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Can I have a request for a wally darling x reader where the reader "captures" wally as the villain of the show and has a bit of a dom kink? This is for playfellowxxx and I am 18 years old. Is this ok to request?

You’re mine

Wally Darling x Fem!Villain!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Word count: 3,312 Reading time: ~12 mins

Part 1, Part 2

TW: None

A/N: Honestly this was the first proper request I've gotten and I got really excited to write it! I hope you like it anon! Also, the reader is approximately 6ft tall, just so everyone knows :) Also, I'm really sorry this took so long to put out, have had a lot of stuff going on in my personal life.

Wally awakens, dizzy and almost completely disorientated – just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean he can’t be knocked out. The world around him seems to spin for a moment as he attempts to orient himself in the darkness. He tries to move his limbs yet finds himself almost unable to move, bar lightly wiggling his body. Soon, Wally comes to realise that his hands are bound behind his back, to the back of a chair. His legs are also bound, rope wrapped around his ankles to hold them together and to hold them to the chair as well.

The room is dark, murky, almost pitch black if it weren’t for the small beam of light piercing through the side of a blind and streaming into the room. It’s just enough to let Wally see what’s happening around him. The room is still around him, not much happening apart from the wind whistling gently through what he can only assume is an open window tucked behind the blind. There are boxes stacked up around the room, pushed to the edges to make way for a desk. The room itself is small, seemingly more of a storage room than anything else.

His concentration on the room is broken when a door opens from somewhere behind him. The sound of the door closing is joined by the clicking of hard bottomed shoes against the wooden floor. He feels fear course through him for a second, jolting him forwards slightly when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“Wally, Darling,” a soft, feminine voice rings out from behind him. Wally already knows exactly who it belongs to. Its full of a sickening joy that causes a pit to open itself up in Wally’s stomach.

“(Y/n),” Wally growls, immediately becoming defensive. The presence of this puppet causes his skin to prickle, making him feel as if his hair is standing on end. “What do you want?” His voice is uncharacteristically sharp and cold, holding a malice that he reserves for when it’s just him and (Y/n).

“Oh, nothing much…” She walks round to his front, crouching down to find herself  eye level with the significantly smaller puppet. Wally stares into her eyes, its one of the few times he’s able to do so. “Just thought you looked especially adorable the other day, couldn’t help but want to snatch you up.” Her voice is playful and flirtatious, it doesn’t match the situation in the slightest.

“You just like causing problems, (Y/n).” Wally can’t help but say her name again, something about it feels good in his mouth, feels like its supposed to sit on his lips.

“Ah, maybe I do, but you love me for it,” She chuckles lightly, standing back up and patting his thigh as she does so. The sudden contact makes him shudder, causing his body to jump – practically pressing himself into her palm. It causes her to freeze, only for a moment, leaning down to stare into Wally’s eyes again.

“Do you like that, Darling?” His last name drips from her lips just like it did before, yet this time it sounds so different. Its sticky and sweet and causes his head to spin slightly.

Wally goes to speak, to say something, but the hand on his thigh halts his voice entirely. He’s not entirely sure why, but he can’t think clearly. The hand on his thigh squeezes lightly, a pressure that causes him to shudder. He wants to lean into it, his mind fogging with something he isn’t quite sue of.

“I need to hear a yes Wally, or I’m going to take my hand away.” Her voice pulls him out of his seeming trance, his head snapping upwards. He stares at her, eyes meeting with a desperation that he didn’t know he could feel.

“Yes,” Wally whispers, pupils blowing wide as he stares.

“Good boy,” She chuckles, voice dripping with that same sticky sweetness from before. Her hand squeezes again, trailing up his thigh and towards his hip. It rests there for a moment before trailing back down to his thigh. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself there”

Wally can’t find it in himself to answer, only staring into (Y/n)’s eyes, vision slightly unfocused. He doesn’t understand why his head is so foggy, but he does know that he wants more of her touch. As a result, he does his best to push his thigh up into her hand.

“Oh, you really do seem to be enjoying yourself,” The smile in her voice is obvious, “I’m going to untie you now, ok? But you have to promise not to try and run.” She seems to have an idea that he can’t think of at all.

Wally just nods, the prospect of being untied doesn’t properly occur in his mind, the idea of escape a million miles away at this very second. He feels her fingers trail down his leg, the other hand joining to untie the rope binding his ankles together. It takes her a few moments of tugging before the rope comes undone, becoming slack and falling to the floor in loose rings. Wally takes a moment to part his legs, stretching them out before returning them to their previous position.

“Good boy, you’re so good for me,” she hums, both hands returning to his thighs, giving them both a squeeze. Her hands are so big, Wally’s sure that she could wrap her hand entirely around his thigh if she wanted to. He wants her to, at least. The words make Wally feel like he’s melting, becoming absolute putty in (Y/n)’s hands.

