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atrwriting · 5 months

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future problems (pt. 2) -- coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

me, after posting a one-shot: “ok i won't do a part two”

me, a few days later: *posts a part two*

howdy y'all ;) back with everyone's favorite toxic white man of the month

this part is based on this anonymous request -- love you anon :) xox

find part one here

summary: reader finds out she's pregnant and has to tell the scariest man in panem -- her husband, president snow

as always, warnings: smut!, pregnancy sex, coriolanus snow is a fucking warning in himself, he’s a dick here, fem!reader, p in v sex, mommy and daddy kink just trust me ok)

barely edited we die like men

anyways... here is future problems (pt. 2):

......

he was told by a servant a month before you told him.

he couldn't believe it.

you had not bled last month.

it's not that he was mad... but he wanted to be told by you. he wanted you to be the first one to tell him. it was important to him — trust and loyalty, especially from you. he had allowed you to get close to him, physically and emotionally, and he deserved that same respect.

he couldn't believe you had kept it from him.

you. of all people. you.

how fucking could you?

it had been a total of six weeks since he had been told by the servant.

it wracked his brain like it was the fever that debilitated him for weeks. it gnawed at him, it scratched at him, and it fucking demanded every ounce of energy from him that he possessed. that sort of pain, betrayal — it insisted on being felt and dealt with immediately, no matter what needed to be taken care of first. corio coriolanus couldn't believe he had honestly trusted you, or even thought you were worthy of some amount of trust... and he couldn't believe he, for even a second, allowed either of you to live in that facade.

never again, he reasoned. never again.

on the day after the six week marker, there was a knock on his office door.

his lips fell into a grimace before he forced it to remain even — calm. no emotion shown. not anymore.

“come in,” he spoke.

his eyes fell to the papers on his desk, where he continued to write and edit his memorandum. his eyes traced the words he wrote, but he was barely focused on what he was writing. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your footsteps entering his office.

“corio?” you asked quietly, smiling, as you stepped through his door.

inside, he flinched at his nickname. coriolanus, he wanted to correct.

he did not raise his head. “…yes?”

he could not see you — but he knew that you noticed his flat demeanor.

it affected your own.

he couldn’t see that — but he knew. he fucking knew.

it wasn’t the first time he had been cold to you, but enough time had past where he reasoned that this would be the solidifying moment of your opinion of him. he knew that you knew he was upset about something. what else could have changed his demeanor?

“i-i wanted to… tell you something,” you replied, voice wavering.

he could tell you were working hard to ignore the obvious signs that something had shifted between the two of you. he knew, he knew, and he knew — but he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. why should he, when you didn’t?

“yes..?” he replied once more, this time sighing.

his eyes met yours.

your resolve immediately fell. though slight, he could see that whatever confidence you had possessed had faded from your face. it was gone… and coriolanus didn’t have the resolve to replenish it. neither did you have the strength to fake it.

he saw you begin to pick at your fingernails — another nervous habit of yours he had noticed.

however, this was a new one. once the pair of you shared a kiss — you were rarely seen pulling at the skin of your lips and your usage of lip moisturizer had increased. he appreciated it, at the time — but now? now it was a reminder of what once was. with new bad habits came the alert of the passage of time — and the alert of bonds breaking.

he couldn’t deal. he just couldn’t.

“what is it?” coriolanus demanded, eyes blinking.

your lips parted in confusion, and your brows scrunched right with them. there was hurt in your eyes, and splattered across your cheeks in a pink hue. your cheeks were usually flushed with graciousness or from alcohol — but this was embarrassment. hurt. rejection.

he didn’t care anymore, especially not when he admitted to himself that a part of him loved seeing your face and confidence fall. if he was going to fall, you were going straight down with him.

down, down, down.

“i’m with child,” you responded, appearing to struggle to catch your breath.

there it was. the admission.

he clenched his jaw. his eyes focused on your face — and how the tears began to collect in your eyes. the rejection he was sending towards you was even being felt by him — and he almost felt bad. to see a woman he so blindly trusted, who thought she could outsmart him — play the part of a hurt and broken hearted woman so well.

he did not smile. he did not laugh. he did not even get up. he simply stared at her — silently.

“i take it you are not happy at this announcement,” she responded, voice barely wavering. “i-i would’ve thought…”

coriolanus watched as you placed a gentle hand over your stomach — almost in a protective manner.

“how long have you known?” he asked.

“i took the pregnancy test today,” you responded.

coriolanus’ jaw tightened. he was not expecting that, especially not after the news he was given. “…but you’ve known for some time. you must have — given how you chose today to take the test, and don’t seem as surprised as you thought i would be.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “…no, coriolanus. i didn’t. i had hopes, yes, but… i took the test as soon as i thought reasonable. you’re the first person i’ve told.”

confusion and hurt. that was all you felt. it encased your body like it was trying its best to cast you from the room — placing a heavy boundary between you and your husband. husband… if you could even call him that. your lips began to twist in a grimace as emotions began to well up inside you.

“tell me why i have displeased you,” you spoke, voice threatening to break. you took a step towards his desk and kept one hand firmly on your belly. your eyes, red and wet, bore into his and refused to leave him. “i thought you would be overjoyed. i-i thought…”

“you claim i was the first person you told,” he spat, holding your glare. “but i was not the first person to assume.”

you scrunched your eyebrows at him… but then you realized. it hit you like a ton of bricks. you bit the inside of your cheek, drawing blood, before stating, “your spies.”

coriolanus narrowed his eyes. it was not an issue that she knew… but he didn’t understand how she could know, nor for how long. spies were useful when their identity and presence was not apparent, and therefore he considered his current spies failures — to be dealt with later. at the moment… he had other matters.

“you might want to elaborate on that statement if you’re going to act like it’s something profound,” he spat, standing and snapping his journal closed.

coriolanus stood behind his desk and pushed in his chair. you watched him as he struggled to keep everything together, neat and tidy.

your face was red and hot, and you weren’t sure if it was due to the pregnancy or the betrayal. how could he? how could he?! there you stood, trying to remain collected — but it proved useless. through your tears, you spat, “a woman is supposed to wait before telling everyone she’s pregnant — god forbid she loses the baby before it’s viable. i waited the standard amount of time most women are practically born knowing to wait. if your spy is going to make my cycle their business, they should at least understand basic fucking female biology, coriolanus, or your spies and their intel are fucking useless!”

you didn’t wait to hear his response. you left the room.

he stared at the oak door out of entitlement — it should open once more, and reveal his wife.

the mother of his child…

he had never considered… things of that nature. tests. waiting periods. hormones.

incompetence. that of his spies — nor his own.

he didn’t understand any of it.

however, he did understand one thing…

he had to deal with the useless spy.

…and that would happen before he approached you.

that approach occurred approximately an hour and a half later. he would have found you sooner, but the spy had… taken more time than anticipated. afterwards — there he stood, at your door, with a tray of food in his hands for the both of you.

his knuckles wrapped on the door.

there were no footsteps.

they wrapped again.

still, no footsteps.

once more.

…and, still, nothing.

he couldn’t believe this.

he went to knock a fourth time, but before he could — the door swung open.

to reveal you in the doorway.

your eyes were blown wide with anger, but the rest of your face did not show emotion. you glared at the man before you, which unsettled your husband,

he picked you because you were unproblematic — but had gotten lucky with the fact that your company was so pleasant. you were not loud, annoying, mean, bold, disrespectful, disobedient, or anything of the sort — but he did not expect this.

he did not expect you… to hold a grudge against him, much less stand up for yourself.

he stood there silently — dumbstruck.

“i would slam this door in your face if you weren’t the president,” you spat lowly. “please do not make me forget formalities.”

“i brought you dinner,” he spoke, ignoring you. “please… join me.”

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “you’ve been ignoring me for weeks, when i tried to convince myself you were just busy. you can handle another night of dining alone.”

you went to shut the door, but he stopped it with his foot. your eyes lowered to where his toe was in the doorway, and traveled up to where his eyes were. as per usual, his facial expressions were flat, save for determined. he always had a goal in mind… and refused to change it until he succeeded.

you sighed. you had had enough.

“i’m not doing this tonight,” you bit. “i show you every ounce of respect that i know you expect of me. i have been patient, kind, gentle — but i can’t meet you halfway right now. not after that. leave. please.”

there coriolanus went. searching your eyes once more, like he had done long ago. his jaw clenched once, twice, three times before it finally settled. he did not remove his foot before he spoke once more.

“why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he imposed.

there was a hint of pleading in his voice. your breath began to quicken with anxiety. out of exhaustion and frustration, completely forgetting your station, you rolled your eyes at your husband before responding.

“what if i was wrong, coriolanus?” you spat, your eyes were narrowed. “why would i tell the most powerful and scary man that runs panem — that i am pregnant with his child, if i am not one hundred percent sure? to get your hopes up for nothing, if, god forbid, i lose it?”

he didn’t respond.

you threw your hands up in exasperation. a silent cry left your lips in the form of a broken inhale. your hormones were running rabid — coursing through your veins and filling you with frustration.

you locked your teary eyes with him once more. trying to keep your voice quiet, you hissed, “your spies aren’t exactly discreet. i’ve known about them since my first day here. your spies — they’ve never reported i’ve done anything wrong because i have never done anything wrong. it’s not like i can hide anything here, either — they’re everywhere. nothing is a secret — even a private moment between husband and wife, like a wife finally being able to tell her husband that she’s sure she’s pregnant with his child. i have given you everything you’ve ever requested of a wife, yet there you sat — throwing silent insults in my face.”

there went the boundary.

up and sturdy.

layer after layer of brick and cement. your trust and love for him crumbled with each new layer, until you couldn’t see the man you once adore beyond the wall. the man before you frustrated you so much that you forgot what it was like to look upon his face and feel nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing him smile. you wanted to slam the door in his face, placing two boundaries up — a real one, and an emotional one.

one that would prevent you from ever being so stupid again — from ever letting him close to you, for ever thinking this could work.

stupid, you thought. stupid, stupid, stupid.

but coriolanus corio would have none of that.

he was a man of formalities and manners, but your husband actually pushed his way through.

you stumbled backwards in surprise. your husband had guards for doing his dirty work — not the shoulder of his new and crisp suit.

he shoved the tray of food on a nearby table, ratting the walls and the contents on each surface. you placed a protective hand over your stomach and watched him — waiting for his next move.

“i said get out, coriolanus!” you spat. your gaze was fiery red, and now there were angry tears in your eyes. corio could see the hormones flowing from every opening in your skin they could find — even smell them. “i refuse to speak to you!”

“the father of your child?” he spoke evenly, walking towards you. “your husband?”

you took a step back for every step he took forward. “you were more concerned with the secret kept than the actual chance of life!”

“i thought you were keeping the chance of being happy about a child from me,” he spoke, bitterness instinctually falling from his perfect lips. “you can’t forget — we barely know each other —“

“and who’s fault is that?!”

he stopped. his jaw tightened. he stared down at you and wondered where all of this fury had come from.

him. it came from him. the realization struck him similar to how other pieces of information had been striking him later. in the chest or face, whichever hurt more — and forcing his breath to catch in his lungs. never to reach his throat, let alone his lips.

he couldn’t keep going on like this — watching and waiting. watching others for their mistakes, and waiting for the correct moment to… correct them. at the very least… he couldn’t with you — not with you.

