#what a nightmare charlie brown

[peanutsoutofcontext]

He was so insane for this. He is so evil

[gameraboy2]

What a Nightmare, Charlie Brown (1978)

[theplaguedogs]

[maine-isnt-canadian]

Halloween is tomorrow? Good grief. I hope everyone has a nice time, wherever you are.

[puhmpken]

Author’s Note: This one is a filler since I am still working on “Dairy of the Obsessed” ..this one was spontaneous lmfaoo! Also requests are open feel free to give me story ideas

This has BEEN edited 🥳🎉

Warning ⚠️-> If you’re under the age of 18+ DONT interact with this post, this is your only & final warning! I do not & will not take responsibility for anything further!

You have been warned

Title: A Shape-Shifter’s Dilemma

Alastor x Reader Oneshot

written + edited by @puhmpkins-blog 🎃

W/C: 5.1K 😀 oops maybe too much lol my imagination got the better of me but please enjoy!

You always questioned where Alastor your husband would go. Most of the time you would brush it off and not think of it—Overlord stuff.

But one night while Al and you slept in the same bed he tossed and turned in his sleep you could assume he was having a nightmare

“honey..?” You said in a low ruff voice as you gently placed a hand on Alastor who stops his moving before the word he mutters out was

“charlie..”

...Now that is odd. Why would a overlord like Alastor be saying the princess of hells name in the middle of his sleep?

It made you raise a eyebrow, and questioned him.

The day following did not seem to ease your nerves one bit, he again in rather ..a rush to leave the manor

Standing next to the front doors door you watched as he moved back and forth through the living room looking for whatever he was desiring

“What's rushing for darling? This is rather out of character” You said as your eyes watched him move throughout the room

“Oh nothing to concern yourself with dearie!~ Just overlord business”

You hummed back at his bland cryptic response not wanting to pick it apart–you just decided not to question it and save yourself the energy

“Right. Just don��t go get yourself in trouble” You said smiling at Alastor standing infront of you, slightly towering over you as you fixed and cleaned off any dirt or lent that got caught on his suit as he was in your words rushing around

Moving your hands away from him, your eyes locked with his as Alastor’s reddish brown eyes, a flicker of amusement dancing within them. His lips curved from a small smile into a sly smirk, revealing his pointy teeth.

“Trouble?,” he questioned, making his one of his eyebrows raise in a cocky way , “Why..thats my middle name, my dear.” He said clasping and holding both your hands as he stared at you, before shrugging “But perhaps maybe I’ll make an exception—for you.”

You rolled your eyes to your husband's playful antics, before giving Alastor his goodbye kiss and waving him bye as he sinks into his shadow disappearing leaving you alone in the manor.

A moment of silent filling the air before

“Now, let me figure out WHAT’S actually happening.”

And that’s how this whole shenanigan began with you.

You see, while Alastor might have been expected to marry some ordinary demon, you in your case, were far from ordinary. As a shape-shifting demon, you possessed the ability to transform your identity at will, becoming a whole new demon or a manifestation of whatever your imagination desired.

The only limitations were those of your own imagination or..if Alastor was able to sniff you out, thanks to his keen sense of smell. HOWEVER, avoiding detection was usually easy enough… for the most part.

Weeks to months you’ve been keeping up on this “routine” of cat and mouse but all was paying off.

You found out Al has been to much of your dismay harboring rather a couple of secrets hidden and tucked from you. Other than your known overlord stuff he was a suppose helper at a hotel called the “Hazbin Hotel” that princess charlie owns and works at with a couple of other people almost made you drop with laughter when you first seen Alastor helping out with the hotel, you had to tell Rosie about this later.

It was easy to stay undercover and even easier to get close to him without him realizing and knowing it was you.

You made up your mind weeks ago that his territory would be fine, if you step away here and there to follow Alastor to the hotel

And that’s how you end up to the present day you.

You weren’t satisfied with knowing Alastor helps at a hotel. Yes indeed it was a shocker but that’s all? You were still puzzled on why Al said Charile name to began with

Alastor hasn’t suspected a thing yet due to him kinda being busy at the hotel or up in his office.

On the rare times you would see him, he was up in the upper balcony with nifty laughing with her, you couldn’t hear what they were talking about but knowing the both of them.. it was rather something strange or gruesome

As another shifted ended, the day ended with you back at the manor seating in your comfortable loveseat, reading a book before mere minutes Al got back, making it seem as normal as possible to not raise suspicions

The next day as things moved along you wished Alastor a goodbye as you watched him shift into the shadows and disappear off.

Waiting a few minutes after he left you then began to get ready for your shift at the hotel, that first started with showering to rid yourself of your natural scents–you didn’t want to be tackled down by your husband as soon as you walk in through the door.

Finishing up with your shower you stepped out spraying some random cheap perfume you had bought to scramble Al scents.

As you began styling yourself from being a lady of the 1920s with elegant beauty and designer dresses to a ripped petite coat, old bleach stained black skirt with a hole at the bottom with a finish messy down hairstyle

You laughed at your reflection

Seeing what you looked like in your normal form made you laugh. Alastor would probably gasp and dropped to his knees at the things you wore.

You walked out the house being sure to not be seen

Successfully making it past the fenced gates and out of the woods you came to the main roads of hell shifting yourself into a hell creature you have been using for this whole little “spying game”

A lengthy white fur being that stood, 6ft having two red stripes covering both arms and legs. Your (h/c) just reached the middle of your back and on your head sat two cream colored pointy horns, you kept your sharp teeth to still be able to scare off unwanted demons if the occasion was to rise

Checking yourself out in the reflection of the glass windows, you made sure everything was correct: your look, your attire and your scent.

You started to walk to the hotel, the sidewalk you have taken at least more than ten times.

As you inched closer to the hotel you for safe measures stopped and sprayed yourself down one more time in cheap perfume emptying the bottle before tossing it off in the distances and kept walking

Getting inside the hotel was an easy task,

You said hello to everyone vaggie, angeldust, sir pentious and his eggo children, huskier and nifty.

‘Everyone is down here practically–well almost everyone’ looking around furrowing your eyebrows together

“Where Charlie? She's usually with you, Vag?” You said to Vaggie who was sitting on the couch next to Angel looking at the TV

“She should be in her office right now Lucy. I think she also wanted to talk to you” Vaggie said kinda nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders towards the end as she looked up from the tv to you as you nodded your head

Making a hum noise you turned on your heel and began walking to Charlie office

Knocking before you entered, Charlie sat at her desk looking at papers

“Helluva morning Charlie. Vaggie was telling me you were looking for me, I just wanted to speak to you about what you wanted” You said as you walked towards her desk and seating down in one of the chairs across from it

Charlie still having her go lucky smile on her face nodded putting down a couple of papers “Yes Vaggie was right! I was looking for you Lucy!” She said pausing as she slide over a little stack of paperwork, “It’s nothing serious promise! I just wanted you to run these up to Al~!”

You nodded silently thanking hell for the opportunity to be closer to Al

“Yeah of course I can do that” You said standing up taking the paperwork in your black gloved hands “Consider it done Charlie!” You said walking out of her office as she screamed a thank you from behind a closed office door

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked up the flights of stairs to get to Alastor’s door

Minutes passed before you got to the door that read in bold letter

“Alastor, Radio Demon”

Knocking lightly on the door, ‘he should be in there?’

“…”

‘No response..hm that weird’ You thought as you looked over both your shoulders before you placed a gloved hand on your door handle twisting the knob before it opened slowly

!!!CREAAAK!!!

Your body mentally cringed at the noise as you pushed the door more open glancing around one more time you slipped in the crack of his door, gently shutting it closed once you entered

‘Wow’ Was the first word that escaped your mouth looking into his room now, it's his office yes, but what was beyond it that made it almost feel like you were..alive it was the bayou swamp/forest it was just how you remembered before you died all those years ago..breathtaking

Scanning the dimly lit area with the only light being a moonless night and the few fireflies that infested the air, you didn’t see Alastor anywhere in sight, just a table with a chair on it in the middle of the grassy forest.

You bite your lip gently as you looked between the paper work and the forest before groaning knowing your mind was made up, as soon as you laid your eyes on the bayou. Leaving the paperwork for Alastor sitting on his wooden desk before you walked passed it and too the bayou landscape filling as it was almost a dream

Walking slowly into the grassy area with a smile as you breathed in the smell of forest closing your eyes and taking in the sound

It was a wonderful moment of quiet before the light noise of static in the forest made you snap your eyes open,.. that’s Alastor getting closer into range of where you were standing.

Being lucky and hopeful you HOPE he didn’t see you in the clearing just standing their with your eyes closed

You ran and hide behind some bushes and trees that were away from the table and chair you were standing near–and just in the nick of time

You could hear and see him from where you were hiding the full static sound of a certain radio demon as he hummed a tune with a deer slumped dead over on his shoulder, carrying it with ease as he slammed it down on the table, you examined as he sat down making a fork appear out of thin air as he leaned his staff against his chair, before disappearing into air as he began to eat the deer raw pulling at its meat–made you want to gag in disgust

‘He could’ve cooked it’ you thought watching him munch down on his hunt you can assume. Licking his lips after a couple of bites he wiped his mouth with a napkin like a true unhinged gentleman

Before he cleared his throat his eyes shutting but his smile spreading wider, causing you to get goosebumps

“I know your there” He said making you do a double take ‘he knows i am here?’ you thought blinking as you didn’t buy his bluff

“I can sense your presence,” he drawled, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.

“You can’t hide from me.” He opened his crimson eyes as they began scanning the area. You kept your movement still as he scanned over the area you were hiding. You saw how he squinted his eyes almost immediately at the bush you were in

“Come out, come out wherever you are” He sang out in a haunting tone

“You do know as a predator.”He started in a cheery tone before his voice dropped to a dual and deep one “ I can smell you out.” His voice ringing of no radio filter

Your heart began to sped up

‘fffuck’ Is what you thought before you seen Alastor disappear into thin air—it wasn’t a surprise you were accustomed to that but you couldn’t help your heart starting to speed up as he vanished into the air

“Run,” a disembodied whisper breathed against your nape

Took you no time of convincing as you ran not looking behind you as you kept your eyes forward only hearing the sound of something chasing behind,

You hit left and right, hoping to get Alastor off of you

As you take another right you ran behind a tree, hiding behind its figure as you heard and felt Alastor run pass you

You have never done something like this, it was rather fun but dangering

Peaking your head from behind the tree after what felt like entirety you didn’t see Alastor for safe measures you transformed yourself to a small forest animal, just in case Alastor wants to sneak behind you..again

Following near your foot trail from the tree branches, you jumped from branch to branch with ease as you stopped once more hearing static noise come from nowhere, you smirked in your creature form as Alastor wouldn’t suspect a thing

Watching from above, his form essentially appeared from thin air as he had a wide smirk and a look of hunger in his eyes as he looked at the spot you were suppose to be standing

“Where are you~?” He said

“…”

After a moment of looking in all the places he would expect and assume for someone to hide, he stood in the middle of the forest arms crossed as his ears flickered now and then

“Now where did they go? I was rather hungrier for something other than deer” He said you can tell by his voice he was almost dumb struck how could he still be able to smell you but your nowhere near..weird?

You slowly shifted yourself backwards away from Alastor as you didn’t want to alarm him nor give away your hiding, you were almost clear before a vibration was felt throughout the branch and in one second the branch snapped as you land ontop of Alastor head

“...”

“...”

It was quiet not either one of you dared to move before you felt your body being picked up fully by his hand and now..the jig was up

“What do we have here..” He said looking at you “A small diversion from the person thats in here?”Alastor’s gaze bore into you, dissecting your very essence.

A wicked glint in his eyes began to take place, “Well I guess since I couldn't catch my actual food, I shall eat you little one” Pausing to smug smile before continuing “Bad luck for you?~” He said as he lifted you above his mouth

You squirmed in his hands, heart racing.

‘This can’t be how (y/n)'s story ends’, you thought desperately.

Just as he was about to drop you into his abyssal maw, you shifted—your disguise falling away

You landed on top of Alastor, who staggered back, utterly unprepared.

“Don’t eat me,” you blurted out, adrenaline surging. Alastor stood, bemusement etching his features.

“Lucy?!” Alastor’s voice crackled through the air, a radio filter distorting his words. The static hummed, raising the hairs on your arms.

“Why are you in here?” His step was deliberate, menacing. You retreated, heart pounding.

“How did you make yourself appear small? Then big?” His eyes narrowed, dissecting you. Each step he took, you mirrored, until your back pressed against a tree—literally.

Your mind raced for a lie, an escape. But then it happened—the slip up, the unraveling.

You shifted into your true form, the one Alastor would recognized.

“(Y/N)?!” His voice lost the radio filter, and you met his gaze. Confusion etched his features. You bit your bottom lip, a awkward laugh escaping.

“Erm, surprise…?” You said as you watched him back up a little from you a smile now spreading wider by the minute as the static was the buzz in the air

As it was overtook by the applause he started to emitted as he turned the other way starting to laugh

“A surprise indeed dearie who would’ve know my wife could pull such a thing off” He started.. you didn’t like how this was sounding as you moved away from the tree watching him as he created slight distances between him and yourself

You watched as a nagging feeling was telling you to start running but ignoring that you spoke up “Alastor I-” He cut you off with his words

As he appeared behind you—the Radio Demon, with crimson eyes and a dangerous smile. His arm encircled your waist, pulling you closer. “You had the entire hotel convinced of this Lucy woman,” he murmured, his voice devoid of filters. “Bravo, dearie. Truly bravo.”

You didn’t like how he was taking the situation as what he said to you in a flare voice on confirmed how much you actually DID piss off Alastor with this little disguise

“You should run now.”

Those four words holding a threat of the unknown and you wanting to at least talk for yourself turned to face Alastor his crimson eyes only reflecting the pure chaos he was about to inflict on this game of catch with you, as you shook your head

“Please let me explain” You urged, desperation coloring your voice.

