Nica kept her eyes closed, not sure if she'd back out of this, whatever it was, if she saw Tiffany, and truthfully she was much too bothered to deny herself what she wanted. And right now, what she wanted was Tiffany.

Tiffany on the other hand had her eyes open as she remained only a few inches away from Nica, her eyes hungrily taking in the image in front of her, as if she was about to wake up from a dream and Nica would be gone. Thoughts and worries getting stronger in her head, Tiffany shifted in Nica's lap, her hands combing gently through her hair, Tiffany dropped one hand to cup the back of Nica's neck, fingers playing with the hair at the base of her skull.

Nica's arm tightened around Tiffany's waist, and Tiffany couldn't hold back a low growl-like moan. Tiffany adjusted herself in Nica's lap again, gasping as Nica dug her nails into the fabric of Tiffany's dress.

"Nica, please, please love, please," Tiffany breathed out.

Nica held back her smirk, and moved to push Tiffany's hips down harder in her lap. "Nicaaaa," whinnied Tiffany as Nica refused to let her move. Nica smirked and opened her eyes as she leaned in closer to Tiffany, whose eyes had fallen shut.

"What? What do you want? Tell me."

Tiffany bit her bottom lip, eyes still shut as her face twitched, Nica watched it all, taking a keen interest in her small tells.

"I want you, please Nica, touch me, please." Tiffany whispered breathlessly.

Nica couldn't help but lick her lips as her mouth became dry with Tiffany's words, the older woman had her eyes shut and was breathing heavily. Nica was quickly debating her options, but the way that Tiffany spoke in a begging manner, that it was Tiffany who sat on her lap covered in small bruises and bites, Nica realized that she felt so powerful in this moment, and boy was she screwed because there was something addicting about it.

"Please." Tiffany whispered one last time, so quiet Nica almost didn't hear it. She could see that Tiffany was starting to doubt herself, and so she made a decision that she would probably curse herself for later. Moving her right hand, Nica lightly ran her fingers down Tiffany's side, causing the woman to shiver.

Leaning forward to the whisker in Tiffany's ear, Nica felt Tiffany twitch as her breath brushed against the shell of Tiffany's ear. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Tiffany was starting to get excited, but Nica had to keep her guard up, and really, she should take advantage of this moment and just kill Tiffany, but her hands have other plans, as one moves to grip Tiffany's wrist, her thumb swiping the inside of it before her hand slowly drags upwards.

Their faces are close enough to touch, and each feels the others breath on their face as their eyes meet. Tiffany's mouth parts, her breathing slightly shaky and before she can say anything, Nica suddenly surges forward and crashes their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

She swallows Tiffany's gasp as Nica's hand on her arm brushes the strap of her dress off her shoulder, while Nica's other hand creeps around Tiffany's neck and grabs a fistful of hair and pulls.

Tiffany gasps as the kiss breaks and moans as her head is forced back, one of her own hands quickly moving to grab onto the back of Nica's neck, as if to ground herself as Nica lunges to attack Tiffany's neck with her mouth.

Nica really does attack Tiffany's neck, as she sucks and bites Tiffany's fair skin hard enough to bruise, not that Tiffany is complaining, quite the opposite actually. She is a mess in the younger woman's lap, her hand at the base of Nica's skull, her fingers gently running through the hair there as she closes her eyes. This continues on for several minutes, until Tiffany can't take it anymore and whimpers the younger woman's name, the hand not on Nica's neck moving up between them, towards her chest.

"Please Nica, please," Nica's name is a whisper on her lips, and Nica smirks into her neck.

"Please what, Tiffany? Show me what you want." Nica purrs into Tiffany's ear as she uses her grip on the woman's hair to force her to look her in the face. Tiffany with glazed eyes doesn't acknowledge that Nica used her real name, or maybe she just didn't catch that part, too wrapped up in herself to pay attention.

Immediately Tiffany's hand that had crept up between them moves to grab Nica's right hand, gently she slides it over a small tattoo on her breast, and Nica pushes her prosthetic hand to cover the older woman's own, and then she squeezes.

Tiffany's lips part with a gasp, her eyes boring into Nica's as Nica moves her hand gently over the tattoo, Tiffany's hand trapped between her own body and the smooth skin of Nica's prosthetic.

Nica tries to keep her head about her, tries once more to get herself to go back to her plan, but as Tiffany stares at her like she's the best thing she had ever laid eyes on, Nica feels the small part of her brain, the one that had been trying to hold onto reason, falter. She knew she should hate this woman, truly she did, and she wanted to, but she couldn't, and she makes a decision that seals her fate: she lets herself let it all go, just for this moment. Just once (for now), she would let the past be in the past, and she would let herself be in this moment with the murderess, let herself feel something other than loneliness or guilt, and as soon as that switch flipped in her brain, Nica stopped holding herself back.

She ceased all her previous actions, making Tiffany whine as Nica dropped her hands so she had use of them again. Tiffany was very confused, unsure if she had done something wrong and quickly felt panic and anger at herself for pushing too soon. But before she could speak, she fell forward against Nica's chest, catching herself with her hands on the back of Nica's chair: she quickly realized that Nica was wheeling them somewhere else in the house, and both excitement and slight fear choked her, preventing her from speaking.

Nica wheeled them quickly with the skill of someone who had years of upper arm strength through the kitchen into the hall, and then to a room at the end with its door open. It was slightly difficult with Tiffany's combined weight straining the chair, and Tiffany pressed against Nica, but Nica managed to make it to the room and proceeded to go right up to the foot of her bed.

Confused, but starting to realize what Nica was planning, Tiffany let Nica push her off her lap and then back onto the bed. "Lay down." Nica commanded and Tiffany felt a rush of excitement and quickly shuffled back on the bed until she hit Nica's pillows. She wanted to offer to help the younger woman, but refrained, instead watching open mouthed as Nica expertly lifted herself out of her chair and onto the bed.

Nica never once looked away from Tiffany as she pulled herself up to where Tiffany was laying by the pillows, and she couldn't help but feel like she was Nica's prey as Nica stared her down, holding herself back as Nica came to sit on Tiffany's hips. For a few moments, neither moved nor spoke, she desperately wanted Nica to touch her, or kiss her, or even hurt her, and she could tell that Nica was well aware of this, but she kept Tiffany trapped, frozen in place and completely at her mercy, while Nica remained calm above her, seemingly content to torment her.

"Nica -" Tiffany began, her voice shaky, only to be stopped by Nica who placed a finger to Tiffany's lips. "Shhhhh," Nica whispered, voice rough as she still stared deep into Tiffany's eyes. Tiffany immediately shut her mouth, watching in wonder as Nica gave her a small smile before moving to lift her shirt over her head. Tiffany felt her mouth go dry as more of Nica's skin was revealed to her, sure, she had seen it before, many times in fact, especially when Chucky controlled Nica's body, but this was the first time that it was Nica who was showing herself to her, unabashedly and with confidence.

When Nica tossed her shirt aside and looked back at Tiffany, she started to fidget under the woman's piercing gaze, and for a moment, Nica thought she could see green shining through the grown eyes of the woman below her. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly feeling self conscious (okay maybe she did know why, but still she would rather not remember those moments from her past right now, thank you very much), but all worries disappeared as Tiffany spoke.

"You're so beautiful." Tiffany said in awe, daring to move her hands to rest on Nica's waist, half expecting Nica to shove her away. But Nica didn't shy away from Tiffany's touch, and seemed to melt beneath it as her face turned scarlet, giving Tiffany a burst of confidence. She let one of her hands slowly move up over Nica's ribs and over the sides of her blue lace bra, with the goal being to cradle Nica's neck and pull her down for a kiss. Before she could do that however, Nica grabbed both of Tiffany's hands and raised them above her on the pillows, a grin lighting up her face in an almost manic way, making Tiffany's heart race faster.

"Not so fast Ms Valentine," Nica's eyes glittered dangerously, and Tiffany, who had been holding her breath under Nica's intense stare, felt herself freeze as her brain finally caught the name Nica used.

Suddenly, Tiffany's mind was abuzz with panic as she realized that not only had Nica used her real last name, but she had also called her by her first name more than once, and Tiffany had been too distracted by the comfortable weight of Nica's body on top of hers to notice.

Nica noticed the change in Tiffany's eyes, and her grip on Tiffany's hands tightened, feeling a sense of power and delight at the small glimmer of fear that flashed in Tiffany's eyes at the action.

"How did you figure it out?" Tiffany whispered.

Nica raised her eyebrows, as if amused that that's what Tiffany is asking in that moment. "You called me Sweetface. No one but you had ever said that."

"Nica-" Tiffany began but Nica cut her off. "Wanna hear a secret Tiffany?" Moving slowly, Tiffany shakily nodded, "s-sure."

Nica shifted on top of Tiffany, leaning down to whisper in Tiffany's ear, "I'm not gonna kill you."

Tiffany's lip trembled, "you're not?" Her question came out in a breathy whisper and a small glimmer of hope sparked in her eyes.

"No." Nica said, leaning back to look Tiffany in the face, "I think I'm gonna keep you right here."

