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mrsaltieri-real · 10 months

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Partner in Crime (Victim!Mickey Altieri X Ghostface!Reader)

Reader is AFAB

Word count: 5.3k

Warning/s: ghostface!reader, “victim!mickey” (kinda not really though), blood, gore, gruesome murder descriptions, changes to canon scream 2 (obviously), violence, language, smut, p in v, blood kink, riding, choking, slight orgasm denial, teasing, biting, reader is bat shit crazy and so is Mickey, lying, deception, partners in crime (duh), etc

God this took me a long ass time but it’s worth it because I LOVE how it came out. Took a LOT of trial and error from my part trying to capture this just right but we finally got there and I can post this. I am so so excited about this fic.

Once again thank you to the gorgeous @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this for me and helping me with ideas to make this come out just right. Could NOT have done this without you Bex <3

On that note, LETS FUCKING GO.

“Who could be doing this?” Sidney mused quietly, elbow propped on the rustic wood of the bench she sat on, hand resting on her forehead. “I mean, how could this possibly be happening again?”

Derek sat beside her, hand rubbing small soothing circles into her back, Hallie looked at her sympathetically and Randy was gently biting at the loose skin of his thumb, eyes scanning the crowd. Mickey seemed to be in his own little world, gazing at the hubbub of cameramen and reporters bustling around the college square, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on your thigh. Your eyes were set on Sidney’s anxious face trying to resist the urge to smile at her fear, everything in her body language was communicating the tension and unease inside her.

All of this was way, way too easy. After discovering last year that the survivors of the Woodsbro massacre were attending Windsor, you’d found yourself intensely curious and decided to transfer there from your previous college. You’d easily managed to fit into their friend group within about a month of being there and eagerly put your plan in motion.

It had been easier than you’d anticipated to get most of them, especially Randy and Mickey to tell you just about everything you didn’t know, making sure to spread your questions over the course of a few weeks rather all at once. You didn’t want suspicion to arise due to overly keen and pressing curiosity, so it was just small things only being spoken about if another member of the group brought it up. So, whenever Randy brought up in a pissed off tone anything about Billy Loomis, you’d casually slide in a question, like “Why would he even do something like that?” or “How did it happen?“ and Randy would eagerly start chatting like a parrot, telling you just about everything you needed to know under the guise of your concerned friend act.

It was almost amusing how easy it all was.

“I don’t know, Sid.” Derek sighed, looking with nothing but undiluted fear at his anxious girlfriend. “But they’ll find the sick fuck.”

“Honestly, it might have nothing to do with you.” Mickey spoke up, dragging his eyes away from the bustling crowd. Sidney’s eyes flickered to Mickey and she frowned, brow creased as she questioned him.

“Two kids who attended our college got carved up by someone in a Ghostface costume and you think it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Randy and I?”

Mickey shrugged, stopping the drumming on your thigh and leaned forward on the bench. “I don’t know, Sid. But it was opening night for a movie based on real events. Maybe someone was just playing some kind of sick joke and it just went too far?”

“Wow. You’ve had a lot of time to think about alternatives haven’t you, Mickey?” Randy spoke up, eyes narrowing at him. Your gaze moved from Sidney’s anguished face and focused on Randy’s.

“What are you implying, Randy?” You asked in a clipped tone.

“I’m not implying anything.” He muttered and you felt your nails cut into your palm as your hands clenched into tight fists.

“Calm down, Randy.” Hallie rolled her eyes at him with a scoff, “I saw Mickey in the library last night.”

Randy muttered something that sounded like, “Sure whatever”, under his breath and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks so you didn’t rip him apart right then and there.

You couldn’t begin to describe the sudden unbearable rage you felt when Randy had even hinted at Mickey being the killer. From the day you’d met him, you’d felt yourself utterly drawn to and infatuated with everything about him. There was an all too familiar darkness about him, about his aura that caused you to magnetise yourself to him, refusing to break away no matter what. Did anyone else suspect Mickey? Your eyes scanned the faces of your ‘friends’ but the conversation continued between the four of them, slowly merging into something else entirely and you felt nothing but Mickey’s anxious eyes set on your face.

“You alright, baby?” He asked, feeling his large hand covering your tightly clenched one and you quickly blinked, flashing him a small smile.

“Yeah, of course I am. Why?” You asked as innocently as you could muster, praying that you came off as genuine.

He raised his eyebrows a little and pointedly looked down at your other hand gripping the edge of the bench so hard your nails seemed almost permanently embedded in the cracked wood. You moved your hand quickly and shook it out as you sighed. “I’m fine.” You assured him, lightly pressing your palm against his stubbly cheek. “I’ve got a class in a few so I should get going.” You announced to the group and you felt all of them glance at you.

“I’ll walk you.” Mickey said, standing up from the bench and grabbing his bag and video camera.

“No, no it’s fine.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly pushing him back down onto the bench as you were shaking your head. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m sure the big bad monster isn’t going to attack me while I walk to class in the middle of the day.”

You lightly pecked him on the lips before turning on your heel and walking to class, feeling suspicious brown eyes watching you all the while.

��————————-————————-————

“So, you gonna tell me what the hell has been going on with you?”

You gasped, jumping as your hand clutched your chest and you glared up at Mickey, who was leaning against the wall outside your lecture hall. “Have you been waiting out here the whole time I was in there?” You asked with a frown.

“No,” Mickey lied and swiftly took your books out of your hands before you could stop him as he began to walk, begrudgingly you begin following after him. “So, are you?”

“Nothing is going on with me.” You insisted, rolling your eyes. “Why would you assume there is?”

“You’re not anywhere near as mysterious as you think, babe.” A smile toyed on his lips as you both walked down the hall, his free hand lightly resting on your hip.

“And you’re not nearly as intuitive as you think you are.” You muttered under your breath. He let out a frustrated groan before tugging you by the loop of your jeans into an empty classroom.

“Seriously, what is with you lately? You seem…” Mickey hesitated a little, teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he spoke again “…Different. You keep brushing me off whenever I ask to hang out and you always seem like you're kind of somewhere else. I’m worried about you.”

“Mick, I’m just really busy.” You sighed, lightly removing his hands from your body. I’ve got a dissertation due in a few days, and-“ you cut yourself off for a second, realisation hitting.

You knew Mickey far too well. As laid back as he was, you knew deep down he worried about you far too much. His analytical and downright clingy behaviour must’ve been down to one thing and one thing only. The murders he had no idea you were committing. You let out some air from your mouth and looked up at him with a sudden fondness.

“Is this because of what happened to those two kids?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

“You’re distracted.” He said simply, shrugging a little. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the soft smile that lit up your face as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your toes to affectionately kiss him. You felt him relax a little, relief evident in the way he kissed you back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your skin from over your shirt.

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” You assured, your voice absolutely certain as you pulled back to look him in the eye. “I promise. And nothings going to happen to you either.”

“I’m not worried about me.” He mumbled insistently pressing his forehead to yours.

You sighed a little, moving your hand down to his and intertwining your fingers together. “I mean it, Mick. You have nothing to worry about. I can practically guarantee it.”

Mickey looked you up and down, confusion evident on his face at the way you’d spoken and you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to the Delta Lambda party tonight?”

“Of course, why? Are you not?”

“No, no I’ll be there. I’m just making sure you’ll be. I might be a little late though I have some more work to do on my dissertation and call my dad. He’s worried given everything going on, you know?” You internally sighed. Now you’d actually have to fucking call him to stay true to your alibi. Great.

“I can wait with you and we can go together.”

You felt your teeth grind together and you wracked your brain for some kind of excuse.

“Mickey.” You said gently, looking at him sympathetically. “Randy’s suspecting you...” -another situation you’ll no doubt have to deal with sooner rather than later. “- so I think you need to stay within his sights for a while. You know how he gets. No doubt he’ll start stalking you so it’s probably best just to stay on top of that.”

Mickey looked unconvinced by your reasoning and something odd crossed his features but disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Alright, babe. I’ll be there the whole time.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered out toward the sound of a laugh and he rolled his eyes, making you turn to see what he was looking at.

“Why are you looking at Cici Cooper like that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just something she said in my film class.” Mickey said dismissively but you pressed, frowning.

“What did she say?“

“In a nutshell? My ideas on film and cinema are stupid. Apparently I’m biased because I believe there are a lot of sequels that are better than their original.” Mickey shrugged a little.

Your frown deepened.

Mickey had always been heavily passionate about films and extremely defensive about the films he loved. It may have been a tiny insult to any other person but anybody talking about Mickey in a way that was even somewhat negative? With the bloodlust you felt right now?

Well, it’s just a fucking recipe for disaster.

—————————-————————-————

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Randy slurred a little as he spoke to Mickey, flopping down beside him with a loud huff. Mickey recoiled slightly at the uncomfortable closeness.

“When I left her dorm she was talking to her dad. He seemed really worried so she might take a while getting here.”

“Hm.” Randy hummed, unamused and unconvinced before taking another sip of his drink.

“What, Randy.” Mickey sighed. “Got any more theories? Think she’s the killer now?”

Randy laughed too loudly and shook his head with a dismissive wave of his hand that wasn’t holding his drink. “Her? The killer? Please.” Randy leaned back. “No way she could’ve taken down a guy as big as Phil Stevens.”

Mickey nodded slightly, completely dissociating after Randy confirmed he didn’t suspect her.