“5” Alastor your dear husband replied, holding out his hand. The air crackled with tension

“Al please—…”

“4..” He sung out as he closed his eyes, standing tall. One hand rested behind his back, the other poised like a pendulum. The smile of him showing his sharp teeth made you swallow harshly

“3” He warned out to you knowing your still there as he opened one eye to look at you breathing out short “Hmm..a shame your going to let me catch you so easy” He said shutting his open eye closed

“2 dearie” He warned out now holding two fingers as he began to shift in his stances his neck elongated he was slowly shifting into his demon form, and that’s when you finally decide to run

You huffed and panted as you switched your form a couple of times to give you longer distances away from Alastor as you made it deeper into the Bayou the ground under you turning slightly squishy as you kept running not interested to turn around

You ran for what felt like hours before you stopped down near a swamp bank hunched on you knees as you gain your second wind, taking a few more breathes you stood up, the air was quiet you couldn’t hear the static of Al, so you have to be far from him? or he just turned off that noise so he could stalk and pounce on you

Whatever the case maybe you took a breathe in and out as you looked ahead of the lake, nothing but more forest—

You thought different ideas like turning into a winged creature and flying back towards the rooms door to get out of here, but you didn’t know how high you could fly and since Alastor can’t fly nor has wings, you doubt that celling is high enough to get high enough where he couldn’t hit you out of air

Best option was to keep running or go into the swamp water, it would give you better opportunity, reflecting your options about it you heard the ground beneath you move with vibrations ‘fuck he already found me’ you thought coming to the defeat you were going to let yourself be caught but that was until you seen that fucken demon form mere seconds before he seen you, you bailed out dipping yourself slowly in the cold water taking a big breathe before dunking yourself under

Seconds stretched into eternity as you held your breath, your lungs screaming for release. The vibrations in the ground intensified, and you knew he was near. What was Alastor going to do when he catched you? He wouldn’t actually hurt his wife? You thought of as your heart hammered against your ribs, and you wondered if you should be actually concerned

Alastor scanned the area, seeking his dear wife. You pressed deeper into the water, your head submerged further, only the top part of your head concealed by a stray lilypad.

Minutes passed—or perhaps it was mere seconds—before you surfaced. Gasping for air, you wiped water from your eyes. Alastor wasn’t in sight.

You continued walk towards the edge of the pond before crawling out of the pond, lying down on the edge of it your knees still submerged as you sighed out in relief, shutting your eyes for what felt like a second

Before you heard, the clearing of a throat—a sound that sent shivers down your spine. Opening your eyes standing above you was the oh-so-familiar radio demon. You smiled, but before you could vanish into the water, Alastor’s grip closed around your arms. His purr was a velvet blade against your skin.

“Come now, darling,” he drawled, his tone deceiving. “We don’t want you to get wet. Let me assist you in this rather…exchange.” His strength pulled you back, and you squirmed, defiance flaring. But Alastor was stronger, and you found yourself pressed against his chest, dripping and caught.

“Let go,” you demanded, but he only laughed—a predator savoring its prey

“Now, dear, this is part of the game.” His eyes bore into yours, crimson flames dancing. “I’ve caught you, and now you’ll be the prize I win.” His tongue flicked across his lips

As Alastor carried you through the forest he hummed a simple tone, making you more on edge

You both arrived at another clearing?

“This isn’t where we started Al” You said as he set you down, gently helping you get up, as your eyes shifted from the scenery to him

Alastor’s gaze was going up and down on you, as you caught little symbols manifesting themselves around him as he was now a step or two away from you

“Come here” He said in a commanding tone, a chain manifesting around your neck as your eyes widen to metal chain outline with the color of green. Your hands immediately shot to your neck trying to grip and claw at it. You felt a tug come towards Al before you leaned your body away from it trying to keep space, digging your feet lightly in the ground

One real yank got you to move forward unprepared, the earth meant your face very quick and you instantly felt blood in your mouth

“Ah, be good for me, Y/N, and just obey,” he murmured, his grip unyielding. You crawled on your knees and hands, inching closer to him. The chain around your neck tightened, lifting you off the ground. Alastor’s crimson eyes bore into yours.

“My dear sweet little wife, Y/N,” he drawled, his voice devoid of filters. Each word carried weight, punctuated by his southern accent. “You, dearie, violated our little agreement.” His fingers traced the chain. “We had an understanding, did we not?”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps. “I didn’t mean to Al” you whispered

His chuckle echoed through the clearing as he lowered you gently to the ground, ensuring the fall didn’t harm you.

“So, my doe,” he began, his voice a velvet blade, “please give me an explanation. Why has my wife been running around disguised as a Lucy person, working—” His fingers closed around your hands, the chain that had bound you vanishing into thin air. “Her dear, softly delicate hands at a hotel that deserves none of her attention?” His words hung in the air, a question wrapped in menace. “Rather than be in a manor that belongs to her and her husband? Have I done something wrong?”

You sighed out as you nodded taking your hands out of his, to his displeasure “All this started because i heard you mumble in your sleep rather a month or so ago..princess name Charlie” You said with embarrassment flaming your checks as you looked away from Alastor not wanting to know what expression he held

The air was quiet between the both of you, not a word was spoken—You felt like you were holding your breathe with the tension in the air before you felt the touch of your husband on your hands again

“Mon cher~” He purred out making you look at him, his face of course held a wide smile but the look in his eyes held anger with something else glimmering around it “Nothing could replace you”

“No hotel” He said his hand holding out your arm as he kissed at the palm before saying, “No demon” Alastor continued raising his head kissing you at the center of your arm, looking at you in the eyes before kissing more up your arm while saying “And certainly no Lucifer daughter could take my eye off of something as ravishing as you my doe~” Al kissing up you between each pause as he at your neck slowly peaking at it having you basically in his lap with your back towards him, as you moved your head to side to let him continue as he only chuckle at the gesture

Al with his free hand grabbing at your chin to make you look at him as he stared into your (e/c) “But my dear mon cher, you agree at my words as if you understand, but it seems as though you forgotten who I belong too” He said letting go of your chin as both of his hands traveled down to your hips resting there “You forget who's name causes thrill of different emotions within me, so let me remind you~”

Alastor leaned into you, as you meant him half way kissing him

A passionate kiss with some underline aggression made the kiss much more thrilling as Alastor fought for dominance with you trying to dominate over him

With a deep chuckle he pulled away from the kiss, “You being defiant won’t end well for you dear” You looked up too him as you bite your lower lip holding on too his bow tie slowly undoing it as his hands trailed up and down your legs

“No words so be it” He shrugged before pushing you down to the ground, your back laying on the grass as he spread your legs open wide, everything on full display for him to see

He leaned his head down as his ears pushed back towards his head as his eyes half lidded looking up to a red face you “Mm~Darling your so intoxicating with that look on your face” He said before plunging his head down open his mouth before eating your pussy

Your eyes shut closed as your hands went immediately to his hair gripping and pulling at it, as you mumbled out moans holding onto Alastor head down as he kept eating you out

“Al~!” You said in low moan as you felt yourself starting to come undone down there “Alastor..I..I am going to—”

Before you could muster and get out the words to warn your husband, the sensation of Alastor mouth moved away from you leaving you in almost blank state, so close to clarity but yet so far …

You whimpered as you looked down to Alastor who’s face was smirking as he shook his head licking his lips slightly “You think after the charade you pulled your going to get to cum that quick and easily?” He said and laughed “Dearie we are just starting.”

Alastor in a instances flipped you over making you rise to all fours with help of his shadows tendrils you were now ass up face down, with your arms being held down by the shadows tendrils, you whimpered trying to move against them as you felt a burning sensation on your bottom causing you to move it from side to side

Alastor watched in trans like state as you moved your ass after he smacked it only making his boner go harder, as he rub on it through his pants

“Al, let me out of this! I don’t want to be—Ahh~!”You said feeling a familiar feeling slide in you as your eyes rolled behind you, you clawed at the grass alastor pushed all himself in you

“Mmm~There you go Mon Cher~” Alastor said rolling his hips as his head tilted backwards, both of his hands gripping on your hips keeping them in place as he began slowly pumping in and out of you

You moaned as you moved with his thrusts, arching your back as Al grunts and low moans could be heard

Alastor started to pick up in speed as you could only speak out the simple word “Al~” Which was music to the radio demons ears

“Oh (Y/n)~” He said as he kept up fast with his thrusts moving one his hand to your hair, gripping at it pulling you backwards as your head flung back

“Open your eyes.” He said making you slowly open your eyes as meant with the eyes of crimson red ones as his smile was deceiving as his eyes showed pure lust that was feeling “Fuck.” He said as gripped tighter on your hair yanking almost at the root as you moaned with each thrust

“I am going to finish in you.” He said in not a question but as a command as you tighten around him bring him closer as he shut his eyes letting go of your hair before opening his mouth and bitting at the back of your neck as you moaned closing your eyes feeling yourself reaching edge as you reached climax sametime as Alastor

Couple months later drawed by quick before you knew it you were back at the manor, watching over Al’s territory sipping tea as you smiled mindlessly, yeah there was really nothing to worry about.

FIN!!!

Extra! Extra!

(Y/n) and Al strolling through the park. hand in hand as Al hums a tune

Al: “I do say mon cher, I think I never told you why I was saying Charlie's name”

Y/n: “Yeah you haven’t, do share”

Al: “You wouldn’t believe it! Charlie in my dream was trying to paint my Radio Studio, it was all going to be rainbows with fluffy pink unicorns if I didn’t say her name”

Y/n: deadpans

Al: Only telling you the truth dearie~!sings out

Y/n: Your truth is utter dogshit sometimes

Al: gasp Darling!

[robjn93]

hello charlie! i dont know if this is a weird ask, but this is a question about a certain fanon tim drake misconception and i was wondering if you know its origin. people sometimes characterize him as 'morally grey', when i am 98% sure that in canon, it was very pointed out that he has a strong moral compass. like, an notorious example i can remember is in yj98 (#3, i think): when red tornado adresses to tim as 'super ego', being the most 'ethic' one out of kon & bart. i think im rambling over here, but i wanna hear your say on this LOL

ASK AWAY I LOVE TO RAMBLE 'morally grey' tim drake is pure fanon based on either mischaracterization of red robin tim drake or people's unbridled desire to have him and jason bond over hating bruce or whatever else. i made like a giant thinkpiece for oomf about a personal hc on how tims nightmares affected his moral compass but absolutely, tim is PURE super ego. given the trolley problem, tim would probably throw himself on those rails to die. he has proven it many times.

in robin #4-5, given the choice of putting steph in danger by letting her confront her father or killing arthur brown, he chose option 3: throw himself in the truck, which ended up with him nearly suffocating to death. what i personally find interesting of this is less his actions per sè and more his thoughts; every second a thought about ‘doubling air supply’ comes to his head, he punishes himself for it. he is only afraid of 'disappointing bruce', finding himself in a situation where he even had to choose 'who to save'.

in one of my favorite stories, 'batman: contagion', tim would rather die than let is father know he was dying. he wanted to avoid giving his father thta heartache and make sure that batman and robin's identity were safe so he preferred wallowing in his pain instead.

in the titans of tomorrow storyline, he didnt hesitate to put a gun to his head and nearly pull the trigger and it has to be noted that the only reason why he failed to take his own life was external factors. if it meant saving others, he was willing to let himself die.

finally (because i have too many examples LOL) a lonely place of living. too good. between letting the kanes become the target of the bombs or letting people perish, he chose the final option: redirect all explosives towards himself and let himself die.

tim counteracts hedonism, he is a pure self harming machine and most importantly, he is a masochist and a hypocrite. in his fantasies, he wishes for an easy life yet does everything in his power not to achieve that. he dates ariana, a girl whos life (as troubled as any gothamite’s can be) is fairly uncomplicated, overly accepting of his committment behaviors yet cheats on her with steph, someones whos life is an absolute mess and does nothing but make it even more complicated by being a vigilante and choosing to be involved in the vigilante life.

he says he wants to eventually quit robin and have an easy life yet, when offered the chance of actually quitting, he is trembling in his boots and afraid of a life without being robin. he comes back to bruce all the times, no matter how many times bruce disappoints him and manipulates him. he needs that complicated life, he needs to be a part of that change. he needs that pain.

[queenie-avenue]

Sent from Below, Fell from Above. [pt.1] [pt.2]

—> if angels can fall, demons can rise.

⤻ reader is a female, reader is a bunny-type angel(?), canon-typical cursing, very bad use of 1920s slang, heavily inspired by @jazjelspen 's angel baby fic, death, betrayal, mentions of racism, abuse of men against women and sexism, angst, spoilers for all of hazbin hotel season one, flashbacks

notes: a rather long one, and wrote another small verse for readers to sing. I wrote it while slowing down the melody in Emily and Charlie's parts.

💌 ⤻ archives.

You walked into the broadcasting room, your heels clacking against the clean floor as you looked about before acknowledging that someone was already there.

"Ah, are you my newest assistant?" The man seated there had the widest grin on his face as he sat there, legs slightly spread apart as you gulped, nodding your head so meekly. Ah, to be human again, when you were too scared to even raise your head. "Haha, that's wonderful, my dear. I was told you had quite the resume. Most impressive for a young lady." You nodded your head. "Very... very impressive indeed." He smiled at you.

"You are impressive too, sir." You quipped.

"Oh?" He tilted his head.

You blushed as he narrowed his eyes at you. "Both of us... we- we're not exactly what society deems as... correct."

"Is that why you're working here? You relate to me?" The creole man asked, leaning against his chair as he tapped a lanky finger on his desk.

"No." You shook your head, your wild hair shaking alongside you. "I admire you. I want to be like you. I imagine it must have been hard for to get to where you are now." You spilled your heart out to this man, because for years, you admired how someone that was meant to be pushed out of what society deemed 'right' managed to rise to the top, to become a striking star in the radio world. "So I'm here because I want to learn how to become a star, just like you."

His eyes widened as you faced him with that determined look on your face.

"What a bright young woman." He rose up from his seat, sauntering his way towards you as you stood there, waiting.

Alastor grabbed your hand, bowing down as he looked up at you, that sweet grin on his face. "Alastor, my dear, pleasure to meet you." He said, before sealing your fate with a kiss on your hand. "I hope that we can get along well." You gazed at him with wide eyes, your eyes raking over his bronzed skin and brown — almost red — hair. Glasses lined his gleaming eyes.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

"Hey, bitch! I'm talking to you over here!" Adam's voice rang throughout your head as your head snapped up to meet the first man on Earth. You frowned.

You never liked Adam. He was stuck-up, and you had heard the stories of how badly he treated Lilith and Eve, it reminded you of your high-school friends who unfortunately fell into the hands of those abusive men they had to marry. Adam had the same air as them, just less... smart.

"You want me to show up to the trial?" You repeated.

"Yes!" Adam yelled.

"I don't mind. That demon princess annoys me a little. I don't understand why she's trying to redeem a murderer like him." You hissed. The fact that girl — who probably knew of his sadistic nature — associated with him, left a bad taste in your mouth. Though wrath was a sin, you felt resentment and wrath for Alastor, and envy for how he did not seem to regret any of his actions that led him to hell in the first place. Meanwhile, you had to deal with the nightmares that came with being killed. For the first years in Heaven, you woke up in cold sweat as you remembered the knife that went through your heart.

"Well then, babe," you disliked Adam, but a temporary truce would be fine. "Let's start heading there, shall we?"