Tiffany knew she should still feel fear, especially given everything she and Chucky had put Nica- through, but instead she felt a thrill at Nica's words, warmth spreading from her cheeks to her toes.

"Why?" The words slip past her lips before she can stop them.

Nica smiled. "Because, I Like You Better here than if you were dead." She used her other hand to gently brush Tiffany's cheek.

"I admit that at first, when I realized that it was you, I had it all planned out. I was gonna lure you here," Nica released Tiffany's hands and used the hand that had been holding them to pull herself prop herself up so she could hover over Tiffany's face. "I was gonna torture you, slowly, and just before you would lose consciousness, I would stop. This would repeat everyday for however long I wanted, making you wish death would finally free you from me." She continued conversationally.

Tiffany was flushed as she listened to Nica, a fire burning deep in the pit of her belly as Nica told her all the ways she would've tortured and killed her. Nica licked her lips and smirked as Tiffany's eyes followed the motion, not seeing the look of self satisfaction in Nica's eyes as she watched Tiffany lick her own lips subconsciously.

Settling herself fully on top of Tiffany, feeling the silky fabric of Tiffany's dress against her exposed stomach, Nica brushed her thumb over Tiffany's bottom lip as she continued speaking. "When you finally accepted that this was your life now, that's when I would finally kill you, in the most painful way I could think of." Tiffany's lips parted, her eyes burning into Nica's as she moved her head slightly so Nica's finger slipped into her mouth.

Nica felt the smirk fall from her lips as the heat that pooled inside her lit up like a live wire. Time seemed to slow as the two women stared at one another, and then sped into overdrive as Tiffany, who had not moved her hands from their position over her head despite Nica releasing her, grabbed onto Nica and in one swift movement flipped them as she crashed her lips against Nica's.

She swallowed Nica's gasp of surprise, using the opportunity to slip her tongue into her mouth, hands moving to cradle Nica's face in a far more gentle way than the aggressive nature of their kiss. "Take this off." Nica growled as they separated briefly, her hands moving to tug at the bottom of Tiffany's dress. Tiffany was all too happy to do so, quickly pulling the offending fabric up her body before tossing it somewhere to the side as Nica recaptured her lips.

Despite all the horrors that surrounded their past together, Nica and Tiffany had a whole future ahead of them, admittedly most of it would be spent in Nica's apartment, but neither seemed to mind.

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bugz4killz · 1 year ago

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Under the sheets

“Gimme summa-that, will ya?”

You grimaced. Who the-what the- how- it rang quickly through. Charles Lee Ray was in your bed and you couldn’t remember why. Looking down, you still had clothes on and you thanked whatever the fuck was out there for that notion. But still better yet, why was he in your goddamn sheets.

“Why are you in my bed, Chucky.”

He grinned slightly into a scowl, grabbing the water.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He answered, crunching the plastic water bottle slightly and drank.

What a… a nosey little prick..!

“Yeah, I asked, dumb dumb. Why are you in my fucking bed?” You grimaced, held the sheets tighter around you, implying something that you left unsaid. Charles stared at you, perturbed.

“Oh-ah! Come on,.. Really? You think I’d do that. To you- of anyone. I’m a serial killer but I’m not a fucking monster.”

“You were animated and brought to life through dark magic. Doesn’t that make you a monster?”

“Your mom fucked your dad and magically made you, does that make you a fucking monster?”

You huffed, turning away from him. Every time you talked, it was just arguing. What was this fucker still doing in your house? You wanted him out. Out of your bed, out of your life.

....

“Oh brother.” You griped, rolling your head back. “This is becoming a giant favor.”

“Do you consider living a giant favor?” He scoffed.

“Uh. Stop twisting my words. You always do that- stop it.” You complained, staring at him dead in the eyes.

“You’re such a whiny brat.” Chucky huffed.

Read the full story on ao3!

#chucky #charles lee ray #chucky series #chucky fanfiction #childs play #charles lee ray x reader

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anarchy-n-glitter · 9 months ago

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Bring the Pain

Summary: Daphne Napier used to date Charles Lee Ray when she lived in Chicago... or at least he told her they were dating. He taught her everything she knew, helped her become the person she is today, and she truly believed he loved her. Then he died. Alexis Quinn lives in Hackensack, New Jersey with her girlfriend Tess Monroe. (Chucky/Charles Lee Ray x OC/reader) Words: 4,480

(CHAPTER 2 HERE)

A/N: I have finally finished chapter 1 of Daphne's fic thank u chucky season 3 <3333

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ１

She was cleaning their apartment when she found it.

Alexis had a nice apartment. It was larger than most Jersey apartments, with nice hardwood floors and four bedrooms. It was on a higher floor of a very nice building, in an even nicer part of town that made her question why Alexis hung around people like her and her friends. The furniture inside was older and made of dark oak wood, with deep gem colors and a velvety texture, and in the center of the living room was a large rug made of white fur - she still wasn’t sure if it was real or not. The kitchen had marble counters and stainless steel appliances.

When she had been invited over for the first time a couple of months after meeting Alexis she tried not to show her shock and awe. After all, she never would have guessed Alexis was rich just by looking at her. The strawberry blonde woman often dressed like one of the local goths: all black with fishnets and touches of her favorite color, which was pink, and darker makeup. Alexis described herself as punk, though, and some outfits of hers fit that description, but the moment she saw where she lived she dismissed the idea of Alexis being anything other than a young woman rebelling against her rich parents.

That night, Alexis confessed that she had a crush on her, smiling bashfully yet hardly hiding that seductive look in her emerald eyes under the low light of her fireplace.

“I like you.” She said so casually as everyone around them chattered amongst themselves. There were probably twenty other people there that night, Alexis called it a small house party, and she secretly wished she went there alone. The music was blaring. Her dark eyes widened with shock as she leaned forward.

“What?” She choked into her red cup.

“I said I like you, Tess.” All the brunette could do was blink in shock. The admittedly intimidating woman smiled widely and dropped her head as she laughed, her strawberry bangs covering her eyes.

“You don’t do this often do you?” She chuckled. Tess’s face grew redder than a tomato as she stumbled over her words, trying to regain her composure and save her dignity. “Tess.” Alexis’s green eyes shone with amusement, like a cat that was playing with a mouse, but her tone was serious.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Her tactic seemed to work though, it got her into bed, and it was the start of their relationship.

Three years passed and now Alexis was out every night doing god-knows-what and she was stuck at home cleaning. Her mother would laugh at her, remarking that “she always knew Alexis was the man in the relationship” in her usual spiteful tone before lecturing Tess on how she was right and she needed a real man. Her mother never was too supportive of her or her relationships. Alexis was not the first woman she loved, and - while she was sure they’d be together forever - if it didn’t work out Alexis wouldn’t be the last either. Her mother never seemed to understand that.

Her mother’s opinions were incredibly outdated for the year 2021.

But part of her was growing resentful of her mother’s words, not just because she was not-so-vaguely homophobic, but because she was onto something. Tess stayed home all day and all night, not having to work because Alexis had it all covered somehow, and she cooked and cleaned and took care of everything around the apartment - Alexis’s apartment - while her girlfriend was out all day, sometimes all night too. She never signed up to be a housewife, and while staying home all day was nice at first, she had things she wanted to do and achieve eventually. Not to mention the fact that their relationship was supposed to be built on equality.

Make sure you get under the couches, you always forget under the couches. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head even when she didn’t want it there. Even though she hated to admit it, the disembodied voice of her mom was right, she did almost forget to clean under the couches. She started with the deep magenta one against the wall closest to the entrance, moving it onto the white rug before pausing.

There were magazines and newspapers underneath.

Each one was clearly old, with the edges of their pages bent and creased and frayed. They looked well read, with creases on the spine of each magazine. The images were faded, but she recognized the face on each one. Emerald eyes stared back at her, and the usual mess of curly hair was pulled into two low ponytails, though it was a much darker auburn color than the rosy blonde she usually sported. On her lips was a dark red lipstick, and around her neck was the same choker with the magenta gem in the center…

The title of each magazine was relatively the same, something along the lines of “I secretly dated a serial killer.” There were a few mentions of a man, Charles Lee Ray, a familiar name to anyone who lived in Jersey or Chicago. She looked on with horror but also skepticism. They all looked like tabloid trash, and she was sure her girlfriend couldn’t have been in a magazine from over 30 years ago. She became more concerned about why her girlfriend would photoshop herself into a magazine claiming to be a dead serial killer’s mistress…. but the magazines felt old… too old to be faked.

She pushed a strand of thin, brown hair back behind her ear as her hand shook.

She placed the magazines to the side and looked at the newspaper. In big, bold letters it read:

“ACCOMPLICE TO LAKESHORE STRANGLER ACQUITTED”

with a picture of the same woman walking down the steps to a courthouse. On either side of her were her lawyers and a security guard, and she was dressed like Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny, with a sleek black dress and a baggy leather jacket. She was hiding her face from the people who waited outside, flanking either side of the barricaded steps, flashing cameras and hurling words at her from the looks of it. She seemed to be the same age as Alexis.