“i committed a wrong against you,” he spat before he could think about it.

you scrunched your eyebrows in disbelief. apologies were rare in the capital, and admissions of guilt were almost as scarce. you stared at him, still consumed with rage — but now confusion began to creep upon you. and where there is confusion… there is always curiosity.

you didn’t respond. you clenched your jaw at his words, but that was the only response he received.

“i did,” he reaffirmed, stepping closer to you. you drew back a step — not far, but still a step. he continued, “when i had heard what my spy had relayed to me — i should have asked you.”

you had three options. ignore him, yell at him, or hear him out. did he deserve the first two? yes. did you have every right to do either of the two, or both? yes, of course. however… were they worth it in the long run?

that was the question that now ate at you.

you had every right to put up the same emotional barrier you had worked so hard to tear down with coriolanus. his? who knows why he insisted on making his hurt everyone else’s problem. yours? he was an elite asshole, but… you were married to him. he was the president of panem. he was the most ruthless man in all of panem.

and you loved him.

you really, really did.

that was why his distrust for you hurt so bad.

it wasn’t about seeking approval anymore — because you thought you had it, or at least had come to close to it. once given that, you felt safe enough, well… to feel safe. to feel safety, trust, respect, reliability… and love. love.

the fucking bastard made you love him.

with reluctance, you took a step forward. “you should have, coriolanus.”

his jaw tightened as he also took a step forward. “corio — please, my love.”

you scoffed out of reflex and threw your stare to the side. you began to rub at your stomach, hoping to quell your own anxiety. there were a million insults waiting to leap from your tongue and latch onto his face, chest, throat — anything to hurt him or get him to fuck off. however, you swallowed them.

“i would do anything for you,” you stammered, trying to keep emotion out of your voice. “i have proved that time and time again.”

he took a step closer. “i know.”

“i know better than to keep something substantial from you,” you replied. “god forbid it was a fluke…”

another step closer. “i know.”

“i have done everything i can to prove that i am loyal to you, and only you,” you spoke, your voice wavering. “in the future, i ask that you approach me first — yell at me, fuck, i couldn’t care less — just as long as you don’t ignore me. anything, corio — just don’t push me away.

he laughed then, only a foot away from you now. the tears in your eyelids hadn’t hit your cheeks yet, but they threatened to. he reached forward and cupped your face in both of his hands. he leaned down due to your height difference and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“i know,” he repeated. “and i promise — i will try my best to not push you away.”

“okay,” you nodded, sniffling.

“never heard such coarse words from my perfect wife,” corio attempted to break the tension.

you chuckled then, wiping away any moisture from your eyes. “there were more — trust me.”

“i would have deserved them.”

your eyes flickered up to his them, searching his irises for answers like he did to you. you weren’t sure how he did it — but he could find every lie or fact inside someone’s eyes. that trait had not found its way to you.

but maybe it would to your child.

“i want to hear you say it again,” you whispered, now meeting his eyes. “i want to hear you say that you promise you will try your best to never push me away again.”

“i promise,” he spoke, nodding.

you refused to stare into his eyes at his admission. if he wasn’t a good liar, you didn’t want to know — not in that moment.

"am i allowed to kiss the mother of my child now?" he asked with a smirk.

you glared at him. "you would've —"

"shhh," he cooed, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

one of his hands slid to the back of your head and cradled the bottom of your skull. he wrapped his free arm around your back, pulling you into him. the kiss, you couldn't explain it — it — it...

it was like he swallowed you.

there was no place for you to move, but then again — why would you want to? you body was perfectly molded to fit his, in every way he wanted you to bend to him. his warmth, his scent, his taste — it all coaxed your senses into such a feeling of satisfaction that you weren't sure where it started or ended. it held your consciousness in warmth and safety — something rare in the capital. the only thing that mattered to you was that you were in your husband's arms and the kiss did not stop.

"so pleased with you," he mumbled against your mouth. "a child..."

warmth bubbled within the lower half of your body. praise, from a man like corio... any woman's weakness.

you hummed into the kiss, rubbing your hands up and down his chest. "going to be so proud of their father, the president."

the groan that emitted from his chest was deep and guttural — so masculine. it made every hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, waiting for a direction from the man before you. you began to finger his top button, hoping... hinting...

"sweetheart," he spoke, pulling away. "as much as i want to, i am not sure whether —"

"i think i'm fine," you gushed, only realizing after how desperate you might have sounded. "we might as well — especially before i become too big to breathe."

he stiffened as he held you. you immediately grew worried.

"what's wrong?" you softly asked, rubbing his chest.

he shook his head. "nothing —" he stopped for a moment, appearing to contemplate something. "it's just — i was imagining —"

you looked up at him curiously, hoping he would elaborate. his eyes immediately flew to your lips — perfect and plump, a match for his. you smirked.

you had him. “what were you imagining, husband?”

his jaw clenched again as his eyes widened. “my pretty wife has become so much more bold since i met her.”

you smiled up at him, hoping that he found it amusing more than disreepctful. one of his hands found your cheek as his thumb caressed the skin. your eyes were big as they gazed up at your husband, keening into his silent praise.

“i disagree with you, wife,” he spoke. “too big to bed —“ he scoffed before leaning down to your ear, your words rolling with disgust off his tongue. his lips brushed against the skin of your lobe before he spoke, “i’ll have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when the mother of my children will swell with me inside of her.”

your eyes, still wide, were frozen on corio’s. mischief danced in his irises, like a snake coiling around its prey. air left his nostrils in a small, sudden gush — amusement. the look that played on his face depicted the power imbalance — but, then again, how stupid could you be to ever think you would have control over your husband for a substantial amount of time?

he grasped your chin in his fingers before your lips parted. you were at his mercy — to be bent to his will. his head bent towards you before he spoke.

“you think you’ll repulse me — when my seed takes inside you, and it shows?” he asked. his eyes searched yours — but what yours reveal that he didn’t already know? he had you. he had you, and there was nothing you could do about it. “my naive, little wife… i don’t expect i’ll allow you to leave the bedroom much when that time comes.”

christ, you thought. your breath began to quicken as his words settled upon you. in a soft voice, you replied, “you leave me speechless, husband.”

he wickedly smiled then. “get on the bed, sweetheart. making up for lost time is in order, wouldn’t you agree?”

you couldn’t help yourself. you should’ve listened to him — but how could you, when he smelled so good, spoke so nicely, and was so close? you rolled onto your toes just enough to be able to press a kiss to your husband’s lips, and wrap your arms around his neck.

the angle was annoying for corio, who thought pulling you into his arms would be better use of his strength — especially if you weren’t going to listen. his large hands held your ass, supporting your weight as you leaned into his touch. your breasts, arched into his chest, were the only barrier that kept you two apart. there was nothing like a kiss from corio — heat, lips, teeth, spit. all of it melted into one.

“you missed me… didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you spoke, breathlessly. “so much, corio.”

“i was so mean —“ he replied, in between kisses. “wasn’t i? neglecting my perfect wife. a good husband would have to make up for that.”

you hummed in agreement, almost breaking into a whine. “kiss me, corio. missed you so much…“

it was like he swallowed you. body, lips, breath, emotions — all of it. once yours, but now his. all his. your body temperature increased with every fold of his lips against yours. heat pricked at the tips of your cheeks, the back of your neck, and your lower back. your fingertips, tingling, made quick work of his buttons to strip him of his clothing.

he couldn’t deal with how slow and gentle your fingers were. he loved you and how gentle you were — but when his cock was straining against his pants? the head of his cock, so red it was almost purple, leaking at the sight of his redeemed, perfect, pregnant wife? begging for him?

you were fucked. so fucked.

he should've been disgusted at the thought of fucking his wife while the babe sat protected inside your womb. however, nothing could stop corio from rejoicing at the fact that you had never done him wrong when you had actually presented him with a gift, also showing the utmost protection for it.

you fell back against the bed, your back awkwardly landing on the edge. you couldn't stand or lay back perfectly balanced, therefore relying on your husband to hold you upright and your grip of his clothes.

"my perfect wife —" he moaned into your neck, mouthing at your clammy skin. he had shoved his hand into your panties, finding you already soaked. "glowing as a mother —"

it was like you were both succumbing to the heat and haze of all-consuming lust. your hot breaths added to the humidity in the air, making your embrace with corio feel like a sauna. he couldn't rip your lace stockings off fast enough as you struggled to hold your balance.

your husband loomed over you as one large hand cupped the back of your head. his long, talented fingers on his other hand drew rough circles on your sensitive bud and you couldn't contain your cries. it had been so long. so, so long. the feeling of loneliness and lust had dissipated and was replaced by satiation. you need corio's hot, and husky breath groaning against your ear and all of your muscles holding you up and in place, forced to take everything he could give you. tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought of not only having your corio back, but for the lonely need for intimacy to also leave you.

he laughed darkly. "you're so close already, aren't you?"

you whined, struggling to regain your composure as you fought through embarrassment. "it's just been — so long —"

"how would you feel if i took it away, little dove?" he asked, eyes taunting. "how helpless would you feel? — how much of a mess would you make?"

"don't take it away from me, corio, please —" frustration was eating at you as you held onto him. he was so far away, then so close, and he was threatening to pull away as if it was a game. your feelings, your safety, you — all a game to him.

the hand on the back of your head left you to grasp at your chin as tears rolled down your face. your teeth were firmly planted in your bottom lip as you struggled against his touch. the rope in your womb was being wrapped so tightly that you felt the strands would snap at any moment, but you knew he would pull away. his eyes, dark and boring into yours, spoke for him — you were right. it was a game, and he was loving it.

"tell me it was worth it — for this," he rasped, eyes still locked on you. "tell me all of the pain i caused you was worth it — for this."

you were writhing against his hold at this point, grinding your hips down onto his hand as you whined against his lips. you were pulling at the fabric adorning his shoulders, hoping to rip it from him — hoping to make him feel as strung out as you felt.

"it was all worth it," you croaked. "all worth it for how good this feels."

"i'll never leave you again," he promised, his movements now becoming more rough on your core. "tell me you love it. tell me you love me."

"i love you, corio — !" you cried, pressing the sides of your noses together so your lips were barely touching. "i love it so much — please, don't stop —"

"that's it, doll —" he groaned. "cry for me. do it — cry."

something snapped inside of you.

your eyes closed, and your vision went black.

your throat went hoarse from the sob that left your mouth.

your lips were ragged with how your teeth ripped into them.

but you? oh, god — you felt so full.

corio's palm rubbed against your clit as his fingers entered you, pressing into that deep spot only he could find. you rode his hand like satisfaction was the only thing that mattered to you. greed and gluttony — want and need. none of it mattered.

"mommy feels so good now, doesn't she?" corio whispered into your ear. "just needed what only daddy could give her. — s'all right — just keep cumming, darling."