You nodded and unflapped your wings.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You flew up to the seat beside Adam, eyes narrowed as you watched Alastor promenade in with the Princess of Hell and that girl you still had no idea about. The way he walked was still the same as it had been years ago.

You met eyes with Alastor, mustering all your courage to send a look of malice his way, as Sera announced the beginning of court.

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell can be redeemed to the Heavenly Realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel." Oh, you just knew Alastor named that Hotel, he always did have a sick sense of humour. You almost snorted at the name too, but refrained from doing so.

Adam nudged you. "Now." He practically hissed. Out of spite, you almost didn't stand up.

"Objection!" You said as you stared down at the Princess, then at Sera. "I apologise for interrupting you, your royal highness." You looked down at her, then up at Sera, who glared at Adam, instinctively knowing it was his idea to rope in the innocent you into his plans. "I understand that as a Winner, I typically have no say in how Heaven runs things." You summoned up all your might as you met Sera's eyes, utilising all that courage you had back as Alastor's assistant into your heavenly body. "But I must disagree on the type of people the Princess of Hell is trying to redeem." You pointed a finger at Alastor, his eyes widening in amusement as you accused him.

"This man, I knew him from when I was alive, my heavenly council." You looked at all the archangels and others that gathered around. "He was the man who killed me. A notorious serial murderer from when I was alive. More of his victims are no doubt here too, maybe some in hell. But what doesn't change the fact is that someone as dangerous as him," You pointed your finger at Alastor again, your face turning red as he simply tilted his head towards you, like a gentleman greeting a lady. The council gasped as they all whispered about, some glaring down at your murderer. For once, you felt like justice was being served for how abruptly your life had ended in Alastor's hands."Does not belong in Heaven after all the souls he has killed in his time in the living. No matter how much he repents, taking away another human's soul is an unforgivable crime!" You exclaimed.

The rest of the council agreed, as the Princess and the girl beside her looked about, frantic. Alastor simply smiled up at you, his little bunny.

"Order in the court." Sera said, attempting to calm everyone down after you riled them up with your voice.

"You've always been such a good public speaker, my little bunny." You saw red, he dared to call you that intimate nickname in front of the Heavenly Court? After you had revealed his crime to everyone to see?

It seems that Alastor's nerve had not died with him.

"Why is he even here?" You questioned Charlie, your fiery gaze never leaving the trio below you.

"I am the host of the hotel, my dear!" Alastor said, "I should be here to support my fellow colleagues in their endeavours. What kind of co-worker — let alone friend — would I be if I let them defend their case on their own?"

You were about to speak when you were interrupted by that Princess.

"In the Hazbin Hotel, we believe that everyone can be redeemed!" The Princess exclaimed despite the loud voices drowning her out. "Please, you have to listen!"

"You don't even have evidence that this Hotel can work. If you do, we'd be glad to see it!" Adam responded sarcastically, challenging Princess Morningstar.

"We have a patron that is showing incredible progress." She said.

"Who?"

"Don't tell me it's him." You glared at the Princess, daring her to confirm your doubts.

"Angel Dust!" What an odd name.

"Oh yeah! The porn demon, he's totally worth being redeemed." Adam blew a Raspberry at them. That was... immature. Still, your cheeks almost flamed scarlet as Adam gave you context for who and what this sinner the Princess referred to was.

"Well, if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into heaven?" She pointed at Adam as your eyes widened. You had never thought about this before but... what did a person need to do to get into heaven? Did they need to be perfect? Because if so, you certainly belonged in Hell. Then, you remembered Alastor and your mood soured to think that you might have been in the same spot as him.

What was even more shocking was when Adam began to get flustered, flabbergasted by Charlie's question as Sera inquired as to whether Adam was okay. You watched even more shocked as Adam cursed at Sera and began to scribble nonsense onto a paper and sent it down to the girl. You caught a glimpse of the paper and your eyes widened.

"Are you fucking serious?" The ashen girl by the Princess' side asked, and honestly, that was your reaction too.

Adam snapped his fingers as Charlie challenged him, your eyes narrowing as an orb of light began to reflect, glowing bright before showcasing a bunch of sinners... partying? Was that how partying looked nowadays?

"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see? The pornstar chose a night of debauchery, that's not a soul worthy of being redeemed!" You side-eyed Adam. He had done way more debaucherous stuff than you cared to admit, and plus, if not partying was one of the factors for how you could get into heaven, the parties Alastor dragged you to would have caused you to plummet to Hell already.

"Are you telling me you never had a drink with friends after a hard day?" The Princess was right.

Thankfully, Sera was much more forgiving and less stupid than Adam, considering that she eventually allowed the Princess of Hell to continue. Still, you glared at Alastor, annoyed that you and Adam's ploy to get everyone so worked up over the serial killer in the room had not worked.

If the type of people the Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar, wanted to redeem was a serial murderer, you would never accept the idea of redemption.

Alastor did not deserve such happiness.

You continued to watch, and the more you watched, the more you empathised with this Angel Dust... the more you felt inclined to care for him. You felt your heart — that you had assumed turned to stone for the sinners down in hell — slowly soften into clay for this sad man. Yet, despite how sad he clearly was, he was so strong. Stronger than anyone you had ever seen.

"See! He did everything on your list! He was selfless, he stopped Nifty from stealing and stuck it to that Moth man!" Charlie exclaimed, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

"Well, b- then why isn't he here then!" Adam sputtered out. "Hm?"

"Why isn't he here?" Emily and You said in unison.

"Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?"

The rest of the conversation was a blur to you as you struggled with the idea that you had no idea why you were in Heaven. If you had done one wrong thing... would that have condemned you to hell with Alastor?

You had not even comprehended the fact that they had started debating their ideas in song till Lute who was seated beside you, began to insult the sinner that all of you had been observing. Your eyes had solely been focused on Alastor the entire time, but theh quickly shot to Lute.

"What are we even talking about? Some crack whore who fucked up already! He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth, this discussion is senseless and petty!" Lute sang, and you almost reached out for her, to not say such crude things in front of the Heavenly council and certainly to not insult a victim of abuse. Yet Lute and Adam flew away first and you frowned even deeper.

"Gotta say I can't wait to-"

"Adam." You turned to Sera.

"Come down and exterminate you!" Your eyes widened as you realised the severity of this situation. You now understood why this Princess was fighting so hard for this hotel.

Adam was killing the sinners.

He was no better than Alastor. No, even worse. Adam slaughtered an entire group of people without mercy. You felt bile rise up from your throat as they continued to sing, the tunes of their voice banging against your ears.

"Whoops!"

"Guess the cat's out of the bag!"

"What's the big deal?"

They didn't even see what was wrong with what they had said. You almost stumbled back thanks to shock and your absurdly long dress. Your entire world was sent into a frenzy as you felt so disgusted with yourself, for thinking that you could work with Adam, for siding with Sera and Adam — though briefly — for the idea of extermination. You felt yourself fall back, but someone was there to catch you.

Alastor's shadows manifested behind you, holding you close to his chest. "Be careful, Sweetheart." He said, helping you regain your balance as you felt too much anger with yourself to be angry at him.

"If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!"

"Emily-"

"If Angels can do whatever and remain in the sky! The rules are shades of grey, when you don't do as you say, when you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!"

Their words resonated with you, and you found your heart thumping to the melody of the song.

"Don't look there." Alastor whispered as a red hand came up to your face, covering your eyes. "I don't like to see you stressed, my darling." The warmth of his hand felt like that time when he had surprised you on your birthday, covering your eyes before revealing the cake he had bought and the decorations he had put up for you.

Despite how he covered your ears, you could hear the court arguing amongst themselves.

That's when you heard it.

Sera's voice boomed throughout the entire court, facing the sinners with a verdict. "I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed."

"Oh fuck yes! I win, suck it, bitches!"

"You better save the date cunts, because we're coming to your hotel, first." That's when Alastor manifested in front of them, his shadows pushing Adam back, almost causing him to topple over.

"Not a very clever idea, chum, it's rude to curse at ladies." Alastor warned, the shadowy tentacles slithering about, ready to attack Adam.

"Ugh, son of a bitch!" Adam cursed as he grabbed out his guitar. "Or maybe, I can just kill you fuckers now." He took out his guitar-axe and in a flash of light, you flew towards them, shielding the trio from Adam's strikes with your wings. Adam flew back when his guitar-axe made contact with your angelic wings, enchanted by a spell that slammed Adam and Lute back, crashing into the wall.

"Just because you're a winner, does not give you the privilege to harm someone else!" You yelled, never having such a fit of rage in your life as you spread out your wings. You were a bunny; prey, never the predator. But as you spread out your Enchanted wings, you felt yourself grow angrier as you thought of how Adam — that sadistic motherfucker — no doubt killed multiple sinners. Sinners who were just like Angel Dust, misguided, but deserving of redemption.

"Are you seriously defending them right now, you crazy bitch?" Adam grunted as he glared at you.

"I'm defending the principle of it." You hissed.

Sera and Emily looked down at you. Sera, in particular, had a sour look on her face.

"You say that demons cannot be redeemed to Heaven, but why can Angels fall?" You questioned. "Lucifer himself, was once an angel, God's favourite angel!"

"If angels can fall, then why can't demons rise?" You looked towards the Heavenly council as you sang. "After this, will you really believe all their lies?" You questioned through song as Adam got up, knowing you had little time to convince the court. "The rules aren't black and white, who decides what's wrong and right? Can you say that this is justice when you kill them again?" You sang, pleading for the court to just look past their prejudices.

Just then, you heard a snap of Adam's fingers as a portal emerged from behind all of you. "No!" You yelled when you noticed how the portal was leading to a red fiery pit you assumed was hell, but before you could even protest, you had been pushed in by Lute, causing the rest of the four of you to stumble back down into hell.

tags: @duckydinglers @ghostdoodlen @belletifeshyl

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Simon had wondered what any of it had meant. Maddie's death, why he'd been the only one who could see her. And then he'd learned that, perhaps, everything that had happened...it hadn't been about him or Maddie at all.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.25

A roaring white noise erupted in the theater, smothering all other sounds. A TV static howl that seemed to come from within your own head, building and building until it was unbearable. You slapped your hands over your ears, gritted your teeth, pulse thundering almost as loud as the unnatural noise in your ears.

Muffled as if through cotton fluff, you heard someone yell, "What's happening!?" but no more than that, the voice swept away by the bellow. You lifted your head away from Xavier's shoulder and turned your body as much as you could within the tight band of his arms. Where the trapdoor should be, rising like a nightmare from its grave, the farmhouse door materialized in the middle of the stage. Your eyes widened in horror as the familiar screams from behind it began to gnash at the edges of the noise like teeth, "LET. ME. OUT! YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU HEAR ME!? DEAD!!"

You cast around, saw Maddie and Wally huddled together, Charlie tucked between two rows of seats, Ajay shielding Mina with his body, and Rhonda with her arms crossed in front of her face as the noise crashed through the theater like a physical force; a tempest of rage and violence that pierced the veil. The ground and walls shook, windows rattled, a stage light fell and smashed on the stage. The quake vibrated through your bones, motivated you to act, but you couldn't move. Xavier clung to you both protectively and in terror, his eyes pleading as he seemed to figure out what you planned to do. He trembled, fingertips bruising into your flesh through your sweater.

You'd never seen him so scared. Not once. Not ever.

Driven by adrenaline, "I'm sorry," you shoved Xavier off you, spun and rose in one fluid motion, and charged at speed down the center aisle toward the stage. The wind was sharp and stinging, pieces of glass and metal from the shattered stage light picked up and whipped about, but you didn't stop. Hurdled into it. Leapt onto the stage. Close, so close. Hand extended, fingers brushing the knob, about to brace against it to keep the monsters from escaping.

The door ruptured at its center, fragments of wood bursting outward and immediately captured by the storm. The force of the sudden explosion sent you sailing backward, followed by a tsunami of blinding, iridescent light that fell from the breach in the door and reached toward you. Cold. Clutching. You barely made out your name being shouted in varying degrees of desperate concern and fear. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter. Because as soon as you landed, hard—enough to knock the air from your lungs into your throat and choke you—the world shifted on its axis and went black.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Question 1.

Why did Frankenstein create the Monster?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon lay in bed and stared at the ceiling above him, cracked and pillowed, a yellow-brown rash bloomed in patterns that he tracked in meditative circles with his eyes. He needed to shower, he thought dully. He hadn't had time that morning before being chauffeured to the station for another damning interrogation by Deputies Hayes and Stewart.

"Where is she, Elroy? Where's Maddie?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to us, kid, it'll only make things worse for you."

"I'm not lying, I don't kn—"

"God dammit, quit playing dumb!"

"That's enough," Mrs. Grace had snapped before Stewart's jaw had shut with an audible click. "Without substantiated evidence, this is all hearsay. Simon has given you everything he knows in his statement. Unless you intend to further make fools of yourselves, we're leaving."

Simon needed to get up. Get up. Get up. Get. Up.

He didn't move. Couldn't; his limbs grafted to his sheets, muscles like stone, bones elastic. His back was sore, his skin ached and he wanted to move around, stretch the discomfort out of his body, but...he didn't. Instead, he kept staring at the ceiling as the morning looped in his mind. Questions and suppositions, two manilla folders, one map, and then a tense drive home where he'd felt little-boy scared of his parents—his father—for the first time in years, their disappointment and anger palpable in the tight confines of the car.

Simon had been shown Maddie's file. A couple of graphic photographs that looked staged for a prime-time procedural drama. His best friend's blood splattered on the boiler room wall, evidence of the pain and torture she'd incurred when she'd been killed. Murdered in the bowels of the school while Simon had been three floors up in homeroom, bored and bleary-eyed, dozing on his backpack, mentally preparing for a night at the APEX with a group he felt a little on the outskirts of.

"Fuck." He choked, eyes stinging, rubbing over them with his wrist.

The photographs were seared into his retinas; there even when he tried to distract himself or ignore them or pretend that Maddie was still within reach and not one resolution away from vanishing forever.

Blood. Her blood. From a swing so violent that it'd projected onto the wall when the weapon had been hitched for another strike. How many blows had been delivered before Maddie's eyes had dimmed and her breath had stopped? His stomach lurched, but still, Simon didn't move.

The deputies thought Maddie was out there. Not enough blood on the scene to warrant a murder investigation, Stewart had informed Simon as if suggesting that Simon and Maddie might've tried to fake her death so no one would look for her. It was half-assed and ridiculous. Even Hayes seemed to think so, though she wouldn't have admitted it aloud.