The article inside mentioned a slew of things she’d never read up on before. She was familiar with Charles Lee Ray, and the events in 1988, but she’d never heard of Daphne Napier. She supposed if she was acquitted most people didn’t find it interesting enough to talk about her in podcasts or discussions online, and she wasn’t really into true crime so she wouldn’t have known either way, but something about this new story kept her wanting to read more. The article said she claimed she had been in a relationship with his other accomplice, Eddie Caputo when she was only seventeen, and when she realized what exactly her boyfriend was doing she tried to get away. She then claimed the two killers held her hostage for four years, and while she said she never did any of the killing herself, she admitted to being forced to help them get away and clean up their messes.

The images made her sick to her stomach. They were uncannily similar to Alexis in every way, and for some strange reason, deep down she feared the woman she’d come to love was not who she claimed to be. She couldn’t bear to look inside the magazines, wondering just what Daphne might have said to those publishers as opposed to a judge and jury. She supposed it wasn’t good.

The sound of keys jingling in the hallway and the door unlocking startled her.

“Tess? You up? I’m home!” Alexis’s (or could she even call her that anymore?) thick brooklyn accent sounded from the hallway. Tess froze, still holding the newspaper in her hands as large, black boots with pink laces came into view. Her gaze traveled up the length of her fishnet-clad legs and the rest of her body, where she met that same emerald stare from the cover of the magazine. Tess’s eyes filled with tears as Alexis tilted her head like a curious dog.

“What’cha got there?” She asked with no hint of malice or even nervousness. Tess looked down slowly at the paper, then back at her girlfriend. She had no idea why she felt so frightened. She opened her mouth to speak and found it hard to put the words together. At worst, her girlfriend is somehow much older than she looks and claims to be, with a different name and a past filled with serial killers. At best she’s just a true crime nut who has the hots for Charles Lee Ray. She honestly hoped it was the second option, that was much easier to deal with.

Her mouth was dry. “I don’t know what this is” was all she could muster. Alexis took another step forward, looking over Tess’s shoulder with that same look of innocent curiosity. She furrowed her brow.

“That’s me.” She stated simply, as if the very idea that a picture of a woman 30 years ago was actually her wasn’t earth shattering for Tess. The brunette let out a small whine.

“What?” Emerald eyes met her brown ones. Alexis smiled again.

“That’s me. Daphne Napier is me.” She doubled down in a completely serious tone, pointing to the newspaper and magazines. She must have lost it, Tess thought, or maybe I have if I’m starting to believe her.

“Daphne Napier was twenty one when this article was published. You’re almost twenty five.” But you haven’t aged a day since we met. Alexis, or Daphne, smiled to herself, the look of innocence gone. Her smile seemed malicious and bitter. She put her hands on her hips and began to pace the foyer.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” The way the cherry blonde laughed sent shivers down Tess’s spine. “Look, Tess, there’s a lot that you don’t know about me, there’s a lot I haven’t told you.” She stopped and gestured between the two of them.

“I thought we had something special.” She sounded heartbroken. Tess stood, grabbing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) hands in hers.

“We do!” Tess exclaimed, bringing Alexis’s (Daphne’s) cold fingers to her lips. “We do.” She reassured her, whispering against her flesh. “I just don’t understand.” There was a change in her girlfriend’s eyes, something more sinister replacing the sorrow.

“I really liked you too, I was hoping we could keep doing this for a few more years.” She was laughing but hardly smiling. There was something deep down that told Tess to run - to get out of there before she got hurt. But Alexis would never hurt her… right?

This wasn’t Alexis though, and Tess could never be sure Alexis ever existed. This was Daphne Napier, a woman who was most likely a monster in her own right.

“We can.” She ignored the warning signs, that feeling deep inside, to appease the woman she’d come to love. She hoped there was some truth to the Alexis persona, and she hoped there was something to save here. “I’ll forget I saw it, I promise. Your name is Alexis Quinn.” Tess muttered. She wasn’t sure if she was saying to appease the erratic woman in front of her or if she was trying to convince herself.

Tess could feel her heartbeat in her throat as her stomach turned uneasily. She couldn’t hold Alexis’s emerald gaze any longer. Who are you, Alexis? She thought to herself uneasily. Who am I? What are we doing here?

Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is Alexis Quinn. Her name is…

“I’m sorry.” Tess could barely react before something was smashed against her head, and she fell to the floor. Daphne stood over her, watching silently to make sure her (soon to be ex) girlfriend was truly knocked out. She glanced at the old, iron doorstep in her hand and sighed as she dropped it. It collided with the wood floor with a loud THUD!

Blood began to pour from the large gash in the back of the brunette’s head, like the crimson halo of a fallen angel. Daphne sneered at the girl, Fallen’s right, don’t know about any angel though. She knelt down and felt at Tess’s pale-growing-paler-by-the-minute neck, cold fingers searching for a pulse. Weakly, the brunette reached out for her wrist, for comfort from the person she once loved so dearly. Daphne pulled her hand back quickly.

“I hate it when they don’t see it’s over.” She huffed, sadistically mimicking the cadence of a valley girl in a high school drama. “The best exes know when it’s time to move on.” She whispered, her voice shifting to something more soothing as she tauntingly ran her fingers through Tess’s thin strands. Her other hand reached for the doorstep beside her.

“Take a few notes from the other guys and drop dead already.” The iron struck the side of her head quickly and without mercy - the cracking sound her skull made would be sickening to anyone less than a pro, but luckily Daphne was just that.

“Alright, Damballa, this one’s a little early so you gotta work with me, here.” She muttered as she gripped the pink gem on her choker. She swore it glowed ever so softly whenever she did this, though she could never prove it. With one hand raised to the sky, she spoke with conviction.

“Ade due Damballa…”

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Chicago, Illinois

1988

It was true. Daphne felt sick to her stomach.

Her emerald eyes were locked on the man in front of her; disheveled with stubble along his chin, tousled dark hair, and a brown coat wrapped around his wiry form. The black fingerless gloves on his hands almost completed the look. He looked like a bum.

“You left him there?” Her voice was weak and shaking, hiding the anger and sorrow that lurked beneath her porcelain skin. Dark eyes looked her up and down, which only served to fuel the fire that raged in her gut. She wanted to drive the screwdriver that laid on the dirty, broken counter into his eye. The hideout was a mess, and she assumed it was because neither her nor Tiffany had been around in some time. From what she heard, Chuck seemed to have found someone new.

She would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt.

“I haven’t seen you in god-knows-how-long and this is the first thing you wanna talk about? Anyway, what’s that around your neck? You get into gaudy jewelry lately?” Was all Eddie could muster. Daphne glared at him as she clutched the pink gem on the golden necklace she had bought from some lady. The gem was valuable, the necklace itself… not so much. She would have to make something more suited to her style.

Everything else was the truth, though, he hadn’t seen Daphne since she stopped seeing Chucky. Part of him thought she was dead - thought Tiffany had gotten to her or maybe Charles got bored before…

Either way, Daphne stood before him, dark lines of mascara running down her tear soaked cheeks with smeared lipstick upon her perfect, plump lips. Her dark apparel seemed appropriate - he guessed she saw the news, though she always dressed like that. It was part of the reason Tiff stopped dressing like an uptown brat. Daph’s auburn hair was as fiery as the day she left. Winter fire…

Fire was all she was as she seethed in place, clenching her fists. Large, black boots stomped on the ground, taking Eddie out of his thoughts.

“No. No, you are not changing the subject. You left him there!” She screeched. She was so angry she could tear him apart with her bare hands. She fought the urge to wrap perfectly manicured fingers around his thin neck. “You have - no, had - one job! One fucking job, Eddie!”

“The cops were closing in on us, Daph.” He began, taking that same patronizing tone he used to use when they argued when they were dating. It only made her angrier. Made her heart ache more.

“Oh wait, I forgot, you only care about him, right?” That was the last straw. Her fist pounded on his chest.

“He was our friend you fucking asshole!”

Eddie grabbed her wrists, pulling her even closer. Daphne felt like she could collapse then and there. Her legs felt like jelly, her head heavy and hazy as she tried to focus through the barrage of tears that flooded her eyes. She had never felt so many emotions at once before… it was terrible and smothering. “He was a bit more than a friend to you, though. Isn’t that right, Daph?” She pushed herself away from him and stumbled backwards before collapsing to the ground, heaving.

All she could do was wail, feeling the rawness in her throat and the heaviness in her chest. Every move she made reminded her she was still here, still breathing, still alive.

She was alive, unlike Chucky, and that was what hurt the most. She thought the worst thing he did to her was leave her… she had a whole other thing coming.

“Shut the fuck up.” She muttered through the tears, wiping lamely at her cheeks.

“Tiff put an end to that one, didn’t she?” She bit her tongue at that one, glaring up at the cowardly man in front of her through blazing bangs.

“I didn’t know about that! He insisted they weren’t together anymore, he said she was crazy!”

“He was only half lying, then. What a good guy!” Eddie spouted sarcastically. Daphne rolled her eyes.

“What we had doesn’t erase the fact that I still care…” She trailed off, biting back the tightness in her throat and tears that swelled in her eyes as she realized her mistake. “Cared about him.” She choked.