He melts more when (Y/n) moves behind him, hands coming to his bound wrists and starting to undo them. She’s much softer this time, fingers brushing the bare skin of his wrists as she undoes the ropes. After a few seconds, Wally feels the rope unravel and drop to the floor, yet he doesn’t move. Not even as (Y/n)’s hands begin to trail up his arms, eventually coming to rest on his shoulders, lightly brushing his neck. She stays there for a moment, gently kneading his shoulders, holding him like he’s made of glass. Then, suddenly, her hands are on his face, forcing it backwards so she can stare into his eyes.

“Hi, sweet thing,” she hums, her hands gripping his face rather harshly, forcing him to stay still. She could’ve let go as soon as she tilted his head back, however, Wally wasn’t going to attempt moving. “You look so pretty like this, pupils blown all wide.” She eases up her grip, now stroking his face.

Wally lets out a short sound, something next to a whimper. He can’t tear his eyes away form (Y/n)’s. Her eyes seem to sparkle with something that only serves to draw him in. Like the lore of an anglerfish, he was walking straight into the jaws of danger, yet he couldn’t look away.

(Y/n) tilts his head forwards again, so that she can lean forwards and place her hands on his thighs. They begin to move, one trailing up and under his jumper, under his shirt, splaying across his stomach. Her finger are so warm as they press against Wally’s bare skin. The warmth from her hands bubbled up through his body until it forces a short, soft moan from his lips.

Wally, unable to look into (Y/n)’s eyes from this angle, decides he doesn’t need to keep his eyes open and so let himself relax into the sensations. Eyes fluttering shut, Wally presses himself against her hands, one of his own reaching up to hold onto her bicep. He continues to let out soft moans as (Y/n)’s hands reach up and towards his chest, dancing her fingers delicately across his skin. He finds himself completely unable to focus on anything but the hand on his chest. Until, that is, (Y/n)’s other hand moves to his inner thigh.

It rests rather high up, nearly brushing against his clothed crotch, snapping him out of his earlier fog. The sensation causes Wally to gasp, attempting to buck his hips into her hand without even thinking – its nothing but an involuntary action. He’s desperate for her touch.

(Y/n) chuckles, it’s a sick, sardonic sound that Wally still loves none the less. In fact, he wants to hear it more. More of her voice, more of her. She pulls her hands from his body at the same time, an action that makes him whimper and squirm; but he doesn’t move, he wouldn’t dare.

Footsteps ring out once again as (Y/n) walks round and stops in front of the smaller puppet, crouching down at an attempt to be eye level with him. It doesn’t work, however, as she ends up about chest height, looking up into his blown-out pupils.

“Hey, pretty thing,” She hums, a hand coming up to cup his cheek. “You enjoying yourself?” Everything about her feels like a trap, yet Wally can’t help but lean in. If he gets snatched up and captured, its worth it, as long as it’s her.

“Yes,” Wally murmurs, eyes half lidded as he leans into her palm. He reaches up, one hand coming to rest on top of hers while the other holds her wrist. “Yes… So much…”

“My good boy.” She smirks as she speaks, her voice flirty and now dripping with lust. (Y/n) pulls her hand away as she stands up, and Wally can’t help but reach out for her as she moves away. He’s desperate to have her back against his skin.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m not leaving,” She bends over, now actually being eye level with him, “get up for me, will you doll?”

Wally nods, scrambling to get himself out of the chair. (Y/n) has to take a step back as he hurries to stand so he doesn’t knock his head against hers. As soon as he’s on his feet, Wally is standing as tall as he can in front of her – something drives him to try and impress her.

“Oh baby, relax,” Her voice is sugar coated as she leans in, beginning to unbutton his cardigan. “There’s no need to be so tense.” She pulls his cardigan off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Part of him hopes it landed on the chair he had been sat on, he didn’t want it to get dirty, yet he also didn’t care.

His shirt came off next, being given the same treatment as his cardigan. Wally ignores the sound of it hitting the floor in favour of reaching up to start undoing his ascot. However, he doesn’t get far before (Y/n)’s hands are on his, pulling them away from his neck.

“Oh no you don’t,” she hums, holding his hands to her chest, cupping them near her collar bones, “that looks so cute on you, I want you to keep it on.”

“Ok…” Wally’s voice comes out as delicate whisper. His hands feel so small in hers, so warm and completely encapsulated.

 “Good boy,” She mumbles, dropping his hands and gripping his hips instead and tugging him forwards. Her hands quickly begin work on the button on his trousers, popping it with one hand and using the other to undo the zip. (Y/n) has his trousers on the floor in seconds.