"fuck, corio —" you whined, buzzing with overstimulation.

he clicked his tongue at you. "such a naughty mouth on you. i'll teach you."

and he meant it.

he immediately withdrew from you — letting you fall onto the floor with both hands on the sheets, facing the bed. you almost scrambled to get back up, until you heard corio's pants drop from behind you. he kicked open your knees, and found himself with your perfect round ass pressing into his cock. he pressed the front of you into the bed, and snaked a arm around your throat.

you felt the tip of his cock prod at your wet and swollen lips before he slipped his length inside of you. you tried to lean forward into his thrust, but corio didn't like that. with a hand wrapped around your throat, he pulled you backwards against him.

the angle made your shiver. the tip of his cock began to hit the wall right behind your clit, making your head go dizzy. his finger found the corner of your lips, dipping inside your mouth. he pulled at the corner, forcing you to look up at him.

"so helpless — so perfect —" he groaned, rutting into you. his head held you perfectly in place for his total control. "can't believe i let myself miss out on the chance to breed my perfect wife. so perfect, aren't you?"

you didn't know what to say. your head was swimming. you were barely down from your first orgasm and now corio was forcing another onn you. hormones, emotions, and sensations were running wild inside your body and you weren't sure how to make sense of the fever. coupled with his own frenzy, you were a mess. a rubber band, for him to snap and play with whenever he liked.

"i asked you a question," he snapped. "you're perfect, aren't you?"

you hesitated, working through insecurity as lust overtook your mind. mumbling, due to the finger in your mouth, you spoke, "perfect."

corio stared down at you in awe. your hair was a mess, as was the rest of you. your face was flushed, your lips were swollen, but your eyes... oh, your eyes... corio was a sick bastard. the look of any sight of wetness in your eyes during sex made his cock so hard he could explode. crying with need was a feeling corio would never let himself feel, no matter how much he wanted to let it overtake him. he wouldn't let himself feel it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he loved the vulnerability you showed when you wanted him. needed him. craved him. his thrusts weren't rough because he hated you, but because he knew that need all too well.

"keep crying for me," he rasped, letting his tongue fall past your ragged lips. "so pretty when you're a mess."

there was nothing like it — being held so tightly you couldn't move and being forced to accept the pleasure and satisfaction only corio could give you. draining you of every negative emotion you had ever felt to replace all of it with animalistic give and take. his own throaty groans were being swallowed by you, as his hips snapped relentlessly against yours.

"make me a mommy, corio," you whispered. "wan' it so badly."

his grip tightened around you as he shook with pleasure. with three thrusts and a heavy groan, he let all of his spend leak inside of you and paint your walls. you felt his rough voice against your ear, mouth obscenities as satisfaction overtook him. you hadn't came again, but you didn't care — not when the air still felt so warm and soft.

that was until you felt a hand find your clit with his softening cock still inside you.

you knew how sensitive he was, and you should've care — but you didn't. all you could think about was giving into how good his fingers felt against you, still feeling so full. the thought of him also being so sensitive while you rode his cock pricked at your senses, relishing in the fact that you were giving him a taste of his own medicine as you came around his cock.

"greedy fucking wife — !" he seethed, anger spewing from his lips as he struggled to fuck you back with his oversensitive cock. you knew it was so red that it was purple and swollen, hating you but loving every bit of you at the same time. you should've cared, but you didn't. not when you knew it felt so good for the both of you, his whines in your ear telling you everything. with one final groan against you, he spoke, "you're never leaving this fucking bedroom — i'll tie you to the bed if i have to, do you fucking understand?!"

all you could do was stare up at him with awe and tears in your eyes.

his mouth parted at the sight. with his cock still inside you, you still riding his softening cock as you rode out your orgasm, nothing was prettier. nothing fulfilled your corio more. with one last kiss, he spoke, "just as evil as me, aren't you?"

you giggled. "i love you, too."

---

if you're wondering if i went batshit insane i did HAHA hope you enjoyed

L xox

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senseichaos · 8 months

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Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

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That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #lovely anon #senseichaosanons #💙 anon #vox #yandere vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox x reader smut #vox x reader angst #angst

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justin-chapmanswers · 20 days

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Howdy! I wanted to start off by saying I'm a HUGE fan of the show - you guys have been a massive inspiration for me, and II as a whole has become one of my main comfort shows! (Paintbrush in particular is my favourite - never thought I could relate to a fictional paintbrush as much as I do, but they've honestly helped me realise things about myself, such as healthy ways to deal with anger, as well as a huge one - the fact that I'm nonbinary! 💙)

I was wondering - are there any plans for future BFDI/II meetup tours in other countries? I'd love to go to one, but I live in the UK and travel isn't the easiest unfortunately :( (one day though, I swear I'll be there!)

Also, are there any plans to release bloopers or more behind the scenes content, maybe after the season 2 finale? I know some cast members like Jazzy do, and it's super fun to watch the VAs goofing around and having fun!

Thanks for all that you guys do - it's amazing to look at how far the show has come, and it's plain to see how much every member of the team loves what they do. From the phenominal storytelling, to the charming art style - every detail is made with the utmost care and attention, and that becomes apparent with each episode you guys release :)

I'll stop rambling now, but I'm super hyped for the finale! Here's to our two finalists, and the much-deserved conclusion of season 2! 💙

(P.S. please tell Silver and MePad I think they're awesome!)

- Rei :3

Hihi Rei!

So glad the show could be of comfort and inspiration yay yay! If we continue to do the tours I'm not sure if we'll be expanding outside of the US just yet- but we'd definitely love to! Just wanna make sure we really get a firm grip on the multi-city trip here before complicating it. But whether it'd be this upcoming year or the next or whenever, I do think it has a decent chance of happening at some point! I'd imagine England and Canada would be our next stops, but we'll see in the future!

As for behind-the-scenes content, right now we're very focused on moving through work on the finale, itself, but we definitely have some bts concepts in mind! I recorded a video for my final II2 voice session, for one. After I'm done with finale work I'll look back at the footage and see if it feels useable. There's a lot of content to work with, but I probably wasn't on my A-game in terms of providing goofs 'n such for the camera because I needed to be really reeeeeally in-the-zone emotionally. Fuuuuun times.

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batsvnte · 1 year

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How would it be if the Lovesick! Wally found out that the reader is immune to his disease? Bonus: what if the reader still spends more time with other friends of wally, like Howdy. Would that make Wally jealous? What would he do?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 • 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing(s): Wally Darling

Warning(s): obsessive behavior, Wally 0.01% from actively loosing it (?), ooc maybe, spelling mistakes, not proofread

Notes: black gender-neural reader (they/them pronouns). Honestly Lovesick Wally has been stuck in my brain for the longest time and he is not leaving anytime soon. Thank you for requesting this might be short

Lovesick!Wally wouldn’t mind that you are immune.. for the most part. It would make Home’s life possibly even easier since you’re one of the few who aren’t at risk of being infected by him. Even if the constant calls would remain constant through out the day and into the night.

Lovesick!Wally would try to coax you into coming over for a visit. Even if you were well aware of his disease, and not being one of risked. Even with those little debates in your head to go try to visit will always be shut down by another neighbor asking you to come hang out with them. Or on occasion, Home locking you out. For your own safety, of course.

Lovesick!Wally calls every single day of the hour once you were settled in your home. Asking about what you did, what time you did it, how you enjoyed you time either acting with Sally or playing a game with Julie. Always starts the convo and never the one to end it.

Lovesick!Wally somehow manages to keep an eye on you. His ‘loving’ gaze only fixated on you as you walk around the neighborhood with his friends. Accurately ‘guessing’ what hour of the morning you’ll be out of your house, and what time of the night you’ll be at home.

Lovesick!Wally would absolutely love to go out to spend time with you. Those calls that the two of you share (if you picked up the phone) would only feed into his love for you. The thought just to be with you, his dear neighbor!

Lovesick!Wally however would be livid if he were to see you with any other neighbor. No hate to Howdy, but Wally’s jealousy would honestly sky rocket. Why are you talking to Howdy instead of him? He deserved your attention, not him.

Lovesick!Wally’s patience only goes for so long. It would only grow if you end up spending more time with the others. He was almost desperate to hear you voice again, almost to where he nearly begged Home to let him out to go see you.

Even if you weren’t face to face with him, you could sense and practically imagine how infuriated Lovesick!Wally was when you picked up the phone. He tried his best not to show his jealousy, but there was little slip ups. Every now and then. Those calls going from the hour to hour would just be the entire day. Keeping you on the phone line so he can hear your voice for hours of the day and night.

#ghouul writings #anon page #wally darling x reader #welcome home #wally darling #lovesick wally darling #apple to my eye 🍎#welcome home arg #wally darling x y/n #welcome home headcannons #wally x you #yandere wally darling

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djljpanda · 1 year

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(Ok! Wanna have something wholesome to write?!?)

Wally x gentle giant non binary reader headcanons? Where the reader is basically: howdy/poppy sized, but is basically ‘soft babie who can’t be left alone or they’ll cry’ type of gentle? Like big teddy bear!

(Btw you don’t have to do this if ya don’t wanna do it! You do you! You deserve ALL the love in this world, and if you ever say “I’m not good” or “I’m ugly.” GIRLY YOU IS THE BEST THING ALL THE PEOPLE OF TUMBLER NEEDS YOU SLAY THE DAY AWAY!)

Thank you for your kind words. You really made me smile and felt loved, thank you a lot. So here is your order.

You are the sweetest thing in the whole neighborhood - Wally Darling

You love the fact that Wally keeps you company and Wally himself loves keeping you company

Wally always tells you that he will never judge you based on your height

You do love caring Wally around and man he loves it too

If you ever feel insecure Wally is there if you need to talk with and he is okay if you would want to talk with Poppy and Howdy if you have too

Wally hates when he hears you talk bad about yourself

You can to yourself that "I'm not good enough", Wally can be 100 miles away and he will still hear you

He may have small legs but he will be there already telling you how great you are

Even with both of your different heights Wally makes you feel the same height

You do like to see when Wally paints you, he just finds you eye catching as to him you are the most beautiful

One time Wally did leave without telling you he was leaving and you thought he ditched you as tears started to come from your eyes. Wally came back shocked to see you in such a state but you just rushed over to him and hugged him so tight afraid that if you let go he will be gone again. Wally comforted you by telling you he will never leave you and he loves you very much.

Honestly your guys cuddle time is the best

Wally calls you a big soft teddy bear while you both laid down in bed

Wally feels so lucky to have you and is always there when you need him

#wally darling x you #welcome home wally x reader #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally darling #non binary reader #wally darling x gn reader #gn reader #giant reader #soft reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home x gn reader #welcome home arg x reader #welcome home arg x gn reader

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decolonize-the-everything · 2 months

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Howdy! I see a lot of Jasmine Sherman content and I wanted to know if you knew about her tiktok? I see people saying she's been very rude to those asking questions and that she refuses to expand upon her policies, but I don't have a tiktok so I can't see it for myself.