Desperate to repress the images, Simon tried to remember the other file he'd been shown. The deputies insisted the cases were linked: Maddie's "escape" and a string of break-ins that spanned two neighborhoods that would've been one if it weren't for a railway track splitting it down the middle like a stapled wound. Simon had recognized the first immediately. Riverden Heights. A low-income area that had been chosen by the town council for regentrification, spearheaded by none other than Claire Zomer's stepfather.

The other, Warren Meadow, had taken him a moment to recognize, but when he did, it'd been a feat to conceal his surprise. He'd been there the night he'd found Mr. Anderson's stash, sat on a swing in the play park behind the house you called home.

What did it mean?

As he pondered the possibilities, a crisp gust of wind coasted over him, disturbing the curtains and ruffling the posters on his walls. At last, he moved, prompted to investigate because he was sure— He swallowed thickly, tense, heartbeat ratcheting up a notch. Propped on a hand, he looked in confusion and dread at his closed window.

A slow, eerie creak snapped his attention toward his closet, the door open a sliver when he knew it'd been closed. The darkness within seemed even blacker than was natural. Inexplicable. Otherworldly. A shiver ran down his spine. Similar to the feeling he'd had when he'd caught Maddie's reflection in the classroom window on Monday.

The floorboards squeaked when he stood. Simon took one cautious step after another, muscles flexed, not prepared at all for an attack but willing to be brave. Two. Three. Four. Five steps. His chest was tight. Hands shaking. Breathing shallow. As he hooked his fingers on the door to open it further, it started. The sound was faint and he had to strain to hear it, but it was unmistakable. Wet and rattled, punctuated by thick sniffles.

Someone was crying.

Someone was crying in Simon's closet.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Rhonda remained couched, braced against the wild, unholy wind until, bit by bit, she realized it'd stopped. When she opened her eyes, she gasped in shock, collapsing forward onto her hands. The world around her had changed; the theater was replaced by a span of paved ground enclosed by a chain-link fence, painted games bright against the black asphalt. A tingle crept down from her scalp to her nape, goosebumps pebbled her arms, and she panned her head to glance over her shoulder.

Panicked, she spun, landed on her ass, shoving herself backward with her feet to put distance between herself and the eerily suspended door. The void at its center flickered. It felt like a black hole trying to drag her into oblivion.

Rhonda flipped over and pushed herself up. Ran. Ran harder and faster than she'd ever done in life or death. Down the side of the building she'd found herself behind to skid around the corner and come to an abrupt, stuttered stop.

She turned this way and that, disoriented, chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to suck in enough air to keep her upright.

"What the hell is happening?" She wheezed, every alarm in her brain going off at once as she began to process her surroundings: Outdoors. Too dark for how early she felt it should be, the air thin and cold, biting, and the sky obscured by a dense layer of gunmetal grey clouds. It was raining in heavy sheets so thick Rhonda could barely make out the line of British inspired maisonettes on the opposite side of the street. "Where—?"

She cut herself off when the wide, double-door entrance to the building opened, releasing a soft glow from within that illuminated the pathway ahead of it. Children in raincoats and rubber boots bounced down the front steps, giggling as they jumped and splashed through puddles on their way to join clusters of adults who waited under umbrellas on the sidewalk.

"No. Fucking. Way." Rhonda walked toward the pathway, jaw slack, gaze fixed on the words etched into the stonework. She nearly tripped over her own feet, only just managing to correct herself as she turned fully toward the building.

Anabelle Meheive Schoolhouse for Boys.

The brick and mortar was as old as Split River itself, named after one of the town founders' wives. The school had been reestablished as Anabelle Meheive Elementary in the early '40s, ten years before Rhonda's family had moved from rural town Romania to Wisconsin. Rhonda had still been curious then, unjaded and excited and eager to learn. Her fourth grade desk had been right there, beside that window. Where she'd daydreamed as she'd stared at the houses across the street and had wondered what it'd been like to live somewhere so unlike her own home in the shanty district that bordered the factories.

Pressure stuffed her nose, her vision blurred, and suddenly she was overwhelmed by the memory, instantly missing her parents, her sisters, her grandmother in a way she hadn't in countless years. Unfortunately, she didn't have more than a moment to grapple with it before her attention was forced back to the school's entrance.

Two figures emerged, one was small, obviously a child. A little boy, Rhonda discerned, with a Spiderman backpack and rainboots to match. The second was taller, slender, the hood of their sweater up so it concealed their face. They hauled the little boy by the hand as they complained, "Come on, stop messing around, I want to go home," as the little boy kept trying to gleefully splash his way through every puddle on his way to the front gate.

A spike of foreboding shot through Rhonda as she watched the pair. Swiftly, she found herself trailing after them as they turned onto the sidewalk. That sense of unease continued to worsen, churning in her stomach like a premonition of ill tides. Although it felt like every other bad gut feeling she'd experienced in her young life, it was somehow distinguished. And when the taller figure got so frustrated by the little boy that they pushed their hood off and threatened, "I'm so serious right now, I will leave you here and tell mom you ran away," Rhonda was once again stunned into stillness.

The taller figure was a girl, no older than eleven or twelve with features identical to ones Rhonda had seen mere moments before the theater had turned into a category 5 hurricane zone. Your hair was longer and your face was rounder, softer, yet simultaneously you looked exactly as you had when Rhonda had joked about getting Wally a new wardrobe.

You began to tug the little boy along again, your foul temper tween-girl extreme to the extent Rhonda questioned whether or not it was really you. Regardless of whether or not it was, Rhonda decided, she needed help, needed an explanation. Where the fuck was she? When the fuck was she? How did she get here?

"Hey!" Rhonda yelled after you, "Wait!"

You didn't notice Rhonda. In fact, she was entirely nonexistent to you as you yanked and heaved your brother every single step forward. He enjoyed being a pain in your ass, always elbowing his way into every sleepover, usurping attention, whining until you gave in and put on movies for babies because he didn't like what you and Xavier and Hana wanted to watch.

You'd already been grumpy when your mom had called to ask that you collect Aiden from school on your way home, consumed by thoughts of Xavier and Hana ditching you to hang out with another couple because, apparently, that's what boyfriends and girlfriends did.

Your face twisted in displeasure, jealousy seeping into your veins like toxic sludge as you barked again, "Aiden, come. on. Stop it!"

Xavier and Hana hadn't even kissed on the mouth yet, you grouched internally. Plus, they were still going to Dave & Buster's with Mrs. Baxter like all three of you did. As a group. Every Friday since first grade. It wasn't fair that just because you didn't want to be kissed or have some gross boy who smelled like B.O. and gym bag hold your hand like that, you weren't allowed to go too.

The rain came down harder, thunder rumbled overhead and lightning cracked across the sky. Aiden continued to resist, stomping in and out of the stream that flowed along the curb. Stupid mom being held up at work. Stupid Aurora being at university. And stupid, stupid Aiden, not listening to you when you were obviously in a bad mood.

"Aiden!" You yelled, tugging him back onto the sidewalk, "I said stop it!"

Your clothes were drenched, your limbs were frozen, and all you wanted to do was go home, rant to Nanna, and have her comfort you and tell you to forget Xavier and Hana and their dumb relationship had ever happened. Just as you were contemplating how upset your mom would be if you abandoned Aiden right then and there, you heard a car pull up behind you and a male voice call, "Hey, can I give you a ride?"

Rhonda stopped when she saw the car stop. More specifically, when she saw the face of the man behind the wheel. She didn't recognize him and he looked normal enough. Buzzed, military brown hair and a friendly smile and eyes that crinkled charmingly at the corners. Rhonda moved to peek into the open passenger window, squinting at him. Despite how NPC-normal he appeared, there was something inside her soul, a niggling feeling that made her gums itch, that told her that the man's aura was several shades of wrong.

Clumsily, she reared back and turned to urge you, "Don't go with him," as that prickly sense of unease increased, blaring like an air raid siren in her brain. Rhonda couldn't tell if you were familiar with the man and decided quickly that it didn't matter, "I know we aren't exactly besties," She said, standing directly in front of you now, "But you have to listen to me."

You looked right through her.

Leaning across the console was a man wearing a uniform like your dad's, his face familiar though you couldn't quite place it. Your grip tightened around Aiden's hand and you narrowed your eyes at him. A thousand and one speeches had been delivered throughout your life on the subject of which strangers are good and which are bad. And random men in cars were at the top of the "who to avoid" list.

"You don't remember me?" The man chuckled and then explained, "We met at the barbeque on base. I'm Christopher." He raised an amused eyebrow, "You got me with your water gun a few times."

Rhonda's gaze ricocheted between you and Christopher as you hesitated, tilted your head, and chewed your lip, studying Christopher like a Wanted poster. That nagging feeling in Rhonda's gut swelled into a sick panic when the tension bled out of your shoulders, showing signs of finally recalling who Christopher was.

"Oh yeah," You grinned and stepped closer. Christopher was in the same unit as your dad. He'd been at the barbeque with his wife and daughter, the latter having hung out with you and Xavier all afternoon while the adults drank beer and got rowdy. "Xavier pushed you in the pool."

Christopher snorted and hung his head in mock shame, "That's me."

Rhonda shook her head, her mind screaming at her to stop you from going with him. That if you did, all the happiness and joy and pure, unconditional love in the world would be snuffed out as easily as the flame of a candle. Rhonda had felt similarly when Mr. Manfredo's demeanor had shifted in the split second before he'd revealed his true intentions for her.

"Don't go with him," She repeated, trying and failing to grab your hand, shoulder, face, anything. But her hands kept missing, sliding away, your energy and hers two like poles that would never connect. "You need to believe me!"

You smiled down at Aiden, "A ride would be great, right Aid?"

Aiden wasn't paying attention, staring off into space. He did that whenever you asked him to stop being annoying. Acted like he hadn't heard you or that you weren't there. Glaring at him, you repeated the question, only for Aiden to tug your hand so you had to bend to his level to hear him.

"What?" You demanded under your breath.

Aiden whispered, "I don't think we should go with him."

Relief flooded through Rhonda, however, it was short-lived.

You rolled your eyes, "Seriously, Aiden?" God, could he just not? For once, one time, could he be on your side instead of making everything difficult? You knew he was complaining just so he could keep splashing in the puddles, but you were over the wet and the rain and the cold.

Aiden stubbornly stared into space again, refusing to budge until you poked him in the cheek. He reluctantly dragged his eyes to yours, looking up at you with a pout, "I don't want to, Sissy." Lip wobbly, brow furrowed. The same expression he pinched his face into when you refused to let him use your Switch.

You heaved a careworn sigh and put your hands on your knees as you spoke to him, forcing your voice to a sensitive register, "How about this: If you get in the car, I'll make you mac 'n' cheese with chicken nuggets when we get home. Alright?"

Rhonda lurched forward, "No no no!" She begged you to change your mind, to hear what Aiden was trying to tell you, her voice strangled, throat closing. "Don't!"

Aiden chewed his lip as he considered your proposal, eyes on the ground. At last, with one last glance into the middle distance, he nodded. It was a small gesture, almost disappointed, and he mumbled, "Okay."

You grinned and hugged him, praising him for listening to you as you opened the car door and helped him into the backseat. Once he scooched over, you climbed in after him, thanked Christopher for his kindness, and made Aiden do the same.

"Thanks," Aiden muttered, staring at his lap, looking for all the world like he'd just been told he wasn't allowed dessert ever again.

Though she knew it was useless, Rhonda bodily flung herself at the car when you closed the door, banging and slapping the window with her palms until they stung bright red. "Don't! You have to get out! GET. OUT!"

You buckled your seatbelt, then Aiden's, and the car pulled away.

Rhonda stumbled into the street, shouting after you. Her hands gripped her head in panic, pulse racing. She watched the car stop at the corner and saw Aiden rise to peer out of the back window, chubby hand up as if he was waving goodbye. The emotion in his big, green eyes— She inhaled sharply. Without any doubt, Rhonda understood that she'd just witnessed a child's future turn to ash. And she felt in her bones that Aiden knew it, too.

"Come back." She begged, tight and weak. "Please, come back."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, an ominous creak drew her attention behind her. The farmhouse door. The deep, black void at its center. Eyes wide in fright, she shifted to run after the car but didn't get even a step before the blackness shot out, wrapped around her arms and legs, and wrenched her into its depths. The door slammed closed and disappeared.

In the backseat of the car, you asked Aiden, "What're you looking at?" when he continued to stare out of the rear window. You peeked over the seat in confusion, not seeing anything worth that much scrutiny.

Aiden slowly slid his gaze to meet yours and what you saw in them made your stomach twist, the look in them far too old for a six-year-old boy. Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to brush it off, fixing Aiden in his seat after he'd lowered himself to sit properly.

"Nothing," Aiden responded, tone solemn. He began to draw a little stick figure in the condensation on the window, and then an upright rectangle with curly cues coming out of it.

You watched him for a moment, suddenly feeling uneasy. "You sure?"

Aiden nodded.

You wouldn't have believed him anyway.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Question Two.

Does Frankenstein learn from his mistake in creating the Monster?

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

You roused in pained stages, groaning as you hoisted yourself onto your hands and knees. The world was spinning, vision cloudy for a moment before the room settled around you. The damp and dark didn't feel right against you, pushing in from all corners like pressure in the depths of the ocean. Heaving a breath, you wobbled to your feet, blinking rapidly as your eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Even in the thin light filtering through the high windows, you recognized that, wherever you were, it wasn't the theater.

"Wally?!" You called out, "Maddie!?"

No answer.

"...anyone?"

It took a minute for your eyes to adjust. The space was wide and empty, the ceiling low, walls exposed slabs of thick stone. A cellar, you realized, stepping carefully across the packed dirt floor. Faded Persian carpets had been placed down in the center; thinner, longer ones like runners led from the base of the polished wood steps to the back wall, the tail end of the last carpet disappearing beneath the stone.

"Where am I?" You wondered, glancing about.

A few items of furniture stood against the wall directly opposite the staircase. A tall, fat cabinet with glass windows that displayed a variety of trinkets that reminded you of curiosities Victorian nobles had collected to be admired by their unworldly peers. Beside it was a sarcophagus, Egyptian-inspired but certainly not original. It was far too dark, menacing, the face demonic with ruby eyes that seemed to burn from within.

You kept a wide berth around it, its aura unsettling. Like walking into a forest after nightfall with no flashlight.

On the other side of the cabinet were wrought iron hooks nailed into the stone, neat rows of ten across, seven down. Most of them were bare, though a few still held gruesomely painted masks in the Venetian style. Some with long, pointed noses; others without, more feminine. The eyes in all of them were netted.

"What the hell is this place?" You murmured to yourself as you reached out to run your fingers delicately down the smooth nose of one of the masks.

It felt familiar. The exposed beams, the packed dirt floor, the draft that chilled you to the bone. You followed the runners to the back wall, turned, looked out the window above you. Twisty, naked branches speared the sky, a large gap in the middle where...where the road... Oh, God.