“Actually…” (Y/n) pauses for a second before reaching up, leaving Wally’s painfully hard and still in his boxers. Her hands come back to his ascot and tug at it, pulling it off. The red silk glistens lightly in the soft glow from the sun, laying in her hands.

“Eyes or hands?” She asks, suddenly making eye contact with Wally. He finds himself unable to answer, only able to stare into the perfection that is (Y/n)’s eyes.

“Wally, I’m only going to ask once more. Eyes or hands?” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, brining him back to reality far to fast for his liking.

“Eyes?” Wally mumbles, hesitating a moment before speaking. He’s unsure of what she means, and despite everything that she’d done in the past, he trusts her.

(Y/n) doesn’t answer, only reaching with the ascot in her hands. He isn’t given a chance to react before the red silk is being wrapped round his eyes, obscuring his vision entirely. Wally finds himself deprived of his favourite sense, the one he treasures more than anything else in the world – it should scare him… and yet it doesn’t.

(Y/n)’s hands are back on his hips within seconds of his eyes being covered, this time tugging at the waist band of his boxers. They’re pulled down to around his mid-thigh, freeing his erection and causing him to gasp in both shock and relief. Wally can feel her hands on his thighs, still holding the fabric of his underwear. Although that doesn’t last long, as she tugs them the rest of the way down, leaving them pooled around his ankles much like his trousers.

“Step forwards baby,” She says, holding his hips and guiding him as he takes a step. He’s now completely nude, exposed to her and unable to see anything. His heart is racing yet he wouldn’t change a single thing about what’s going on.

The smaller puppet lets out a yelp as he feels his feet leave the floor. Although he doesn’t flail or worry, as (Y/n)’s hands on his hips hold him steady. He can feel her shifting, but doesn’t know what’s going on until the underneath of his thighs meet her shoulders. He can feel her hair tickling his inner thighs, the wispy strands painting feather soft patterns into the soft, sensitive flesh.

Suddenly, the flat of her tongue is pressing against the underside of his cock. Its warm and wet and has him bucking his hips upwards blindly. He feels (Y/n)’s hands slide up his back, supporting him and holding him against her. Wally leans back into her warm palms for a moment, relaxing just for a second. It is only a second thought, her tongue is back on him, sliding from the base of the shaft to half way up before pulling away and repeating the pattern.

“(Y/n)…” Wally mumbles. This time, its his turn for his voice to drip with lust thick as honey. He reaches down, fingers fumbling to intertwine themself with her hair. Struggling for a moment, Wally finally gets his hands comfortably in her hair, holding the back of her head for support. He defiantly needs it as (Y/n) pulls away, adjusting her head to slip the tip of his cock into her mouth.

Wally bucks his hips forwards, desperate to feel the warmth of her lips around the base of his cock. He partially expects (Y/n) to pull her head away, to scold him for the action – but she doesn’t. Instead, she pushes her head forwards, taking his entire length in one go. It happens so fast that Wally feels himself hit the back of her throat. (Y/n) doesn’t gag.

The warm wetness of her tongue begins to lap at the underside of his cock once more. It’s a sensation that has Wally letting out moans, sounds that bubble up from his chest and spill past his lip. They’re completely uncontrolled sounds, slipping past his lips in the same way foam bubbles out of a soda bottle.

Wally can already feel himself reaching an end. Something about the way she moved, the way she treated him, was driving him towards an edge much faster than he would like to admit. It doesn’t help that he can’t see, that he’s been deprived of his most vital sense.

“(Y/n)-“ he rasps, gripping her hair and tensing his thighs to squish her head slightly. He feels his stomach muscles tense up, causing him to curl forward, around her head.

The taller puppet only hums in response, starting to bob her head. Deliciously slick sounds fill the room. (Y/n)’s hands pressing into Wally’s back to pull him closer, keeping him in place as her tong laves at his shaft. She doesn’t stop her movements or change her pace, continuing to bob her head slightly and swirl her tongue at the pace she had already set.

“I’m- I’m- (Y/n)- I’m-“ Wally can’t splutter out much more than the first word of the sentence that he’s desperately trying to string together. (Y/n)’s pace is driving his towards an edge that he doesn’t want to fall off of – if he does, this ends. Wally is desperate for it not to end.

His hands don’t move from their spot, finding a perfect purchase scrunched up in her hair, holding the back of his head. His hips, however, begin to falter and buck forwards as if they have a mind of their own. Both his body and mind are senselessly chasing pleasure, but only his body wants to reach the finale. And it does.

Wally tenses up fully as he finally reaches his peak, thighs clenching around (Y/n)’s head. His arms pull in tight, hips pushing forwards as he desperately tries to push himself as far down (Y/n)’s throat as possible. He manages to push until he’s hitting the back of her throat, his tip touching the soft warmth in a way that has his whimpering and pleading for more.