You don't have to answer this but if you know anything more, I'd appreciate it ty ❤️❤️

They use they/them pronouns and yeah im familiar with it, been tuning into the last couple lives.

And I would say Sherman is as respectful to you as you are to them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Matter of fact, I thought this was funny so I took a screenshot. Here is them kinda laying it out themselves in the practice live they held earlier this week.

They were asking questions to something called Pi, which from context I gathered was some AI tool.

Jasmine Sherman explained to it that they're not particularly social and have a strong set of principles and boundaries. One of which is not believing in respectability politics. So they don't believe they should have to tone police themselves for them or their words to still hold value, especially when respect is not being reciprocated.

Sherman is rude when they're clocking people, yeah. Legitimately. They're outta pocket fr 💀💀 self-described as petty.

They don't hide this. This is a campaign image from the share & distribute section of their site lol

As for the people asking policy questions: the majority are, as they say above, coming and asking very disrespectfully. It's people who clearly don't know anything about their policy, haven't read it, & yet come to the live accusing Sherman of being a bot or psyop or just ignorant honestly that Sherman refuses to answer.

There was one person there who kept coming back to the live to harass Sherman about their death penalty policy. I mean returning after hours at a time, time they absolutely could've checked Sherman's site.

Sherman answered something like: i used to believe in it and switched after talking to professionals and experts in the field about it. It's still up on the site for accountability and transparency.

That person refused to go away and got nastier; continued treating Sherman like a liar or like their policies had holes for no reason. And they kept coming back to ask the same thing, just demanding energy and labor again and again and again.

At one point Sherman told people watching the live and doing the live with them to stop trying to educate that person. They're willfully and intentionally ignorant. To ignore them. So people did.

Also they DO expand on their policies which is why it's so frustrating when those people come in acting like Sherman doesnt or like they don't have a policy at all. It's also on their site if people really wanna know so it's also like?

........?

......do you just wanna see Black femme perform for you?

And besides that even while Sherman is roasting you they're assuring you that even if someone disagrees with them or doesn't understand them or even if Sherman themselves hates you, they'll still believe you still deserve basic human rights, housing, healthcare, and are gonna keep fighting for that anyway.

They said something like this a million times in the last hour so I'll paraphrase:

"why should I give a fuck about your opinion. Why should you care about mine? What does my opinion matter when I'm fighting for a better future for all of us. Hate me all you want. I don't care. I don't.

Your hate doesn't matter to me or change what I'm fighting for. You wanna see my policies or my experience? Go to my site or look me up, Google knows who I am. If you don't have anything to say about my policies then I don't care. I don't care that youre voting for Kamala. I don't care that you think my campaign is a waste of time. That changes nothing for me. Biden let's a genocide happen, Trump is Like That, but I can't be rude to people that are rude to me first? It's a double standard because I'm Black and fat. I don't care that people think I'm rude. They can think I'm rude all they want. They don't need to like me as a person to support my platform. Just like I don't need to like them as a person to keep fighting for my platform."

They were feeling deeply frustrated.

#asked #answered #Jasmine sherman #kamala Harris #donald trump #us politics #American politics

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pinejayy · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader Headcanons

@funnehsrobuxxx asked for Headcanons about Yandere Wally Darling reacting to his partner flirting with someone else and if they were to flirt back.

Wally Darling Masterlist

Wally couldn’t help but get jealous as he looked at you speaking to your friend Howdy. The way you giggled at his jokes, he just stared at Howdy and if looks could kill he would be dead.

But what really made Wally snap was when you told Howdy a flirty joke, he doesn’t care if you’re joking. “Oh Howdy, your eyes are the ocean. I could swim in them all day.” You would say jokingly. And Howdy would smile and tell you one as well. “You’re like a butterfly. So beautiful but hard to catch.” But he would actually mean it.

Wally always knew that Howdy had a crush on you, and he hated it. He wanted to make him go away but he couldn’t just make him disappear but he could lock you up.

As you and Howdy would be joking around he would stomp at your directions and give both of you a fake smile. And he would grab you by the arm and excuse you. And with that he would drag you away, and drag you into Home.

Once you were in Home, he would just throw you on the floor and he would blow up. Like how could you flirt with someone else! Especially if you’re taken, Wally doesn’t care if you were joking. Only he deserves that kind of attention from you.

Wally doesn’t care if you were crying. He was hurt...

And he would make sure to punish you. And no he isn’t going to get physical with you. But he would lock you up and prevent you from going outside. Hopefully you will learn your lesson.

Of course you would be upset with him. Like come on, you were just playing around with your friend. You honestly hated how he acted, he didn’t let you have freedom or talk to anyone because he’s the definition of Jealous.

But Wally would definitely always keep an eye on you, there’s no way out. And he’s always going to keep you company. He can talk to you for hours and if you ignore him he’ll get upset.

“Hey Y/N…I’m talking to you. Answer me!”

And if you still don’t answer him he’ll threaten to give Howdy a special visit. You would quickly answer and it still would make Wally upset. He hates the fact that you really care about Howdy.

Wally has thought about spraying Howdy with bug spray.

But after awhile, he would let you go outside. AND IF YOU DARE TELL HOWDY A OTHER PICK UP LINE HE WILL HURT HIM!

Wally is always going to be by your side now.

Like you guys could be walking around, holding hands and if Howdy were to walk past you guys or greet you. Wally would hug you tightly and hiss at Howdy.

*HISSES* BACK OFF THEY ARE MINE!”

Wally is a very jealous boy and if you dare flirt with someone else that’s not him, oh he’ll make you pay and the other person.

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #Wally darling headcanons #yandere wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #welcome home

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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Hello hello friendo! I was wondering if I could request a Wally x wolf puppet reader? the scenario being that the other neighbors are afraid of R (reader) no matter what due to them looking like a big 'bad' wolf, R's appearance is quite frightful; stitches in a few places along with big teeth and claws plus they are on the large size (roughly Barnaby's size, if not a bit shorter). While on the outside they look all mean they are actually really sweet and just want to make friends.

"Do you think I'm doing something wrong, Wally? 'cuz I feel...unwanted here."

"No, no. You've done nothing wrong, Neighbor! What made you think of such silly things?"

"...well everyone's still acting like I'm gonna eat them for breakfast."

"Breakfast?? Why, that's nonsense. Breakfast is composed of bacon, eggs, juice, and toast..not people!"

"Uh, that was just a....nevermind." Sighing, you shook your head as you gave up trying to explain the idiom to Wally. But having this conversation with him over the phone did manage to cheer you up a little.

How you wished it was this easy talking to the rest of the neighbors, though they were all absolutely terrified of you and would've hung up the second they heard your voice.

Fortunately, Wally had recently learned a valuable lesson from Barnaby, who told him that he should never "judge a book by its cover". And he lived by that philosophy every time a newcomer came to town, whether they stayed or left.

You were no exception despite being a rather frightening-looking wolf with large sharp teeth, untrimmed claws, and stitches all over your body that made you look like a zombie. Of course, your clothes covered most of them, yet they didn't fully hide all of the things your neighbors were afraid of.

Of course, it didn't help that you're the child of The Big Bad Wolf...but you're nothing like him! You're not deceptive or evil in any way; all you wanted to do was make new friends.

But that was tough to prove when someone screamed if you so much as smiled at them.

Poppy was understandable, given she was a bird who already had some anxiety issues to begin with. And Barnaby was alright since you're both tall canines (and even then, he was still the taller one). He tolerated your presence and can stand being in the same room as you.

As for Julie, Eddie, Frank, Sally, and Howdy....you unintentionally scared them out of their wits.

For instance, you visited Howdy's bugdega for the first time to get groceries, and he ducked behind the register as you approached. The poor guy sounded like he was in tears as he stuttered that everything was free of charge.

Back then you thought he was having a bad day..but even outside of work, he seldom talked to you out of fear.

How naïve were you..

At least you had Wally, though, considering he's able to have normal chats with you both on the phone and in person. He still kept his joyful tone when speaking to you, and when you left he'd turn around to scold the others for "overreacting".

Honestly, he was growing tired of them treating you this way and not taking his advice. No neighbor deserved to feel so unwelcomed.

You weren't scary at all! He'll prove it!

And now he finally got an idea that he believed would work.

"Say, [y/n]..whatdya think about coming with me to the park?" He suggested. "I'm organizing a little painting lesson, and at the end we're all gonna paint something we like! If everyone's there and sees us getting along, they'll finally see how nice you really are!"

"You think so?" Your ears perked up, a small smile forming on your face as your tail began lightly wagging, thumping against the furniture.

While you haven't done any art since settling into the community, this hangout seemed to be a good place to sharpen your skills and, hopefully, make some friends. If they saw you indulging in a passion, you'll be able to connect with them more.

"Yup! I think it'll work! So are you in or out?"

"I'm in."

"Great! See you in an hour!"

Your smile dropped. "Wait, it's toda-?"

However, you didn't get the chance to finish as you heard the 'click' on the other end, realizing he hung up. You sighed and hung up your phone, too.

The thought of seeing everybody at the park so soon had you feeling anxious all over again, but you tried shaking off your worries, not wanting them to deter you from going. You couldn't disappoint Wally after how hopeful he sounded.

So instead you focused on making lunch for yourself before packing some art supplies together, finding a canvas or sketchbook to bring with you.

And about an hour later, you were fully prepared.

'It'll be fine..Wally's gonna be there..' You told yourself, taking a few deeps breaths, heading out the door with your head held high.

Surely, the neighbors will finally change their mind about you once they see that you shared a similar hobby as them..

Right?

.......

It turns out you were wrong.

As Wally hosted his painting lesson in the park, going over how to paint different figures and scenes step-by-step...most of the gang could barely focus on what he was saying.

Instead, their eyes were anxiously fixated on you as you tried ignoring them and listened to his words. Whenever you made direct eye contact with any of them, they'd quickly look away and shudder, their hands shaking as they pretended to paint or draw.

They kept their canvases close to their chest, as though you were gonna pounce and tear it to shreds if they let their guard down.

Obviously, Wally took notice of this fast and would ask them questions about what he just said, his smile slowly turning into a frown as some stuttered out answers..while others just didn't catch it the first time around.

You only expected this, although you did manage to impress everybody with your scenery of a moonlit sky after accomplishing the final task of painting something you liked.

But it wasn't enough for Wally. They only complimented you because they were scared you'll get angry if they said the wrong thing...he could just tell by their shifty gazes.

They're just pretending.

After everybody eventually left for home, as the sun was going down, you stayed in the park with Wally. He was still sitting motionless on the same flat rock, having already put his supplies away.

You frowned as you approached him, not knowing what's gotten into him lately

Of course this hangout wasn't going to immediately make you everybody's best friend, but you didn't think he'd be this upset.

If anything it should have been you who was upset, though you believed things went quite well considering nobody ran away from you this time around.

Unfortunately, Wally begged to differ, given how he hasn't spoken a word to you since everyone else left.

"Wally?" Crouching down in front of him, you tilted your head. "What's wrong?"

"...I don't get it."

"..look, it's okay-" You went to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, only for him to suddenly look up at you with frustration in his wide eyes. Even his pupils seemed to tremble as he spoke.

