"my child is fine"
dude, your child finds comfort in horror movie characters

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@bunnebee
"my child is fine"
dude, your child finds comfort in horror movie characters
FLY, FIREFLY
otis driftwood/plus-sized reader
—3—
The trip backstage was short. There was murmuring in the crowd, and Baby had a hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t be tense, don’t fall, and don’t make a peep!” She advised, moving her hands to emphasize the points. You only nodded, something hot and unnerving boiling in the pit of your stomach. You had never been good with crowds, and if this one was as big as Baby was making it out to be, it would be hard not to sweat off the makeup, possibly throw up.
“I’ll try.” You promised her, your throat dry. She nodded.
“You’re damn right you will.”
At that point, a woman who looked almost exactly like Baby walked backstage, rolling a big stage light along with her. When the blonde woman saw you, she gasped and dropped her hold on it.
“Why, if you ain’t the most gorgeous sight I ever seen!” She ran to you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, being mildly gentle as to not mess up the look. You froze. Were you meant to hug back? Say thank you?
“Thank you..” was what you decided on, a soft smile pulling at your lips. The situation was very uncomfortable, but it felt good to be praised and appreciated so much.
“Mama, get to your station! It’s about to start!” Baby scolded, and the woman, presumably named Mama, nodded and scuttled off to man the lights.
“Make me proud, Babycakes.” Baby gently smacked your butt and pointed at where you had to stand before running off, probably going to sit with the crowd. You took a deep breath, and the music began to play.
I’m not one of the greedy kind.
You stepped out onto the stairs, eyes finding the crowd immediately.
All of my wants are simple,
First you saw Josh. His eyes were popping out of his head slightly, his jaw unhinged. It almost seemed to represent how people would say, “My jaw is on the floor!” when they were amazed.
I know what’s on my mind!
Next, you saw Ally. Her hands were chopped off, and stapled to her chest. She had no top on, so she was fondling herself, her expression one of mortified pleasure.
I’m not resting until I find...
Finally, you saw Wes. His hands were in his pants, his neck half sliced through to give the appearance of his head falling back in pleasure.
what would make your eyes glisten..with joy!
Slowly, as to not fall, you slid your hand along the rail of the stairs, feeling sick. The smell of blood was in the air. Your head felt fuzzy again.
As you approached the bottom of the steps, you saw Baby in the crowd, smiling and whistling to cheer you on. She knew what had happened. Of course she knew.
Your eyes then landed on a tall man sitting in the front row, his hands gripping the arm of his chair, his posture relaxed and his legs spread.
Now listen, big boy!
You walked towards the crowd. The smell was repulsive.
I wanna be loved by you!
You reached out and touched Josh’s hair, feeling the sticky blood that was in it.
Just you!
You made your way down the row.
Nobody else but you!
You tried to avoid touching Ally’s breasts when you trailed your fingers along her naked shoulders. They felt too cold. You heard Baby giggling in the crowd.
I wanna be loved by you!
Your hands stopped momentarily when they went to touch Wes. It was difficult. You couldn’t stop- they’d kill you.
Alone!
You rubbed your thumb along his cheek and bit back bile.
Boop-Boop-a-Doop!
The man sitting by Wes had been eyeing you the entire time. His eyes were cold, hungry, so much more so than the fat clown back at Spaulding’s.
Gently you went to gently press your index finger to his nose to fit the music, which he grabbed and made you flinch. He brought your hand to his chest, pressing it harshly against the stained tank he wore and pushing it down towards his lap. Baby laughed in the crowd. They could see you struggling, subtly trying to escape his grip without interrupting the flow of the show.
I wanna be kissed by you,
You finally managed to slip away from him, shooting a deadly look his way, which he returned with one that seemed to say, “You are going to regret that.”
just you!
When you got to Baby, she pulled you down to her seat and wrapped her legs around your waist, holding them there to plant kisses all over your face. It made her giggle.
Nobody else but you!
The song dragged on painfully slow. After everyone had been given attention and the song was coming to an end, you went back to the stage and tried your best to sway your hips, dragging your fingers up and down your figure.
The music faded, and so did Baby’s cheers. Your eyes felt unfocused, and somewhere in between the dancing and lip-syncing, you closed them and let the muffled music guide your movements.