The smaller puppet finally spills himself into her mouth, painting her throat white and filling her mouth with a slightly bitter taste. (Y/n) doesn’t recoil though, instead swirling her tongue around his length and continuing to bob her head to the best of her abilities. Wally feels like she’s trying to pull out everything he’s got.

“A-Ah!” he yelps, the sensation suddenly becoming entirely too much. Wally is whimpering, trying to pull away, wordlessly pleading for her to stop.

Eventually, (Y/n) does, pulling away from him and letting him fall from her saliva coated lips. She keeps Wally sat on her shoulders, looking up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes sparkling with mischief in what little light there is in the room.

“Too much baby?~” She purrs, voice still filled with lust.

Wally can only nod, letting out another pathetic sound as he does.

“Oh, you poor thing… Come here,” She mumbles, shifting his position until he’s got his legs wrapped around her waist. Her tone is so much softer now, as is her touch, as she comes to gently cradle his shaking body against hers. She holds him so easily, her much larger hands supporting under his ass and against his back.

“Would you like a bath darling?” (Y/n)’s voice is right next to his ear as she speaks. It’s accompanied by feather light kisses full of love. Her hands are so warm, radiating outwards and into him in a way that almost has him falling asleep where he is. Wally shakes his head. All he wants now is to curl up and sleep.

“Ok then,” she pauses again to kiss the top of his head, something she can do now thanks to his pompadour falling apart, “What about something to eat? Or drink?” Her questions are so gentle, they don’t really need answers.

Wally shakes his head once again, burying his face in (Y/n)’s neck. Her skin is so soft, he can’t help but relax against her. Although that relaxing is interrupted for a moment when (Y/n) pulls the ascot free from his eyes, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Its most likely piles up with the rest of his discarded clothes.

She continues to hold him tight against her body as she walks. Wally is far too drowsy to pay attention to where they’re going. But he takes not of it - a few short steps and a turn to the left.

Suddenly, (Y/n) is shifting the blue haired puppet. He’s sitting in her lap, partially straddling her thighs with his head resting against her chest. (Y/n) in mostly laying down, hands resting on Wally’s back, providing a pleasing weight.

(Y/n) doesn’t say anything as she begins to stroke Wally’s hair, placing many short kisses on top of his head. He can slowly feel his grip on consciousness loosening. He knows he isn’t going to fall asleep, but he’s not going to be awake anymore.

“I’ve got you, baby,” (Y/n) mumbles. It’s the last thing Wally hears before the world slips away from him.

Part 2 of the reader "captures" the wally, where wally's friends break into the reader's house to save wally from the reader's "evil" clutches and find wally sleeping and cuddling the reader.

(I thought this situation would be funny like a comedy)

He's yours?...

Wally Darling x Fem!Villain!Reader

Word count: 2,910 Reading time: ~10 mins

Part 1, Part 2

A/N: I know that I’ve closed requests… But this was such a cute idea and I couldn’t help but write it… damn you anon, coming in here with such cute ideas! I've put this in my Playfellowxxx masterlist on account of the first part being nsfw and how this second part doesn't really make sense without the first - if you think it needs changing, please let me know!

Anyway! Hope you all enjoy!

It’s dawning on the next afternoon before anyone realises Wally is missing. The sun is already high in the sky and Barnaby is heading into the bugdega to get the same thing he gets every day for lunch – the “chilli dog” that can’t really be classified as anything but a crime against food.

“Morning Howdy,” He drawls, the same low rumble he speaks with every time he talks.

“Afternoon, actually,” The caterpillar chuckles, pointing to the town clock with one of his many arms. Barnaby can just about see it through one of the many windows of the bugdega.

“Huh, well then, afternoon Howdy.” It’s just gone twelve, but Howdy had adopted the habit of correcting the dog on his timing after Barnaby had jokingly done it once. It was a little inside joke, both of them rather enjoyed it thought.

“Indeed,” Howdy stops cleaning the counter and finally looks up at the big blue puppy, “ I take you’ve gone here for lunch?”

“You know me all too well,” Barnaby chuckles, walking up and resting his elbows on the freshly wiped counter, leaning his head into his hands.

“I know you’re routine – and I know that you’re going to ask me for that abomination of a hot dog for lunch.”

“Don’t knock it till ya’ try it.”

“I think I’ll stick to salad, thanks.”

“Same response every time.”

Howdy can’t help but let out a light laugh as he turns his back on Barnaby, starting to make the same thing he did every day around noon. They always had the same kind of conversation, the same routine. Day in day out, Howdy could rely on Barnaby to come in and keep him company for a few minutes. He also knew he could, begrudgingly, rely on Wally to ruin the apple display while he tried to look for the “best apple”.