“I cared about you, Daph.” Eddie crouched down beside her. Daphne scoffed and crossed her arms, scooting away from him ever so slightly as she fought the urge to laugh bitterly in his face. “No, really, I did. I mean, Charles had a point, dating you when I did was bad news but he was only saying that cause he wanted you for himself. I thought you were beautiful, intelligent and so wise beyond your years.”

“C’mon, Eddie, we both know that’s bullshit.” She sniffled, rubbing her slick nose with the sleeve of her magenta cardigan. He knew she was referring to his accusation.

“Is it? He tells me to dump you, and I send you away cause of it. You turn nineteen, start coming back around, and suddenly he’s all over you.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t still a little bitter.

“I was almost twenty.” Daphne exclaimed with conviction, ever the naive teen he met all those years ago. He rolled his eyes at her. “I didn’t just turn nineteen when I got together with Chuck. Anyway, it’s not like you’re much better.” She got to her feet, towering over the gaunt man in her platform boots.

“Don’t try to take the moral high ground when you dated a goddamn seventeen year old!” She continued, rubbing in the little fact Eddie conveniently left out of his manipulation. Daphne was sixteen when she met Eddie, and she was indeed seventeen when they decided to make things official.

She thought she was so cool back then. Now she knows what happened.

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered as he stood.

“At least Chuck had the decency to know that was fucked up! He respected me.” Daphne crossed her arms and looked away, her eyes focusing on the screwdriver again, if only for a moment. She thought of Chucky in that moment - thought of the way his sky colored eyes seemed to soften at the sight of her, the way he would smile at her and guide her hand while he taught her to slit someone’s throat, the way he corrupted her in the sweetest and most sinful ways and the way he whispered loving words in her ear, holding her closer and closer until…

“He loved me.” She stated in a voice no louder than a whisper, and in her heart she knew it was true.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Eddie spat, throwing his hands up in frustration as he pushed past her. “You sound like Tiff.”

That was the last straw.

Daphne was quick to grab the screwdriver from the counter and plunge it into Eddie’s open palm, ripping through the cheap cotton blend and tearing through his flesh. He pulled away from her grip, her hand still firmly wrapped around the tool as she withdrew it, blood dripping off the rusted metal and onto the dusty floors. Eddie cradled the wounded hand close to his chest, his dark eyes wide and focused on her as he monitored her closely, making sure she wouldn’t drive the rusty tool into his neck next.

“Don’t you ever compare me to her! I’m my own person, Eddie!” Daphne screamed before turning around. She felt the anger bubbling in her chest again, the red that blinded her vision. She could kill him right then and there, and she felt she would be justified.

After all, he did kill her best friend.

(Her best friend who hadn’t spoken to her in a year. Her best friend who basically pumped and dumped the moment things got too complicated for him, regardless of how she felt.)

“I’m not some bumbling, insecure psycho idiot who tries to be someone else when my man loses interest! I at least know when to take the hint and walk away!” Spoken like someone who wasn’t completely and utterly insecure - no, not at all, she thought to herself. Daphne’s feelings toward Tiffany were complicated. She did feel bad about what she inadvertently did to her, yet part of her was still angry at the woman. After all, had she not threatened to kill Daphne, her and Chucky would still be together.

Would being the other woman be enough for her, though? Would she truly be happy with the small stops and little visits that resulted in sex and not much else?

She paced around the kitchen like a caged tiger - unpredictable and dangerous, as usual. Eddie missed when Daph wasn’t so comfortable with killing and maiming.

In many ways Chucky changed her for the worse.

A sudden calmness came over her eyes, practically glazing them over as a smirk made its way to her smudged lips. She dropped the screwdriver.

“Hope you got your tetanus shot, babe, you’re probably gonna need it.” She began as she turned on her heel, leaving Eddie trembling in the corner to watch her slink out the front door.

Along the way, Daphne seemed to miss a little boy walking down the street alone, hugging his Good Guy doll close to his chest.

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

Hackensack, New Jersey

2023

Daphne was tired. Things were starting to get a bit desperate now that it had been two whole years since she killed Tess.

A soul can only last as long as the amount of time she spends sweetening them up. Unfortunately for her, she was beginning to run out of time with no one new lined up to take Tess’s place. Sure, a one night stand here and there could give her a few more days, but the amount of people she would have to sleep with in order to stay young for another year while she lines up the next poor sucker would be too damn many.

The amulet of eternal life was complicated like that - it needed a soul to sustain a soul.

God, it made her sound like a vampire.

Spiritual vampire, she used to muse cheerfully to herself as she would consider taking another life for her own. The souls would keep her young forever, or at least that’s what she thought. It took only a few more wrinkles near her eyes for her to figure out she needed a connection with the souls the amulet collected.

Now she was a fucking black widow.

She was grateful for a few of her exes, though, like the older rich man Boris. He’s the reason she didn’t have to work anymore, and the reason she was living in the apartment she was. Once she got rid of his brats, and sweet talked him into putting her into the will, she killed him. Best three years of her life, though. The gowns and gifts were to die for!

But Tess was different.

Daphne hadn’t felt so alive in a long time. In a lot of ways, Tess seemed to fill the hole Chucky had left over thirty years prior. She was wonderful and kept her on her toes, even if it wasn’t in the usual exciting way Chucky used to. She managed to make Daphne laugh, made her appreciate life again…

And she supposed that was why she struggled to find a new victim. No one was Tess… or Chucky for that matter.

Her apartment was dark and empty, with no one around to liven the place up. Daphne was out all day and night searching for someone… someone to love, someone to hold, someone to consume into her own being when the time was right.

God I hate dating! She thought frustratedly as she slid down the surface of her front door.

Then, in the darkness, she heard something drop. It sounded like one of her books, but she couldn’t be sure. She pressed her lips into a thin line and straightened up, feeling irritation and anger in her core. Oh, whoever decided to try and rob me tonight is in for a bad fucking time. She thought bitterly. To her right was the iron doorstep, the same one she used to kill Tess, and though its metal handle burned her skin with the thought of what she did with it, she still crouched down to collect it.

Its weight reminded her of her sins, but it excited her all the same.

Daphne cautiously moved into the living room, where the blaze of a small fire illuminated the area and she saw the silhouette of what looked like a child sitting in her armchair. Confused as to how she missed the light from the front door and why a child would even be in her apartment, she wavered in her stance, lowering the iron.

The tableside lamp clicked on, and before her sat an aging Good Guy doll.

Red hair tousled and ragged, with smile lines around his thin lips and bags under sky blue eyes that used to stare at her lovingly, Daphne knew exactly who this was.

“Hiya doll.” Chucky greeted in his usual raspy, sarcastic tone. “It’s been a while.”

#chucky x oc #chucky x reader #chucky spoilers #charles lee ray #charles lee ray x reader #charles lee ray x oc #chucky fanfiction #brad dourif

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funtimeisparty · 2 months ago

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barclaysangel · 6 months ago

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If Junior was at Lochmoor with Nica AU

Well well well…another Junior AU. I know, I have a problem. But watching Nurse Ratched gave me the idea of 10 year old Junior being at Lochmoor with Nica. Does it make sense logically? Most likely not. Did I write it in less than two days? …definitely.

This AU just wasn’t leaving my mind at all so I had to write it and here it is! It’s a bit long but I’m quite proud of how it turned out. I’m not sure if this is gonna be an actual fic, most likely not, but maybe I’ll write a series of oneshots for this AU. I do have a few ideas so if you guys like this, including on how to bring Andy in and how Junior and Nica get out of Lochmoor, so please let me know if that’s something y’all are interested in! I thrive off comments, they fuel my motivation!

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 3K

Tags: @nicascurls @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl @streets-in-paradise @zelinksupporter

Junior got used to the hospital.

It was often cold and many of the patients there were scary, but he knew how to keep quiet and sit alone in a corner, drawing whatever came to mind to keep himself occupied until the next round of medicine and shocks.

He didn’t know if he deserved all of that, deserved to be the only child in a big and terrifying hospital. But those patients committed crimes and he, in a way, did too.

It just felt like Junior’s life fell apart. Maybe it always was falling apart. His dad was strict with him, forcing him into doing cross-country, forcing him to eat less, always forcing and controlling him. But his mom was there, trying to keep him safe the most she could.

Then she died. And he was so painfully alone. Junior wishes he could remember what happened during the time of her death to ending up at the hospital, but it was like a blur. He remembered just bits and pieces of everything.

The funeral, everyone dressed in black.

His bedroom, perfect and clean before being destroyed and broken from a fit of rage that he didn’t remember.

His trophies from cross-country shattered.

The biggest trophy with specks of blood.

Blood on the back and side of his father’s head.

The doctors say that Junior had “psychosis”. That he was experiencing “manic and depressive episodes” despite his very young age, the tragic death of his mother triggering those “episodes”.

His father said that he was a dangerous “psychopath” who tried to kill him.

Junior hardly knew what any of those words meant. To him, it just meant that he was crazy and a monster who could hurt anyone at any given moment, so he had to be sent away.

Sent away to Lochmoor at barely ten years old.

It was hard at first. He hated the way the “vitamins” made him feel, not to mention the shocks they would put in his head. It would leave marks on his temples and make him feel overall terrible. The nurses had to put Junior on his side after each shock session since he would vomit in his sleep, he apparently almost choked to death before when he threw up while lying flat on his back after the very first time he got shocked.