When you drowned out the bad, everything felt serene. Your fingertips brushed against your cleavage, dragging to your shoulders and down your sides. The gentle touches made you shiver, and the swaying of your hips became more fluid. At one point you even played with your hair, tilting your head up towards the dim stage lights and opening your mouth wide, mouthing the words slower.
I couldn’t aspire, to anything higher,
The tall man watched you from the crowd. It would be a lie to say you couldn’t feel his eyes on you, drinking you in, thinking God knows what.
then, filled the desire, to make you my own!
He never once took his eyes off of you. Baby was having the time of her life. Your dead friends would have made fun of you for being so seductive, hyping up your curves and dazed expression.
The music continued to play, and you made your way up the stairs.
Boop-Boop-a-Doop!
Your finishing pose included your hand on your hip, body tilted slightly, one hand outstretched to point at the crowd.
And after it was all over, they erupted into cheering and whistling. Even Mama, who was beside the stage, cheered you on and clapped up a storm.
The tall man left the room, and all you could do was pretend to not be staring after him.
FLY, FIREFLY
otis driftwood/plus-sized reader
~~ two ~~
Every part of your body ached. Nausea was making you rock back and forth, trying to shield your head from the feeling, trying to make it go away. It was worse than a migraine. Maybe you had hit your head on something, maybe that’s what caused it. Too tired to open your eyes. Something smelled like makeup and perfume. There was something else mixed into that, something metallic and uncomfortable.
A light shone into your face, bright enough to cause you to flinch and squeeze them shut tighter. Your head was throbbing now.
“Hey, were you playin’ with me? I thought you were asleep!” it was Baby’s voice, only now it wasn’t butterfly-inducing, it worsened the nausea. You wanted her to quiet down, to turn the light off and leave you alone.
The situation was a confusing one. You just could not wrap your brain around what was going on. How did you get in whatever room the both of you were in? What happened? Where was Josh, and Wes, and Ally? Were they okay? Were they in the same room?
“You’re not very nice, you know. Here I am, prettying you up, and you won’t even talk to me!” something sharp touched your cheek, enough to make you instinctively let out an, “ow,” even though nothing had happened. Baby laughed. “It’s just a brush, silly. I ain’t gonna hurt ‘ya.”
Upon finally opening your eyes, you saw that it really was just a makeup brush. One of the bristles had just poked your cheek the wrong way.
At that point, you decided to look around. In front of you was a mirror, much like one from a movie set where the actors would get dressed. It had circular lights around the big wooden frame, and below it was a desk with neatly arranged makeup products and brushes.
To your left was Baby, humming a tune and rummaging through a drawer. Her hair was covering her face and she had taken the cowboy hat off, but still wore the same outfit as when you’d picked her up.
Finally, to your right was a door. It was cracked and light shone through, though beyond it was silence. You had half expected to hear tortured screams, maybe the sound of gunshots, but everything was quiet. Maybe too quiet, or maybe you were just overthinking it.
“Gotcha! See, I haven’t used this liquid stuff in a long time, but your skin just won’t work with my powder,” that seemed to upset her, and as she bent down to study your face, you felt the urge to look away. Had they kidnapped you just to do your makeup? Was this some sick joke?
“Sorry,” was the only thing you could say. Baby furrowed her eyebrows and shoved your forehead.
“Hey, sorry isn’t allowed around here. It isn’t your fault that your skin’s just so dry, so stop apologizin’!” she roughly set the glass container of foundation onto the dresser to make a point before grabbing a bottle of moisturizer, rubbing it into her hands and dabbing it on your face. It was cold, and somehow dulled the ache in your head. Her hands worked to rub it all in, and when she was done, she grabbed the other makeup products and began to work with those as well, often muttering a, “Fuck,” or a, “This damned thing.”
After some time had passed and she seemed to be finished with your face, she smiled, admiring her work. “Whatcha think?” she pointed to the mirror and naturally, you looked.
The person you saw did not look like you. Your skin was pale white, there was dark eyeshadow around your eyes, and your lips seemed to be shaped like a heart, the corners wiped away by the makeup. Your eyebrows were thin and angled downwards. It was...not how you’d expected to look, though it did feel good. You felt empowered, and also slightly embarrassed.