“Go tell your little menace of a best friend to get out of my apples,” Howdy speaks, still with his back to Barnaby. He’s in the process of gathering the sauces he needs when Barnaby speaks up.

“Uh… He’s not in the apple display?” The other puppet sounds rather concerned, like he hadn’t noticed before this that Wally wasn’t present.

“What do you mean he isn’t in the apple display?” Howdy practically whips around, abandoning the half made hot dog in order of scanning the store for the much smaller puppet. Barnaby was right, Wally isn’t in the apple display. Nor has he climbed his way onto the counter to wait for Barnaby to get his hot dog. As far as Howdy is aware, Wally isn’t even in the bugdega.

“Where is he then?” The caterpillar asks, turning back around to finish the hot dog as fast as possible before handing it to Barnaby.

“I assumed he was following me…” Barnaby trails off, brows knitting together as he tries to think back on the day so far.

“You didn’t check?” Howdy sounds exasperated. In truth, he’s panicking, he’s incredibly worried about Wally, but his voice isn’t conveying that.

“I don’t usually have to! He’s never not followed me in here when I come in to get lunch!” Barnaby is starting to look panicked as well, discarding his lunch on the counter in favour of starting to look around the bugdega. If Howdy wasn’t also so worried about the little puppet, he would’ve told Barnaby off for dirtying his counter.

“I’ll keep looking around here, you go check to see if he’s spending time with Julie and Frank.” Howdy’s rushing out from behind the counter, hurrying Barnaby out the door as he speaks. Barnaby doesn’t resist in the slightest, running out to see if he can find Wally elsewhere.

It’s not long before the whole neighbourhood is searching for Wally. Julie and Frank have teamed up to see if Wally has wondered into the woods. Howdy, Barnaby, and Poppy are checking in higher up places, seeing if he somehow managed to get himself stuck. Eddie and Sally are going through everyone’s gardens. Even home is worried, squeaking and banging – while no one can understand what they’re trying to say, everyone can tell that they’re distressed.

After a rather frantic search, the whole neighbourhood – bar Wally, of course – gather in front of home.

“Did anyone find him?” Eddie speaks, coming to stand next to Frank. He hold their hand, stroking his thumb over their knuckles as a way to comfort himself.

“No, couldn’t see him anywhere,” Julie says next, worrying at a strand of her hair, tugging at it lightly.

“Does anyone have any ideas where he could be? Did anyone check Home?” Barnaby seems to be doing the worst, his tail swishing nervously as he continues to look around like he’ll somehow spot Wally.

“I asked, but I don’t think he’s inside,” Sally mumbles, looking towards Home. Home, in response, opens and closes its doors. Even if no one but Wally can understand them, they all pretty clearly understand that not even Home knows where Wally is.

“Has anyone seen (Y/n)  today?” Frank speaks up, taking a moment from comforting Eddie to look around themself.

Their question seems to still the very air as it comes from their mouth. Collectively, everyone seems to stop worrying as they turn their heads towards Franks. No one had seen (Y/n) that day, or the previous one for that matter.

It was particularly strange not to see (Y/n) for more than one day. Much like Barnaby going to the bugdega every day or Eddie always delivering mail at the same time every morning, (Y/n) was always up to something or other. So, for the neighbours not to see her was unusual in itself. For them to not see (Y/n) or Wally was even more unusual. So much so that Barnaby immediately turned on his heel and stormed off, heading straight for her house.

“Barnaby! Hold up! Don’t do anything rash!” Eddie calls after what is now an 8 feet tall ball of rage coated in spotty blue fluff. The mailman is hot on Barnaby’s heels, followed close by Frank and then Julie.

“maybe we should think about this?” Julie calls out from the back of the line, still twirling and tugging at the strands of her hair that frame her face.

“If she’s got Wally we have to get him back. We all know nothing good is happening behind those doors,” Barnaby growls out, his voice deeper and rougher than anyone had heard from him before. The tone causes Eddie to stutter in his steps, nearly tripping as Frank bumps into his back.

“(Y/N)!” Barnaby barks, finally coming to her door and pounding a balled-up fist against the wood. The force behind his knock – it’s really more like a punch – seems to cause the whole house to shudder.

“Barnaby, I really don’t think-“ It’s Frank’s turn to try and reason with the angry hound only to get interrupted.

“OPEN THIS DOOR! THIS IS TOO FAR!” Barnaby continues to thump his fist against the door, yet he doesn’t get an answer. Sure, (Y/n) had caused problems before – snuck into the bugdega to switch out the sauces he normally had on his hotdog, stolen Frank’s butterfly collection, messed with Sally’s plays. But this was too far, entirely too far.

After a few minutes of practically howling through the door accompanied by insistent banging, Barnaby decides that he’s had enough of waiting and takes matters into his own hands; using his size and weight to his advantage, he begins to throw himself against the door with the intention of breaking it down.