Some days he wished he did die, then he wouldn’t need to keep being in such a scary place.

Then other days, it wasn’t too bad. He could be left somewhat alone, drawing with some paper and crayons they would allow him to have. Junior was never the best at drawing, all the art skills belonged to his cousin, Jake. But the more he drew, almost every single day, the better he started getting at it.

I guess Jake was right. Practice does make perfect. Junior thought to himself and then got sad to remember that he wasn’t going to be able to tell Jake that and deal with his cousin annoying him about how he was right.

He hardly spoke to anyone there, mainly only a couple of his doctors. They wanted to know what made him “snap”. He told them what he remembered, how controlling his father was and how he was even afraid of him.

But Junior could tell that they didn’t believe him. That his father was a good and smart man, that he would never do those things or that his “mania and depression” misinterpreted the things his father did.

Maybe they were right. His brain was sick after all, maybe his father wasn’t as bad as he thought he was.

Junior didn’t know anything and for the next three months, he kept to himself. He minded his own business, drew whenever he could, took his vitamins, but still cried and tried to run whenever it was time for the shock sessions. Not to mention how he cries himself to sleep every single night, wishing he was dead and buried beside his mom, staying with her instead forever and ever.

But this was his life now. At least until the doctors finally tell him he’s better. But he doesn’t know when that will ever happen. So for now, he stays still.

Then a new patient arrived, a woman with dark curly hair in a wheelchair. Junior recognized a new face easily, growing more and more observant the longer he stayed in Lochmoor. It wasn’t anything too new for him, even when she stared at him like she was confused as to why he would be there.

He got that look a lot, because of his age. He still feels like he should get some kind of award for being the youngest patient at Lochmoor.

But she would always smile and wave at him, even at times where she looked afraid or upset. For the first few days, Junior didn’t return the smiles or waves. He would keep drawing and try to ignore her stares. But something about her felt warm and kind, a feeling he had forgotten about after so long of not feeling it.

Eventually, he would wave back at her. And then, after nearly two weeks, he did something else. Junior got up, walked toward the woman, sat down on the floor near her wheelchair, and continued his drawing. He did all of this silently, not knowing what to say since he was so used to just not talking.

It didn’t take long for her to take the initiative.

“Hi.” The woman said, her voice gentle and light, as if she was being cautious.

Junior didn’t say anything for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Hi.”

“What’s your name?” She asked him next.

The entire time, he was keeping his eyes on his drawing, grabbing a black crayon. “Junior.”

“Nice to meet you, Junior. I’m Nica.”

Junior finally looked at her, the corners of his lips turning upwards, the most he could smile nowadays. “Nice to meet you too, Nica.”

The woman–Nica–smiled at him, that sweet and soft smile he had seen her send to him before. The more he looked at her, the more he noticed the scar on her forehead, angry and red, but healing. He didn’t say anything though, he went back to coloring and figured he would be doing it in silence.

“How old are you?” Nica asked after a few seconds, making Junior think for a moment.

It was getting harder for him to remember the days and the months, sometimes it felt like his brain was getting fuzzy and foggy.

“Ten. Ten in September. That was…last year, I think. I’ll be eleven this year.” He finally responded, adjusting his position so he was sitting in a more criss cross position.

“You’re a child…” She said, sounding shocked and almost confused. Or horrified? He couldn’t quite tell.

Junior looked at her and merely shrugged his shoulders. “I know. But I can handle it.” He said simply and began coloring in his drawing, scrunching his eyebrows together in concentration.

“Can I ask what you’re drawing?” Normally, he would be annoyed that someone kept interrupting him. But she spoke lightly to him, so it didn’t make him as upset as he would usually get.

Maybe the treatments were actually working afterall.

“My mom.” Junior said softly, finishing off coloring her black hair before putting the crayon down and grabbing the magenta crayon.

“She looks pretty.” Nica said, noticing her peering down to look at the drawing. It wasn’t perfect, far from it. Again, he wasn’t an artist. But he tried to draw her the most, almost everyday, so he wouldn’t forget what she looked like.

“Yeah…yeah, she was…” He replied, his voice sad as he stared at the picture. Junior took a deep breath, not wanting to start crying in front of someone. He tried to think of his father’s words instead.

Don’t be such a pussy, you’re a man! Act like it! It seemed to work for the time being, clearing his throat and began using the magenta crayon to color in his mom’s dress.

Junior figures that Nica was going to ask him next what happened to his mom, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say a word. Maybe she already knows somehow, just by that small bit of reaction that he had.

Whatever it was, he was grateful that she didn’t say anything.

He was quiet still, his movement slowing down before looking up at Nica. “Do you…wanna draw too?”

She looked a little surprised at his request before smiling again, nodding. “I would like that, thanks.”

Junior nodded and passed her one of his other pieces of paper and other crayons that he had. They spent the next few minutes doing that, silently drawing by one another’s side. It was kind of strange to Junior but not enough to make him want to leave. For some reason, it was almost…nice. Nice and comforting and peaceful.

It was almost like he had a friend he’s known his whole life.

“Your drawing is really good.” Junior said after a moment, looking up to see the different types of flowers she drew.

“Thank you, I’ve had years of practice.” Nica said with a smile as Junior began drawing a sun in the corner of his paper.

He drew suns a lot since it feels like it’s been years since he got to feel the sun hitting his face.

“Junior…can I ask you something?” She asked him hesitantly.

“Mhm.” He mumbled simply, already suspecting what she was planning to ask him, the same as some of the other patients.

“Why are you here? You don’t seem dangerous at all to need maximum security. You’re just a kid.”

And because Junior expected the question, he answered as honestly as he would with the others.

“Because I tried to kill my father.”

The silence was loud enough to hear a pin drop. But since Nica wasn’t leaving him yet, Junior decided to continue.

“That’s what they said I did. I don’t remember. Something about a ‘psychotic breakdown’. Whatever that means. I think it’s just a fancy way of saying I went crazy after mom died from cancer and tried to kill my father but he was able to stop me. I didn’t mean to try and kill him. I think I just wanted him to stop controlling me. I wanted to be free. But now I’m here for…I don’t know how long. It’s been some months now. I guess we’ll see.”

Now this is the part where Nica leaves. Where she’ll come up with some excuse and then never get next to him or talk to him ever again. Because who would trust a kid who tried to murder their own father? No one, that’s who. And she was going to be one of them.

But almost a full minute had passed and Nica was still there. Maybe she was waiting for him to leave? That must be why, so Junior started gathering the rest of his crayons so he could get up and move away from her.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Nica suddenly said, making him stop and pause, looking at her in confusion.

“...what?”

“You’re not crazy. You’re just a little boy who lost his mother. Took out his pain on his father. Did you get help after your mom died? Before you ended up here?” She asked him and Junior shook his head. “You should’ve gotten help. If your father cared, he would’ve done that. You don’t deserve to be here.”

Yes I do. I’m a psychopath. He wanted to say but decided not to.

He didn’t know why. Maybe deep down, he didn’t believe he was that crazy. That he was dangerous and wanted to hurt people. He didn’t know and would probably never find out anyway.

“Why are you here then?” Junior decided to ask her this time. “You seem nice. I don’t know why you would end up being here.”

Nica looked sad for a moment, looking away as she fidgeted with her sleeves before looking back at him. “They said that I killed my family. But I didn’t. It wasn’t me, I swear.”

Junior looked at her, trying to read her. She seemed to believe it, and seemed saddened by whatever happened to her family. She seemed to be convinced that she really didn’t do it.

Or maybe Nica was crazy. But so was Junior, so he didn’t care either way.

And if she decided to snap and kill him? Then he would just end up with his mother, something he’s been wanting anyway, so he didn’t care.

“I believe you.” Junior said simply, putting down the rest of his crayons down and settling back into his original position.

Nica looked a little surprised but almost relieved. “You do?”

He smiled just a tiny bit and nodded. “Uh huh. I do. You don’t seem mean enough to do something like that. So…do you pinkie promise that you didn’t do it?” He asked, holding up his pinkie to her.

She smiled kindly at him, nodding before holding up her own pinkie and wrapping it around his. “I promise.”

Junior started to relax, genuinely trusting her, but he was pulled out of his thoughts by one of the orderlies. “Wheeler. Come on, it’s time for your treatment.”

His eyes widened, knowing what the treatments actually meant.

Shocks.

It was time for him to get shocked.

Junior whimpered quietly and started to slowly move away. “Please, please, I-I’ve been good! I’ve been good, I don’t wanna be shocked, please…” But the orderlies started to move closer so he put his cross-country skills to use.

He sprung up and bolted.

He knew it was futile but he had to try, screaming loudly when he felt one of the orderlies grab him before Junior was able to get out of the room, now scratching and biting at the orderly wherever he could. Through his screaming, he could vaguely hear Nica’s voice, telling them to stop and to not hurt him, but Junior knew how they were. They weren’t going to stop. Not until there was a needle in his arm and his body started to shut down. He tried to hold on, tried so hard, but he knew it was better to be asleep than awake when he was shocked. And his world went black.