But did Mickey?

He thought for a second about your behaviour leading up to the deaths of those two students. You were erratic, excited and ridiculously horny. Your sex drive had been so high for a week prior that even he was beginning to struggle to keep up. It had been kinkier than ever, and you were oddly dominating in a way Mickey wasn’t at all used to. He was used to being the one in control but recently, it was like you were a completely different person. It would be messy and rough. You’d bite him, scratch him and leave marks all over him just as he enjoyed doing to you. The give and take was a lot more fun than he would’ve anticipated. It never crossed his mind that someone as sweet as you could have this much of a sexually repressed edge.

Of course, he didn’t complain. He liked that you were comfortable enough with him to bring it out. This side to you was just as exciting as it was endearing to him. But then after the murders, it didn’t change. It built up more and more. You’d come back to his dorm after “studying”, eyes bright and almost menacing and practically pounced on him. In all honesty, it was probably the best sex the two of you had ever had.

But after that night, it changed drastically in a very different way. You’d stopped touching him, started avoiding him. You became more on edge and agitated yet ten times more focused.

He would never tell anyone about these changes he’d witnessed in you, but he was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed. He paid so much attention to you day to day that even the slightest change couldn’t go past him. And now? What the fuck were you really doing?

Randy was distracted, leaning over the arm of the couch and chatting to some girl. Mickey almost laughed at his lack of game before standing up, deciding to go and check on you. Something didn’t quite add up in his mind and he was going to find out what it was even if it killed him.

——————-————————-—————————

The undiluted pleasure spreading through you spurred you on as you stabbed Cici in the torso, her feeble attempts to fight you off fading every time the blade in your hand came down and plunged the cold steel deep into her.

Tormenting her via the phone call was fun, but this was ten times better. Perhaps she didn’t deserve this, she was only messing around with Mickey in class. It was a debate about films after all. But that didn’t matter to you. The fact she’d insulted someone that was yours made killing this sweet girl all the more fulfilling. Besides, you needed to kill someone whilst Mickey had an ironclad alibi. You didn’t need him on anyone's suspect list.

You watched in glee as the light in her eyes turned into a blank, glossy stare and brought the knife down once more, directly into her throat. She let out a muffled gargle and her mouth went slack. Cici’s fingers and legs twitched a couple of more times before you heard the release of air burst through her lips and just like that, she was dead. You moved from straddling her to stand over her as you wiped the blood off of the blade with your gloved hand.

“Stupid bitch.” You muttered, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings before removing the mask, sighing and cracking your neck.

You’d caught your first two victims, Phil and Maureen completely off guard, so although it had been fun to kill them, they were almost too easy to overpower and that took away from it a little. It made it almost boring in comparison to this. Cici on the other hand? The slight blonde girl had put up quite the fight. She’d kicked and scratched, she’d screamed and tried her best to fight you off of her to no avail. Your bloodlust made her absolutely no match for you.

You finally understood why Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had called their victims to taunt them first. The taste of satisfaction on your tongue was almost overwhelming, the sight of her crying, begging for you to spare her made you feel a way you’d never felt before.

Whilst you were revelling in your victory you heard the snap of a twig and your head snapped in the direction, the Ghostface mask gripped tight between your fingers.

“Mickey?” You gasped his name as he walked toward you, eyes huge and mouth open while he looked from Cici’s badly mutilated corpse and to your shocked face.

“It’s you? You’re the killer?”

To your surprise, he didn’t sound angry, or surprised. He didn’t look disgusted or even the slightest bit afraid. He looked… Almost curious. His intrigued brown eyes finally focused on your face after they dragged up from the girl lying dead on the ground.

“I..” you couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought as you stuttered. The last thing you wanted was to kill him, not Mickey. Not your Mickey. As he stepped closer, your hands instinctively lifted the knife and pointed it at him defensively and his hands rose, palms up. “You’re not going to fucking tell anyone.”

Mickey’s expression turned from intrigued to almost offended. “You think I would?”

You gave him a doubtful look but didn’t drop your guard, eyes monitoring his every move as he asked, “Baby, why?”

You frowned at him, tilting your head. “Why Cici or why am I doing this?” You felt frustrated, a raise of your hands and a shake of your head as you said, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this. Why the fuck did you leave the party, Mickey? I told you to stay there. That was your goddamn alibi so no one would suspect you.”

“I…I came to look for you,” His finger pointed in the direction of your building that was about a five minute walk from the sorority. “-and I heard screams and I was curious. So I walked up here and saw you stabbing the fuck outta Cici.” His shoulders turned up in a slight shrug.

“How the fuck are you acting so normal?” You hissed at him. It was hard not to be suspicious. Mickey was acting as though he caught you cheating on a damn test. This wasn’t normal behaviour for someone who’d just watched his girlfriend brutally gut somebody right in front of him.

He ignored you, asking once again, “Why?”

You sighed, briefly glancing around at your surroundings before your gaze focused back on your intrigued boyfriend. You hesitated a little, unsure what to do with the knife still pointed at him. It felt wrong pointing a weapon at Mickey. You loved him, but how could you let him live now? He was a witness, a loose end, and there’s nothing you hated more than loose ends.

Mickey watched as your face changed into a look of frustration and he lowered his hands, glancing down at the knife before hesitantly taking another step toward you. You didn’t stop him, suddenly needing to feel him closer. When you felt stress like this, you always needed him around. He made you feel better, normal somehow. Well, as normal as you could feel given who you were.

But can you trust him? The small voice in the back of your head muttered to you and you sighed, the agitated desperation evident on your face.

“Does it matter?“ you asked between gritted teeth.

“Baby, I swear I’m not going to tell anyone.” Mickey spoke gently, as though you were a wild animal he was trying to tame.

“How do I know that?” You snapped, glaring up at him.

“Because I wouldn’t do that.” Mickey looked offended at your comment, a small frown taking over his features. “I love you, and I’d never do anything that would put you at risk. Come on baby, you know that!”

“You promise?” You asked cautiously. One thing about Mickey is that he never lied to you. You always knew he had somewhat of an edge due to the movies he watched to his depraved sense of humour. Maybe that’s why you felt so bonded to him. Maybe that’s why you trusted him so entirely with even the darkest parts of yourself you’d never allow anyone else to see. As you felt his hand gently wrap around the knife in yours, you visibly relaxed as he gently pushed your hand down along with the blade, eyes filled with nothing short of admiration as he whispered, “On my life.”

“Okay.” You breathed as you nodded, sweaty hair falling into your eyes. You believed him, but still felt a little tense. Looking at him now, you knew he wouldn’t betray you, he loved you far too much. “I trust you. But Mickey, please go back to the party. I need to make sure you’re not a suspect and it won’t be long before someone stumbles across this.” You gestured down toward the mutilated body about a foot away from the two of you and he nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll go back. But what do I tell them if they ask where you are?” Mickey frowned again, not liking the thought of them suspecting you. What would he do if you got caught? He’d always needed you but now? He needed you more than ever. He wanted you to tell him everything, how it felt to kill, how you felt when you did it and more importantly why. He’d always had a dark curious side and knowing the woman he loved not only had that too but actively pursued that darkness? No way he could let anything happen to you now. No way you could leave him.

“Try and go back in there without anyone noticing. Call the phone in my dorm and I’ll answer and tell you I fell asleep. That’s the best we can do now if I do become a suspect and they trace my calls.”

Mickey nodded, hands moving to touch the back of your neck with his rough fingers and the other on the small of your back as he pulled you close to him, lips enveloping yours. It was tender and nearly desperate, making you feel weak as he pulled away, a smile on his face as he began hastily walking back in the direction he came.

You watched after him for a few seconds as he slowly disappeared into the black night before pulling off the Ghostface costume, rolling up the mask and knife inside of it, taking one last look at Cici Coopers mangled corpse, smiling in admiration at your work before turning and walking back to your dorm, thinking of all the possibilities that await you now you didn’t have to hide such an enormous part of yourself from the one person you’d never hurt.

—————-————————-—————————

It had been two days since Mickey caught you murdering Cici Cooper, donning the Ghostface costume. Within those two days, he’d been nothing short of bombarding you with questions with the most intense curiosity you’d ever seen. His questions were all about your motive and you told him without hesitation.

“I want to finish what Billy and Stu started-” you’d told him with a small shrug, sitting perched on your countertop as he cleaned the bloody knife you’d used to murder Cici. Watching him do this helps you, he offers to do it for you without prompting and it makes you feel warm, assured in what he said, what he promised, that he wouldn’t tell on you. He is an accomplice now, cleaning your murder weapon, there is a particular domesticity to it that you could really get used to.

“-but I didn’t want to go straight for Sidney and Randy. I knew I needed practice, and how better than to fucking terrify her than to kill people with names of the original victims first and work my way up to them?”

He’d listened intently, utterly fascinated by you and you had to admit, it felt good to be worshipped by someone. Especially Mickey who had zero judgement in him and if anything, desperately wanted to learn more.

You were no longer even slightly uneasy with answering his questions as you’d initially been, willingly responding to each query with heavy detail which he seemed to thrive off, eyes bright and expression keen.

According to Mickey, after he had gone back to the party, it had taken a matter of ten minutes before someone had seen Cici’s dead body and the police had been called. Luckily, nobody had noticed Mickey’s absence, but your small friend group had noticed you were nowhere to be seen. He’d lied smoothly after calling you and quoting what you’d previously told him to say.