“Barnaby! Stop!” Julie calls out, running over to him, trying to grab his arm and pull him away, “We can settle this like adults! I’m sure (Y/n) would be open to talking it out!”

Barnaby pauses, more in fear of hurting his friend if he were to continue his attempts over anything else. He looks down at the much shorter puppet, a flash of remorse in his eyes before he scoops her up and walks over to a tree not too far away and places her in one of the branches. She’ll be able to get down, but she’ll need Eddie or Frank’s help to do so.

“Barnaby!” She calls out, trying to figure out how to get out of the tree as he walks away and back towards (Y/n)’s house.

“Sorry Julie,” He mumbles, walking back to the door and throwing himself against it one more time. Apparently, that last push was all it needed as Barnaby collapses forwards and into the house, landing on top of the now ruined door with a loud huff.

The inside of the house is dimly lit despite it being early afternoon, all the curtains drawn and any like that was too bright turned off. The smell of cinnamon and cooked pastry fills the air, accompanied by soft swing music and what sounds like a soft feminine voice mumbling. If it weren’t for the situation at hand, Barnaby would find it rather relaxing.

The dog climbs back to his feet, taking a moment to brush himself off before storming deeper into the house, following the sound of her soft mumble. He knows he’s going to find (Y/n), he can only hope he finds Wally too. What he does find at the end of his short rampage is completely unexpected.

Wally is laying on (Y/n), head on her chest and arms wrapped as far around her as they can go. There’s a blanket pulled up over the both of them – it’s a fluffy yellow one, a teddy bear blanket. Wally is wearing a light pink shirt that appears to be 4 sizes too big, it also looks like one that Barnaby remembers seeing (Y/n) in. (Y/n) is laying on a sofa, head on the arm rest and holding a book in the air, half reading the words aloud. A record player crackles away softly in the background, playing “I will always love you”. There’s a fresh apple pie on the table, along with a few fresh apples.

“’You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; ‘it’s very rude.’,” (Y/n) mumbles before craning their neck ever so slightly to kiss the top of Wally’s head – an easy feat, as his hair is not in his signature pompadour.

“What the fuck.” Barnaby finds himself unable to move, completely rooted to the floor as he looks at the scene in front of him. It’s so perfectly domestic that, if it weren’t for his friend being kidnapped, he would find it sickeningly sweet.

“Do you mind?” (Y/n) asks, turning her head to stare at Barnaby with a look somewhere between distain and malice, “We we’re perfectly comfortable before you came barging in here.” This time, its her turn to growl as she speaks.

Barnaby looks around, looking for any kind of indication that Wally is being held captive, that he can’t just get up and leave. Yet, no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find any. Wally is just relaxing on (Y/n)’s chest while she stares down Barnaby.

“Barnaby!” Eddie’s voice comes loud from somewhere behind the dog before he bursts into the room. Much like Barnaby, he freezes upon seeing the scene.

“Oh great, you brought the mailman,” Yon grumbles, closing her book and leaning over as much as she can to place it on the coffee table, “is there anyone else? Did you bring the whole neighbourhood?” her voice is snarky as she speaks, obviously annoyed with the interruption.

“(Y/n)? Why have you stopped?” Wally finally speaks up, opening his eyes and shifting to sit up slightly. He seems completely oblivious to the presence of both Barnaby and Eddie while he looks up at (Y/n) with droopy, relaxed eyes.

“Wally?” It’s Eddie’s turn to speak now, as Barnaby is still trying to collect his jaw from its place on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie sounds equal parts confused and outraged, staring at Wally.

“oh… Hello.” Wally sounds like he has just woken up from a nap when he speaks, despite the fact that he doesn’t sleep.

“Can you two leave?” (Y/n) growls, putting her arms around Wally and holding his much smaller body against hers. “He’s obviously not in any danger and I’ll return him soon enough. Get out of my house and please put my door back on it’s hinges as you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Wally,” Barnaby finally manages to find his voice, deciding to walk towards (Y/n).

“He’s a grown man, he can go home when he wants to. Like I said, he’s not in danger, I’m not holding him here against his will, he’s free to leave when he wants. He just doesn’t want to leave.” (Y/n) hugs Wally tighter to her body as Barnaby approaches, refusing to let him take Wally from her.

“I… Maybe we should go,” Eddie mumbles, seemingly nervous now. Any anger he had from before has melted away after seeing Wally in this state, obviously not wanting to leave.

“See? The mailman gets it. Now get out,” (Y/n) continues to growl at them, still holding the sleepy looking Wally against her body.

“I’m not-“ Barnaby tries to step forward, tries to reach out and pull Wally from her grip. Yet he doesn’t succeed; Eddie is holding the arm he was reaching forwards with.