Your breath caught and you began to feel queasy, bile burning the back of your throat. This wasn't just any cellar. It was the farmhouse cellar. The place you'd been when you learned exactly how many minutes it took for a human body to die.

The room swam as your vision blurred and all at once, you doubled over, retching into the dirt, swaying on weak legs when it was over. Breath after breath felt like ice as you tried to get air into your lungs, your heart to calm down, your head to stop spinning.

"It's not possible," You choked, collapsing against the wall, "I shouldn't be here, this isn't right." You sank to the floor, completely devoid of energy in the wake of your realization. As if the darkness had sucked it all out. You sat there for minutes that dragged into each other, hitched little inhales and drawn, stuttered exhales. "I want to go home," You whimpered, but there was no one around to hear you.

In that instant, voices rose and the floorboards above creaked under the weight of several people. Panicked, you shot to your feet, casting about for something to protect yourself. Nothing good had ever happened in this farmhouse, you knew, and you doubted that now would be any different.

There was nothing. And when you tried to open the cabinet, a taser-like shock jolted through your arm and knocked you backward onto the floor. However, you didn't have time to question it, the door above opening—that door, the door, the one that had haunted you for six years—and the voices getting closer.

"Surely, Lord Althan, you jest. A stablehand!" A woman's voice spoke, sounding giddy as much as disturbed. "How on earth did that happen?"

A deep, male voice answered, that of Lord Althan assumedly, "I haven't a clue, Marjorie." He sounded dismayed, "He took off with all the money and my daughter, the wretched bastard." A pause before he growled, "I tell you, never trust a Clark."

"Certainly not." Marjorie agreed. "I had two in my employ, sisters. Irish though they weren't Catholic, and I wish I had known such an important detail before I had Beaty hire the little rats. They stole the diamonds right off one of my necklaces. Had they the fear of God in them, they wouldn't have done so."

"And they were Clarks?" A new voice asked, another male, though thick with an accent you could only describe as South Asian.

Marjorie answered, "Indeed. You'll have to be careful during your visit, Your Excellency. The poor have become a problem in recent years, I'm afraid."

You listened with half an ear as you scouted for a place to tuck yourself into. The sarcophagus was latched and the effort it would take to break the lock off would be both too loud and too obvious. You searched along the walls, in the shadowy corners. The best place would've been under the stairs but a large cord of chopped wood had been piled in front of the space.

The footsteps got closer as the group descended, talking amongst themselves. Swallowing thickly, you pressed yourself against the side of the cabinet, crouched beneath the rows of hooks, hands over your mouth to muffle your harried breathing.

A strange sensation passed through the cellar as the group stepped one by one onto the carpet at the bottom of the stairs. The air stilled and the shadows seemed to part for the group as they moved across the space. A man held out his hand to help a woman down her final few steps and then escorted her with her arm through his. The next man did the same for the next woman, and then the third man for the third woman.

All were dressed elegantly, the men in tuxedos with white ties and polished boots, and the women in beaded dresses that fell past their knees, gloves to above their elbows, and furs around their shoulders.

"It's truly wonderful that you were able to attend at last, Your Excellency," A new voice said, female, heavily accented. Eastern European, you believed, "My husband and I have been eager to introduce you to the leader of tonight's gathering."

"I appreciate it immensely, Lady Botezatu," His Excellency replied, "I was delighted to have received the invitation."

If you'd had the presence of mind to be curious, you would've noted the name, turned it over in your head, snapped the piece into place where it belonged. Because you knew that name. However, the sound of the men and women nearing made your pulse rush like a roar in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut, turned to tuck yourself as close as you could to the wall, back against the cabinet, pleading that you wouldn't be found.

Closer. Closer. The footsteps and voices were right above you now.

"Here you are, Raj" Lord Althan said pleasantly as he claimed one of the nosed masks and handed it to His Excellency. "Your lovely bride can help you attach it, I'm sure."

With big, terrified eyes, you watched Lord Althan remove another mask, one without a nose, and hand it to the woman beside His Excellency. And no one—your brow furrowed—seemed to notice you. Not even the slightest acknowledgment that you existed. You didn't want to push your luck, staying put with your hand remaining clapped across your mouth. However, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing up at the faces of the group gathered in front of you, helping each other tie the ribbons of the masks at the backs of their heads.

His Excellency turned around after helping his bride with her mask and you almost collapsed in shock.

"Ajay!?" You said before thinking about the consequences. You rose quickly and stumbled forward, attempting to clasp your hands around his forearms as he fiddled with the ribbon on the nosed mask he held. "Ajay, where are we? What's happening?" But...your hands passed right through him, his image distorting, coming apart like whisps of smoke before letting in again. "A-Ajay?"

With a strained whine, you studied his face and the longer you stared, the less he looked like Ajay. The resemblance, as uncanny as it was, was only that. A resemblance. And, furthermore, Not-Ajay, it appeared, couldn't see you. Couldn't hear you. In fact, none of the men and women paid you any mind whatsoever. To them, you were as real as a ghost.

"Fuck." The word punched out of you as you staggered back. The faces that hadn't been covered were eerily identical to ones you knew until you stared too long. Rhonda. Wally. Ajay. Maddie. And then the resemblances faded and left behind just the most subtle of like features. "What's happening?"

You were going crazy. Trapped in a nightmare of your own making after you couldn't keep the farmhouse door closed. God only knew where the others were. If the light that had ripped out from behind the farmhouse door had trapped them too. If they were experiencing the same thing. Or worse.

"Come along, Marjorie dear, we're already behind schedule." Lord Althan remarked, holding out his arm for her to take. He led the group to the back of the cellar, following the line of carpets before he paused at the wall. Not knowing what else to do, you trailed after them, observant though feeling faint as you tried to accept that you might never make it out of whatever coma or conjuring the farmhouse door had unleashed.

If this was a nightmare, you thought, there was only one way out. You had to see it through to the end.

You saw Lord Althan produce a pen-shaped piece of silver from his pocket. Sleek, smooth, nondescript, and rather unremarkable until Lord Althan pushed it tip-first into a tiny hole in the mortar that you never would've noticed on your own. When it was halfway in, you heard a heavy clank of metal and stone scraped against stone. Your jaw dropped as part of the wall sunk inward and then moved aside, revealing a steep rock stairwell lit by a line of low-burning torches.

The group herded into the stairwell, continuing their conversation, the men attentive to the women as they descended down down down into whatever was below the farmhouse cellar. The stairs were uneven, some tall, some short, and you briefly marveled at the ease the men and women ahead of you exhibited as they gracefully carried themselves to the bottom of the staircase.

You openly gaped at what lay beyond the staircase, taken aback by the sheer extravagance, so out of place for where you were. The narrow walls on either side of the staircase opened into a massive cavern that had been built and decorated to mimic a European palace. Italian marble floors, a grand fireplace with detailed carvings in the wood of the mantle, portraits of dour, aristocratic men and women kitted in ceremonial costume.

Your attention lingered on the portraits, particularly what the figures in them wore. Yes, the clothes were ceremonial as was usually the case when the rich were painted, but they were also...religious. In a way you had a difficult time putting your finger on. Not typical of the Abrahamic religions or Dharmic or Taoic. More Pagan. Celtic or Nordic, you weren't sure, but definitely Pagan. The figures in the portraits wore cloaks and were ornamented with etched daggers and wooden laurels bent and shapen into antlers. The one thing they all shared were the broaches pinned under the notches of their collars. Large, silver things with a symbol you'd seen in the pages of a book housed in your family's library. Three interlocking spirals. A triskele.

A tinkling sound, fine metal tapped on hollow crystal, echoed through the cavern, a man's voice calling out to announce, "Welcome all!"

You turned, gaze searching the crowd of what you guessed was about fifty or sixty people. Masked and in fine dress, all of them. They stood in a semi-circle facing you though their focus was on the man who spoke. You couldn't see much of him since he had his back to you, poised proudly in front of his flock. He was tall, broad-shouldered yet lithe, and had hair that had clearly once been blond though was turning grey.

"I am overjoyed that so many of you could join us on such an important and exciting night."

"Hear, hear!" The crowd exclaimed, lifting in unison their champagne coupes.

"My only regret is that my lovely wife seems to have gotten lost."

The crowd tittered at what you figured was meant to be a joke. Stepping closer, you tried to get a better look at the man, wanted to see if, like the men and women who you'd followed down here, he held any resemblance to someone you knew. Together, the crowd's focus shifted to something behind the man. He turned, a wide smile spreading across the part of his face that wasn't covered by his mask.

You went completely still as his eyes, unobscured unlike the others, settled on you. They were striking; bright seafoam green that within them held a wisdom and respect that transcended time. You shivered as those eyes, far too old for the face they belonged to, burned through you, heart hammering behind your ribs.

Slowly, the man reached out his free hand, smile softening, and said, "Ah, there you are," in a quiet tone. Private.

Just for you.

"We've been waiting."

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-FOUR - PART TWENTY-SIX

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Perfection

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: A passing comment makes you feel terrible about yourself. Fyodor and Nikolai disagree.

Set between Surprise and Sick Day

Warning: OOC. Body Insecurity. Hateful thinking during eating. Rude comments. Reader have hateful thoughts about themselves. English is my second language.

_______

You were in one of the many fast food restaurants in your city. Today you have a movie night and need some snacks for that. You were waiting in line for your turn to make order. Meanwhile, you read the menu once again. Maybe, something new was added.

Movie night was time full of unhealthy food and different movies, starting with classic films and ending up with any trashy movie you could find.

Today you were going to watch a bunch of Halloween movies. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and "Ghostbusters" with everyone. And, after kids go to bed, you will watch "Bram Stoker's Dracula" just to hear Bram's comments about vampires and "Nightmare on Elm Street".

You knew, that tonight's going to be fun.

"Hello, how may I help you?" asked the cashier. They looked a little bit interested in everything, that happened around. You smile.

"Hello. I will have seven big buckets of fried wings and five big french fries. Thank you."

You took money from your pocket and put them on the counter. You knew, how much you need to pay, it wasn't the first time you made the order.

Cashier's eyes widen. He looked at you from head to toes. He mumbles.

"I-It will be ready in a few minutes..."

The cashier disappeared behind the kitchen's door. You start waiting. You decide to have a better look at some pictures, that were on the wall.

While you were looking at them, you heard hashed voices coming from the kitchen.

"What? Seven buckets of fried wings and five big french fries? Won't they burst?" said an unfamiliar voice.

"They immediately took the right amount of money from their pocket. It looks like this is not the first time they have made this order. It's quite obvious, really. Just look at their... cheeks... hands... stomach... Look at their everything!" The cashier from earlier answered.

You saw his reflection in the window. He was pointing at you and making some gestures in the air. Like he was trying to draw a sphere in the air.

You became still. You tried to tell yourself, that their opinion shouldn't matter, that they just bored and thought that you were an easy target.

"They looked like a balloon. A barrel with lard!"

You grit your teeth. Will you two stop and give me my order?

Finally, they became bored and returned to the kitchen. In a few moments, you finally got your order.

You glare at the cashier, but didn't say anything. Soon you will be home, having a good time with your friends.

You stomped away from the restaurant, holding bags with food in your hands. For one moment, you saw your reflection in the restaurant's window.

Your... cheeks do look chubbier.... And arms...

You hurry to the car. Kunikida was waiting for you.

You put bags on the back sit and sat on the front passenger seat.

You were silent on your way home.

You were staring at your reflection in the car window.

Were your cheeks always that chubby?

________

This evening was too cold for a summer evening.

So you decide to put on your jacket.

New jacket... That just month weeks ago was big to you.

New jacket, that now you could hardly put on you.

Small... It was small for you.

You decide, that you aren't that cold.

_________

The table in the living room were full of junk food.

Popcorn, nachos, tacos, chips, fried wings, french fries and soda drinks.

So tasty... So unhealthy...

...so much food, that will make you fatter...

The movie was on...

And each snack you ate felt like a rock in your stomach...

_________

After movie night was over, you locked yourself in your bedroom.

You take a better look at yourself in the mirror.

You have gained weight.

It was impossible, not to do it, while living with BSD Cast. Ivan was a good baker, Junchirou's cooking was amazing, Kenji could fry a steak better, than in any fancy restaurant, Kyouka's cooking make you want seconds, and it was impossible to say 'no' to food, that was cooked by Fyodor and Nikolai.

And how you can refuse to share snacks with Ranpo, or not have a tea party with Kirako and Naomi?

You decide to lose some weight... Do more exercises, then usual.

And ate less...

________

You manage to skip breakfast.

You just said that you were too tired and want to sleep some more.

They didn't ask you any questions.

You manage to skip lunch.

You pretend to be sleeping. Still.

You were forced to have dinner.

You couldn't sleep all day.

You are dinner with everyone. For dinner, you had mushed potatoes and pork.

You ate some mushed potatoes...

...your hips will be even wider...

You ate some pork..

... your stomach soon will look like you swallowed a globe...

You were smiling and talking with Atsushi, discussing last news...

And ate... Ate... Ate...

...they were right, you are a barrel with lard...

It takes your everything not to make yourself vomit after the dinner. If you didn't lose weight...

... soon they will leave a fat ball like you...

Everything is going to be okay... More exercises and less food... It will help...

________

For one week, you were trying to lose weight.

You train with Hunting Dogs even harder than before.

You didn't notice worried glances, that Teruko and Fukuchi cast at you. You didn't notice Jounou's attempts to make you rest. You didn't notice Tachihara's and Tetchou's hesitation, while they were exercising with you.

You didn't notice, that you looked less and less healthy.

_________

For one week, you skipped meals.

You find any excuse you could. Any reason you could find.

"I am not hungry" "Sorry, I need to finish something for my university" "I need to be somewhere right now, will have dinner in the city."

You choose to ignore worried glances.

You didn't manage to skip meals completely. You ate some fruits and vegetables every day. Not enough for a real meal.

You refused to have snacks with Ranpo. You choose to ignore, how hurt he looked, while hearing your 'no' for the third time in a week.

You refused to drink tea with Kirako and Naomi. You choose to ignore their questions, if they did something wrong.

You ignored, that you became more and more weaker.

______

You were banned from going to the training area. Something about you needing some rest and stop overworking yourself.

You could protest, but Gide and Verlaine, who were guiding the entrance to the training area, didn't look even slightly interested in hearing your arguments.

You couldn't do anything, so you return home.

And you immediately were greeted by Nikolai and Fyodor. Kolya grinned.

"Hey, [Y/N], let's have some lunch! I made pampushky¹ and Fedya made borscht! You will like it!"

Borscht and pampushky...

... even more fat...