The best part of being a woman? Especially one who looked as sweet and innocent as you did? Nobody thought twice about it.

Your original plan to attack Derek and bombard Sidney with hesitation and doubt about her own boyfriend would have to wait for a later date. Mickey’s little discovery had somewhat put a wrench in the works but much to your own surprise, it didn’t bother you. It felt incredible to have someone you could share the darkest parts of yourself with without an ounce of judgement.

And the sex? It had been non-stop since the moment Mickey had walked into your dorm room after he’d been interrogated. It had been intense in ways you’d never imagined. With him knowing everything, you didn’t have to hold back anymore and neither did he. He wanted to fuck you whilst you still had Cici’s blood on your hands and arms, something that did not only catch you by surprise, but instantly turned you on. How could you say no to that? The image of him, smudges of tacky and quickly oxidising scarlet painting his torso, along with hickey’s you left on his neck, shoulders and collarbone, hair a wreck post sex was burned into your brain.

You were straddling Mickey now, both of you stripped completely bare as you had been from the night he found out you were Ghostface, fingers woven through his dark hair as you angled and ground your hips down against him, small sighs falling from your lips as you felt him gliding in and out of your drenched pussy. His head was resting back against the headboard, dark lustful eyes watching your face as you leaned forward and moved your lips against his, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of your hips so hard they were bound to bruise.

“What’s it like?” He asks it softly and you pull back looking down at him, the smile spreads on your face and you ask, “What’s what like?”

Another fall of your hips, enveloping him totally once again, the roll of your body and the rhythm serving you both well, he asks, “What’s, ugh, what’s killing like?”

The laugh breaks out as you slow your pace, “That is what you are thinking about right now?”

You slam yourself down harder and he gasps out, “Yes,” The look in his eyes is practically pleading, “Please, tell me?”

Well how could you deny him?

“You want me to tell you what it feels like to slide cold steel into a warm body?” you whispered to him, one hand sliding from his hair to his throat, finger pressing gently against his racing pulse. “How it feels to see the terror on their face when they realise they’re going to die? Watch the life drain from their eyes?” A small whining sound escaped Mickey’s lips as you moved again, trying to fight the urge to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress as you spoke.

“Yes.” He murmured desperately.

“It’s like sex,” you said gently with another roll of your hips making him groan again as he felt your clit rub against him and your pussy clench around him. The slow, teasing pace you were giving him was driving him crazy, he needed either you to ride him with wreckless abandon, or be able to fuck up into you so hard you’d struggle to take it.

“-there’s something intimate about it. Nothing can compare to the feeling of having someone’s life in your hands and being the one with the power to take it away.” Your hands moved to his throat as you spoke, applying enough pressure so it wouldn’t really hurt him but it would definitely have an impact. He let out nothing short of a growl as you did, fucking up into you even harder.

His rough hands moved from your hips to your ass, kneading the soft flesh and his breath hitched as you began to move faster, eyes watching as your tits bounced in front of his face, thrusting his hips upward to match your pace. He moved one of his hands to slide down your torso, finding your swollen clit and began to move his fingers in small, deliberate circles around your swollen bud, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that he knew teased you in just the right way. You let out a small groan as he did, feeling the pressure begin to build in your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time in the last two days.

“Not yet.” He grunted, fingers slowing to an agonising pace. Even with you straddling him with your hand wrapped around his throat you listened, letting out a small gasp as he gripped your waist, flipping you over so you were on your back with him hoisting your legs around his waist as he started to thrust into you, eyes dark and almost menacing. He liked to be in control and although he knew your secret, it didn’t mean that was going to change.

“I want- fuck- I want to be there next time.” His tone was uneven as he fucked you, pinning your hands above your head with one hand, you groaned into your arm, relishing in the feeling of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you and the slight stubble of his trimmed pubes grinding against your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable as you tried to fight the instinct to let the pleasure completely envelop you. “And I want to help you.”

This made you snap back into reality for a moment and you leaned your head back, looking at him in shock. “You- you what?”

He didn’t stop but slowed down, releasing your hands and cupping your cheek. “I want to help you,” he repeated, a smile on his beautiful face. “I don’t want you to do this alone. Besides, Billy and Stu did it together. Why don’t we?”

You couldn’t help but let an almost sadistic grin take over your face. Maybe that could work? It would surely help you, and he was right. Billy and Stu worked together and Mickey was definitely twisted enough to be able to pull this off with you. You’d already killed three people solo and just imagining Mickey being there and helping you…

“I need to injure Derek and kill Randy next.” You breathed, smirking a little as you looked up at your boyfriend, legs still wrapped around his waist. You felt him twitch inside of you, anticipation evident on his face as he moved his hand down between the two of you. “I’ll start you off easy with Derek,” you said, voice cracking a little as you began to circle your clit once again. “Don’t kill him, but make it fucking hurt.”

You could hear the smile in Mickey’s voice as he began to roll his hips again, fingers moving expertly across your clit, a small moan falling from between his lips as he felt your teeth sink into the skin of his shoulder hard enough for you to taste his blood.

“I will, but I want to help you kill Meeks too, I wanna see him gutted.”

God, you loved him.

#damn this is my longest one yet #this is the only way I can picture ‘innocent’ Mickey #so here you go!#god i fucking love him #scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you

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randomshyperson · 2 years

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Rulers of The Multiverse - Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Chapter Four

Summary: Strange’s faulty spell will cause a series of unexpected events, from your reunion with the love of your life in another world to the appearance of a child capable of traveling across the multiverse. This story follows the journey of a very tired Guardian alongside mischievous America Chavez and Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: (+18) explicit language and sexual content, violence, a lot of magic, found family, mentions of abusive past and trauma, mind control, use of illicit substances, mostly top!reader, soulmates analogies. || Words: 5.723k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Four - An Uninvited God of Chaos and a World In Pieces

The first thing you see when you wake up is Wanda.

Not the Scarlet Witch you tried to contain before you woke up, but your Wanda. Adorable, annoyingly intelligent, and dead wife.

You blink to take in your surroundings, falling into a memory as you open your eyes. Memory isn't even what you would call it, because although everything seems lived, it never happened.

Wanda is a few meters away from you, sitting in an armchair with a book in her hand. Her curly hair is tied back in a loose bun, and you gasp softly at the sight of her so peaceful, so real.

She lifts her eyes to you and smiles, and you feel yours fill with tears. She frowns and closes the book.

"What's wrong baby?" She asks worriedly and you sigh deeply, shaking your head.

"N-nothing." You say affectedly looking around. "Where are we?"

Her worried expression seems to increase and she stands up to come to you.

"Honey, what do you mean where are we? At home, of course." She says with a smile, one of her hands touches your cheek and you shudder.

It's freezing.

You sniffle softly, lifting your hand to her forearm.

"We don't have a home, Wanda." You say with a broken voice but Wanda doesn't even seem to hear what you've said, she sighs softly.

"The girls are taking their time." She comments walking away to the stairs and you frown in confusion, but when you hear footsteps hurrying in the wood, you look back and sob.

Your daughters come down the stairs at high speed, racing for who gets to the end first. Wanda reprimands them for this, but you are more busy welcoming the little girls who run to you with open arms, hugging them tightly.

Your chest tightens when you realize you can't feel them. It's neither cold like Wanda, nor hot. Holding them is only visual because you can't feel anything since they never existed.

Swallowing another sob forming in your throat, you let go of them to place a hand on each one's shoulder, looking at their childish faces with a squeezed heart.

"Mommy, why are you crying?"

You force a smile, moving your hand to the youngest one's cheek. "It's nothing sweetheart, mommy is just happy to see you again."

"But mommy, Hallie, and I just went to put on our shoes as you asked." Retorts the little girl making you chuckle softly.

"And Annie stepped on my foot to win the race, Mommy! Tell her it's not fair to cheat!" Commented the older girl pouting. You pressed your lips together to control your crying, looking at the interaction with your chest tightened.

"Girls go get your backpacks and wait for us in the living room. Go go go." Wanda says and you take a second to let go, watching them run into the living room as soon as you did. Wanda puts her hand on your shoulder and you sob without getting up, putting one of your hands to your face. Wanda stoops down beside you.

"Honey, the girls are going to be startled. Tell me what's wrong." She asks, trying to put her hands on your face but you pull away and stand, feeling the air getting shorter. "Y/N?"

You put your hands on your head, closing your eyes tightly, your breathing out of rhythm. "Get out of my head."

"Y/N, it's just me..." Wanda tries in a whiny voice as well, trying to calm you down. "Please, baby."

"No, No, no!" you cry again in desperation. "You're dead! I'm not going through this again! Get out of my head!" You scream, and everything goes silent.

You only listen to your out-of-pace breathing for several minutes, not having the courage to open your eyes. But you swallow dry and decide to fight it.

The house is gone, and now you stand on empty ground. Wanda is still in front of you, but many meters away, with two children with blurred faces on either side of her. You know very well what memory this is. The day the Westview spell was broken.

You fall to your knees on the ground, the earth is black and damp.

"Stop. Please. I don't want to see this again." You plead into the void and watch your tears fall to the ground.

You hear footsteps on the grounds, and when you raise your eyes from the ground, the Scarlet Witch is standing in front of you, a short smile on her lips.