“Barnaby…” Eddie mumbles, looking up at the much smaller puppet with a pleading look, “Wally is his own person… He can come home if he wants to… I think we should go.”

“But- He-“

“Let’s go.” Eddie tugs at Barnaby’s arm, beginning to tug him towards the living room door.

Barnaby doesn’t attempt to fight it, just letting Eddie tug him out of the house. His foot steps are staggering as he’s finally lead out, squinting a little as the sun shines into his eyes. He takes a moment when Eddie lets go of his arm to put the door back in place – it’s not perfect, but it’ll to till (Y/n) gets it fixed.

“What happened?!” Julie shouts, still in the tree that Barnaby had left her in. He can see that Frank is still trying to get her down.

“Wally wants to stay,” Eddie is the one who responds, as Barnaby is still unable to find his words.

“He wants to stay?” Frank stops their attempts to pull Julie from the tree to turn to their husband, a confused look on their face.

“Yep, wanted to stay.” Eddie walks over, reaching up and managing to catch Julie as she shimmies her way out of the branches. He puts her down before turning back to Barnaby.

“Why would he want to stay?”

“I don’t know, he seemed comfortable.”

Barnaby can hear the others ease into soft chatter about the situation as he begins to walk away. He doesn’t really know where he’s going, he’s just heading vaguely towards Home and the rest of the neighbours. He doesn’t know if Eddie, Julie and Frank are following him. He just knows that he saw his best friend curled up on the chest of the town’s biggest nuisance. Although, he doesn’t get far before a familiar pair of hands are on his arm again.

“Hey Barn, are you ok?” It’s Eddie. Ever the sweetheart, he’s desperate to comfort Barnaby to the best of his ability.

Barnaby looks around, waiting for Frank and Julie to approach, waiting to be overwhelmed with the voices that are just trying to comfort him, yet no one appears. It remains as just him and Eddie on the small path leading back to Home.

“Frankie and Julie have already headed on ahead. It’s just me and you. Are you ok?” The same question is so much heavier now. Especially as Eddie seemingly stares into his soul – almost the same way Wally always manages to do.

“Why would he do that?” Barnaby’s voice is broken, cracking, and barely above a whisper. Something about it is hollow and desolate.

“I don’t know,” Eddie mutters, now relaxing his grip on Barnaby’s arm.

“He… He’s supposed to be my best friend,” There’s so much distress in Barnaby’s voice. It sounds like he should’ve been shouting, he really should’ve been shouting. “Why would he leave? Why wouldn’t he say anything? Why would he stay with her?”

“I don’t know, only Wally can answer your questions.” Eddie continues to do his best to comfort Barnaby. Although the dog seems to be starting to whimper now despite trying to supress it.

“Maybe we should head back… The others are probably starting to worry about us now,” Barnaby mumbles over a barely supressed whimper.

“Yeah… Let’s head back.” Eddie places a hand on Barnaby’s back, agreeing. He knows the topic change is a desperate attempt not to start crying, so he won’t mention anything.

Wally turns up the next day like nothing ever happened. Granted, his ascot is tied in a different way then he usually does it and his pompadour isn’t coiled as tightly either, but he acts as if nothing is out of the ordinary. When Julie asks where he was, all he says is he was ‘visiting a friend’. When Howdy asks what he did, all he’ll give is vague answers. Worst of all, when Barnaby looks at him with a look of betrayal, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

"You may think of me as the villain but in reality I'm just trying to fix this broken world we live in."

"Weißer, weißer, weißer als weiß.

Weiter, weiter durch's ewige Eis.

Heller, heller, weißer als weiß.

Weiter, weiter durch's ewige Eis." ©

Art: Lunatic Sun /traditional artwork/

"Ilya lowered his eyes. He felt stupid and ridiculous, looking at the flowers in his hands. All determination seemed to dissipate, his heart was beating somewhere in his throat.

– Death has looked at me and turned away so many times that I feel like I’m not even worthy of her.

– And that’s why you went up to the sacrifice, like a lamb to the slaughter? You are persistent. So, you smell of incense. Have you been to the temple?

– Yes, Quaestor.

– With your martyr eyes, this suits you well, Doctor №069."

© "Nec Deus intersit"

Art by: Wasteofplace/Chilledoutbeast

"Quaestor Valdemar wasn’t interested in people in general. But suddenly a young man came into their dungeons, barehanded, with an armful of deadly aconites and a desperate look in his eyes. They couldn’t resist. Doctor № 069 became their favorite – object of studies, of course – and, oh, he was so willing to assist them."

Art: Lunatic Sun

Text: Apostle Jay

(Part 1 of 3)

"Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,

As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel;

For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart

Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold

Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:

To say they err, I dare not be so bold,

Although I swear it to myself alone.