... what if, back in May, Fyodor only asked to cuddle with you, because you were fat and warm, and he was cold?...

You lick your lips and mumbles.

"I can't... I must go to the library... In university library..."

Fyodor and Nikolai stared at each other.

Fyodor spoke. His voice was soft.

"Myshonok... Today is Sunday."

You close your eyes. What reason... Any reason...

You opened your mouth, trying to say something else, when a small bun was carefully shoved into your mouth.

"Here, Birdy, try it.... Please, just eat something..." Nikolai's voice sounded pleading.

You want to spit it out. But you had no other choice, but chew.

Fat pig... Hideous creature... You can't even hold yourself together...

You swallowed.

Before you can say something else, a spoon was put into your mouth.

Borscht... Warm soup... With meat and cabbage...

And sour cream...

"Myshonok, you need to eat. Stop starving yourself." Fyodor's voice was firm.

You will gain more weight... Even more clothes won't fit you...

You swallowed.

You looked at Nikolai and Fyodor. Both of them looked happy, that you ate at least one pampushka and one spoon of borscht.

And you despised yourself.

Nikolai took a step closer to you. He put his hands on your shoulders.

"Was it good? I sure, it was. I will bring another one... Oh, and a bowl of Fyodor's borscht! Just let me..."

You didn't know, what made you do this, but you were so close to screaming at Nikolai for giving you bread. You want to hurt Fyodor for forcing you to eat soup with sour cream.

hurt them hurt them them them make them pay say that you hate Them say that you hate them hurt them HURT YOURSELF

SAY THAT YOU HATE THEM

You open your mouth...

...hate them for what? For being your friends? For sticking around? For spending time with you? For worrying about you?...

...When was the last time you ate? Have a full meal and not a piece of apple? When was the last time you spent time with others? Were you even talking to Hunting Dogs while training? Did you say 'hello' to them...

You let out a quiet sob.

And immediately were pressed against Fyodor's chest. He draped his coat over you.

"Коля, я сейчас пойду и поговорю с Мышонком. Пора докопаться до правды. Сможешь сделать так, чтобы нас не побеспокоили?²" Fyodor's voice was calm. His grip was strong. You heard Nikolai's voice.

"Я це зроблю. Вас ніхто не потурбує.³" He sounds... worried. He stepped closer to Fyodor and lift the coat.

"Please... I miss you..."

He softly rubbed his cheek against yours and stepped away.

Fyodor's coat were once again draped over you.

You didn't resist, when Fyodor start leading you somewhere.

_____

The door closes behind you.

Fyodor removed his coat.

Both of you were in your room.

Your breathing was hard.

Fyodor was just standing here. Looking at you.

He spoke first.

"Myshonok, what's going on? You haven't eaten for one week, you hardly talk to anyone. We are worried about you."

You didn't answer. You were just swallowing tears, that were running down your cheeks.

You feel Fyodor's breath on your ear.

"[Y/N], please, talk to me."

You finally found your voice.

You told him about cashiers. About your sweater. About your insecurities. About hating yourself for eating food. About wanting to hurt Kolya and him just moments ago.

When you finish talking, only your sobs were heard.

Fyodor carefully squeezed your shoulders.

"[Y/N], everything about you is perfect. You are perfect, both inside and outside."

Your eyes met with Fyodor's purple eyes. They were so soft, so full of hidden affection. His hands cupped your cheeks.

"You aren't disgusting. You should not change because of some random person comments. And you only hurt yourself. You were almost starving all this week, you stopped talking to any of us. You try to make as many exercises as Tetchou normally do!"

Fyodor put his face closer to yours.

"Please, don't hurt yourself. If you feel down, just came to any of us. We all love you and want you to be happy. And for me..."

He kissed your cheek.

"For me, you are nothing less, than a perfection."

His eyes were so warm. You sobbed and hide your face in his chest.

He was warm. His embrace was everything you need right now.

"I... I..." you can't form a full sentence. Fyodor whispered, petting your head.

"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... It will be okay..."

Fyodor took a step back, without breaking the embrace. He opened the door. You hear footsteps.

Now you were hugged by Fyodor and Nikolai at the same time.

Now you were sure, that everything is going to be fine.

_______

After you calm down, Fyodor, Nikolai and you had lunch together. It's not only was tasty, but very filling.

Then you three had a movie marathon. You were nested between Fyodor and Nikolai. A large bowl of popcorn with butter, salt and caramel was placed on your lap. It was tasty.

You had dinner with everyone. They were so happy, seeing you again. You felt, how the rest of your worries and sadness disappeared.

But, the last of bit of your sadness truly disappeared, when you were laying on your bed, in a middle of Fyodor and Nikolai cuddle sandwich. Your head were laying on Nikolai's chest. Fyodor's face were pressed against the back of your head.

Before drifting to sleep, you feel, how Fyodor kissed you on the back of your neck.

And whispered.

"Ты само совершенство, [Т/И].⁴"

______

1. Pampushky - a small savory or sweet yeast-raised bun or doughnut typical for Ukrainian cuisine.

2. Russian. "Kolya, I’ll go and talk to Baby mouse. It's time to get to the bottom of this. Can you make sure we won't be disturbed?

3. Ukrainian. "I will do it. No one will bother you."

4. Russian. "You are a true perfection, [Y/N]."

[kimoralov3]

kimmy's halloween sleepover

i've always wanted to do one of these, and you know what they say: better late than never!!! if you don't know how sleepovers work, basically you send one of the prompts below with one of the characters i write for and then i'll respond to them :P

scream - 18+ only, send your whorish thoughts so we can talk

american psycho - select a character and i'll tell you how i think they'd respond to a scary movie

nightmare before christmas - select a character and i'll write a sad blurb for them

it's the great pumpkin charlie brown - select a character and i'll write a happy blurb for them

beetlejuice - send in your random "spooky" headcanon for your favorite character

hocus pocus - select a character and i'll tell you exactly how into halloween they are

get out - select a character and i'll tell you if i think they'd survive a scary movie or not

paranormal activity - i'll cast my mutuals in a movie/tv show of your choice

the craft - 18+ only, fuck, marry, kill

tagging some mutuals that i think might be interested: @arkofblake @murdockcastleslut @ivysprophecy

[gameraboy2]

What a Nightmare, Charlie Brown (1978)

[combustiblegarbage]

you know i was thinking of how remarkable it is that fma03 really dives deep into this idea of like. avoiding "respectability politics" with scar. scar is an ishbalan, and everyone is afraid of ishbalans and thinks of them as criminals, and scar kills people. he does the thing that people are afraid he will do! i'm thinking about how france here and how as a country they have made it a uniquely national crusade to be insanely islamophobic in all walks of life; and how over the past 10 years there have been several very public attacks and/or incidents which claim to be associated with ISIS or some other extremist group (i am thinking of the paris nightclub shooting and specifically charlie hebdo too because hoo boy was that an example of french white folks going "see we TOLD YOU you should be scared of muslims!")

and like. this idea is present in fma03 too, that an ishbalan person committing crimes and killing people is like a self-fulfilling prophecy, is something that can and should be used to politically justify more policies against them (the ishbalans we see are constantly being shuffled around and "resettled" to different areas by the state!). but what's extraordinary for a tv show like this, esp in 2003, is that instead of turning around and saying "so this is why you have to be careful/cautious around ishbalans/this is why these policies are justified" etc the show explicitly and quite clearly says, "these policies are what CREATED scar."

HE IS CALLED, SCAR! he is a physical representation of the painful bodily gash left in the corpus of his people, he is the embodiment of their trauma. AND HE'S COMING TO GET YOU, BARBARA! he's the boogeyman! the state is terrified of him! he is their own nightmare made real - not just an ishbalan that fights back, which would be one thing - which could easily be crushed in war - but a walking dead man, a zombie, the corpse of his own people who is not permitted to die until he has exacted his revenge. his RIGHTEOUS revenge! his revenge he DESERVES! the revenge the narrative paints, at the end of the day, as something noble and triumphant. scar! who in any other world would be called a terrorist! every time i think about it too much i really am shocked at how explicitly the show places itself on his side.

it's just crazy to me that this media from 2003 (TWO THOUSAND THREE!) refuses to engage in "look at this evil scary brown man; this is why we need to oppress the evil scary brown people, because one of them will attack us" and rather says, "oppression has CREATED this creature, and now he's fighting back." he's frankenstein's monster, created by the state! and that is exactly what imperialist policy in the global south does; it creates its own justification for violence. scar interrupts that cycle. he starts off as a dead man walking, and then slowly the audience begins to understand him as a person - as a priest, as a brother, as an injured human being in pain. as an angel of vengeance!

anyway fma03 did it better!

[lumizwrld]

𝑴 𝑼 𝑺 𝑬 . . .

"WHAT. . .WILL IT TAKE?. . ."

➢ Charlie Walker x Black Fem Reader ✩

✴︎ word count - 3.4k

⚠︎NSFW WARNING⚠︎ Charlie being obsessed w/ you, him trying to be a dom but failing, slightly dom but sub reader, praising, dirty talking, fucking him at school (specifically on the teacher's desk), almost getting caught, rough play, whimpering and neediness galore ☾ ONLY CHARLIE WALKER'S PERSPECTIVE ☽

✍︎ Summary = Charlie's eyes couldn't seem to leave your pretty face during the cinema club meeting, you were dazed in his manic mind. However, after the meeting ends---he strives for a real-life fantasy. . . or so he thinks. ✧

"Tell me exactly what you want Y/N..."

"Charlie wait..."

"Am I m-makin' you uncomfortable?"

Her voice roams in my head like a hypnotic song I can't seem to escape from, it's deadly to ignore. Her gentle, deep, seductive voice that I wish I never heard at all. Call me crazy but it's like she's cursed me, and no matter what I think about, it's her behind it all. Her soft gasps of air felt like a reward for me to hear, especially when I knew for a fact that it all came from me. Her body, resting in a seated position with her hands holding her up on the teacher's desk, her beautiful legs separated from me in the way of them. Her pretty brown eyes, locked to my face as she felt me all over her fucking body like a pillow, looking down into my eyes like a goddess. This was the most exciting moment, a wish come true, her being my victim. She doesn’t understand how much she makes me ache. I wish she could so she sees herself through my eyes and finally understands how perfect she is to me.

I get it, we don’t necessarily talk that much, but every time we see each other, whether in English or the hallways, my eyes express themselves however, my thoughts were louder. I’d dream of her tearing me down in front of everyone. Her little fuck show, tuning in the whole school's attention. How I’d have everyone witness me lose myself within her, make her cry my name, and ruin her pretty reputation all for the sake of me. 

"No, it's just..." She replied, glimpsing her pretty eyes down on my lips. A soft little grin appeared on her face, "It looks like you're rushing."

My hands stopped on her thighs. It wasn't me rushing. I just never thought there would be an actual chance of me ever getting this close to her, feeling her up like this, hearing her talk in this way. But, I didn't want to drop those thoughts out loud to her. Make this moment turn into a nightmare for me, "I-I'm sorry." I laughed. "I'm not trying to—I jus' wanna make sure I'm makin' you feel good."

"Charlie," She whispered, my lips quivering at her voice, feeling her exhale hit my lips.

"Yeah?" My voice pitched with nerves, slightly raising an eyebrow as my lips parted at her right hand caressing upwards on my chest.

"Take your time." She tugged on my shirt, pulling me close as she went for my ear. She gave these soft kisses, hearing her breaths sing their way into my ear while I stood there in total shock, fully taking her in. "What's on your mind right now?"

I groaned in slight frustration, squeezing my hands on her thighs. "I...I can't tell you."

"Yes, you can." She encouraged, sliding her hand down to my stomach. "I wanna hear your pretty voice Charlie, tell me." I clenched my jaw, nodding in disagreement but wanting to give in to her demand, I didn't want to make it seem like I'd rush this. Instead, hoping to sidetrack her, I lightly ran my hands upwards under her black skirt, sensing the rips of her stockings and soft brown skin in unison. I thought—I could refuse without really denying myself, but then she grasped my belt buckle, making this even worse for me. She tilted her head, "Just tell me."

"Fuck-" I whimpered, "No I can't I-"

"Char," She inched for a kiss, her left hand which was on my belt came onto my cheek. Her eager tongue brushed against mine, making a moan of mine travel into her mouth, "I know you're deep in thought." She separated, backing away from my urge to continue the kiss. "Let me inside of your head…"

"Y/N..." I felt her hands go back down my body, reaching to the bottom of my shirt, gliding her fingertips under to scratch me. A yearning look was all she gave me, overbearing eyes that put me to shame. “You don’t understand you—you’re already there.”

“How am I there?” She teased, placing her hands on my belt buckle again. Slowly, she loosened the buckle and then the strap, keeping her eyes directly on mine as she watched my reaction show nothing but a pathetic mess of trembling. “How?”

“I-I don’t want--I just-I can’t tell you…exactly.” Then there she went, unzipping my fly as I watched her eyes pout at me.

“Don't be scared Charlie, you can tell me okay?” She urgently bit her lip, desperately trying to get me to expose myself but—her hand slid down under my pants then boxers, that’s when her eyes gleamed at my sudden burst of reaction. I instantly looked down at what she was doing, releasing a small moan at her soft touch. But then she used her other hand to face me back to her, “Let me in.”

“I…” I exhaled, “I want you…” I surrendered hesitantly, leaning my head into her palm. “I wanted you to do this to me--for the longest.”

“That's it...” She whispered with a tilt of her head, “Talk to me handsome.”

“I wanna do everythin' to you…” I submitted, huffing as she exposed me from my pants. “I wanna-” I soon felt her fingers rub the tip, making me wince and squeeze tighter on her thighs.

“You wanna?” She smiled at my reaction as she began her strokes, however she only focused on the tip. “What? Charlie?” She whispered, her hand stroking in a circular motion.

“I wanna—” I whimpered, the sensation being sensitive to the point where I couldn’t even make out what I wanted to say anymore, I ended up moaning, frowning my eyebrows. “Wait n-not the tip--Y/N-”

"I wanna be on it.” She claimed, kissing my cheek as the pace went slightly faster. She made me weak, using me like a fucking toy in this moment. God, how I loved this. Using me like I was a complete joke to her. For a moment, she paused, waiting for me to speak again but all I could give was a struggling groan. “What’s wrong?” She whispered. Her eyes went all over my frame in a concerned manner but I could tell she was teasing. “Hey…” She spoke again.

“I wanna be inside…” I finally replied, placing my fingertips on the outside of her stockings, layers covering her pussy from me. But this was my open opportunity to give my all to her. Her eyes widened at my touch, my fingers gripping the fabric, ripping them to make an entrance but then her panties came after. “I-I want that…so bad…” I begged breathlessly, eyes falling to her lips. I watched her part them, her clenched teeth that gave me a sign. The way she was trying to be onto me, I was already onto her. “You told me t' tell you right?” I hesitated slightly, her legs spreading wider at my response.