"Don't you think it's pathetic how easily humans break, Miss L/N?" Chthon mocks, his macabre voice mingling with Wanda's. You sniffle softly looking at him angrily.

"You didn't break me." You retort between teeth receiving a short smug laugh, the image of Wanda vacillating between her demonic and normal appearance like a conflicted shadow. It's scary to watch, to say the least.

"Because I can still be merciful." Warned the God, tilting his body so that his face was at the same height as yours. He lowered his voice, reddish irises looking at you intently. "Your attempt to contain my influence on her mind was the stupidest decision you have made since refusing to take the guardian's oath."

You let out a short chuckle, wiping the tears from your face. "Don't be so upset, Chthon. Learn to share."

Chthon - In Wanda's body - grunts in annoyance and a hand goes to your neck, squeezing hard. It gets hard to breathe, but you keep calm. All this is just a fantasy.

"I'm going to destroy every piece of your mind. And when I'm done, I'm going to do the same to that sad bitch." He warns hatefully, smiling mischievously. "If you don't piss me off, I might even let you watch."

You choke from lack of oxygen, and Chthon sighs impatiently, releasing his grip. You fall with your hands on the floor, panting and trying to regain your breath as he looks around.

"This here was so easy to find, Y/N." He says over the reminder. "Which means it's just the tip of the Iceberg. I'm going to have fun digging deep into what you're hiding guardian."

With one hand massaging your neck, you give a short laugh.

"Have you ever stopped to think that I'm not hiding anything?" You challenge looking up. "Some people just accept the truth instead of running from it."

"Wow, you would know a lot about the truth, wouldn't you, Guardian?" you mock the God gesturing to the ghosts of children a few feet away.

"Tell me, did it hurt more to kill them or find out they didn't even exist?" he mocks, and you grunt in irritation, eyes glittering. Your reaction widens his grin, and the God lowers himself back down to the height of your face. "Go on. Use your magic, fight back. I will love to watch you drag the little witch into your head, sharing your pain with her. I could even bet a few Underworld drachmas that if you press just a little further, she'll go completely insane..."

You let out a frustrated grumble, and your eyes return to normal coloration and you lower your head. Chthon's laughter mingles with Wanda's as he stands up.

"Blocking the magical flow in her body was a cheap trick, but a clever one I have to admit." Says the demon putting his hands in his suit pockets. "Just don't forget it's temporary, guardian. While you slow me down in her mind, I'll play with yours."

To the demon's surprise, you began to laugh. He looked at you with a frown and you raised your face.

"Your desperation to do all this just proves how strong Wanda is and that you underestimated her. Typical of all gods really." You say getting up unhurriedly. "We've been through this before, Chthon. You may be a God, but my mind is fortified by an infinity stone, along with my training under your sister's teachings. You didn't break me before, when I had nothing, and you won't break me now. Not when I have people to fight for again."

Chthon locks his jaw and you smile, giving Wanda's cheek a gentle pat. "Don't look so sad, God of Chaos." You sneer before turning your back on her.

You walk to get out of the lot, but the road gets longer as you try and you sigh impatiently at this trick. You stop walking, and without turning around, you ask, "Anything you want to add?"

Chthon sounds completely like Wanda then. "Y/N." She says and you choke, turning around. It's your Wanda again, the curly hair falling in cascades and a deep cut pulsing in her chest. You feel your eyes fill with tears again and you run to her, catching her before she falls to the ground. The surroundings transform, the house grounds giving way to a battlefield littered with bodies.

"Hey, you're okay." You say breathlessly, one hand pressing on the wound and the other on her cheek, "I got you."

"It hurts, baby." Wanda cried and you nodded frantically, your fingers trembling on her face.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." You sighed tearfully, squeezing harder. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay? Our friends will-" You choked, stopping your mouth from repeating the words you said in that memory. There are no friends anymore. And even on the day of the fight, they were too late. You looked down at your hand at Wanda's wound - your fingers glistened like the day you tried to heal her - but the cut didn't close, just like before.

You sobbed softly, turning your gaze back to her face.

"Wanda, it was supposed to be me." You cried with your hand on her cheek, "I'm so sorry I didn't protect you."

She choked on her own blood, shaking her head, the look in her eyes becoming distant. You hugged her tightly, burying your face in her neck and crying against her skin.

You heard footsteps beside you.

"Very touching." It was Chthon's voice - cold and low - but you didn't let go of Wanda even though she stopped crying. "Tell me, was it worst to lose her in a fight or to kill her yourself?"

You just sob, squeezing her harder. Chthon laughs, raising a hand in the air.

"Shall we take a look?" He asks, and you grunt.

"Enough." That's what you warn and use all your strength - and the stone's - to resist, hearing a loud whistle in your ear.

–/–

You get up in a jolt - startling the girl and woman next to you who let out surprised exclamations - but you are busy with one hand on your chest trying to normalize your breathing.

"Y/N, hey, it's me, you're safe." America says placing her hands on your shoulders and trying to bring you back to reality. You sob and she hesitates, never having seen you like that. But she hugs you anyway, and you can only cry harder.

Wanda watches the scene with a squeeze in her heart. She swallows dryly at the sight of your condition, twisting her fingers unsure whether to interfere or not. She feels so tired and confused right now.

But she doesn't have to think too hard, because you take a deep breath to stop crying and let go of America, wiping your face.

"Sorry, kiddo." You murmur hoarsely.

"No problem." America assures you with a smile. "What happened?"

You clamp a hand over your eyes for a moment. "It was just a really bad dream." You say and somehow, Wanda is sure it wasn't just that. America seems to believe you and gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder. You finally realize your surroundings and assume a worried expression. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, I blacked out, didn't I? What happened? How are you, you didn't get hurt right? Where are we...?"

America interrupted your babbling with a short laugh.

"Relax, we're fine. For now at least." She said sitting down in the chair next to your bed. "You blacked out yes, for a few hours. We're in some kind of apocalyptic world, and a huntress found us. Which turned out to be a good thing because I wasn't going to be able to carry you and Wanda around by myself, and you told me not to use portals and..."

It was your turn to interrupt America with a smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did well, kiddo, I'm proud. You took care of everything."

The girl smiled wryly, and Wanda would have smiled at the interaction if you hadn't met her gaze and she flinched at the seriousness. She swallowed dryly but lifted her chin.

"And you Wanda, how did you behave while I was asleep?"

She rolled her eyes, and America answered before she could. "She's without magic. And she's pretty pissed about it. But she helped me negotiate with the Huntress and got us food, so I think we're doing okay."

You give Wanda a small smile, "Good to know." You tell her, and she sighs impatiently, getting up.

"Don't give me those proud puppy eyes, I'm so mad at you." Starts the witch seriously, moving closer. "I don't know how you did it, but I want my magic back."

You give her a corner chuckle. "Come on, you have to admit it's a refreshing feeling, no? Do you still remember what it was like to not feel your powers?" You try but Wanda doesn't smile, and you grumble in pain as she lifts her hand to your face, and pulls off at once a bandage you hadn't even realized you were wearing.

"It looks better." She tells America, checking your cut. "See if you can find some alcohol in those drawers."

America nods and turns around, stepping away to obey the request. Wanda places herself between your legs.

"Take off your shirt." She says and you raise a brow at her, glancing quickly at America in the corner.

"Wanda, there are children in the room." You joke and she rolls her eyes, sighing in impatience, and getting a chuckle from you. "Alright, Alright." You say moving your hands to pull the shirt off.

They have removed the top of the robe that Kamar-Taj offered you, probably to clean your wounds. It is only upon removing the t-shirt that you realize how sore you really are, and have the impression that the bruises are bleeding.

Wanda leans in to look and sighs. "They won't heal." She grumbles with some frustration, and you feel your face heat up because her cleavage is so close to your face, and she traces various points on your back with her fingers. It must be a good thing that she doesn't have the powers to read your thoughts right now.

America returns with a bottle of alcohol, and Wanda thanks her for the item with a small smile.

"Keep an eye on the door, and call me if the huntress comes back. I don't trust her." Wanda says, and America gives you a reassuring smile before leaving the room that has a curtain type as a door. "Turn around, I'm going to change the bandages."

"So bossy." You tease low, pleased to see that Wanda is trying to hide a smile. You stand sideways on the bed, and she sits behind you.

It's not exactly gentle, but it's not like you can blame her. The alcohol burns badly, and Wanda sighs impatiently when you pull away for the tenth time.

"Stop moving, it'll hurt more." She complains, and you grunt softly, holding the sheets tightly.

"It's fucking painful."

"If you hadn't put us inside a glass box this wouldn't have happened." She recalls and you let out a short laugh.

"Mirror dimension. " You correct her only to annoy her, and Wanda squeezes the cotton with a certain amount of force making you flinch with a soft groan.

"And if you hadn't taken my magic I could heal you in seconds." She reasons ignoring your last sentence, and you let out a half breathless laugh again.

"You know why I had to do that." You say and Wanda swallows dryly, her touch hesitating on your back. She is silent for a long moment, the sound of cotton and your breathing being the only ones in the room. Until, almost hesitantly, she says:

"I'm just trying to have my children back." It is your turn to swallow dry, and Wanda takes advantage of your silence to add, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I know." You say without hesitation and feel her touch grow gentler. "But you will if I don't help you."

"I don't need help, Y/N. I just need-"

"Tommy and Billy." You interrupt by pulling away from her touch to straighten up on the bed and look at her. "Wanda, you see them, don't you? In your head."