“Wow...” when you spoke, it was quiet and tentative. Baby groaned loudly.
“All of my hard work, and I get a ‘wow’? You should learn how to praise people right.” Baby irritatedly stuffed her makeup back into the bag, and for some reason, you felt bad. She did spend a lot of her time making you look pretty, and though you didn’t know the reason, it was only right to give her the proper amount of gratitude.
“Thank you, Baby, I like it...” you tried to speak loud enough for her to hear, and when she did, she turned around and gave you a big smile.
“I knew ya’ did! Just wanted to hear you say it is all.” she giggled and went behind you, opening a closet that you could see through the mirror. Inside of it were dresses, big and small, reds and blacks, whites and pinks, different shapes and fabrics. It really was like a movie star’s room. Baby spun the chair around that you were sitting in. “Which one do you prefer- white or red?”
You stared at the two dresses. The white one was simple and lace-like, very much showing skin. It gave off more of a dainty energy. The red one was bold and sexy, flowing and long at the bottom. It was most definitely not your style, but then again, you were far from comfortable with wearing dresses.
“White.” you pointed at it in case she couldn’t hear you, and a big, big smile covered her face.
“Alright, Baby-Cakes, let’s get you ready!”
And then she allowed you to go into the bathroom to get dressed. It appeared that she trusted you at least a little bit to not run away. Could you even do it, though, if you wanted to?
Pulling on the dress was easier than you’d expected. It fit perfectly, though you were not at all used to clothes hugging your skin as it was. It matched the makeup look, and the only off-putting thing about your appearance was your hair, which was tangled and messy. You looked down at your legs, a knot tying itself in your stomach. They were big, not pale and dainty like a dress-wearing girl’s. You hoped Baby wouldn’t make fun.
When she opened the door, she whistled and gave you an approving look. “I knew I saw something in you! One more point for Baby Firefly.” Firefly? You wondered if that was her last name, if it were so, it was pretty cool, and gave a small smile.
“I’m sorry if it looks bad.” You apologized quietly, smoothing the dress out around your thighs.
“You have got to stop saying sorry to me. One more time and I’ll cut your tongue out, see how you apologize then.” Baby was getting frustrated with your view of yourself. Had she not already made it clear that you looked good?
“Sorr-okay.” You quickly corrected yourself, nodding. That pleased her.
For about another hour she sat you down and did your hair, making sure to take time on every strand, putting hair products in, massaging your scalp with the brush every time it went through your hair, curling it, and fluffing it up with her hands when she had finished.
“You’re glowing!” Baby giggled, putting her hands on your shoulders. Maybe, just maybe, you looked okay for once.
“What is this for?” You finally decided to ask, and an even bigger grin plastered itself onto her face. She stepped back, reaching down and picking up a pair of white high-heels.
“You’re going to be the star of the show this year, Puddin’. I hope you’re ready, because we’re about to practice the song.”
...
After another hour had passed, you’d memorized the entirety of I Wanna Be Loved by You by Helen Kane. It was a beautiful song, really, but Baby had explained you would have to lip sync it all, interact with the large audience, and do your best to make it..well...alluring. You were about as sexy as a pig with two legs and scoliosis.
She had warned you not to get scared, not to complain, and, most importantly, she told you that if you messed the night up, she’d kill you.
It was very motivating.
“Hey, Spacey, we ain’t got time to be daydreaming! Show starts in 20!” Baby grabbed your arm, dragging you out of her bedroom and down the stairs. You heard a familiar-sounding scream from somewhere above the floor you both were on, followed by shouting that sounded like it came from a man. The voice was deep. Baby noticed you looking and laughed. “Don’t mind that. My brother’s just getting everyone ready for the big show.”
Only God knew what that meant.
FLY, FIREFLY
otis driftwood / plus-sized reader
~~ one ~~
“Rise and shine, we’re going in.”
The knocking at your window was loud. The car had been rumbling in front of a gas pump for a good ten minutes, which you thought defeated the purpose of getting gas. The boys were stupid, though, and didn’t care about that. Their attention was focused on Captain Spaulding’s Fried Chicken and Gasoline, the gas station store all lit up for Halloween. There was a clown holding its white-painted hand up in a greeting outside of the doors, and a skeleton entrance with glowing red eye sockets.