Unfortunately, just because he was asleep, doesn't mean he couldn’t feel anything. He felt each painful shock, making his entire body jolt, even sometimes waking him up midway only to be put back to sleep after he started screaming.

Please, make it stop. Please, please, please, I can’t take this anymore. It hurts too much, I don’t want to keep feeling this! Just kill me! Kill me! Please, please, please, please, ple–

Junior doesn’t know when it stopped. He doesn’t remember much after that. He remembered throwing up when he was back in his bed before falling back asleep, his arms and legs still twitching and jolting. It felt like he was fading away, slipping in and out, in and out, in and…

Junior didn’t know what time it was, but it had to have been getting late.

He needed to get up and go for a run.

Try to see if he could run an extra mile.

That would make his dad happy.

Yes, he would be happy.

And then maybe he could eat a little more for breakfast if his dad was happy.

It’s a good idea.

He just needed to get up right now.

“Junior?”

What was that?

It was probably nothing, just his imagination again.

“Junior, can you hear me?”

Wait, there it was again.

The voice was soft and warm, so warm…it sounded like mom’s…

“Come on, baby, I need you to wake up. You need to snap out of it, okay?”

Snap out of it? Snap out of what?

The voice did sound like mom’s but it was different.

But still familiar.

She sounded like…

“Junior? Honey?”

Junior woke up.

He blinked a few times, realizing that he wasn’t in his room, back at his father’s house. There were gray walls all around him and a certain chill to it, something that always frightened him. He was at Lochmoor. He’s always been in Lochmoor. Sitting in the very corner of the main room, his knees pulled into his chest.

How did he get there?

Did they put him there or did he walk there on his own?

He couldn’t even remember.

But he did recognize the woman’s voice, it was–

“Ni…ca…” Junior spoke slowly, struggling to find his voice, his words.

Right. He got the shocks. He remembered now. That’s why his brain was fuzzy and in pain, his insides still twisting and churning.

This was where he was now.

“Oh, honey, what did they do to you…?” Nica murmured to herself, but he knew that she knew the answer. He realized that her hands were on his cheeks, gentle and light, looking at the side of his head.

He had burn marks again, that much he knew. He had seen them before, the small burns and discoloration on his temples. They would go away in a few days, but he hated just knowing they were there.

“Hurts…it hurts…” Junior managed to mumble out and one of Nica’s hands went through his hair, soothing back the dark strands so gently.

“I know, baby, I know. Just take some deep breaths, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” She told him softly and he started to tear up.

Normally he could try to stop it, but he couldn’t now. He accepted defeat, accepted the pain he was in, but leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her knee while clinging onto her leg.

Nica didn’t move him, continuing to stroke his hair in light and soothing notions, whispering to him but Junior didn’t know what she was saying. It didn’t matter though because despite the pain, he realized something.

He wasn’t alone.

For the first time in so long, he wasn’t alone.

Junior finally had a friend and maybe he was going to be okay.

#Luna talks #admin #chucky #chucky 2021 #junior wheeler #nica pierce #chucky au #chucky fic #chucky fanfic #chucky fanfiction #If Junior was at Lochmoor with Nica AU

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nicascurls · 3 months ago

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Breaking The Dollhouse - Chapter Seven

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: What would have happened if Junior survived and was taken by Tiffany from the hospital? What would that mean for Junior and Nica over the next year?

Notes: Yes, I know. I'm awful at consistent updates, these may be slow but i promise i will not be stopping for good any time soon. There is still a lot of this story to go. Also, it's GG's birthday today, so this chapter is dedicated to them!

Tags: @barclaysangel @streets-in-paradise @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl

“I win.” Junior announced once again with a triumphant smile.

“Again?! I knew I was out of practice but this is just embarrassing!” Junior had stumbled across a pack of playing cards as he was ‘exploring’ the week before, Tiffany had grown used to Junior being more fidgety after having to stay hidden when the twins visited, since Tiffany still seems to think that it isn’t the ‘right time’ to introduce them. It certainly isn’t a lie, Junior still dreads being cooped up in his room for multiple days as the twins visit, he doesn’t blame them, only Tiffany. If Tiffany is so focused on keeping him and Nica for that matter, hidden from them, maybe they are actually pretty decent people, he’s never heard them mention Chucky. Maybe they disowned him or something and are being fooled by their mother the way he was.

The only time Junior can leave his room during those visits is when everyone is in bed and he can sneak out to see Nica. He wishes he could do more than that, that’s the main reason why he feels the need to wonder around more after the visits. Those visits continue to remind Junior of just how trapped his mom and him are, how desperately he needs to find a way for both of them to escape. They had been there for months now and Junior had memorised almost every inch of the house's interior and is still no closer to finding a way out.

As a small plus, Junior does at least find more things of use, even if that is just entertainment. Like the playing cards that he and Nica had made great use of over the past week.

“Right, come on. One more game before we get some sleep, I need to redeem myself.” Nica claimed with a smile as she gathered up the cards. Junior only gave her a judgemental look in response, “Winning one game is enough to redeem yourself after losing for a week straight?”

“Obviously! Now, you shuffle for us, I'm still kinda sluggish right now. I think Tiffany gave me a higher dose this morning.” Nica suppressed a yawn as she passed the deck over to the boy.

“Excuses, excuses.” Junior joked as he began to shuffle, “Aren’t you supposed to be the one to tell me we need to sleep as I insist on another game? You know, set a good example for me and all that?”

“Probably. But were also being held hostage by a woman who willingly married Chucky. I’m pretty sure Oogie Boogie would seem like a good influence in comparison.”

Junior let out a chuckle as he began to deal the cards once again, he knew Nica didn’t want to risk falling asleep whilst the drugs were still affecting her. He wasn’t sure exactly why, he’s assuming it’s to do with her time in mental hospitals but was never quite brave enough to ask. He didn’t want to risk bringing up bad memories for Nica, Junior just wants to make sure she’s okay.

“Um- Mom?”

“Yeah, honey?” Nica tried to suppress the buzz of excitement at being called ‘mom’ once again.

“Are you starting to feel better, now? With how much she drugged you? Like- do you know what day it is?” Junior couldn’t help but worry, reverting back to his early tactics when he first began talking to Nica.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, just waiting for the last of the fog to go. It’s uh- Sunday, right?”

“Monday. May 21st.”

Something in Nica’s eyes seemed to change for a moment then, she looked distant, almost haunted. “Monday, okay…” She took a deep breath and composed herself once again, but Junior couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Junior had noticed the way Nica’s eyes were shining with tears that had begun to well up.

She sniffled slightly before answering, “Yeah, I'm- I'll be fine. It’s just-” She took another breath to help steady her voice, “It’s Alice’s birthday tomorrow. She would have been thirteen.”

“Oh.” it felt as if that was all Junior could say. Instead, he opted to gather up the cards and quickly set them aside before moving to sit next to Nica, gently resting his head on her shoulder as a form of comfort. It managed to pull a small smile to Nica’s face as she wrapped an arm around Junior’s shoulder and held him closer, brushing her thumb against his shoulder.

They’re not sure how long they stayed like that, Nica couldn’t focus on much at all. Her mind was consumed by different scenarios and ‘what if’s, all the things she could have done, even slightly differently, that just might have saved her niece's life.

Nica could remember joking with Ian about how he and Barb would cope when Alice became a teenager, if they would struggle, especially with Barb's constant claims of Nica already being a ‘bad influence’ on Alice. Nica herself could just never picture it. Not then, or now. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine Alice as a teenager, that was part of the pain. Something she once thought she would get an answer to without even realising it would now never be answered, Alice would never change from that cheerful, curious, little girl that lived in her memories. She would always be that innocent little girl who would run to her Auntie Nica’s arms every time they were reunited.

The same one that was scared of ya.

Stop it. You manipulated her!

She had already decided when I found her again!

She was confused because of what you did!

“Mommy and daddy are dead. Auntie Nica killed them.”

“Just shut the fuck up!” Junior instinctively flinched and Nica’s tone and it suddenly sunk in that she had spoken out loud.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry honey. It- I didn’t mean to snap, it wasn’t directed at you.” She wanted to reach out, stroke his hair or pull him close but was also terrified of frightening him again. She had scared him, she knew that, and hated it.

“I know… It’s okay, it just startled me. What was he saying?” She took a deep breath. “Just- a whole load of bullshit. You know how he is…”

With that, Junior decided it was best not to pry, Nica had gotten used to dealing with Chucky’s comments, even mastered the art of responding to him without saying anything out loud. Unfortunately, that also meant that it must have been something awful for Nica to snap enough that she spoke out loud without realising it. Nica herself was still quiet, Junior could tell that she was trying to keep her emotions hidden, the same way she would stay silent around Tiffany as she rambled, fearful that if she didn’t she would drop the act of believing she was dismembered and kill her right then and there with her bare hands. She couldn’t do that, no matter how bad either of them wanted it. They would have nowhere to go, Nica could try and clear her name but she would have no chance of that if she killed ‘Jennifer Tilly’ in cold blood.