"You know I do." She says looking at you, her fingers pulling at a few pieces of the cotton. "Every night, I dream about a life where we are happy. I know you think the book is poisoning me, but the darkhold taught me how I can get everything that was taken from me back."

You swallow dryly, bringing one of your hands to hers. "The price of using Darkhold is the corruption of your mind completely. The author of the book is the God of Chaos, the father of your magical nature, banished from Earth by the ancient gods. This is a lot to take in in one conversation, but you need to know that Chthon has no intention of giving you your children. All he wants is for you to break the Multiverse for him." You state earnestly. "If Chaos reigns, he will have the power to be in this dimension. And he will play with your head until he gets what he wants."

Wanda sighs, pulling away from your touch and standing up.

"That's a fairy tale, Y/N." She comments, twiddling her fingers nervously, but you don't flinch.

"Wanda, we can move things with our minds. " You argue, offering her a small smile. "I know this whole business of gods and dimensions we can't see seems too far from reality, but at this point, everything we have done..."

"It was impossible enough." She completes, holding up her forearm and looking at you uncertainly. "Y/N, I just want my children back."

You sigh softly. It won't work like that. Wanda was under the influence of the book for a year; she's not going to give up on a conversation. In fact, you hope that her mind will cling to this hope until it can no longer. So you offer her a short smile.

"I know dear, we will...we will find a solution." You say swallowing dryly, and Wanda nods with eyes filled with tears.

"I found a solution." She informs you getting strangely euphoric. "That's why I was after the girl. Her power can take me to a world where I have my children."

You frown softly. "Wanda..."

"And if you want, you could stay with me too." She interrupts by moving closer, and your breath hitches as Wanda finds a place on your lap, each leg on one side and her hands on your cheeks. The look of hope in her eyes breaks your heart. "We could be a family. Me, you, and the boys."

"And America?"

Wanda hesitates but forces a smile. You choke softly when she thrusts her hips against yours, a delicious friction that almost makes you lose track of your thoughts. "She's not your daughter, Y/N."

"I know, but she needs a home..."

"I need her power." Wanda confesses, and you blink in confusion. She lets her hands caress your shoulders, and her lips brush your jaw, making a path of gentle kisses to your ear, but you tense up. "I need to be assured that if the kids get sick, I would have a way to help them. The cure for all diseases is in the multiverse." She explains in a whisper, not meeting your eyes, and when she tries to push against your hips again, you hold her by the waist.

Wanda pulls her face away to look at you, and your hands find her cheeks. You lick your lips before you speak, trying to find the right words. "And what happens if they die, Wanda?" You question, and she chokes in shock. Her urge is to run away from your gaze, but you firm the grip on her cheeks. "Are you going to replace them like toys?"

Wanda grunts angrily, resisting your grip, and even though you release her face, you hold her in your lap. "I don't need you to be cruel to me. Chthon has been enough." She retorts and you sigh.

"Don't compare us." You say serenely. "Unlike him, I won't lie to you."

Wanda lets out a humorless laugh and looks at you again, her eyes filled with tears. "All you do is lie." She accuses causing you to frown in confusion. "You lied when you said you were coming back to me, and you keep lying to yourself now. America is not your daughter, and you don't think her mothers are alive. Yeah, I'm still a telepath, detka." She warns to your shocked expression. "And more importantly, I'm not your wife. You're not going to use me as a substitute, I don't want to be a replacement-"

"Wanda, don't say that!" You interrupt with tear-filled eyes, but Wanda struggles to push your hands away, looking like she wants to cry as you do. "Please don't listen to those voices in your head. Listen to me!"

"Let me go!" She retorts trying to push your shoulders, and sobs, causing you to despair at her reaction. "Let. Me. Go" She repeats, punctuating each word with pushes of her closed fists against your shoulders, but you don't let go, wrapping your arms around her and hugging her tightly.

"I'm so sorry." You ask trying to calm her down, Wanda fights a tightness for a moment, before sobbing and burying her face in your neck. Your hands caress her back.

"Please make it stop." She begs weakly against your collarbone, and you are not sure if she is talking about the voices or the pain. Either way, you don't stop your caresses and nod.

"I will." You assure her in a whisper. "I will make it stop."

Wanda tightens her arms around you, crying softly against your skin for long minutes. When she calms down, she wipes her eyes with the hem of her blouse and averts her gaze, her head down.

"I'm sorry." She asks almost embarrassed, and before you can say it's okay, she sighs deeply, running her hand over her face, and assuming a more defensive posture, the Scarlet Witch facade returning to her expression. "That was dramatic."

You smile anyway, bringing your hands to her cheeks and causing her breathing to hitch softly. "Hold still."

She frowns in confusion, but when your eyes sparkle and she feels the electric wires, she looks at you with curiosity.

"What are you up to, detka?" She asks, making you nervous when she looks so blatantly between your eyes and your mouth.

"Just making sure your nightmares will stop." You tell her in a slightly husky voice, being able to feel a growing pressure behind your head. Wanda laughs mischievously, adjusting herself in your lap.

"My knight in shining armor, aren't you?" She says between mockery and playfulness, licking her lips and moving close enough for you to almost lose concentration. You clear your throat, your face warming.

"I need focus." You tell her, avoiding the green irises that make your stomach flip. Wanda giggles again.

"What, do I distract you?" she teases with an innocent expression, her hands resting on your stomach as she leans toward you until her lips brush yours and you let out a shaky breath, losing focus on the magic completely. With that, Wanda feels a gentle twinge, like a burn, but nothing that really hurts. Still, she lets out a soft exclamation. "Ouch."

"S-sorry." You murmur affectedly, your brain foggy with arousal, the proximity of her mouth and the way she is looking at you now taking any coherent thought from your mind.

"Kiss me to make it better." She asks in a whisper and you are immediately nodding, moving forward against her.

When your lips touch, someone clears their throat behind, and you pull your face away with an unsatisfied grunt, your eyes still closed for a second as you try to push away all the tension at once.

"No making out in my bed, travelers." Says the woman you don't know from the doorway. America, next to her, is holding back a giggle at having just walked into this. Wanda lets out a frustrated sigh but gets off your lap very quickly.

You don't have time to complain about the lack of heat, because that Huntress is removing her mask, and you gasp in surprise.

"Natasha?" You exclaim, and she frowns.

"Do I know you?" She asks casually, working on her own costume that looks very much like something a soldier would wear. Before you can answer, she lets out a soft exclamation. "Oh, let me guess, you were a Red Room fan before the Emersion? It's been a long time since I've met someone from before."

"I..." You stammer confusedly, but Wanda clears her throat, shaking her head slightly as if telling you not to say anything. "Yeah, I was a fan of the R-red Room." The lie almost burns your throat, but you keep your expression neutral, and Nat seems to believe it.

"Well, you must be hungry. Lucky for you, I got enough rations for all of us." She says, moving to open the bag she brought in the center of the room. Inside, there were several packages of what looked like astronaut food, and it didn't look the least bit appetizing to you. "Eat up before we leave."

Wanda steps forward. "Where to?"

"I've been here 12 days now, and the sentries take shifts every 15. I never take any chances, and I always leave the hiding places earlier." She explains moving her hands to her holster, intending to place the weapons on the table behind her. "I'm sorry about your injuries, golden eyes, but if you can't walk, I'm leaving you behind."

You swallow dryly at the coldness, but Wanda crosses her arms.

"Where to, Natasha?" She repeats the question, and the redhead sighs lightly, taking her eyes from Wanda to a small electronic device she pulls out of her pocket.

"I have a pickup down south, it's about a three-mile walk."

"Fantastic." America mumbles wryly, and Nat gives a chuckle.

"The sooner we leave, the better." Retorts the older redhead. "Night is even darker beyond the ruins."

You exchange a confused look with America, but she shrugs, seeming not to have asked much about it. She wastes no time in getting one of the feed packages, and you let out a sigh as you realize you would have no choice but that food.

"Hey, golden eyes." Natasha draws your attention back, and you are surprised at the mischief you find in her gaze. "I'm not complaining about the view, but you must be cold." She pulls out of one of the closets a sweatshirt and tosses it for you to pick up. You blush more in surprise than anything at the flirtatious tone, and half-heartedly thank her, especially since she gives you a smile full of second thoughts.

Wanda can't help but grimace at the scene. You are too busy with your sweatshirt to notice that she almost destroyed the seal on the feed package by putting more force than necessary when opening it.

–//–

You had been walking for a little more than twenty-five minutes.

This world was kind of scary. It was Earth, obviously, but it didn't look like anything you knew. It was a desert of sand and rocks, with no nearby cities. Also, there were craters almost everywhere, and gravity did not seem to be in balance at all. There were rocks of various sizes scattered in the sky, and holes in the ground that Natasha called a vacuum, and warned you all to keep your distance. It was late morning, but the sky was completely orange as if the sun had exploded around.

Only when you left the room did you realize that you had been in a tent the whole time. It was very technological, and once you were outside, Natasha pressed something on her electronic device, and the tent was dismantled to the size of a playing card, which she put on her belt.

Nat put on her mask again and said she had jackets in case you got cold. Your back was hurting a little, but America offered support so many times that eventually you slipped one of your arms across her shoulders and put more weight than necessary just to make her laugh.