"No, it's not okay. I-I..I know they can't help it but..I thought they trusted me, Neighbor. I planned all of this so they could stop being scared of you! And yet...they..." He trailed off, fingers trembling as they curled into his pants. "They're never gonna change...are they?"

"They can. They just need some more time." You tried to reason, yet he shook his head.

"But how much longer will it be until y--?" He started, but quickly stopped upon seeing the flashes of concern in your eyes, shrinking away.

"...until I what, Wally?"

"........"

"Are you...scared that I might leave one day?" You finally connected the dots. "Is that why you're so upset over all of this?"

Given his silence as he looked back down at the ground, that basically confirmed your answer.

Now it all made sense.

"Oh, buddy.." You hugged him close, feeling him flop against you as he rested his head on your fluffy chest. "You don't have to worry about that. It's gonna take a lot more than just a few skittish people to kick me out."

"But..you're so nice...and I don't know why they can't see that.." He mumbled, slowly hugging you back. "I swear I've tried everything-"

"You don't have to do anything more, Wally. I appreciate what you've done, but..you don't need to be stressed for my sake. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'll even pinky promise it for ya."

After a long silence you felt him nod, and you smiled, relieved that he trusted you.

Soon you let each other go and made that pinky promise, sealing the deal. You could see that lifted a huge burden off his shoulders--one you didn't even realize he was trying to carry this whole time--as his own smile returned.

"C'mon. It's getting late. I'll walk ya back home." You suggesting, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Haha..that's usually my job, Neighbor." The blue-haired puppet chuckled as he fixed up his messy pompadour. "But thank you. I'll take up your kind offer!"

#clanask #anonymous #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #wolf reader #puppet reader #monster reader #oop my WH interest was slipping but im back babey!!!!!!!!!#platonic

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pinkdreamcollectorsworld · 4 months

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Hello! I'm sorry for not getting to this post earlier, life's been crazy the last week hahaha (adulting, ya know?)

I watched the finale and boy howdy it had me in my feels 😅😅

If you haven't watched it yet, this is a post that definitely contains spoilers so read at your own risk!

Wanted to start off with some of the plots that stood out to me the most. these are just my thoughts and opinions/ feelings so please be nice in the comments. I kinda wanted this to be a discussion post for anyone interested.

Bobby- he lived! I'm so so so glad he was okay, i lowkey thought we were losing him. He's honestly one of my personal faves so idk how I would have felt if he didn't make it 😭😭 I also just wanted to point out, he literally quit, almost died, and then walked into the station like nothing happened. I cannot wait to see how the team is going to handle him quitting and literally not saying anything before everything went down. Like was he just planning on not telling them at all?? Also, in terms of what his plan was, honestly broke my heart. He DESERVES the life he built. He DESERVES the family he built. And the scene with him and Amir just.... ugh. Amir might not forgive him but I wasn't expecting him to tell Bobby he earned the right to a life and family despite what happened. His montage at the beginning of last episode BROKE ME.

Athena- Homegirl was out for BLOOD! Look, I love athena, but she literally misuses her job for personal gain and expects no consequences😭 both her and Bobby have been through SO MUCH these last few seasons. In terms of Amir, I think they just needa let the man live his life. Yes, her being there pretty much saved him from the cartel, but guys, she ate her words by pulling a gun on him. Im not sure what season she says it but she tells someone that it is in fact considered assault when you point a gun at someone. Angela Bassett performance this episode was 10/10, probably one of her best performances so far imo

Hen & Karen- omgggg these two I tell you. They can't catch a break😭😭 the way they lost Mara simply because a councilwoman was on a power trip just had me in TEARS. They deserve to have Mara in thier life, no matter what. I think they are good for her. She's good for them and Denny. I hope we get to see thier story progress more next season.

Maddie&Chim- THESE TWO! The fact that they were there when Hen got the call about Mara and were the ones who got her out of the group home just does something to my heart ngl. I literally love them both so much. They are so so kind and caring about the people in thier life.

Eddie& Chris- this is the one that truthfully really made me question some things. Eddie really, REALLY needs to talk to someone. The whole thing with Kim just, makes me feel icky. Did not like that little subplot one bit. I understand that Kim was simply trying to help, but I honestly think it made things so so much worse. Especially when Chris and Marisol walked in the door at the end of the moment. Chris literally stood there, and said "Mom?" He's traumatized for life. I honestly agree with his decision to call his grandparents. Little guy just needs a break. He needs space. His dad is going through something that he as a CHILD shouldn't have to endure as well. I know some people hate that Chris called the grandparents, and I know that Eddie really didn't want to let Christopher go but he needed to.. even if he didn't want to.. I think Eddie is going to be going through it next season and I can't wait to see what they do with him next season.

Buck- Buck, Buck, BUCK theres so much that I loved about him this episode. The fact that he showed up for Eddie and Chris and said "what can I do" I just... *chefs kiss* He showed up and said "I can't explain this to your kid but I will make damn sure he's okay" and DID. He made sure that Chris was okay, and on top of that made sure Eddie was also okay. And when the grandparents showed up, even though he couldn't convince Chris to stay, he didn't try to get any more involved than was necessary. You can see on his face that he's sad about Chris wanting to leave, but understands. He's sad for Eddie and put his hand on his shoulder to say, "I'm sorry, but im here for you". In my opinion, Buck has grown so so much since the first season and he's become another one of my favs.

Buck&Tommy- (I felt they needed thier own little section) I love what the actors, showrunners and writers are doing with this. Tommy and buck are in a HEALTHY, STABLE, relationship. It might have started out just a little rocky, but they've built on it and each other and im HERE FOR ITTTT! The vulnerability between the BOTH of them about thier own fathers/ father figures when Tommy asked buck if he was okay really proved that they are at the point in the relationship that they can open up to each other, and that Tommy cares. They know how to read each other. In terms of the daddy issues topic, im glad that queer, MASCULINE MEN are shown in a proper, HEALTHY, SHAMELESS sexual relationship. Buck opened the door by flirting and tommy picked it right up and im here for it. There wasn't anything "weird" or "out of left field"about it, Buck wanted to see if Tommy could match his freak and he DID! I genuinely hope they grow next season and give us more insight into thier relationship dynamic.

I also just wanted to point out, Cap literally told Buck "hes good for you, because we haven't had to talk about it" like what other proof do people need to see that they are a good match? Literally every other relationship buck has had, has ended in disaster. I don't think there was a partner he had that didn't warrant a discussion between him and Cap before Tommy came around.

The team all together- the fact that they all dropped everything to be there for Cap and athena really shows that they are a family.

Captain Gerrard- not much to say, not surprised that they brought him back, next seasons gonna interesting. Still a POS in my book no matter WHAT they do with his character.

All in all I loved the season finale. I loved that they wrapped up most of the major storylines to open the door for a new one (captain Gerrard return to the 118)

Thanks for reading if you stayed through this jumbled mess!

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greenscreen-dress · 1 year

Text

Artefactober Day 5: Shades of the Dog.

"Eye protection worthy of a king."

I wanted dark shades like the OG artefact art, Rentheking deserves some bling, and distinguishing the shapes of cat ears and pointy dog ears is an eternal challenge... and that's how we end up with these deluxe RGB gamer headset egirl cateye dogear glasses ^^;

Honestly if this is what the King forced his Knights of the Square Table to wear I can see why Joe's skin still features them to this day. Howdy n'yall :3

Prompt list: here

Bg-less version under the cut:

#do2_artefactober #hermitcraft #hermitblr #decked out 2 #rendog #renthedog #eMerartlapin #pixel art

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eldritch-nightmare · 1 year

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howdy!! hope you're having a lovely day! may i request ticci toby and any other creeps of your choosing reacting to someone harming their s/o? thank you in advance!

a/n: hi!! thanks for sending the request!! hope you enjoy <3

reacting to someone hurting their gn!s/o.

includes: toby, nurse ann, homicidal liu + sully [separate], the bloody painter, and laughing jill.

warnings: reader gets injured, murder, blood, the murder isn't detailed but some of them may be a little graphic maybe, near-death experiences, it's implied that the reader doesn't know helen kills people.

TICCI TOBY.

He would not be a happy camper, that's for sure.

Toby has already had so much taken away from him, so if someone were to try and take away the one person he allowed himself to love? Yeah, no, not happening.

Toby has taken so many lives he doesn't even know the exact number, and he doesn't normally draw out their death unless it's something Slender wants him to do.

But seeing you passed out on the ground because some sick fuck decided to take their anger out on you... it brought Toby back to darker days, and all he could think about was eliminating the danger to keep you safe.

And let me tell you, Toby draws out your attacker's death. They hurt you, so therefore they deserve every ounce of pain he gives them.

Honestly, if he could, he'd probably keep the person alive over the course of weeks just to get it through their head just how badly they fucked up deciding to hurt you, but he needed to get you help as soon as possible so he leaves your attacker to bleed out.

Once the anger he feels subsides, it'll be replaced by panic and guilt as he rushes you to the nearest place you can receive medical attention, be it the mansion or the hospital.

He won't feel better until you wake up, and even after, this situation will definitely cause him to become a bit paranoid over your safety. He really can't lose you. That's not a pain he can go through again.

It'll probably take you weeks, maybe even months, to reassure Toby that you were okay.

This situation will definitely make him more aware of your safety. If he's not off completing tasks for Slender, he's keeping an eye on you. He's not trying to be clingy or overbearing, he just doesn't want to see you covered in your own blood ever again.

NURSE ANN.

Ann can't remember anything that happened before her death and... proxification, but she does know that you've been by her side through the entire process. You're one of the very small handful of people she trusts and likes, so there was no way she'd let anyone take you away from her.

So when she sees you on the ground, bloodied and bruised because some dumb group of wanna-be urban explorers she was hunting down freaked out thinking you were her? Well, let's just say there's nothing that can calm Ann's burning rage at that moment.

Not only have these people trespassed into her hospital, but they also dare to hurt the love of her life as well? There's no fucking way she'll show them mercy now.

You're barely clinging onto consciousness as you watch your girlfriend mercilessly slaughter the people who dared to even put you in such a state. It's not because you wanted to watch, you were just too exhausted and in far too much pain to look away.

The amount of blood alone was nauseating, and at some point, you couldn't even tell what color the floor was anymore.

But once Ann has dealt with the intruders, she'll oh so gently pick you up from the ground and carry you to the nearest (and cleanest) hospital room so she can treat your wounds.

Ann doesn't speak much, but you can hear her softly apologizing to you as she takes care of you. She tries her best to be careful, not wanting to make the pain worse than it already is. She doesn't feel as if this is her fault, she knows it isn't, but she still can't help but feel bad.

This experience will definitely make her realize just how much she cares for you. It's a little scary, to be quite honest with you. It's weird being attached to someone.

She isn't going to become overbearing when it comes to your safety, but she'll definitely be more careful about hunting down trespassers if she knows you're in the area.

Don't worry, a situation like this will never happen again.

HOMICIDAL LIU.

Oh. Oh boy, what have you done?