It was strange, Junior never thought he would have wanted a sibling, sure he felt lonely growing up and he liked spending time with Jake when they were little kids, but he always knew that if he had had a sibling, it would have just been more comparisons made by his dad. More competition and training, a constant battle for validation from his father. Yet, hearing the way his adoptive mother spoke of her niece, he knows it would have never been like that, a part of him hopes that they would have gotten along. Granted, if Alice was anything like her aunt, he’s sure they would have. He can’t help but imagine how different his upbringing would have been if Nica had been found innocent in her trial and adopted her niece, from what he knows, Alice may as well have been her daughter anyway. Would he have still met Nica? A part of him wished that Chucky was lying, was it possible for Chucky to show Nica things he imagined and pass them off as memories? Maybe Alice could have gotten away, she was safe and hiding somewhere, maybe started going by a different name and is in a random foster home somewhere...

His thoughts were interrupted by Nica taking a deep breath, the kind he had grown accustomed to hearing when Tiffany would leave the room. As if her emotions that were fighting to get out had finally stopped pushing on the door, for better or worse.

“Right,” she sighed out, “Would you like one more game or would you rather just get some sleep, Junbug?”

“Uh, I think I would just like to get some sleep if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, honey.”

As he lay down and began to allow sleep to take over his senses, he couldn’t help but worry about his mom. He could ignore the feeling that she was trying so hard to avoid becoming like her own mother that she would end up hurting herself even more. She was so devoted to making sure that he was okay and staying strong for him that she was fighting all her grief and suffering on her own as well as fighting his grief and trauma alongside him. He had to do something, help her in some way, let her know that she’s allowed to struggle as well. That’s when the idea struck him, and calmed those worries enough for him to drift off to sleep.

Where the fuck was she?!

Junior was sure he must have checked almost every room in the house by now and yet no sign of Tiffany. It didn’t make sense, she hasn’t left the house since she brought him and Nica here, and she wouldn’t have gone to ‘visit’ Nica without telling him. But the only explanation she had given was that she just had to ‘take care of something’. He half debated going to check on Nica but it was far too risky without knowing where Tiffany was and what direction to listen out for her.

That was when he heard it, the faint noise of Tiffany’s signature cackle, he focused on the sound, following it intently to find his captor. Before he came face to face with that door, the one other door Tiffany told him to stay away from after Nica’s room. Which luckily, had stopped being off limits after it was clear to her how well he had been getting along with her ‘girlfriend’.

His curiosity got the better of him, he had to know what she was doing in there, was it more voodoo stuff. Maybe she was helping Chucky again, and decided to give him another chance considering that part of him was still possessing the woman Tiffany had ‘fallen for’.

There was another voice, but it definitely wasn’t Chucky, it was a female voice, one too small and muffled for him to make out the words through the door. It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar clicking of Tiffany’s stilettos and he rushed, at least as quickly as his heart would let him before resuming his place on the couch as if he had never moved.

Tiffany was already drunk, Junior figured he had half an hour tops before she passed out this time, that's when he would investigate. And like clock work, he watched as Tiffany clumsily placed her wine glass down as her eyelids began to droop. He gave it another five minutes just to be sure that she was out before retracing his steps to the room, his precious kitchen knife in hand.

He hesitated briefly once he was there, debating whether he should knock. He doesn’t know why, surely no one would be in there unless they had to, so he decided to skip that part and start picking the lock. He soon heard the triumphant click and slowly pried the door open and to his confusion, saw a room nothing like the one Nica was placed in. Strange. He was so sure he heard a voice, he expected the same layout as another bedroom but this seemed to be no more than a storage room. Random boxes and items coated in dust was all he could see, there had to be something he was missing.

“Hello?” Junior fought hard to keep his voice as steady as possible, if there was someone in there with him, he couldn’t let them know he was afraid. He was beginning to think he had imagined that mystery voice earlier, he was just being paranoid when there was an almost inaudible response.

“Who- who’s there?” Unlike his own, this voice had been unsuccessful at hiding the fear in it, or maybe the owner wasn’t even trying.

“Where are you?” Junior called out a little louder, still on edge but more determined now.

“In the cage- under the sheet in the back of the room.”

Junior’s eyes instantly landed on a faded sheet covering something that, at first glance, he would have never guessed to be a cage. The shape seemed too big and an unusual size for something similar to the kind of animal cages he had seen in the past but also too small for a human to fit, except maybe a small child. Oh gods, please not a child!

Junior steadied his trembling hand as it wrapped around the sheet in front of him, and drew in one more deep breath before pulling it clean away.

For a moment, he was frozen by the dozens of questions racing through his head, trying to settle on which one he should ask first. It was a cage, a huge, shining gold, old-fashioned bird cage and, somehow, that was the most normal thing that was unveiled. Sitting inside, on a lining of newspaper with a small desk behind her littered with letters and a cheque book was a doll. Another goddamn living doll, but this one seemed different, she looked almost the same as the lookalike Tiffany doll that human Tiffany had placed in the truck with the Good Guys last November. Except this one had a large wound on the side of her head with stitches holding it closed and an unmistakable look of fear in her eyes, the kind that could not be faked. Besides all those dolls from the truck burned up, fried by the explosion after Andy Barclay drove the vehicle off of Hackensack Gorge, taking himself with it.

Junior couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt that took over, he had tried to warn him, and he should have listened.

“Wh- who are you?” Junior asked, desperately trying to push through the regrets that were filling his head. The doll’s eyes hadn’t left him once, still wide and afraid as ever.

“I’m Jennifer, Jennifer Tilly!” She rushed on with her explanation before Junior could respond, “I know how that sounds but the woman keeping me here, she’s an imposter! Her name is-”

“Tiffany Valentine.”

“Yes! It’s the truth, I swear it!”

Junior held his hands up in mock surrender, “I know, I believe you. She’s trapped me here too.” With that, Jennifer finally began to calm down, at least temporarily, before some mix of a sob and a laugh escaped her plastic lips, “You know who she is. You believe me and you found me!”

Junior gave a sheepish grin as he lowered himself to sit by the cage, hesitantly placing the fingers of his right hand through the gaps.

“I’m Junior, by the way. How long have you been down here?” Jennifer took a moment to think as she reached a small plastic hand to hold his fingers as a substitute for a handshake.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you exactly. Since my babies were born, that's when she switched our souls. Do you know anything about them? My babies? Are they safe?”

“Glen and Glenda? The twins? I think so, I haven’t met them but they visit once a month. I think they’re doing well…”

There it was, the first smile Jennifer had given it what felt like years, maybe it had really been that long. There was so much more they both wanted to ask but they were interrupted by a distant crash, no doubt Tiffany knocking her wine glass to the ground in her sleep. Both prisoners tensed up, “Kid, you have to get out of here. If she finds you-”

“I know, but I'll come back later, when she’s asleep I promise. I still have a lot of questions.”

“Okay, be careful!”

“I will.” Junior gave her one last apologetic smile before draping the sheet back over the cage.

Breathe, in and out. Nica had to keep reminding herself of that, to focus on that and the birds moving back and forth, taunting her from the other side of the glass. Somehow that was more bearable than her hunger, the fog around her brain from the drugs and the unbearable itching of the dress she was forced to wear. Luckily, in Tiffany’s obviously still tipsy state, she had forgotten to draw the curtains over one of the windows, so once again watching the world go by became Nica’s source of entertainment as she waited for Junior to pick the lock.

Anything to distract her from thinking about things that should have happened on this day, including spoiling her niece rotten- No! Focus on the birds, she could just about watch them from this distance as they hop around under the glow of the outside lights. It was nice in a way, being able to see once again that there is life outside of the cage she is currently trapped in, it helps to remind her to keep going, that Junior could have a future still-

Speaking of, the familiar sound of the lock being pried open started once again. Except Junior did not confidently burst in as he had begun doing, in fact he lingered just outside of the room, almost as if he was hiding behind the door. A brief flash of terror struck through Nica as the idea came to her that maybe Tiffany had found them out and was threatening Junior from the shadows.

However, that fear quickly evaporated as Junior gave his signature half smile,

“Sorry i’m later than usual, I uh-” He slowly entered the room carrying an unopened box of brownies with him, “I was trying to see if there were any kind of cakes in the kitchen but these were the closest thing that I could find. I just thought that, even if Alice isn’t with us, it is still her birthday. I thought you might still want to celebrate her…”

Nica couldn’t stop a few tears from overflowing at Junior’s explanation, she hadn’t celebrated her niece’s birthday since the last time she spent one with her. She didn’t allow herself to celebrate it when she was in Lochmoor, the hypnosis had started taking effect and she told herself she didn’t deserve to be involved in any way. Not that she would have been allowed to do much.

“Yeah, I would like that…” It was barely more than a whisper, “I think she would have wanted us to as well, not to mention how happy she would have been. She preferred brownies over cake anyway.”

Junior allowed his smile to spread a little further across his face as she pulled two brownies out of the box. The whole experience was bittersweet but Nica couldn’t have been more grateful for it, Junior even had them quietly sing happy birthday and yet, something was still so clearly on Junior’s mind.

“Is everything okay, Junbug?”

“Yeah, mom. Uh- look. I know it’s kinda shitty timing, and I don’t want to ruin Alice’s day or anything but it’s pretty urgent…”

“Don’t worry about that, honey. What’s the matter? Are you sick?” She instinctively placed a hand over his forehead.