"This place is so scary." Commented the girl a moment later, looking around, and instinctively getting closer to you. You blinked away from the silhouette of Wanda - who was walking beside Natasha, looking very suspicious of where she was being led - and looked at America. "Are you sure we can't open a portal to a nicer world?"

You scratched your head. "I mean, maybe..."

But Wanda looked back at the same time, a warning look at you both. You made a confused expression, but America sighed as Wanda drew a question to Nat.

"What was that?" You asked.

"Wanda said you can't travel." America clarified. "Your bruises, Y/N. They are not healing, she said they are magical. And she doesn't know what can happen if you cross over to another universe. They can open wider, and you took her magic away so she would have no way to stop the bleeding and you would die of hemorrhage and-"

"Jesus, she made it very explicit." You cut in by putting an arm around America's shoulders again. "Relax, kiddo. I'll be fine, it's just a few scratches."

"Magic scratches that won't heal." Corrected the girl making you laugh lightly.

"They'll heal, it'll just take a little longer." You say relaxed. "Hey, I just remembered! You disobeyed me!" You say with false seriousness, and Chavez shudders a little.

"Sorry." She grumbles, but exclaims, "You can't blame me for that, though!"

"I can't, eh?" You ask raising an eyebrow. America shakes her head.

"Not really! I told you I didn't trust Strange, and you told me to wait with him of all people! When we were alone, he kept asking these weird questions about nightmares and the monsters and I freaked out. I went running to you, and you were getting your ass kicked by your girlfriend." Justified the girl and you grimaced at the last part. "By the way, of all the Wandas we met, you had to pick the evil witch?"

You sigh, shifting your gaze forward. Wanda has definitely heard the nickname, by the way, she cringes a little.

"She's my favorite." You say sincerely, surprising even yourself with how true it felt in your heart. Wanda looks at you out of the corner of her eye very quickly, a shy smile she tries to hide. You clear your throat, turning your attention back to America. "We have rules, Chavez. You don't disobey me. It's for your safety, we've had this conversation."

She sighs, but nods. "I know, I'm sorry. I just panicked, and seeing you almost die didn't help anything."

You grunt softly. "Please, I was winning."

America laughed. "She kicked your ass." You reminded the girl, and when you rolled your eyes, she added to torment you, " You only won when I interfered."

You begrudgingly laughed, pushing her gently and managing to make her laugh too. But the laughter died when Nat stopped walking suddenly, one hand in her holster.

"Everyone be quiet." She warned in a whisper, static as the three of you tensed at the sudden change.

Suddenly, you heard sirens in the distance, and Natasha grunted in irritation, drawing her weapons at the same speed you protected America with your body, and Wanda did the same to you. "Seek cover. NOW!" Natasha shouted, and you were moving to the rocks closer at high speed.

You grunted in pain as you sat down hard on the ground, the bruises on your back burning. Wanda looked at you with concern, checking to see if you were all right, before looking over to where Natasha was.

America was also peeking out from your right side, but you had your back to the rock, trying to push away the pressure in your eyes.

Cheap trick guardian. You heard Chthon in your head.

Fair enough. I'm going to play with you again.

"Man, I can't believe we ended up in the killer robot universe." America commented beside you and you tried to come back to reality, taking a calming breath. Wanda frowned as she watched the scene.

"The name is Ultron." She said. "Y/N, the sentinels are Tony's iron legion, but the symbol is not the Avengers. Y/N?"

"Sounds awesome." You muttered breathlessly, and before Wanda could check you, she saw Natasha lower her weapons, and point at the rock, a small smile on her face.

"Shit." She grumbled and ducked just as one of the Sentinels raised his weapon.

The rock vibrated with the rain of gunfire, and Wanda and America cowered beside it for cover.

"This would be a great time to give me back my magic!" Wanda exclaimed loudly.

The sentries began to beep, and warned together in a mechanical voice. "Magical Creatures are forbidden since the Emersion. Surrender to the Council of Ultron Immediately."

You gasped helplessly, each hand finding one of the girls at your side. "Chavez, pick a cool universe."

"B-but Y/N, you're hurt-"

"Pick one with a health care plan." You joked but Wanda grunted impatiently.

"Do it before they kill us!" She shouted and you closed your eyes as you felt your body fall through the portal.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #Rulers of The Multiverse

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final-girl96 · 1 year

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My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Seventeen

August 1997

Windsor College was a breath of fresh air. I was twenty-four thousand miles away from Woodsbor. Sidney, and Randy were here as well. Sidney was going for performance Arts and Randy was in film. I was here for music. It was a great school to attend when you wanted to be in that kind of industry. Sidney wanted to be an actress, which checks out. She was in drama all through high school. Randy isn't a big surprise either. He'd make a killer director.

I somehow got lucky enough not to have to share a dorm room. Sidney was on the floor below me and had a roommate, Hallie. She was pretty cool. She didn't really know who we were, which is nice and she's a psychology major. Randy was across campus which kind of sucked. We got here about a week ago. I had everything set up the way I wanted and was just making a few small changes and adding a few things. My window looked out to the back of the college. There were woods in the distance.

That's what I was doing now, looking out the window. I still look for Stu everywhere I go. Next month will be two years since mom has been gone and a year since the whole Woodsboro Massacre as the media likes to call it. Sidney and I have been asked to tell our story by several talk shows, magazines, you name it. We've both said no over and over again. We did do a couple interviews seeing as fucking Gale wrote a damn book about it. And now there is talk about a movie being made about our fucking lives.

It was dark out. I could see people walking around heading to parties. That's one thing I didn't want to go to. The last party I was at, my boyfriend and my sister's boyfriend tried to kill me. There were times when I thought I saw him in a crowd of people. I know it sounds like I'm going insane but I swear he's watching me. Just like I know he was in that attic when I went to pick up my stuff. I mean there was no way he wasn't. Leslie came in just as I was about to open the door and then she told me about the letter. That means his parents are helping him hide.

I turned around and grabbed my clothes, towel, and shower basket then headed out the door to the showers. It was around nine so everyone was out at the parties around campus. Somehow Hallie had talked Sindye into going to one of the Sorority parties. Hallie had her mind set on pledging to one as soon as she was able to and wanted to check them all out before picking. I down right refused to go with them. Nothing Hallie could say could convince me to go.

After I was finished with my shower I went back to my room, put my clothes in the hamper, and put my shower basket away. I was brushing my hair with my back to the corner by the door. I stopped brushing my hair when I felt a cold chill run down my spin. The hair on my arms stood and something inside me was screaming at me. Telling me there was something wrong.

Then a sudden warmth surrounded me and someone was whispering in my ear. "Miss me, baby?" My whole body stiffened and my stomach flipped. I felt like I was going to be sick. My brain was screaming at me to run but I couldn't move. "You never learn do you? You couldn't remember to lock your window and now you can't remember to lock your door. What am.i going to do with you? Hmm?" As soon as I felt his lip touch my neck I threw myself across the room.

"Don't come near me!" I yelled, pointing my finger at him. He held his hands up, "whoa. Hey, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He slowly walked towards me and I moved around him towards the door. "Come on, babe. I just want to talk." I shook my head and reached behind me, wrapped my hand around the door knob and turned it. As soon as it was open I bolted out the door and down the hall. "I like the chase!"

I ran down the stairs and pushed through the doors that led outside. There was nobody around now. I looked behind me to see Stu coming out of the same doors I just did. I ran across the lawn and towards Randy's dorm. I don't know if he was even in his room or if he went to a party. I looked behind me only to see Stu wasn't following me. I stopped and looked around me, spinning in circles. I screamed when a hand landed on my shoulder and started to push and hit whoever it was.

"Whoa! Whoa, hey, yn! Yn, it's just me!" I stopped fighting and looked up to see Randy. "Hey, it's okay." I launched myself at him and he wrapped his arms around me. "Okay…you're okay. What's going on? You're shaking." I let out a sob and he pulled away holding me at arm's length. "Yn, I need you to tell me what happened," he said. I looked around expecting to see Stu but I didn't or I couldn't. I could feel him watching, I just

couldn't see him.

"I–I um… he…" I was still looking around trying to find Stu. "He…who is he? Who are you looking for? Yn. Yn, who are you talking about?" I looked at Randy and shook my head. "No one. I just thought I saw um… I thought I saw Stu." I couldn’t look at him anymore. I didn't want to see the pity or the look people give when they think you lost your mind. "Nevermind. I'm sorry."

Randy shook his head and pulled me into a hug. "It's fine. I get it. It's been rough on you, and he's still out there somewhere, but honestly, yn… I don't think Stu would be stupid enough to come back." I nodded my head and pulled away. "Um…what're you doing out so late?" I asked. He shrugged, "I was going to go to the party but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was heading back to my dorm." I let out a small laugh. "Well, do you want to come to my dorm? We can like… watch a movie or something." He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and nodded. "Sure. But I'm picking the movie."

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multimilfs · 1 year

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Chessy x Fem!Reader: Operation 'Chunky Man'

Summary: Chessy + 150 — “Stop distracting me.”

Prompts found here!

A/N: This was really fun. My favorite thing about Chessy is just how much she means to the Parker family and how involved she is, so I couldn't write a fic without including Annie and Hallie!! I hope you all enjoy it!

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

“I have eyes on the target. Over.”

“Copy that, Big Bear. Can you make contact? Over.”

“I think I can, Red One. Over.”

“Red Two, are you in position? Over.”