Liu is, as we all know, not the type of person to take another's life in cold blood. He only hurts others when it is self-defense because he doesn't want to be anything like his brother.

But keep in mind that Liu is also very protective and he has a lot of pent-up anger (among a variety of other emotions) that he keeps under tight wraps. So, believe me when I tell you that you really do not want to be on the receiving end of that anger.

Unfortunately, some sad soul was completely unaware of this and decided to hurt you.

Now, for Liu, he honestly blacked out the moment he saw you bleeding out on the ground. You, however, witnessed the carnage that was about to take place. Honestly, for a moment, you thought that Sully had taken over because of how violent it got. But no, it was all Liu.

Liu doesn't make quick work of this. No, by the time he came out of whatever stupor of anger he got put in, he was drenched in blood, and the person he killed didn't even look like a person anymore.

He didn't use his gun. He used Sully's knife. You've never seen him use a knife before. He always avoided them, he only ever used guns. But he used a knife. He broke the fucking knife.

Right. Well. You'll just have to sit him down and discuss what transpired later. Preferably when you aren't bleeding out. Luckily for you, Liu has taught himself medical care. He's pretty damn good at treating wounds like this as well, so you're in really good hands.

Just... keep pressure on the wound for a moment while he quickly washes off all the blood on his hands.

You'll be okay. He'll make sure of it. He won't lose you.

SULLY.

Now, I bet you're expecting me to tell you that Sully would also go absolutely ham on the person who hurts you. No. He doesn't. Unlike Liu, he doesn't become overcome with pent-up rage.

He does get angry, don't get me wrong, but that anger isn't important. You're hurt, and you need immediate assistance, so Sully doesn't even spare the person a glance as he pulls out Liu's gun and shoots them in the head.

Sully is... less good at treating wounds. He tries his best whenever he sustains an injury, but Liu is always the one who has to take care of it.

But he does know where a certain eyeless man tends to lurk around, so he won't waste any time taking you to get treatment from him.

He'll keep the conversation topic light as you get treated, joking around with you and talking about anything and nothing at the same time. It keeps a smile on your face, and it keeps you distracted from the pain you're in.

It also keeps Sully distracted from the fact that his hands are shaking.

For a moment, he's not really sure why he's shaking so much. You're safe, and you're getting treated. It's only when you knock out after taking some pain meds that Sully finally realizes that he was scared.

You could've died, realistically. You probably would've if he hadn't been there.

He's never been so close to losing someone before. The thought alone was making his stomach churn. He's... he's never felt scared like this before.

This is probably when he realizes that he loves you.

THE BLOODY PAINTER.

Now, Helen isn't the most emotionally expressive person out there. Just one quick glance at his default expression and you'll come to the conclusion that he's a pretty apathetic person.

But you know him. You've learned how to identify his microexpressions. He had dropped by your place and walked in to see you treating a pretty bad cut on your arm. It was just a very slight shift in his expression, one that only lasted for a fraction of a second, but you could see the worry and the underlying anger.

It's actually pretty awkward as you explain to him what happened, going into detail about how some guy had just randomly decided to attack you when you were in town today.

Helen seemed to be taking in every detail you provided, and when he finally spoke up, it was to ask if you could describe the guy for him.

You had just assumed he was going to sketch the guy's face to give it to the police or something, so you didn't see any real issue with telling Helen, doing your best to describe what the guy looked like. You were honestly over the entire situation. The cut on your arm was bandaged and it didn't hurt much anymore.

The situation ended there for you. It was never brought up again, and Helen stayed the night to help you with anything that may be an inconvenience to do with an injured arm. It was sweet seeing him worried for you, if you're being honest.

It may take a few days, but Helen eventually did track down the person who had hurt you.

He treats them like any other victim, though it's obvious to authorities that this person had a particularly cruel death.

There is nothing tragically beautiful about this person's death. It is not a piece of art like all the other deaths were made out to be. This one still had their blood.

Honestly, their death feels so out of place for the case of the Bloody Painter that authorities are hesitant to consider this another one of his victims. It could be a dispute that led to murder, and in a panic was staged to make it look like a serial killer did it.

And you stay oblivious to this, none the wiser.

LAUGHING JILL.

Look, Jill truly felt as if she would never experience happiness ever again until you came into her life and made her realize that she can still feel such a thing.

You've basically become a source of joy for her, so there was no way in hell she'd ever let that go.

And when someone hurts you? When someone makes your face screw up in pain? It's an image that Jill never wanted to see. She's already lost someone close to her, stolen away from her by a monster. She can't lose you too. She just can't.

She also makes quick work of whoever hurt you, slicing them with her chainsaw once or twice before tossing it to the side and hurrying over to you.

You'll have to reassure her that you're okay as she lets you use her as a pillar of support. Even if you aren't okay, you need to reassure her that you are.

Jill doesn't know how to treat your wounds, something that will definitely change in the future once you're able to get actual treatment.

Honestly, she'll probably burst into tears and apologize profusely even though you getting hurt wasn't her fault. She still should've been there by your side. If she had been, you wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place.

She'll definitely be hyperaware of anyone who comes near you now. It doesn't matter if it's someone you're close to or if it's a complete and total stranger.

She'll immediately tense up and view them as a threat, sticking close to you just in case something happens.

It'll take months, maybe even years for her to move past this.

#anon #ticci toby x reader #nurse ann x reader #homicidal liu x reader #sully x reader #the bloody painter x reader #laughing jill x reader #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x you #nurse ann x you #homicidal liu x you #sully x you #laughing jill x you #creepypasta x you #scheduled.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 10 months

Text

hi. here's a little over 5k words for the modern human au! entirely unedited, as usual! you'd think this is a full oneshot... ha... no... i actually have some warnings for this one - hospitals, panic attacks, major character injury / discussion of death / clinical description of injury.

in short, my writing comfort zone <3

The dial tone plays, and Barnaby looks down at his phone. Call ended stares back at him under Wally’s cheerful profile picture.

“He hung up on me,” Barnaby states. His lips twist and he tosses the phone onto the couch with a snarl of, “That little bastard.”

“Hey now,” Howdy says sharply, frowning at him. “That’s our friend you’re talking about.”

“Like he doesn’t deserve it! All I do is be supportive, understanding, and worry about his damn well being. And then he goes and acts like my very much well-founded concern is an attack!”

Howdy’s frown softens as he watches Barnaby pace, gesturing wildly.

“I love that RV. Maybe not as much as Wally, obviously, but it pains me that it needs to go. And it does need to go! Thing’s becoming a damn deathtrap.” Barnaby pushes his hair back and huffs. He glances at Howdy. “Right? I’m making the right call, here?”

“Of course you are,” Howdy says. “But-”

Barnaby cuts him off. “I tried to be nice about it. I tried to warm him up to the idea of retiring Home, yaknow? And what does he do instead of handling it - he revs up the tin can and runs. Home shouldn’t be started, let alone driven. It’s dangerous.”

It’s extremely dangerous. Wally is skilled at driving it, but no amount of skill will save him if it breaks in the middle of the freeway. What if the engine catches fire? What if a tire pops, or comes loose? Home is old, and wasn’t made to crumple in a crash. Barnaby doesn’t even know if the airbag still works. It’s not safe.

The thought of Wally bringing Home hurtling down the freeway at ten at night in a - quite honestly - not great mental state turns Barnaby’s stomach.

“I just wanted him to come back so we could talk about it,” Barnaby says. “I let him keep worming his way out of a serious conversation and now - now he’s -”

“Running away,” Howdy finishes. The point of his pen taps a rhythm against his notepad.

Barnaby jabs a finger at him. “Exactly. One tough, necessary decision and he turns tail. This isn’t gonna go away if he skips town! Not to mention how he isn’t giving a thought to how this might affect the rest of us.”

“Especially you.”

Barnaby throws his hands up with an indignant look. “Now not only do I have to hunt him down-”

“That would be a we scenario, Barn.”

“But we,” Barnaby concedes, “gotta try to knock some sense into that thick skull ‘a his, and drag him back home - kicking and screaming if we hafta.”

Howdy’s pen taps faster. “What if he doesn’t want to come back?”

“What if he-” Barnaby stops short and stares at him, wide eyed.

That’s not.

That wouldn’t happen, right? Wally would come back in the end. He wouldn’t decide to up and leave entirely, would he? He is in Home… all the essentials he needs are in that RV. Barnaby sits down heavily on Howdy’s threadbare couch. “What if he doesn’t want to come back.”

Wally would have to come back to clear out his studio - he’d never abandon his art. Then they’d have to go through everything inside the house and see what he wants to take, since not all of it is Barnaby’s. A lot of it is shared, so they might have to bargain on who gets what.

Then they’d all have to watch Wally get into his motorhome and drive away. Possibly for good.

Barnaby would be alone in that big house with Welcome, knowing that his closest companion is out of his life. Living somewhere else. It's sickening.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, Barn,” Howdy says, watching him with furrowed brows and a deep frown - if Barnaby were feeling like himself, he’d crack a joke about him emulating Frank. “I can confidently say that Wally loves you more than that old RV.”

Barnaby snorts. “You sure about that?”

“Unflinchingly. Believe you me, he’s going to wallow for a day or so, and then Home will come rumbling back down your driveway like it never left.”

“I wish I could have your faith,” Barnaby mumbles. He exhales and picks up his phone. No missed calls, no messages. “Maybe if I call him and ask him to just come back, no strings attached, he will.”

“That’s the spirit! Save the talk for another day - tell you what, I’ll help you corrall him so he can’t escape the conversation. I’ll tie him to a chair and bar the door if needed!”

“Good luck with that. Kid’s slippery.” Still, Barnaby hits call again. It rings only a couple of times before a robotic automated message states the caller as unavailable. Barnaby doesn’t enjoy being upset with Wally. However, it feels like his blood is simmering, and the wall is starting to look like great target practice for his phone. He grits his teeth. “He turned off his phone.”

From the corner of his eye he sees Howdy’s eyebrows shoot up as the man turns back to his paperwork. He exhales a controlled breath and writes something down. “I have to say, I’ve never known him to be such a-”

“Pain in the neck?” Barnaby offers.

Howdy clicks his tongue. “You said it, not me.”

“Yeah, well, he’s full of surprises.” Barnaby lets out a frustrated huff. He’s half tempted to run Wally down right now, but he wouldn’t even know where to start. There’s only one freeway out of town, but it goes both ways, and it branches. Wally would have hit one of those branches by now, and who knows which he took. North, south, east, west. Deeper into the woods, or towards the city? To the coast? Somewhere else entirely?

He has to face the facts - there’s nothing to do. He just has to wait until Wally pulls his head out of his ass and realizes how stupid and insensitive he’s being. Those are two words Barnaby would never normally use to describe Wally, but after tonight? They seem fitting.

Barnaby can’t even muster up guilt for thinking such harsh things. He tried to be nice. He was patient. He’s always kept a lid on it whenever Wally frustrated him, which doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. And what does he get for caring? For being tactful and careful about a shitty situation?