“Be honest.” She replied. Her thighs bucked at my fingers sliding down the center of her panties, she was wet, bothered by me. I hooked a finger on the hem, sliding her panties to the side, exposing her pussy. “Charlie…” She purred, “Be honest with me.” Her hands went to my face, caressing my jaw and cheek. Her tone was so urgent, making me tremble more I thought about how rough I was about to be. But, what if she wanted that? She moved herself closer to the edge of the teacher's desk, “Don’t hold back from me. Do everything you want, I can handle it.”

“But—what if I hurt you?” I questioned, my heart pounding out of my chest which gave me a piercing feeling.

“Do it to me.” She whispered, giving me a careless kiss. I melted in her presence once again, her right hand falling down to my dick once again, her fingers trailing to the tip as I broke the kiss from the sensation. However, she forced her lips on me again, bringing me closer to her body.

She separated from me, "I'll do it." I responded as she rubbed my tip on the lips of her pussy, hearing her soft moans vanish into the air. "I'll d-do it--fuck..." So sensitive, that it made me nervous to even be inside her, I couldn't even do it myself. But she was so eager to feel me, she didn't hesitate to place me inside her. All of this, happening in the classroom.

I loved how we moaned in unison, her pretty eyes in mine as I went in deep. I couldn't take her warmth, her wetness, straining me already and we didn't even start yet. I actually felt fucking pathetic, but I watched her fingers trail to her clit, slowly caressing it as she leaned back a little. She was needy for me...

"Don't look away from me Charlie, look at me when you fuck me please." She gasped, biting her lips as I parted mine.

"You're so beautiful Y/N, I..." I whispered, holding back a whimper as her eyes frowned at me, my pace being slow, her whore-like actions but innocent-like face. I knew she wanted me to talk to her, and I wanted to but I couldn't focus on this even happening. She was supposed to be a fantasy to me, give me something to look for during school, I never had the thought to say how I felt upfront. She was supposed to be a beautiful memory of mine after we graduate.

She tossed her head back, letting a moan fly out of her mouth as I took the hand that was focused on her clit, kissing it as if it was her lips. "I'm serious." I stated, "But--I want you to look at me too." I released her hand, reaching for her neck. She gasped, feeling me tighten and bring her in close to me.

"Oh fuck," She moaned, piercing her eyes into mine. “Yeah?”

"Uh-huh, look at me with those pretty eyes." I begged, picking the pace up with my strokes.

"Tighter." She demanded, grabbing my wrist. I fell into her command, gripping her tighter, hearing her shriek. Her eyes frowned in eagerness, “Fuck me in honesty--"

"I am," I whispered, glancing at her lips and then back up to her eyes. I soon traveled upwards on her cheek, caressing her lips with my thumb. "I wanna be so honest with you.

I..I wanna make you feel good beautiful.

Am I?" I whined, tilting my head as I watched her nod urgently in response.

She was so horny, sensing her body grind with me inside. "You’re doing so fucking good Char." She groaned as I released her face, she soon snatched a kiss off me again. How her vicious moans entered my mouth, making my pace slow down, feeling her hands rush their way all over my chest then upwards to my hair. Grasping my roots, she guided my head down to her neck. “You’re mine.” She whispered, my lips brushing on her skin.

“I’m yours-I’m all yours Y/N,” I whined, "I wanna be all yours mommy." I sucked her sweet brown skin, leaving a bite that made her shriek out a cry. "Did I hurt you?" I panted, thrusting myself harder into her. I faced myself to her, watching her suck my thumb and then lick up on it.

"Oh my god--" She moaned, kissing my thumb as her grip went tighter on me. "Call me that again handsome."

"Mommy..." I tilted my head at her once again, soon breaking the eye contact from the sensitivity. I winced, "Fuck, I-I can't I-"

"You're so horny aren't you," She encouraged, "so sensitive, fucking me hard like this?"

"Oh fuck, i-it's all your fault." I groaned at her response, thrusting faster as her whimpers grew louder. "Be loud beautiful, n-no one can hear you."

Her mind went into a haze, watching her slightly drained expression look over at the door. She seemed tired, taking in all of my pent, my desire to the point where it strained her out but she wanted more I could certainly tell. Her moans turned into cries, taking both of her arms and wrapping them around me, "Y-You're gonna make me--" She struggled, "Oh my---Charlie-" She exclaimed at what she saw from the door, which was a teacher passing by. Her embrace loosened, "W-Wait stop stop please-"

"No no no." I forced her face to me, "You were so into this- you forgot that were still in school beautiful." I comforted her, feeling her nervous state tremble.

"We have to stop we-" She claimed, until I interrupted her with a kiss to make her shut up her fears.

I continued to fuck her, I wasn't going to let anything stop me from this moment. But, her being nervous, made me want her even more. It was a drive, a rush I felt. "I wanna please you Y/N." I urged in a soft tone, "I'd do anything for you."

"Charlie stop." She moaned, throwing her head back with her eyes closed. "Fuck--fuck me, give yourself to me you fucking--" Then her moans caught her off guard, how much I admired seeing her slut like state coming back out to haunt me.

"What am I princess?"

She raised her head again, her face of pleasure striking at me as she grasped my jaw, "You're a good boy." She whimpered, "You're being such a good boy for me, the way you think of me, you're so desprate for me ..."

"I'd kill for you," I urged. "fuck so desperate for you..."

"Fuck--what if someone comes?" She panted.

"Nobody's coming, nobody okay?" I reassured her, taking my right hand and finding my way down to her clit. "Focus on me."

Her mouth opened, my thumb circling her anxious clit as I tried to be in rhythm with my strokes. She was so fucking sexy. I really wanted to please her, but this moment had me so bothered to the point where... I felt my body warm up instantly, fuck, I can't yet. We just started...I didn't want to cum at all.

"Touch me just like that," She whispered, taking one of her hands and trailing it up her body until she got to her breast. "Just like that-- play with mommy's clit just like that pretty boy."

My eyes frowned, circling her faster as my body increased its warmth. "You're so fucking sexy oh my god." I moaned, "You're so perfect to me."

"I am?" She bit back a moan, squeezing her breast in pure temptation from me. "I'm perfect Charlie?"

"Oh your so perfect t' me you really don't understand Y/N," I claimed, pressing down on her clit, observing her body rise as well as her expression. Her whimpers sounded like a lullaby to me, so drunk of me, giving me the upper hand on her fragile body. “I’m doing nothing to you.” I whispered, “I’m barely touching you.”

"Mmh' no don't tease me like that now." She whined, her thighs going into a bucking state from the sensation.

"Mmh' but you like it, look at you," I whispered as her moans interrupted me. "Yeah, just like this mommy, I'm gonna play with you just like this okay?"

"Play with me please," She inched her face close to me, urgent to kiss me however as badly as I wanted to kiss her, I restrained myself. "Please, Charlie." She whined.

I nodded at her response, but then a loud moan of mine interrupted my motion on her. Her face went in worry when I began to slow down, raising an eyebrow as I immediately took myself out of her. "Charlie?" She called out, witnessing my shameful stance, me--holding my tip as my head went down in exhaustion. Shit, this was really embarrassing.

"I-I'm sorry...I feel it..." I nervously chuckled, raising my head at her. "it was fast I-I know I'm sorry I just-"

"Continue," She grasped my shirt, pulling me back in close to her again as she grasped the wrist that held me back, "I mean that, I want you to play with me..." Her soft voice, her hands grabbing my dick once again, guiding me back inside of her again. The sensation was a thousand times sensitive than the first time--like I could just cum right now and honestly ruin myself.

But it was slow, and her voice soothed my embarrassing state, yet this time, I fell back into submission to her. As much as I wanted to really do everything to her, it was really her doing everything to me. I wanted her to use me to her full extent, use me like a fucking toy like before. Her soft gaze, watching my trembling face, seeing her pretty evil smile yet again. Fuck just let me have all of you.

Literally...

"I need you..." I panted, "Take control of me." She caressed my face, my hands finding their way around her body, fully embracing her as she kissed my cheek. "Are you s-sure you still wanna do this with me Y/N, I-I might cum..."

"Make a mess inside me." She demanded, my eyes widening in surprise. For a second, I struggled to say something, looking down at her body but then she giggled at me. "You're nervous to fuck me now aren't you?" Her hand placed loose strands of my hair behind my ear, "It's right there, isn't it?"

"I-It is..." I glanced at her lips. soon taking her word in and beginning to thrust slowly into her with slight worry in my eyes. "Keep talking to me like that please, talk to me baby."

"You're gonna cum if I do Charlie." She teased in a whisper, "Remember your mine handsome, all fucking mine to use."

I parted my lips, feeling her grasp my jaw and bring me close. "Make me cum Y/N, make me please fucking make me."

She bit my bottom lip, her moans driving me fucking insane to the point where I straight up kissed her, wanting her to do it all in my mouth, her tongue intertwining with mine. Still with the slow strokes, I went harder, desperate to just do as she said.

In a sense, I was right there. But I edged slightly. Until she grasped my neck, "You're gonna ruin yourself for me?"

"All for you," I struggled, "All fucking for you..."

"It feels so good doesn't it?" She purred, soon moaning with me in unison while I urgently placed my right hand on her cheek. "Oh my god, you feel it?"

"Mmhmm." I pouted my eyes at her, "I feel it Y/N..."

"Cum for me Charlie, give me all of you." She demanded as I dropped my head, slightly thrusting faster.

"Do it baby," She encouraged me, holding a whimper back.

"I feel it...I'm gonna cum mommy..."

"Do it Charlie." She moaned, lifting my face to make me look at her before I release.

"I'm gonna--"

"Charlie," She moaned out.

"Charlie..."

.

.

"Charlie?" She questioned, nudging my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"He's always in his fucking head, this isn't anything new." Robbie called out, folding his arms.

In reality...I would never get the real chance to do it...

In reality, she was in front of me, standing beside Robbie, all three of us just having a conversation about the Stab-A-Thon happening tonight...

"Char?" She softly called out, soon taking me out of my head. I glanced up at her from my eyes being lost on the floor, she was holding the strap of her bag in her hands, her concerned eyes watching me nervously realize what was going on at this moment.

"S-Sorry, I zoned out for a minute I-"

"It's okay, I do it too it's normal." She answered with a smile, soon hearing Robbie scoff.

"Yeah it's normal," he spoke out, soon walking to my side and placing his arm around me. "Unless you're him, always spacing out, why's that Charlie hm?" He looked at her, basically the both of us looked at her, but then my eyes dropped to the floor.

"Cut that shit out man," I spoke out, pushing him away from me as she tilted her head at me.

"You're just in your head, I get it." She walked up to me, her slightly taller frame overbearing me in the sexiest way possible, my eyes shot up into her eyes. "I'll be there tonight, like I said before."

"Yeah?" I smiled softly, "I-I better see you there then."

"Don't worry, you will." She insisted, taking small steps back towards the door. "See you guys later." She waved, seeing Robbie's attention not even pay any mind to her however, I watched her like a movie, her eyes rolling at his blank response but then focusing on me.

"Bye, Charlie." She spoke softly, making me weak all over again just at the thought...

I was right...

My thoughts were always louder...

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The nurse and the nerd

Charlie Walker x fem!reader

warning : +18, handjob, kissing, implied drug use (medications), mentioning of wounds, no use of Y/n, minor degradation

Summary : After Ghostface had struck Jill dead in the hospital again by the heroine Sidney. But Charlie Walker, the second killer, has survived and is now in an asylum where he has a special relationship with a certain nurse…with even more special treatments

Info : Yeah back with Charlie I missed writting for the film nerd and thought hey what if...so yeah have fun reading and hope you like it ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another massacre that struck the small town. Another night of murders that made everyone afraid, another night when the nightmare vans had to drive to a certain house. A night in which Ghostface was caught because he wasn't stabbed too hard. A fact that his accomplice would not live to see because she died at the legendary hands of Sidney, or so the news said.

Either way, it was the talk of the nightmares that were also running in the nurses' room of the prison…for weeks nothing else seemed to have taken hold of the boring little town, not that she was complaining but it was becoming such a hustle and bustle that it was almost too much.

,,It's a murder I mean murders and it's almost like the presidential election who's where and what" she said and heard the smirk of her superior who had been here for a while and had already noticed the Ghostface's first act. ,,Well, nothing else happens in Woodsboro and so we have a little celebrity here," she said, pointing to the room at the end of the corridor with the special patient.

He alone had already cost the Asylum a few break-out attempts and, above all, appointments with the press. She herself could hardly cope with the reporters' floodlights when she had to stand next to him.

That smile on his lips, confident and above all on her face…yes, she had read the interviews and he had almost gone a little too far. But she knew that the further she stood around, the longer it would take them to get home.

With a sigh, she took the silver tray on which the medication and bandages were lying before she said goodbye to her colleague with a ,,You can do it, ask for an autograph!", which was returned with a shake of the head before she left the nurses' room and went to her little darling. Knocking on the door and looking round one last time, she heard the almost cheerful ,,Come in" before she went into the room with the sign with Charlie Walker's name on it.

As always, she found him lying on the bed even though she was sure he was walking around, she had seen him walking around often enough, seen him doing other activities…special activities.

Yet he looked so innocent, not like a murderer, like a simple nerd. The long brown curly hair gently combed by him under her watch, the blue eyes that were still on her had never left her. The loose clothes, the white shirt that looked too big and the sweatpants that matched the grey socks.

,,You're back, my angel," he said, leaning forward slightly and making a pained face as if he was going to be stabbed again. But she shrugged it off with a roll of her eyes and put the tray on the white bedside table as she sat her down by his bed. ,,Oh, our little star is in need of help," she murmured, taking the newspaper from his lap and seeing that he had opened the interview.

His face, contorted with pain, showed a slight shame as she began to read through the interview. ,,Especially my personal nurse who takes such good care of me and looks after me, I really appreciate her," she read his last sentence and couldn't help but laugh reproachfully at his flattery and lies.

Rising from the bed, she set the paper down on the bedside table before grabbing the bandages and pulling his shirt off his torso without waiting. ,,Don't be so hasty, darling," Charlie began, but was interrupted when she pressed on the not yet fully healed cut and made him open up.

,,You appreciate me Charlie? I know you do but if this is how it's going to be I'm going to be transferred…it has to stay a secret understand?" she asked ignoring his pleading look to touch him more gently as she pressed a little harder on the wound and the gasp turned into a pained moan.