“Red Two is in position. Over.”

“Good. Operation Chunky Man is a go. Big Bear, you are free to make contact with the target. Just keep in contact with the team. Over.”

“Copy that, Red One.”

You shove the mini walkie-talkie into your back pocket and saunter in the back door. Chessy looks up from her place in front of the stove and smiles, Sammy laying at her feet. The smell of chili and cornbread lingers in the air around you.

“Hey, hon. Did you and the girls have a good day?” Chessy asks.

“We did,” You smile, walking around the island to kiss her cheek, “Hal was a lot more interested in fishing than Annie, but they’re both having fun with the walkie-talkies.”

“I’m glad we let them open them early. They seemed pretty out of it.”

“I think it’s weird for them to have both Nick and Liz gone, even if it's only for a weekend. How was your day?”

You see Annie creeping into the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Sammy perks up when he sees her, but you shoo her away when Chessy isn’t looking. She rolls her eyes and backs out of the kitchen again.

Upon waking up this morning, Annie and Hallie had been far too glum for your tastes. To see both girls lacking their usual mischievous nature felt like a punch in the gut. So with a little persuasion, you convinced Chessy to let them open one of the gifts you’d both gotten them.

The set of walkie-talkies had been perfect since you were taking them fishing. Being out in the woods, you always felt better having an alternative method of communication. You had even left one with Chessy for the day to be safe.

“I got a lot done. Sammy here even helped, didn’t you, buddy?” Chessy coos and crouches to scratch the dog all over. He accepts the affection willingly, tail wagging a mile a minute.

With Chessy’s back turned, you eagerly rush Annie into the kitchen. She patters softly over to the stove and ladles a few scoops of chili into the bowl sitting on the counter. You grin and wink at her stealth. Chessy has no idea.

Offering a thumbs up back, she quietly begins to walk out of the kitchen, careful not to let the spoons clatter against the side of the bowl. You’re both impressed and concerned at how spy-like she is. Offhandedly, you wonder if Liz ever had any contact with MI6.

“Hold it right there!” Chessy says and you jump.

Somewhere in the few seconds you’d been distracted, Chessy turned, catching the girl red-handed. Your eyes widen. Annie looks like a deer in headlights, looking between you and Chessy.

“We’ve been compromised, go!” You shout and wrap both of your arms around Chessy’s waist.

Annie takes off through the doors and outside where Hallie waits. You’re grateful she’s running outside; some of the chili sloshes out of the bowl when she’s running down the porch steps.

“Go get her, Sammy.” Chessy instructs. The dog takes off and outside, you can hear Annie squeal as he catches up with her, “And you—stop distracting me.”

Chessy turns in your arms and offers up a glare. Unfortunately for her, you can tell there’s nothing behind it, and that she’s holding back a smile of her own. You kiss her cheek.

“Where’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” You ask.

“The ‘fun in that’ is getting to sleep in our bed instead of on the couch.”

“Come on,” You bat your eyelashes, “You wouldn’t really send your poor, sweet partner to sleep on the cold, hard couch now would you?”

“Oh yes I would, Big Bear.”

Your eyes go wide and you gape at her. Her lips finally pull into a mischievous grin. From the back pocket of her jeans, she fishes out a walkie-talkie of her own. You’d forgotten that you’d left one with her when you and the girls ventured into the woods. She heard everything.

So caught up in keeping her distracted, it had slipped your mind. Her oversized denim shirt had completely obscured where it rested in her back pocket.

Clearly beat at your own game, you hold up your hands in defeat. Chessy shakes her head and steals a kiss, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, but pulling back as soon as you try for something more. You pout at the loss.

She holds the walkie-talkie up to her mouth and presses the button, “Girls, come get cornbread to go with your chili. Over.”

Several beats of crackling silence come down the line. If you listen hard enough, you swear you can hear Annie and Hallie squealing out on the swings in the backyard. They had clearly forgotten the same information you had. Your time at the lake had wiped all of your memories, it seemed.

She doesn’t wait for a response and turns back to the stove, ladling out three more bowls; a separate bowl for one of the twins, one for you, and one for herself. You set to work on grabbing drinks and cutting the cornbread. Placing it all neatly on the table, you smile at Chessy’s nod of approval.

You watch her move around the kitchen and smile wistfully. What a woman. When she comes and sets the bowls down, you catch her waist again, kissing her breathless. It surprises her, though not as much as it used to. Chessy hardly hesitates before melting into you.

The two of you spring apart when Sammy barks outside and comes bounding in the back door. He comes to a stop in front of you and waits. Laughing, you make sure to fill his bowl and set it near his water dish.

Chessy is about to summon the twins again when the walkie-talkie crackles and a non-accented voice comes over the channel, “We’re coming now, Chessy. Over.”

#chessy #chessy x reader #the parent trap 1998 #the parent trap x reader #chessy imagine #the parent trap 1998 x reader #the parent trap imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #dec2022 #multimilfswritings #multimilfsficmas2022

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thenicestthingiveseen · 1 month

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19 & 76 for the ask game 🤍 Hinny (if it is f+f hinny or Gideon + Hallie I would probably scream)

Summer Camp AU + Did They or Didn't They? A Sapphic Hinny story

Hallie and Ginny became best friends five years ago when they were bunked in the same cabin at summer camp. This year is their first year as counselors and it's been great. At the end of every camp season, after all the campers have gone home, the counselors have a bonfire and camp out together in the woods near the cabins.

It's an extremely fun night and Hallie can't remember the last time she felt this free, so you can imagine her surprise when she wakes up in the same sleeping bag as her secret crush, Ginny. Looking down, she can see she's only in her bra and when she moves her foot to touch her leg, she can feel that she's got no trousers on.

Immediately, she tries to replay the night in her head, but most of it gets hazy around her third shot of whiskey. That's when she hears Ginny begin to wake up and she panics. She attempts to get out of the sleeping bag but they're so snug in there that it only serves to jostle Ginny awake for real--

Ginny is not a morning person by any means, especially when she's hungover. Which, she can already tell she is and something keeps moving next to her and she's sure she's going to commit homicide on her tent mate. It's fine though, she tells herself, Hallie will help her hide the body.

"Oi!" Ginny grunts out to get the perpetrator to stop moving.

"Sorry," Hallie murmurs.

That makes Ginny eyes shoot straight open.

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

#hinny #sapphic #ask games #corneliastreet28 #summer camp au #did they or didnt they #modern au #muggle au

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ghostlyviolets33 · 1 year

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What would Violet's daily routine be on the weekend?

Thanks for asking! This is a more in-depth look to what her weekends would be like if she was still alive. But more realistically she'd probably just stay inside and read, or binge watch a tv show.

Her daily routine would go something like this:

Wake up and immediately take a shower.

Pick out her outfit for the day, get dressed and do her makeup. Her outfits would be more casual/comfy on weekends, similar to this outfit she wore in Home Invasion:

After getting ready, she might wander around the house for a little and then go downstairs to eat breakfast.

The rest of the morning she'd have some free time that she'd spend listening to music, scrolling through Tumblr or any other social media, playing with Hallie (their dog), or watching YouTube.

She'd eat lunch, which would probably be something easy like a PB & J, or whatever food Vivien has made.

Now she'd start her homework from the week, and then do any other mildly productive thing she can, even something like rearranging her room, painting her nails, making playlists & burning them onto CDs, or maybe going out to shop or just to walk somewhere. She might visit a thrift store, music store, antique shop or a gas station for a slushie or any other junk-food item that Vivien would not approve of. Also, she might walk to the woods, or around the street to smoke and examine people and the nature.

In the evening, she'd eat dinner with her family and then change into her pajamas.

Before falling asleep she'd probably lay in bed and read, watch a random movie, or just do something on her laptop. I think she wouldn't fall asleep too late, like around 11:00-11:30.

Hope this helps! If you want a part two or a specific morning routine, nightly routine, school day routine, etc., feel free to ask!

#violet harmon #violet harmon style #violet harmon aesthetic #violet harmon headcannons #violet harmon inspired #violet harmon fashion #ahs #ahs murder house #daily routine

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writing-i-cant-sleep · 5 months

Text

My first crush, Hallie Mills.

In third grade I was dorky. Spending my time overturning rocks and hopping in creeks. I never had an affinity for team based sports no matter how my parents marketed them to me.

At the start of the year I was happy to have my best friend, Stephen Highmore, in the same class as me.

He was the sporty one of the two of us, playing tee-ball, soccer, and most importantly, Stephen was the fastest kid in the grade.

Stephen’s house was surrounded by forest and became the destination for almost all of our adventures. Stephen was an only child with a divorced mother who was always at work. He lived in a nicely sized house along with his grandparents who, after retiring from their position of lawyer and professor, spent their days sitting in the study reading old law books. Every few weeks Stephen’s eccentric artist of an uncle would take up residence in his basement studio and hole away working on meaningless projects. Given that Stephen’s father moved to Vermont after the divorce he was not around at all.

As you can see, Stephen’s house was a kingdom of no supervision.

One summer Stephen discovered his uncle’s hidden studio-stash of illicit items. Being the unruly boys we so often were, the stash of contraband became our main source of entertainment for years to come. Ignoring the cartons of cigarettes, oddly scented vase, and half finished bottles of various liquors, we found the most usefulness in the colorful array of lighters. After strategically stealing two of the Bic lighters, we would fill our pockets with action figures and walk into the woods in Stephen's backyard. For hours we would watch the plastic figures burn into nothing more than a bulbous puddle of carcinogens.