For a moment you sat in the warm car, contemplating pushing open the door and going to grab a snack. The road trip had lasted almost an entire day, going from Kentucky to Texas, with multiple stops in-between. The stretch of road you all had been on was the longest yet, having no gas stations, rest stops, or houses for more miles than you could count. And when things were getting dire, Captain Spaulding’s showed up. It was a little bit odd, really, for such a decorated place to be in the middle of nowhere, but it was a blessing all the same.
There was no rush to go inside. The air on your skin was nice, though the more you stared at the clown that was waving in your direction, the more your break from the car went sour. It was creepy.
You heard one of the boys call your name and so in you went, the smell of greasy food very prominent. It also smelled like dust, and some flew by and tickled your nose. The oldest in the group was talking to a fat man in clown makeup and a white shirt stained red and blue, as well as a singular brown stain that you presumed to be beer. There was an undertone of alcohol and farts in the room. Very welcoming.
After you had moved around the room a bit, studying the collection of old items the clown had, he took notice of you. His entire face lit up like he had never seen another woman in his life. It was strange, too, because you did carry a little more weight than the women that men usually went for. Though...as you observed the beer belly on him, you realized that his attraction to you may not be so odd after all. He eyed you like fresh meat.
“Why, if you ain’t the most darlin’ thing I ever seen!” the voice that came from him was scratchy, loud, and very, very southern. He approached swiftly, abandoning the friend of yours that he was talking to and flashing a big yellow smile your way. It was..the opposite of charming.
What was one supposed to say in that situation? The fat clown stared you down, expecting a response, but your mouth was unusually dry. Was “thank you” appropriate? How about, “I’m sure that’s not true”? Or maybe, “Please leave me alone and go breathe in someone else’s face.” The more you thought of an appropriate response, the more the world drowned itself out. Voices became muffled and time flew by all too fast.
“Hello? Earth to the pretty lady on isle 2?” the clown was talking again. How long had you been in your own world?? He was naturally loud and obnoxious, so being pulled back to earth by him was no surprise.
“I’m sorry,” the apology was quiet, and you could see his predator eyes on you already.
“So, lovely lady, you got a name?”
Did you? Was it a good idea to tell it to this stranger? The energy rolling off of him was purely predatory. He was up to something.
“Franny,” you said slowly. His eyes gleamed in the dim yellow light. The clown would believe anything, it seemed.
“Well, Franny, is there a reason you and your friends happened to stumble along this ole’ place?”
One of the younger boys piped in, standing beside you and smiling widely. “We were on our way to a big horror attraction down here. Something about a-“
“-Doctor Satan?” the clown finished for him, an eager grin resting on his face. It seemed to delight your friend to an immeasurable extent.
“Yeah, Doctor Satan!”
“Well you’ve busted the luck nut, folks, because I’ve got him right over here,” when everyone turned to see what he was talking about, he pulled back a curtain to reveal a room oozing smoke and purple light. The boys were excited and for a moment you were, too. But then you remembered what the situation was, and silently urged them not to go on the ride.
They didn’t get your message.
...
After the ride, the boys were pumped. You thought it was mildly interesting, the story of Doctor Satan, but it became less interesting when the clown handed your friends a map and told them it lead to where they wanted to go, which was to the attraction they’d been trying to get to. The real Dr. Satan’s Bloodbath. Everyone that went on the road trip was a huge horror fan, having seen all of the classics, the modern films, and everything in-between.
There were two girls in the car and two boys. One was your (platonic) girlfriend’s boyfriend. The other was a boy who had joined the friend group relatively recently. He was older than all of you, and you were somewhere in the middle when it came to age. In weight, however, you were the heaviest, weighing in at around two hundred and thirty-five pounds. For your height, it was..embarrassing, but you weren’t too self conscious of it. Your friends seemed to accept you, and that was enough.
Rain tapped hard on the windows, little flashes of lightening happening outside of the car. It was not a long way to the attraction you were all trying to get to, in fact you could probably arrive in under twenty minutes.