Avoidance, a shove, and a cut call. Wally left Barnaby’s been left to stew in his own anger and worry. Right now, he’s inclined to lock up that worry in a tiny box in the back of his mind.

Barnaby pushes himself up with a grumbled, “I’m makin’ some coffee, want some?”

“If you’re offering then I will not decline.”

Barnaby pretends not to feel Howdy’s eyes following him to the apartment’s tiny kitchen. It’s hell to maneuver around in, and the frustration of bumping into something every five seconds only makes Barnaby’s mood worse. By the time the coffee is brewing, he’s ready to punch the cabinets. He won’t, but he wants to. He’d regret it immediately, but he stares at the chipped paint and fantasizes.

The coffee machine breaks after brewing a whopping single mug. Barnaby stares at it for a long moment, and tallies up the consequences of taking a hammer to it. In the end, he just clenches his fists for a long moment and counts to ten. He takes the mug and sets it in front of Howdy, then goes to the window to brood. Thankfully Howdy is too reabsorbed in his work to notice beyond a mumbled thanks.

For the next hour, Barnaby’s thoughts are entirely composed of Wally. Different scenarios of what might happen next, how Barnaby might handle those situations without shaking Wally for doing something so needlessly reckless, and cruel daydreams of setting Home on fire. Barnaby wants to feel bad about that. He doesn’t. That damn RV has caused two different rifts between Barnaby and Wally - and Barnaby was the one to fix both of them, because both times Wally just left.

He gets it. He really does - for a time Home was all that Wally had. It’s been with him since Wally was thirteen, and if the thought of retiring it to a dump makes Barnaby sad, he can only imagine how much it distresses Wally. Well, he can do more than make an educated guess. Wally practically told him tonight, if not with words than with actions.

Still. They’re adults - Wally is older than him, if only by a handful of months. When does Barnaby ever ask something of him? When does Barnaby ever push? Why can’t Wally see that Home is becoming a liability, and why won’t he listen? Barnaby can’t make it make sense.

Wally has always been more inclined to avoid conflict, but this is too far. Barnaby swears, when he tracks Wally down he’s going wring that scrawny little-

His phone is ringing.

Barnaby lunges for it, relief dousing his anger. He picks it up, ready to give Wally a piece of his mind and then beg him to come back-

“It’s an unknown number,” he says, shoulders slumping. Of course it’s an unknown number. Wally wouldn’t change on a dime and decide to be considerate for once. He exchanges an exasperated look with Howdy and declines. He goes to set the phone down - the number calls back.

“That’s one determined scammer,” Howdy says. He leans back in his chair and holds out a hand. “I’ll deal with ‘em.”

Barnaby is all too happy to hand it over. Let the poor sap on the other end of the line deal with a master swindler.

“Howdy-hi, how can I help?” Howdy starts with a mischievous grin thrown Barnaby’s way? He leans back in the chair and hums. “Who, may I query, is asking?”

All at once, the ease drains out of Howdy and he stops fidgeting. He sits up, already looking at Barnaby with a paled expression that has something cold slithering down Barnaby’s spine. Something is wrong.

“He’s right here.” Howdy holds out the phone. His throat works uselessly for a moment before he plainly states the obvious, “It’s for you.”

Barnaby takes it, his mouth abruptly dry. Howdy is already up and moving - grabbing his coat, his keys. “Hello?”

“Is this Barnaby Beagle?” a professional feminine voice asks, tinny through the phone.

“B. Beagle, yeah.”

The woman introduces herself as the nearest city’s hospital, and Barnaby’s heart drops through the floor. She asks him to confirm that he’s Wally Darling’s emergency contact. He confirms, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. Howdy takes his arm and gestures to his shoes by the door, spurring Barnaby into motion.

“Is he okay?” Barnaby manages to say. He puts the wrong shoe on the wrong foot and almost curses aloud as he switches it.

“Mr. Darling was involved in an automobile accident,” is all the hospital employee says. “He was brought in a few minutes ago.”

Barnaby steadies himself against the doorjamb, choking on a whispered, “Oh, god.”

Keys jingle as Howdy opens the door and pulls Barnaby through, then locks the door behind them.

“But is he okay?” Barnaby asks again as they hurry down the short hallway to the stairs.

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information at present.”

It’s bad. It has to be bad if they won’t say anything over the phone. He must be silent for too long, because Howdy takes the phone, tells her they’ll be there soon, and hangs up. He tucks the phone into Barnaby’s pocket before opening the door to the store’s back lot.

The frigid air slaps the shock out of Barnaby, and sensation comes flooding back in. He grabs the keys out of Howdy’s hand and strides to the car with long, powerful strides that would leave anyone shorter than Howdy in the dust.

“Are you sure-”

“I’m driving,” Barnaby growls, cutting Howdy off.

Howdy makes a disapproving noise, but relents. They get in and Barnaby adjusts his seat with harsh movements, jabs the key into the ignition because Howdy’s car is a dated hunk of junk, and peels out of the parking space before Howdy even has his seatbelt all the way on.

Howdy clings to the ceiling handle as the car tears down the mostly empty street, going at least ten miles over the speed limit. Barnaby doesn’t know exactly where the hospital is, but he knows how to get to the city. They can figure it out from there. Several people honk as Barnaby brings them flying onto the freeway.

“Holy Marilyn marmalade!” Howdy screeches as they narrowly avoid side-swiping a minivan.

Barnaby ignores him and cuts off a pickup to get into the right lane for the interchange. Howdy whispers a string of something high pitched and strained and clings to the handle with both hands.

It takes him a moment to parse out the constant ramble as, “-pull over pull over pull over pull over-” Two honks and a squeal of tires as Barnaby almost causes an accident, and Howdy yells in a louder and deeper tone than Barnaby has ever heard from him, “PULL OVER!”

Barnaby clenches his jaw and cuts across the carpool lane’s double whites. It only takes a moment to reach the shoulder. Howdy leaps out of the passenger seat as soon as the car stops, marches to Barnaby’s side, and wrenches the door open.

“Out,” he snaps, breathing hard. “Barnaby, I swear to all things priceless, get out. “

Barnaby meets his steely gaze for all of a second before unbuckling and getting out. Cars whip by. Howdy huffs at him and slips into the driver’s seat, muttering about recklessness and disasters and if you would wait to try and kill us until we’re right outside the hospital, if only to save us the ambulance fee-

When Barnaby gets into the passenger seat, Howdy waits for him to buckle in with fingertips drumming on the steering wheel. He merges onto the freeway smoothly and carefully. They go slower than the speed Barnaby had them flying down the asphalt at, and it makes something deeply impatient itch in him, but it’s safer.

“I know you’re upset,” Howdy says, eyes still fixed on the road, “and I know that you’re scared. But what in hell’s bells was that, Barn?”

Barnaby side eyes him and grimaces, folding his arms. “I don’t know. I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that.”

“You put yourself in danger too, you know.” Howdy sighs and relaxes his grip on the steering wheel. “We’re of no use to Wally if we get ourselves in a crash. What would he say?”

“Whatever he’d say would be hypocritical,” Barnaby says before he can think better of it.

Howdy glances sharply at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He..” Barnaby’s voice fails on him, and he swallows hard. “He was in an accident.”

Howdy is silent for a full few seconds before he exhales a thin, pained sound. “Oh, Walls…”

He must not know what else to say, which is good and well, because Barnaby doesn’t either. A long few minutes pass of silence. Headlights of passing cars on the other side of the freeway flash over them before plunging back into darkness. The dials on the dash glow. The check engine light is on. They’ll need to get gas in order to make it home.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Howdy says. He’s tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s likely just a few scrapes and bruises, at worst a broken bone. Nothing Wally can’t handle, and certainly nothing to be concerned over.”

Barnaby can’t bring himself to agree. Maybe… maybe if Wally was driving slowly… but that wouldn’t matter if someone crashed into him with enough force. Home is a large, sturdy vehicle, but it isn’t invulnerable. Wally certainly isn’t.

Without the distraction of driving, all Barnaby can think about is the what ifs. Yeah, what if he’s only a little bit hurt, but what if it’s worse? All of the worst images Barnaby can think of roll through his mind like a messed up movie reel.

Wally dead on the scene, caught in a hunk of twisted metal.

Wally, choking on his own blood in an ambulance, dying en route to the hospital.

Wally flatlining on a metal table.

Wally’s small body covered with a sheet-

“Almost there,” Howdy says, slowing at a stoplight. It bathes them both in red. Barnaby didn’t notice when they got off the freeway.

Barnaby squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead to the cold window. After a moment, a slender hand rests on his thigh and squeezes. It’s such a small, stupid thing, but Barnaby breathes a little easier.

Despite the drive down the freeway feeling like it took hours, the drive through city streets to the hospital passes in a blink. Before Barnaby knows it the car is spiraling up to an upper floor of the parking garage. The floor is mostly empty - Howdy pulls into a spot right by glass double doors.

Barnaby gets out a split seconds before Howdy, staring at the pristine white walls just inside the doors. In a moment he’ll find out if it’s not that bad, or if he’s about to have the worst night of his life. He’s been to a hospital twice. The last time was for Howdy, but he went with the knowledge that it was only a precaution. The other time was for Mama’s health scare.

That had been terrifying. The waiting, the wondering, the too-bright hallways and the staff’s rigid smiles. It ended well, but it had still been horrible, and hospitals took center stage in some of his recurring nightmares. Barnaby never wanted to see another loved one in a hospital bed again.

Looks like he doesn’t have a choice.

Howdy comes around from the driver’s side and lays a hand on Barnaby’s shoulder. “If you need a moment to-”

“Nah,” Barnaby says, his voice rough. He nods and adjusts his sleeves. “Better rip the bandaid off.”

They go into the sterile maze. The bright overhead lights dazzle Barnaby’s eyes after being in the dim parking garage, and he grimaces at the strong odor of antiseptic and floor polish. Howdy makes a beeline for the nearest receptionist and talks to her in rushed, low tones.

Barnaby shuffles after him, rubbing his shaking hands together and eyeing every person in scrubs that walks past. Something beeps somewhere. He thinks he hears someone crying. This is a place without color, art, or happiness.

“This way,” Howdy says, walking past him and tilting his head at the elevator. Barnaby follows, feeling like a lost puppy dropped at the side of the road.

A nurse gets into the elevator with them and politely smiles before staring at the floor counter and pretending they don’t exist. It’s fine with Barnaby. If he has to make small talk right now, he might actually snap. The man’s pink scrubs are almost an eyesore in the harsh lighting.

The elevator dings, and they all get out on the same floor. Howdy reads door plaques and wall signs like a hawk, his head turning on a swivel as he reads everything at lightning speed. Barnaby nearly has to jog to keep up with his hurried pace.

Howdy changes direction without warning and heads straight for a door at the end of a short offshoot hallway. Barnaby reads the sign next to the door.

[can’t remember if it’s icu or the other thing, research later]

It’s bad.

The waiting room is small - longer than it is wide, and there’s a woman sleeping in a chair in the corner. It looks nicer than the emergency room, or where Barnaby waited to see his mama. The benches have colorful cushions, and the walls are a pastel green instead of white. There’s an abstract geometric painting on the wall next to the woman.