Still I wonder what has had more effect on my health between the cowboy killer cigarettes I smoke or the black stringy plastic smoke I inhaled throughout the years of our friendship.

Stephen’s mother, Heather, was a lovely caring woman. she would never hesitate in giving me a ride to my dreaded sports practices or letting me spend the night at their house. On special occasions Heather would load Stephen and I into her Subaru Outback that was coated in dog hair. We would drive to a diner to meet her “friend”, who later Heather revealed, through a post on facebook, was her partner. Our drive would continue deep into New Jersey to a farm she worked at. Stephen and I would spend our days as any boys with few rules would, catching frogs, subjecting ant hills to nuclear levels of devastation, and playing with the horse whips we would sneak from the barn. My days during this time were care free and simple. No concepts of money, the future, or women clouded my innocent view of the world.

Of course, this all changed when Hallie Mills was put into Stephen and my 3rd grade class. Hallie was a pigtailed, olive skinned, athletic girl who’s hand worked on a spring mechanism when the teacher asked questions in class. It was love at first sight, or, the equivalent for a third grader who still assumed babies were left for families on doorsteps. Without the faintest idea of how to garner the attention of this sweet girl I had heart eyes for, I relied on the age old technique of throwing wood chips and running away. The results were lackluster to say the least.

One icy winter Saturday after Stephen and I had been sledding on the hill in his front yard, Stephen taught me a secret of the world which firmly embedded itself into my developing brain, pornography. Still damp from melted snow with rosy wind burned cheeks, Stephen took me into his mothers office and signed himself in as a guest on her desktop.

“Wanna see something?”

The proposition was seemingly normal, but the feverish grin that took over his face told a more devient tale.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip on Heather Highmore’s office chair we explored the filth that hid in plain sight on the internet.

‘MILF takes HUGE cock’

‘Interracial BLOWJOB’

‘ANAL ADVENTURE’

‘Amature GANGBANG’

In an attempt to seem cool I acted as though these titles were old news to me. To Stephen, I had a long history with internet porn. In reality, my perception of women and brain chemistry changed forever at this exact moment, for the worse. As we watched in silent awe my mouth watered and blood pressure hit critical rates.

As soon as I started feeling the new sensation of tightness in my underpants, Heather came home.

Stephen then taught me another vitally important lesson in 5 quick steps…

how to clear a computer’s search history.

In an attempt to act normal, we donned our snow gear. Still sopping wet from our sledding expedition, we stepped into the cold, snowy, pornless wooded area behind Stephen’s house. Uncomfortable speechlessness fell onto us like a bookshelf onto the curious baby of negligent parents.

With the surrounding world dampened by the lush snow, our trudging foot steps crunched intrepidly into our eardrums.

I was picturing frames from the videos we had watched. More likely than not, Stephen was doing the same.

We walked in imaginative silence for a while until plopping ourselves down in a snowless divet in the ground, formed and sheltered by the roots of a fallen oak.

Stephen broke the silence.

“Have you ever jacked off?”

I answered the question with quizzical eyebrow movements.

Stephen continued “It’s when you watch porn and rub your… you know.” he sealed the statement with a suggestive hand wave.

“Oh. I haven’t.” I said, feeling my ears heat up to the point I thought it would bring upon an early spring.

Stephen and I were still best friends with no care in the world.

In fact, this instant of sitting quietly in the frozen dirt, our heads swimming with smut, would be the closest we had ever been and sadly the closest we would ever be.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I have a crush on Hallie Mills. Do you remember her? The girl in our class?” Stephen kept a locked gaze on his snow covered boots.

The realization of what Stephen had said hit my gut with the speed and precision of a peregrine falcon striking a pigeon out of the air. Of course I knew who she was, I was absolutely in love with her, or at least as in love with her as a third grader who just discovered sex could be.

My stomach pushed itself forcefully into the back of my throat, almost cutting off my ability to breathe, a feeling familiar to me now, jealousy.

I managed to swallow my digestive tract back into its rightful location.

I tried to say something as anger and sadness fought for their place in the forefront of my next words, both became tired and plaintive. Self-pity took the helm.

“So do I.”

The words slid off of my tongue and were seemingly frozen by the cold air, hanging motionless between my mouth and Stephen’s ears. A second passed, my words thawed, another second passed, and Stephen spoke the final nails into our friendship's coffin.

“You know she likes me right? You aren’t sporty enough for Hallie, and your haircut is stupid.”

My head spun for the next two days.

I couldn’t argue with Stephen that my haircut was stupid. I had skipped out on actual haircuts for the last couple of years, letting my brown hair grow long, only occasionally I’d have my mother’s hair stylist thin out the mass of thick hair and shorten my bangs to keep hair out of my eyes. My odd haircut routine led to something that resembled a mullet with less appeal, more awkward cowlicks, and a worse shape. My hair swallowed my neck, nearly perfectly matching the width of my shoulders giving my skinny frame the appearance of explorative plants growing from a hanging pot, my lanky legs mimicking the spindly vines searching for support. It didn't help that I almost exclusively wore very skinny jeans that were ripped at the knee.

I thought they made me look like a cool skater kid. Sadly, they only reinforced the fragile plant look as the ripped threads mimicked desperate roots in arid waterless ground.

I walked with an air of timidness as though everyone and everything was out to get me. My self esteem was nonexistent at such an early age, pushing me deeper and deeper into a shell of shelf hatred. The only reason one would consider me an ‘old soul’ or ‘ahead of my years’ would be because at only 9 years old, I had the self hate and angst of a 17 year old who just discovered the smiths.

Stephen, Hallie, and I still had class together for the remainder of the year. Stephen and I still considered one another friends, but the friendship was strained by the love triangle. We fought over Hallie endlessly. Our time hanging out was no longer filled with boyish exploration, but instead discussion of who will make the next move. Not only did Hallie definitively like Stephen back. She made it very clear, with messages passed by her friends, that she did not like me at all and found me quite unattractive.

Those whispered words from the girls have never left my ears, no matter who I become they will be with me.

Every month my teacher, Mrs. Langine, would reassign the seating arrangements in class as a way for everyone to get to know one another. Seating was announced like an NBA draft, when your name got called you would go and sit in the chair closest to where the teacher was standing. This was your new seat. The second to last switch was where my active pursuit for Hallie’s heart turned into me wallowing in puddles of dejection.

Mrs. Langine began to call out names one by one.

“Rebecca.”

She takes a step to the right, “Matt.”

Another step, “Hallie.”

My heart skipped a beat, if my name was called I would finally have a chance to get to show Hallie that I wasn’t the ugly weird kid she so vocally saw me as. My eyes were pinpoint focussed on Mrs. Langine's lips. My ears waited anticipatedly for my name to be called. In a second of over confidence, I picked up my backpack as preparation to take my rightful seat next to my love.

“Stephen.”

Mrs. Langine threw his name out there with an overly casual nature. It was as if she didn’t care at all of the destruction she caused to my naive heart.

Stephen took his seat and smirked in my direction.

My young brain flitted through emotions and phrases trying to pin down the best one to fit this exact moment. “Dang you” my brain thought, the third grade equivalent of a slur, the worst word I knew.

“Dang you.”

The school year went on.

I made other friends while ignoring the ‘relationship’ Stephen and Hallie had gotten into. I also made a huge effort to ignore their mean remarks about how skinny jeans are “for girls”, but it didn't work. I often cried to my mother about what they had said.

I was self conscious about myself to the point I wasn’t able to make a change. This is where jealousy first planted itself in my head and my inner voice picked up the habit of putting me down.

No matter how much I hated my stupid hair my inner monologue would remind me,

Getting a haircut will look even more stupid and everyone will judge you.

My skinny jeans were tattered and I despised them, but I’d be in my head,

What? Wear shorts? Then your skinny legs will be more visible, you’re a joke.

Even the thought of a girl crushing on me was shut down,

You are unwanted and weird. People are uncomfortable looking at you, let alone have a crush.

That little voice got really good at making me feel like shit, it was as if it knew exactly what I was thinking.

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fillyoursoulxx · 5 months

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closed starter for @dreamgrlevl ft hallie

"It's you," Living this deeply into the woods, it was rare for him to have visitors. Let alone recurring ones. So when he heard a knock, he'd been surprised. But upon opening it, he was stunned. Roman managed to hold composure, his voice calm, despite her scent flooding his senses and the images of the last time tugging to the forefront of his mind. "What are you doing here?"

#::|| roman #romanhallie002 #dreamgrlevl

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 2 years

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BFCD Black Women in Horror/Monsters & More Masterlist

Black Women in Horror | Final Girls | Slayers | BFCD Monsters & More Masterlists

Izzy Bit |

Old Woman Josie Welcome to Nightvale | Olivia Two Sentence Horror Stories: Teeth

Queenie American Horror Story

Wilhamena Mettle OK Let’s Be Heroes |

Yvonne A Nightmare on Elm Street Series |

Zafrina Twilight | Zoe Head Count |

Children in Horror | BFCD Family Friendly Spooky Season |

*List will be updated throughout October*

#Black Women in Horror #Children in Horror #long post #BFCD Spooky Season #October #BFCD Masterlist #BFCD Black Women in Horror Masterlist #black female characters #monster girls #slayers

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