It was mostly silent in the car. There was a sleeping girl beside you and her boyfriend was staring out of his window, looking zoned out. The silence didn’t last long, as someone finally spoke up.
“Hey, woah, look!”
So, you looked. There was a girl standing on the side of the road with her thumb up, getting soaked by the rain. She wore a cowboy hat and loose jeans, her bust hardly covered by a soaked red button up tied into a crop. It was...a sight to behold. Her hair was long and blonde, and you thought you heard giggling coming from her when the car stopped.
“We’re picking her up?” you asked quietly, unsure where she would sit. The back seat was mostly taken.
“Of course we are. She’s a girl standing out in the rain! Have you no heart, Y/N?” the boy in the passenger seat exaggerated, rolling down his window when the girl skipped up to it. “Hey there,” he said cheerily, and you watched her giggle in his face, “need a ride?”
“You bet I do!” the blonde laughed and went to the back seat, pulling open the door and glancing down at you. Her stomach was visible, flat and pale with little droplets of rain dripping down the skin onto the waistline of her jeans. Another smile lit up her face. “Like what ‘ya see, Pretty?” the nickname was surprising. A girl like her had never complimented someone who looked like you. It threw you off momentarily.
Without verbally replying, you gave a rapid nod of your head. She seemed to think it was cute and smiled before climbing over you to be in the middle, her face visible in the driver’s side mirror.
“My house’s not far from where we are now. Just keep goin’ on up this road, turn right and we’ll be smack dab in the driveway!”
“Sounds good. But hey, you haven’t told us your name yet..” turning in his seat, your friend in the passenger side kept his every ounce of attention on the blonde girl. She found his statement funny.
“Oh yeah? Well, big guy, you haven’t exactly told me yours either.”
You smiled to yourself. Her bubbly attitude was laced with underlying humor, though it was hard to detect at first.
“I’m Josh,” he said, an excited look on his face, “that’s Wes, she’s Ally, and she’s Y/N.”
“And I’m Baby! Great, now we all know each other!” Baby plopped down into the seat, her thigh touching yours. For some reason, the car became significantly warmer.
Slowly but surely, a big house came into sight. Well, the trash outside was visible before the building, but it showed up soon after. Baby had stayed relatively quiet, though a smile never left her lips, and she still sent a few winks your way whenever she got the chance. It made your chest feel all fluttery and weird. Having such a pretty girl in the car was not a good idea, and you were not even dressed for such an occasion. What if you were embarrassing yourself just by sitting there? You were wearing men’s jeans that were much too big, a black tank-top tucked into it and one of your dad’s huge zip-up hoodies. The outfit had looked nice in the mirror, but you were sure that sitting next to Baby you must look...big.
“Here we are!” she brought you out of your thoughts, pointing to the front door. The porch lights were on.
“Want me to walk you to the door?” Josh asked, glancing back at Baby. She laughed.
“Sure thing, Handsome.”
After climbing over you once again, Baby was out and Josh was following her like an excited puppy. His metaphorical tail was wagging.
Just like the saying goes: “Men are dogs.”
The wait in the car was not a long one. You spent most of the time scraping your foot against the back of the passenger seat, searching outside of the foggy window for any sign of Baby or Josh. When both of them called out that the door was unlocked, you were forced into the cold and rainy outside.
The front yard was trashed with metal cages, tools, old toys and dolls, chairs, couches, bed frames, and most of the things that you would see at a yard sale. Most were broken and dirty, though some looked freshly thrown out.
The mud squelched under your feet. It was almost deep enough to sink into, but you, Ally, and Wes were moving quickly, trying to get out of the rain and into Baby’s house. Once you all got there, you quickly took note of the dolls hanging outside on the wall. They were painted on, most looking cultic and related to demons, (hopefully) fake blood smeared on their hands, faces, chests, and stomachs. It was one more thing added to the list of strange things that had happened thus far.
“What the hell..” Ally seemed to have noticed the dolls as well. You shook your head and she opened the door, revealing a comfortable-looking living-room where Josh was seated with Baby, laughing about something on the TV.