Barnaby slowly takes a seat on stiff cushions, watching Howdy talk to the receptionist from afar. He nods and pats the counter before joining Barnaby. He sits close enough that their legs press together.

“Someone will get us up to speed as soon as there’s news,” Howdy says. “I tried to pry some more out of him, but he wouldn’t give up another word.”

Barnaby nods, staring down at his hands. His nail polish is already chipping, despite Julie painting them only last weekend. Barnaby picks at the bright red on his pinkie until Howdy pulls his hand away and enfolds it in both of his own.

When Howdy takes a deep breath, Barnaby finds himself mimicking him. Their gazes meet - Howdy’s is unflinching, and steady. He smiles and runs his thumb over Barnaby’s knuckles, soothing the nervous trembling, and Barnaby is struck by how darn grateful he is to have Howdy with him.

If he had to do all of this alone… Barnaby doesn’t think he could. Either he’d have gotten himself into a crash to join Wally, or he would still be sitting in his car, staring at the hospital doors. He doesn’t have the courage. But Howdy does, and Barnaby loves him for it.

For once, Howdy lets the time pass in silence, though after a long stretch of indeterminable time he gets up to pace. The bench cushions are high quality, but they start to feel uncomfortable. Barnaby doesn’t dare go for a walk. At least they’re not the usual waiting room chairs - he’d rather stand than try to fit into those plastic, narrow things.

At some point the woman in the corner wakes up. She startles seeing two strangers in the room with her, but quickly ignores them. Barely a few minutes pass before she leaves, mumbling something about coffee. She doesn’t come back. Barnaby spends a while wondering why - did she go home, or wait somewhere else, or did she receive news in the halls?

Howdy sits down again and starts typing furiously on his phone. When Barnaby gives him a curious nudge, he quietly explains that he’s texting the group chat. Barnaby feels a twinge of guilt at that. He completely forgot to let everyone know that there’s a… situation. Who knows if any of them will see it until morning.

Message sent, Howdy gets up to pace some more. His rhythmic gait gives Barnaby something to focus on, seeing as the clock on the wall is silent, and the receptionist seems to be sleeping. Barnaby could probably pass time on his own phone, but every second spent distracted is a second he might miss someone coming to tell them…

What? Tell them what, exactly? That Wally is okay? That he can receive visitors?

That he didn’t make it?

The door opens, startling Barnaby to his feet. Howdy scurries over from the far side of the room and rests a steadying hand on Barnaby’s lower back. A woman clad in blue scrubs enters, reading something on a clipboard. There are shadows under her eyes, and she looks beyond exhausted. Barnaby can sympathize.

“Mr. Beagle?” the doctor asks, looking between them. When Barnaby nods, she smiles thinly, gaze flicking briefly to Howdy. “Hi. I’m Dr. Allen. Before I disclose any sensitive information, I’d like to confirm what your relation to the patient is.”

The question gives Barnaby pause. He’s always had a difficult time putting his and Wally’s relationship into simple terms, because it’s anything but. Wally is his best friend, his dearest companion, the man he lives with and can’t imagine being without.

“He’s my partner,” Barnaby settles on, because it’s a good umbrella term. Partner can mean a lot of things, and people don’t usually pry for specifics. “We’re as good as family.”

Dr. Allen writes something down on her clipboard. “No worries, I’m not going to kick you out if you’re not - you’re his emergency contact for a reason, after all. It’s just basic information that I’d like to have on hand.”

“Course - so how is he?” Barnaby cuts straight to the chase. He’s not in the mood for niceties.

“Well, Mr. Darling is certainly giving us a run for our money,” Allen sighs. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but I believe he’s gotten through the worst of it.”

“He’ll make it?”

Allen offers another tight lipped smile. “We’re doing our best.”

Barnaby has seen enough hospital dramas to know that we’re doing our best means no promises, prepare for the worst. Howdy must feel the tension gripping him like a vice, because his hand slips from Barnaby’s back to his hand.

“What are his injuries, if I may?” Howdy asks.

“I’m not sure-”

“Please. We’d rather know than wonder.”

Allen looks between them and sighs again. She flips a page on her clipboard. “Unfortunately, there was a bit of time between the crash and when emergency services were called. Between blood loss and the near-freezing temperatures, Mr. Darling developed mild hypothermia.”

Wally was dying, cold and alone in the wreckage of his home for who knows how long before anyone came to help. Barnaby sways in place, and Howdy helps him sit down on a bench instead of the floor. Allen looks apprehensive.

“Keep going,” Barnaby rasps. He needs to know.

Allen doesn’t look happy about it, but she continues. “Mr. Darling also suffered several low-grade lacerations from shrapnel, some fractured ribs, a compound fracture in his left tibia, and currently unidentified damage to his right hand and lower arm.”

Barnaby swallows a mournful sound. That’s fine, it’s fine. Broken bones heal - Wally will be painting again in no time.

“He also developed an intracranial hematoma. It’s been treated, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until Mr. Darling wakes up.”

“What is that?” Howdy asks before Barnaby can figure out how to speak again. “Intracranial hematoma - tell me if I’m wrong, but that sounds like a head injury.”

“It is - in layman’s terms, it’s a brain bleed. Head trauma can cause bleeding inside the skull, which puts pressure on the brain. We caught it as quickly as feasibly possible, which should raise his chance of a full recovery.” Allen flips the clipped page back into place. “There may still be lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet. I’ll be forward with you - this is one of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time. Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.”

Allen goes on to offer platitudes that Wally is a fighter, and easily answers the flood of questions Howdy has about the mentioned injuries. It all sounds distant. Underwater. The room is too small and the air is stale - are the vents working? Is there a window they can open?

In a blink - and yet the conversation lasts ages - Allen promises to come back with more information as soon as she has it. She smiles one last time and leaves.

“Barn?” Howdy sounds muffled. “Barn, are you alright?”

What kind of question is that? Of course Barnaby isn’t alright - his best friend is dying, likely on this very floor. There’s a chance he’s already dead. Barnaby might have already lost him, he just doesn’t know it yet.

Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.

One of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time.

Mild hypothermia - brain bleed - lacerations - fractures.

Lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet.

We’re doing our best.

“He hung up on me, the little bastard-”

Barnaby is up and out the door before he registers moving. He staggers down the hallways in a blur, everything swirling together into a mess of sight and sound as his lungs struggle to get a full breath. He bypasses the elevator and takes the stairs down to the level they parked on.

The cold air does nothing to help him breathe. Barnaby chokes on it as he leans against the rough wall grasping at his chest. Howdy is there immediately - he must have been on Barnaby’s heels the whole time.

“Talk to me, Barn,” Howdy pleads, a hand on the back of his neck and the other over the one Barnaby has on his chest. “What is it - you’re not having a heart attack, are you? Tell me you aren’t, I can’t handle that right now.”

Barnaby doesn’t know. Maybe? He feels like he is. He can’t breathe. He tries to say so, but the ragged gasps his breathing has devolved into doesn’t allow it. Howdy must know something he doesn’t, because he doesn’t run to get a doctor.

“How can I help?” he asks instead.

“Don’t - don’t - know,” Barnaby wheezes.

“Okay, alright, don’t worry, Barn, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s try, ah - what were the steps? I didn’t exactly write them down, though in hindsight I should’ve - that’s not the point! It was… what a time to take after Eddie’s memory-”

It shouldn’t be helping, but Howdy’s constant stream of words grabs Barnaby’s attention. He manages to inhale nearly a full breath before it stutters back out and he’s struggling again.

“Breathing!” Howdy says. “Yes, that was it - Barnaby, I need you to focus on me. Copy my breathing.”

He sucks in a slow, dramatic breath through his nose and exhales just as slowly through his mouth. Barnaby catches on and tries to mimic him, but-

“Can’t, I ca-an’t,” Barnaby says. His chest hurts.

Howdy presses their foreheads together. “Yes, you can. Come now, Barn, in… out. Simplest thing in the world.”

It doesn’t feel simple, but Barnaby tries. It feels like forever before he manages a full inhale. He butchers the exhale, but Howdy praises the minor win before launching right back into measured breathing.

Barnaby finally manages a slow inhale and exhale, and suddenly it feels like the pressure filling his chest has vanished. He slumps against the wall, worn out. He puts his hand over Howdy’s mouth in the middle of another dramatic demonstration.

“You’re alright now?” Howdy says, peeling his hand off. Barnaby nods, and Howdy leans next to him with a whoosh. “Thank the stock market - I was starting to get light headed.”

It takes another few minutes for them to catch their breath. Barnaby straightens enough to rest his head on Howdy’s shoulder, breathing in his cheap cologne and homemade laundry detergent. Howdy cups the back of his neck and massages the tense muscle there.

“This will all turn out okay,” Howdy promises. “Wally is stubborn - I think we both know that well enough. By this time tomorrow we’ll be moving forward.”

Barnaby wants to be that optimistic, but this is real life. For all they know, moving forward means making funeral arrangements. His breathing stutters and he forces it to even out before he can start hyperventilating again.

A car pulls into a parking space with a gravelly sound. Barnaby pays it no mind until Howdy makes a surprised noise - Barnaby looks up, and his stomach churns.

Frank, Eddie, and Julie are all getting out of Frank’s car. They’re all in various states of dishevelment. Frank’s hair is a mess, and he has what looks like Eddie’s company jacket thrown on over his pajamas. Eddie is in little more than a shirt that says male? lol, more like mail! and boxers - he’s even wearing slippers instead of shoes, and his hair flops over his forehead in soft tufts. Julie’s hair is still in curlers, and though she’s wearing shoes, she’s in a too-long shirt over sweats that don’t belong to her. They’re paint-stained.

They rush across the parking lot, all worried faces and tired eyes. They’re already asking what happened, is Wally okay, Sally is getting Poppy, they should be here soon, has there been any news-

Barnaby lunges at the nearest trash can and vomits.

#IM SORRY FOR ANY HOSPITAL/PROCEDURAL INACCURACIES IM NOT TRYING TO BE ACCURATE AT THE MOMENT #except for the injuries. those are realistic and i did my due diligence. read a lot of first hand accounts! medical pages!#ohhhh this was so cozy to write #i mean. not as familiar as actual on-screen injuries but yk #its been too fluffy in here.#this is a mild example of my usual tastes and habits when it comes to fic & fiction #WHUMP CENTRAL BABEYYYYYY #i like it messy and painful!!! Lets Fuckin Go!!!!#this is a prime example of me not being able to shut the fuck up when writing #my scenes & convos just go on and on and on and on....#but yes! enjoy! the Crash arc is very thoroughly planned out in my head and lately its one of my favorite things to imagine before bed <3 #bedtime stories can be fictional characters going through horrible injuries & emotionally hurting each other #snippets from the bog #i will repeat what i have said multiple times before #i take the comic relief character. i hurt the comic relief character #i could have posted the little carnival half-scene. i could have #but ive been feeling stressed and caged and i need to let out some steam #and this is how i do that. controlled fictional violence <3

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