,,Yes-yes, of course, I'm just grateful," he said hastily and relaxed when she took the pressure off him and continued with her work. Her hands ran gently over his skin, cool, slightly rough hands from working with people. Rough hands like his hands that had once held a knife. Hands that now walked slowly to her, holding onto her like a helpless victim.

Yet they both knew that he was not a victim, he was the perpetrator who was now helplessly injured in the asylum and under her mercy. She ignored his hands and began to tend to his wound actually carefully and somehow lovingly at the end of the day she was not only paid for it maybe she liked it, maybe it was a mutual attraction.

His need for her and her care that was almost taken up by the younger one. Fortunately, the stitches were not fatal, he was given pills for the pain, to sleep and when he was exercising, but otherwise he was fine.

So well that she knew where this meeting would go again when she saw his gaze avoid hers once more, her gentle touch something he did not deserve. Kirby had only ever played with him, the stupid bitch had to die for it, it was that simple, but she was his pretty nurse, she was good to him.

Didn't see him as a loose cannon and looked after him almost like a mother, while she was just the right amount of strict. ,,What are you daydreaming about Charlie?" she mumbled to him, seeing him flinch as if she had caught him doing something when he tried to sit up slightly, but her hand came to rest on his middle. She wasn't stupid, of course, she had seen him look at her in shock, almost holding his breath, a wince going through his hips and legs several times.

He was a little sucker for pain, even if he didn't want to admit it. ,,Nothing…I really don't…only your care is so good," he stammered, his blue eyes darting around and repeatedly lingering on the bust of her body pressed against the white fabric of her uniform.

The white trousers that framed her behind and his gaze always rested on them when she turned round, her hips framed by the white shirt on which he would so like to lay his hands.

He had fallen for the angel in the white dress, his sweet nurse who treated him so well. He barely noticed how his cock began to show through his jogging bottoms as her fingers slowly closed around his hardness and she leaned towards him.

Her smell surrounded him as he moved his hips with a whimper, trying to get more friction as she held him out. ,,I'm good so good for you, aren't I?" she asked, whispering the words to him as he nodded his head into the pillow, begging her to kiss him.

Briefly sloppy and rewarding as she began to stroke his cock. Sensing how needy he was even though they had done this several times, he never seemed to get enough of her.

She knew that anyone could come into the room but where would the fun be if they didn't? ,,You know you deserve it all, don't you? The pain, the stalling…a naive virgin," she chided as she ran her other hand over his body, squeezing the wound lightly again, his groan louder than before as he thrust against her, trying to get more of that feeling.

,,Y-yes I deserve…it all ma'm all" he mumbled chuckling his head moving back and forth into the pillow praying her words and amusement made his cheeks redden.

He continued to cling to her with his hands, his pleading and begging more interrupted only now and then by her kisses that stifled his whimpering pathetic noises.

His moans and whimpers filled the room with shameless noises, the almost wet squeaking coming from his cock, the precum running out of the tip in single drops every time she ran her thumb over the sensitive tip, squeezing it slightly and making it twitch again.

The space when they were together seemed to get smaller just the two of them. An unfortunate murderer rubbing against her like a writhing worm not a picture of a poor murderer being deceived.

He was the scum of society, a thought that had often crossed his mind as often as he served, his pretty blue eyes releasing those tears.

Kissing away his tears, taking away his pain from her before she got tired of his pleading. ,,I'll let you come if you don't open your sweet little mouth like that in public," she demanded, watching his foggy mind try to make sense of her words. His puffy lips red from the kisses and his biting on them to stifle the embarrassed noises.

,,Yes-yes-yes please…I'll be quiet…I promise," he mumbled, barely able to contain himself as his partner watched this for a few more moments before she let him come, picking up the pace one last time and pressing her other hand to his mouth. Stifling a loud moan, he felt the last twitching movements go through his body as his body stilled and she took her hands off him.

Watching him close his eyes, his chest rose and fell and he relaxed as she cleared her throat, ,,Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, holding out the cum-stained liquid on her hand. He might be cute, amorous and sweetly pathetic but in the end he was a murderer, a patient under her over whom she had power.

Like a good eared boy, he wouldn't get out of here without her and as he looked at her with a pleasurable, perversely flashing look before licking her hand.

Her praise for him was pleasure she knew that if she continued this game he would not only be hard again but he would also beg to kneel in front of her, leaning between her thighs. ,,If only the press knew what kind of murderer you are," she said as she gathered her things and saw how the words must have struck the right chords in his head.

He probably swallowed hard as he imagined her giving interviews on camera while he knelt before her. He was getting love and part of a film epic.

She fixed the things on the silver tray before giving him one last kiss on the forehead, knowing that when the door closed behind her, those ominous noises would come from his cell again until she started her next shift…her next shift to take care of her good boy and not a murderer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star , @roryculkinsgf , @angelsanarchy , @ria-coolgirl , @sl4sh3rfuck3r , @eddie-munsons-mommy

[k-marzolf]

fic idea—you live with Billy and one night he hears screaming/rustling/heavy breathing from your room. thinking there’s an intruder or some kind of danger, he breaks in but you’re having a nightmare. and then comfort.

love love LOVE your work btw! no worries if you’re busy 💗

Hi, Nonnie! I’m sorry it took a bit to respond, but I actually really like how this came out. I don’t know if you wanted roommate or established relationship. But I went with roommates and Billy is fresh outta the marines. Thank you for this request, I really enjoyed it,p!

@e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @milea @zz-kennedy @briannareneea985 @thejanecampaign @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @firexfate @firequeensposts @danzer8705 @ittybxttykxttytxtty @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @cant-help-simping @aoi-targaryen @snowkestrel @idaofinfinity @oops89 @littleblackcatinwonderland

Clementines.

581 words.

Billy dug through the pantry at two in the morning, sweats around his hips loosely, his hoodie smelling like your perfume. You always stole it, claiming it was just warm. He always got like this at night, always wanting to snack, especially on something sweet.

He opened the fridge to get the bowl of frosting you had made for cake, but you wouldn’t notice that he’d used some for his graham crackers he thought, like a child stealing sweets from a parent.

In this case his roommate.

He groaned as he stuck it in his mouth. In the marines he was never allowed this, all he had were shitty premade meals.

He dipped it again, relishing in your talent for making him grow fat with your cooking, and stopped halfway, swearing he heard something, his time in the marines made him hyper vigilant. And then he heard it again, you were crying, sounding like you couldn’t breathe. He set the bowl and crackers down and moved toward your bedroom.

He wasn’t good at comfort, he wasn’t emotional, and it made him uncomfortable. The boy in him wasn’t comforted, how could he extend it without having received it? But he understood nightmares, and sometimes he’d wished someone had comforted him.

He saw you lying on the bed as he opened the door, you were crying, the white lights of your skinny “Charlie Brown’ Dollar Store Christmas tree illuminating your tear stricken face.

Snow was picking up outside as he climbed in next to you as you heaved. “Can’t breathe.” Your body wracked with shivers.

“Don’t let him do that to you. Don’t let him win.” Billy said roughly, gripping your hip and pulling you closer. You smelled like clementines, like summer.

Your eyes fluttered, clutching Billy’s hoodie. “Can I come closer?” You asked, breathlessly.

Billy wiped your tears away tenderly, “Yeah, mouse.” He husked.

And so you did, pressing yourself into his side. “I dreamt of my uncle.”

Billy watched the snow fall, it seemed Jack Frost had visited early, “I know.”

You shivered, tangling your legs with his, pressing a kiss to his throat. “I thought I was gonna die. But then I heard your voice.”

“I gotta ka-bar with his name on it.” Billy said hotly into your hair.

“He’s a drunkard. He’s not worth it. He’s an old man who never dealt with his childhood. He’s hurting, too.” You said, quietly. He would never understand your compassion for those who’d hurt you.

“I don’t give a fuck, he hurt you so he’s on my shit list.” He shivered as your cold fingers slid up his hoodie, fingers playing with the hair there at his belly button.

“Oh, Billy. You’re trying.” You said, pressing your fingers harder into his skin.

He didn’t know what to say to comfort you. “I like your hair, it shines in your Christmas lights.” He mumbled, pressing his chin to your head.

You laughed understandingly, and said; “I like the frosting on your hoodie.

He huffed, heart skipping a beat. The wind beat against the window, and he took his finger and wiped the frosting off and pressed his finger to your lips.

Your mouth parting, tasting the sweetness of the sugar, and the bitterness of his finger. His eyes looked pitch black watching you, the way the curve of your breasts pressed against him.

“Good girl.” He husked, watching you.

And the feeling of warmth and safety soon replaced the fear of a monster.

[blorbobutworse]

Panic Attack- Logan's First Spar- FBLAU

GUESS WHAT GUYS!!!! IT'S FINALLY EDITED OH MY GOD THIS BEAST HAD TO BE CUT DOWN BECAUSE I KEPT GOING OFF TOPIC AND CHANGING IDEAS BUT IT IS DONE!!!

Wolverine manages to hound the Beast into (play) fighting with him. He’s been at the Institute for all of a week and already feels like he’s going to shake out of his skin from boredom.

Everyone's treating him like he’ll break if he does any fighting at all, which is boring, and he has to eat all of his meat medium or more because everyone keeps staring at him and watching what he eats, which is annoying, and there's no one else in the building that's his age or anything to do, which is infuriating. 

On top of all that, he’s been forced to meet with Jean Grey and Charlie every day for at least an hour. His head always hurts after, and the last few days have just been with Charles after Jean ran out to throw up in the hall bathroom. And that’s not mentioning the weird nightmares he’s been having these past few days, of people he doesn’t know holding him down, the loud cracking of the collar ringing in his ears even after he wakes.  

All to say, if he doesn’t get this tension out soon, he's going to explode. Beast must have seen some of his distress on his face, because he sighs, takes off his reading classes, and nods.

“Alright boy, but you must remember some rules. One,” he holds up a large blue finger.

“If I say stop, we stop. Secondly, you may not use your claws. I know you like using them, but this is a spar, not a fight, and I do not heal as quickly as you do.” He grins. “But biting and your normal claws is allowed.”

Logan doesn’t waste a minute. The moment Beast steps into the ring, Wolverine pounces, a Feral grin in place as he jumps to climb the much larger man. He’s surprised when his weight topples the man, both of them sprawling into the mat. Beast huffs out a laugh, and then grabs him by his shirt and -gently- throws him over his shoulder onto the mat. Logan wheezes, but scrambles up, a grin on his face. This is going to be fun

It’s on their fourth round that it happens: Beast surprises him. He does something to quiet his steps enough for Logan to lose him as he jumps away to get some distance. He’s trying to locate him before he closes his eyes, and realizes the man is somehow behind-

Before he even finishes his though, he sees something blue and lashes out, claws immediately extended, managing to scratch Beasts shirt before-

Beast grabs him by the front of his shirt, lifting him from the ground.  There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, a rage. It’s now that Logan remembers how much larger and stronger this man is. 

“Boy-”

A dozen voices overlap.

He’s not a boy, but everyone insists on calling him one. They love it in the lab, like he’s to stupid to understand what they're doing to him. Like he can’t understand when they rip his teeth out for attacking an essential catch, or fighting the doctors when they cut off his fingers and carve out his joints ‘for research’.

The man in front of him flicks through forms, brown hair then black then blond, hand growing larger and smaller, clawed-

And all Logan knows

Is a feeling of dread.

So he runs.

Claws retracted, he blindly swipes his arms, hearing a grunt of surprise as he's dropped like a sack of potatoes, and he's running off at a sprint before he can think.

He hears speech, more shouting, but it doesn’t matter. He has to get out.

His ears ring as he runs towards the only thing he can locate: his room.

He slams into door frames, shoves past a few taller kids, and launches himself into the most protected part of his room: the corner between his bed and his bedside table.

It's not until he's huddled in between them that he realizes he forgot to close the door

Fuck.

He’s dry heaving, trying to prevent himself from vomiting when he realizes it is his shirt that's choking him. He rips it off, the fabric feeling just like the collar-

no no he promised he could behave- they promised- please- he was sorry-

and gasps through flashes of pain, pressing his hands against his neck to prove it’s not there anymore, they didn't like to punish animals, weapons like that here. 

“Logan?” Beast is standing in his open door

He wants to scream at him to go away, to leave, to get out of his room; this is the only place he’s safe. But all that comes out is a crackling whimper.

Hank sighs, and walks in. 

Logan hisses, looking very frightening in the corner of his room. His hair is falling into his face, eyes flicking around the room, but only locking onto Hank as he crosses the threshold of the door. There’s dried blood on his neck, on his hands, on his chest. He hurt himself trying to get away.

Hank pauses, and then kneels. He crawls the rest of the room until he’s in front of Logan, who’s biting his lip so hard it keeps bleeding enough to drip down his chin.

Beast reaches a hand out  slowly but steadily. He smells bloody. And nervous. But he doesn't smell mad. It doesn’t make sense.

Logan whines, eyes slamming shut as he feels his claws slowly pop out, trying to defend him despite his knowledge it would be useless. They scrape his neck, but he keeps his hands close to his ears.

Beast grabs his wrists firmly, and his blinks as he just

“C'mon son, you have to stop scratching, you’re just scaring yourself more” He guides his hands down. Once there in his lap, Hank scruffs him gently, one firm hand on his neck as the other one remains in Logan’s, thumb rubbing the edge of his claws.

It’s familiar. 

Another memory, a breath whispered along the shell of his ear. A feeling of comfort

"C'mon runt, breathe.”

Hank echoes it, calling him son and counting out how long he's supposed to hold and then release.

He breathes

Hank's hand guides his face into the crook of his shoulder and something about the security, the safety of his room, the calm response of the doctor… the warmth of someone else cradling him.

Logan breaks.

His calmed breaths abruptly turn to sobs, and when Hank attempts to gently dislodge him (to see what he did wrong) he’s surprised by Logan clinging to him, hands shakily fisted in his shirt, face smooshed into his neck, hard enough that Hank can feel the tears on his neck.

Hank does what no one else has done for him in years…

He stays.

He tells comforting lies, tells Logan he won’t be punished for hurting him, says they're never gonna put the collar on him again, that he’s safe, not just in his room, but in the whole mansion.

Even as Logan shakes apart, Hank's hands and breath stay constant, a lighthouse to Logan's hurricane.

When he's done crying, he pulls away, staring at the ground. He pretends like his nose isn’t dripping, and sighs.

“…Sorry.”

“It's alright, child. You are new here, and I know it is difficult to believe, but you are welcome to lean on any of us if you require assistance and support.”

In some part of his brain, Logan is screaming at himself

Child is even more infantilizing than a boy…there's no way he's going to let him call that.

But…

He noticed. He’s the first person to have noticed. And He’s the only person who hasn’t been scared of Wolverine the entire time he’s been here. So.. Beast gets a pass.