There was a fire going in the fireplace, the couches soft-looking with blankets and quilts draped over the backs of them. Baby constantly giggled, her eyes landing on Ally, and then Wes, and then you. You both made eye contact and she flashed another smile. Your heart did a flip. Was it really the right time to be developing a crush on that girl? Something was off about it all, so it was most definitely not appropriate.
“I think we’ll be heading out now..” Wes began, and Baby seemed to just ignore him. For a moment, everyone just sat there and awkwardly watched the TV with her. It was almost laughable how she’d answered with..well, no answer at all. Southern manners meant waiting for the owner of the house to allow you to leave, or at the very least acknowledge your departure.
“Well...it was nice meeting you.” Ally finally spoke up, grabbing Josh’s hand and pulling him away from Baby, who rolled her eyes a little before putting on a big smile.
“Yeah! Don’t get lost on your way home!” she jumped up, dusted her pants off, and went into another room.
You and the others all looked at each other, making a “what the Hell just happened” face before leaving the house. Ally was complaining about how close Baby had been to Josh, who defended himself by saying that he didn’t want to be rude to her and that, “She was a girl!” It sounded like a pitiful excuse to cover up his attraction to her, but Ally seemed to believe it. She’d believe anything.
“That was some weird shit, huh?” Wes told you, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you all walked back to the car. Admittedly, you had always been more attracted to him than the rest. He was smart, had a decent sense of humor, and was quiet, which was all good enough.
“Yeah. Did you see the dolls?” The rain was getting worse as every second passed. It rolled down into your glasses, fogging them up. Wes reached over and took them off of your face, causing a momentary panic, but he simply wiped them off and put them back on for you.
“I did. That was some horror movie stuff...” he trailed off, going to the driver’s side of the car and waiting for everyone to get in. Once they did, he started it.
The car started.
The car was...most definitely going to start.
All it did was roar, tremble, groan, and give out. Wes looked at Josh. Josh looked at Wes. Ally looked confused, and you had half expected it. An eerie, unsettling feeling rested in the pit of your stomach. Something was most definitely wrong.
“What the fuck?”
“Did we not just get gas?”
“You ran the damn battery down, didn’t you?”
“Don’t look at me! You’re in charge of the damn thing!”
As the two boys argued, Ally reached for your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. You squeezed back. The rain hid everything on the outside, masking any noises that may have been heard.
They did not see it coming until it hit.
“It” being the brick that crashed through the window and hit their designated driver.
Screams filled the car, and you could hear the sound of ecstatic laughter coming from outside. It was audible even through the rain. The world was becoming muffled again. You were drifting off into your safe place, the world you had created when things got bad, too bad, and you’d needed an escape. It was shielding you, shutting off every sense, every thought.
It shut out Ally’s screams when a pair of big, gloved hands reached through the window, smashed it, and dragged her out by her hair. It muffled Josh’s strangled pleas as the bat came down through the front window. It silenced your voice when the door opened and your body hit the mud and strong fingers curled into your hair, pulling you along, though you half dragged yourself. Why? It seemed that whoever it was meant to take you to be killed, so why comply? Autopilot told your brain to kick the mud, to help them drag you. The embarrassment of being too big to drag was strong. Reality was not setting in. Everything was happening too fast, much too fast for you to even react properly. Maybe it would set in later. Who knows?
In the next few minutes, the blur became worse. You were half aware of being dragged up a set of stairs, someone shouting something along the lines of, “-on the fucking carpet!” What was on the carpet? The mud? It seemed to be the only reasonable answer, considering the fact that you were trailing mud through the house much like a snail. The grip in your hair was beginning to hurt, but your brain would not let you come back down to Earth. Why?
Earth to Y/N!
Earth to Y/N!!
You there??
Everything went dark.
Hannibal | OdeToMurder
A renowned composer falls for a young singer.
for @hannibalcreative
You were Randall Tier’s final enemy.
It’s nice when someone sees us, Hannibal. Or has the ability to see us. It requires trust. Trust is difficult for you.
I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself as when I’m with him.
At least whatever is wrong with me is really really funny
Hannibal: maybe I overreacted a bit
Bedelia: u fucking stabbed Will
hun, you’re going to make his heart explode
HANNIBAL + Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)
I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter. Mukozuke → Hannibal (2013-15)