“No, I’m fine but, remember when we were trying to figure out why Tiffany and Jennifer don’t switch like you and Chucky do?”

“Yeah..?”

“I’ve found out why.”

#chucky #chucky 2021 #child's play #chucky syfy #nica pierce #junior wheeler #tiffany valentine #jennifer tilly #breaking the dollhouse #chucky fanfiction

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streets-in-paradise · 2 years ago

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The Original Child - Andy Barclay x Ray Reader ( requested)

Requested by @ssbptigers, based on this ask

Warnings: Posted on mobile Few editing and proofreading ( english is not my native language)

Note: Some aspects of timeline and canon events were changed to fit the request. Reader is Chucky's little sister, born when he was a teen. He ended up on the boarding school for the consecuencies of early criminal behavior and she was alone with their parents when the home invasion happened. Chucky took care of her once he turned 18 and he died at 25.

Tags:@losersclubisms

Even since the victory in Harrogate Chucky seemed to have frequent strikes of bad luck. Not only his most dreaded enemy got out, he was getting closer and closer to his plannings. As if someone who knew and resembled his thoughts would be guiding them, Andy and Kyle always had precise ideas on where to find him.

Keeping the prisoner head was helpfull, but they were also counting on someone who knew him better than them. His little sister, his first kid. The one he thought lost since the fatidic night of his death.

Loosing him was hard for you, but even worse was finding out he came back and never searched for you. An unforgivable betrayal followed by a terrible realization. Charles taught you to kill, but never why to. You have done it to survive, but the targets of his comeback had nothing to do with that.

Children, the urban legend of the killer doll was surrounded of faces that reminded you of the little child he damaged and abandoned.

One cold night, exactly like that one in Chicago, some of those faces became people to you. Two of them managed to find you, a short dude and a blonde woman that were not fully aware of what that meant.

They had no idea of who you were, but they wouldn't stop staring at you. Overhearing their talks with other people gave you an idea of what they wanted, but at that point that didn't make it less intrusive.

" HEY, THE FUCK YOU ARE LOOKING AT?? BACK OFF!"

You carelessly lightened a cigarrette, hoping they would get the message.

They didn't, the man in particular seemed to have no interest in giving up.

" Do you know Chucky?"

Intense staring crowned the tension of the moment, the peak of it when you blew smoke to his face. Kyle thought you were the most disgusting woman she had seen in a while, but something else caught hers and her brother's attention.

You turned back cackling, demonical sounding laughing they would recognize anywhere. Their first instinct was thinking you were posessed, but a Chucky wouldn't have walked out without trying to cause them any harm

"Wait! " The man followed you, desperately trying to convince you of talking. " You know him! What did it happen? What has he done to you?"

Chucky took away your life and he left you without a chance. Your life went downfall since you killed two cops while trying to escape from his hideout back when you were just a kid.

They should have never allowed him to become your guardian in the first place.

" Why the fuck you care?" You cutted off the stranger before he could keep throwing any more questions. " You don't. Stop acting like the good samaritan, that shit ain't gonna work with me. "

" We do care." The woman followed." We know what you have went through, we have been there. "

You laughed again and you couldn't help noticing their particular reactions to your chuckles.

" Save it, blondie. You have no idea. "

" Where you made an orphan? Is that how you ended up here? " She insisted. " I have been one all my life, i know about fighting to survive. My brother over here, i got to know him when Chucky made him a temporary orphan. "

" My mother ended up in an asylum because of him. " He concluided in a heartfelt tone. " More kids are on the way of getting hurted, abandoned or utilized. They need our help."

You followed in the name of your troubled childhood and the resentment towards your brother kept growing. Andy and Kyle showed you many things about him that resonated with your experience in the suffering of other children. It made you think that to Chucky you were nothing but an experiment. His prototype of subservant kid, he tested in you all the manipulations he perfected with the others.

For the first time ever, you were arround people who had a close idea of what it was to be raised by him. Andy had some troubles understanding your initial apathy, why you haven't done nothing about Chucky in all those years. Neither him or his sister knew the truth of who you were, since you gave them a fake name with a fake story making you seem a more presentable victim. They never questioned it and the hunting duo became a trio. Your help brought a productivity increasement, but the hunt also got you closer.

He got under your skin, more than what you could have dared to admit. Over time, and behind a facade of semi-mockfull teasing, you began to hide some true interest on him.

You were a pair of well intentioned psychos who just had suffered for way too long and were used to Isolation. He was impressed to find out that, no matter what he would tell you, you always seemed to have something worse to share. When he told you about how Chucky killed his foster parents, you told him about living in the streets. When he spoke about being sent to the military school, you said you spent a time in jail. Whenever Kyle was arround she would try to make that sort of talks sentimental, but you always approached things with irony and he liked that.

He discovered that he enjoyed being arround you. The more time you spent together, the less he cared about the outstanding resemblance with the enemy that once catched his attention. When he meet you, he did have the impression of being talking with another female Chucky, but that was just a shocking first impression.

You weren't like him, not at all in his eyes anymore.

The bits of progress you were making weren't ruined by Chucky because your secret was relatively safe. The dolls you found together didn't recognize you, the esence of who your brother was seemed diluted in the act of splitting his soul.

They resembled him, but Charles wasn't there completely. Some of his memories weren't there, his core personality was altered. Killing those dolls was to you like stopping a bunch of copycats, the posibility of reuniting with your brother seemed forever lost.

When the traces went cold you all ended up crashing at Andy's place, your first time in the cabin. He said that they were going to see someone there who could give the ríght push to the search and you would be of great help for that.

At the arrival there was no one to be found, what confused a little bit

" Feel yourself at home." Andy welcomed you ríght away. " It's a small place, but it will be enough for us."

" Can i borrow your bed? With you inside, i mean." You teased him and chuckled briefly. " C'mon, you know it's alright. I live in a shithole. "

He was still getting used to your particular sense of humor. The amount of inadecuate jokes per hour you would dedícate him sometimes was impressing, but the oddest part was feeling strangely proud hearing you.

It was shameless flirting and you weren't shy at all about it. Andy felt encouraged by it, knowing that at least he was sure you found him attractive.

" Can i get you something? Except for a well cooked meal, i can bring you anything."

You shared a few chuckles.

" A beer! ... and one of yours, Kyle?"

She was about to pass you a cigarrette, but he intercepted it and you groaned in protest.

" I thought you said you were going to quit smoking."

" I'll leave it when you leave the joint, hypocrite." You mocked him in return, frustrated. " I said no more smoking in front of you."

" Leave her have it, Andy." Kyle defended you. " She is going to need it. "

" For what? Since when the voice of reason is on my favor?"

" Our old friend will get on your nerves and, no offense, but you can be dangerous when someone pisses you off."

" I plead guilty of all charges, your honor!"

Andy chuckled and returned you the cigarrette.

" I would keep it for later if i was you. "

The first image that the chopped living doll head got of you showed you standing up behind Andy. Personal space was non existent, you didn't care for it and he didn't care for that.

That one doll looked very different from the rest. Scarred, severely tortured. Its eyes had a different shine, more sinister and vibrant, and those were fixated on you.

" Holy fucking shit! Is that thing still alive?"

Andy couldn't help noticing you were a bit impressed, but not necesarily horrified.

Fascinated.

" He doesn't shut up if i don't keep him gagged."

" Have YOU done this?" You asked him, in awe. " You are insane."

You rounded him with your arms, dragging him even closer to you, and peppered kisses over the section of his neck that you were able to reach in that position.

Shy smile on his face, he was barely keeping himself together.

" The plan is getting answers, but you can get some revenge in exchange. " Kyle pointed out, resigned and weirded. " Andy finds it... cathartic. "

" Sounds fun, but i don't get it." You commented, disconcerted. " None of those airheads is the real Chucky, I would have recognized him. "

" I am the real Chucky. " The doll head spoke, freshly released from the gag. " On brand an original. The real question here is... Who the hell are you?"

" I can't believe this! Charles ' I never forget a victim' Lee Ray is having memory issues." Andy began to make fun of him without hesitation. " You don't remember her, but she surely remembers you."

If that thing was your brother, if he was there for real, it was just a matter of time untill he would recognize you.

You decided to act first, hoping he would not find chances to twist the narrative and turn your new friends against you.

" Hi, Chuck! I'm Wendy. "You introduced yourself through a memory of your childhood. " Eddie used to call me like that. You said i should never reach Tiffany, so he was the onlyone who knew about me. He was terrible at babysitting, I used to have more common sense than him and i was the little one so it was me taking care of him for most of the time. You two used to make fun of me for being a know it all, i learned to read with your voodoo books. "

Everyone else lost all control of the situation, Chucky incluided.

" (Y/N)? " He called you by your real name, his voice tone showing a glimpse of heartbreak unusual on him " No fucking way! It can't be!"

He stared at Andy with an animal fury.

" YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

There was a lot to unpack, and you were going to become the center of the interrogatory.

#chucky #chucky fanfiction #andy barclay #andy barclay x reader #andy barclay imagine #alex vincent #alex vincent x reader

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