And, to be sure that is not false I swear,

A thousand groans but thinking on thy face

One on another's neck do witness bear

Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.

In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds,

And thence this slander as I think proceeds".

Sonnet 131, William Shakespeare

Part two (2/3):

Previous part:

Part 1 of 3

Doctor №069 was napping on the couch in his room in the Dungeons. Hearing Quaestor's footsteps nearby, he sleepily responded:

– Behold, my Death cometh…

(based on a true story, sorry not sorry. Thank Apostle Jay for inspiration)

P. S. Beware: I'm (not only me) the uncompromising shipper Valdemar/Julian from the first time:

And because of this:

You've been warned. The right of appeal is eliminated.

"Just imagine!" Julian said playfully, continuing to gesticulate and laugh:

"Me – walking down the street. Handsome! Dangerous! Proud and unapproachable!.."

"…And awesome, as an army with banners, doctor №069?" Valdemar raised their eyebrows ironically.

Another person immediately disappeared and there was silence.

Julian stopped speaking, looked at the Quaestor and felt his face rapidly flush scarlet:

"Who is this who comes up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all spices of the merchant?"

Valdemar shook their head in response:

"How is your beloved better than another beloved, that you do so adjure us? Return, that we may gaze at you."

Without delay, Julian turned to Valdemar, and took a step towards them.

"But I beg them, don't they turn away their eyes from me, for they have overcome me".

Then he came closer, bowed his head and added:

"…for love is strong as Death".

"Strong as Death, you say?"

Valdemar replied after several seconds of silence, grinning, "Shall I consider you a worthy adversary?"

"Unless it's Song of Songs quotation challenge, Quaestor", Julian replied with a laugh.

/thx Apostle Jay for inspiration, indeed. I love kinda complicated relationships between protagonists and antagonists. As much as I love complicated headcanons, you know.🖤/

/godsend song, brutal growling with classic cello is what I absolutely needed/

Clearly, it's not easy to hide your relationship in Vesuvia. Especially when it looks questionable. Problematic. But only for the people around, of course. And none of these two cared about it. Valdemar despised the opinion of the crowd (and people in general) — and this is a huge understatement. And Doctor №069… Oh, he was too passionate and devoted to think about it. He couldn't hide his feelings.

Surely, one would notice, that Julian Devorak spends too much time in the Dungeons. That he blushes every time someone mentiones his mentor's name. That Valdemar walked with this young man down the streets of Vesuvia side by side — and usually they showed no love, interest or even mercy for the humankind.

- Are they lovers?

- No, they're worse.

/© Apostle Jay /

"The worst was this; my love was my decay"

© W. Shakespeare

Part 3/3 ⏬

/© Art; text – Lunatic Sun/

part 2/3

part 1/3

I got into WIPs, but there are finished drawings, so in this case my conscience is clear. :D

So, how it started:

How it's going:

(The "Sketch>Finished Art" team, I'm with you guys. Seriously, I really think that coloring is not my strong suit. However, I myself love the dark palette more than the bright one, but I just appreciate the contrasts that WasteOfPlace usually adds.

Like here.

Or here.

However, this is no reason to stop drawing on my own. I don't like to bother my team with my own petty whims. :D /L. S./)

And I hope Anon with the "Valdemar x Julian playlist" request is still here. Someday I will drop the whole playlist, I promise.🫀

(I am synaesthete and I love the dark-blue palette of early Apocalyptica so much. "Not strong enough" is not "the early Apocalyptica™ era", but indeed the Julian POV.)

(I was just waiting for the song that would fit perfectly with the whole atmosphere that I had in mind. So I found it.)

/art ©Lunatic Sun/

– "I stole Valdemar's heart!"

– "What do you mean?!" – his cupmates in Rowdy Raven yelled in shock. Ilya takes a flask containing the anatomical specimen from his medical bag. He carefully places it on the table, unable to suppress a victorious grin.

A few seconds later, all the witnesses to his triumphant pose turn pale as a black latex hand falls on Ilya's shoulder and squeezes. Everyone has heard a well-known low cadence with a reptilian hiss in the overtones; soft, but for some reason more deafening than all the sounds of the tavern:

– "And then you will lose your head, Doctor №069".🫀

/© Lunatic Sun./

(P. S. Sorry not sorry. And yep, "Death as she/her" not as misgendering, but in a… kinda metaphysical way, ofc. :D here's the proof, and I can't unsee in first screenshots kinda brat and jealous inflections in his speech from the very first time. And you were warned about my "juldemar apologetic in a doctrinal way". Any objections here will be rejected, if this is not your cup of tea – deal with it, 'cause this is my cup of tea. However, I do not want to impose my thoughts and opinions on anyone.)