It’s time to check in on little Oscar again. He’s had such a rough time of late. I should also note that my plans suggest only two more updates after Forever Home. We’re nearing the end of the Unnamed Sad Oscar AU that swept us all up in the feels.

( x )

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Oscar squirmed uncomfortably, but he didn’t dare struggle as much as he wanted to. Trapped in a hand, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go if he were to escape. More than that, his training still rang loudly in his memory despite how long it had been.

Weeks, maybe months, had gone by. Oscar had been “adopted,” so the humans liked to call it. He knew what that really meant.

He was theirs. Their own living doll, a pet to hold and play with whenever they wished.

The man who’d paid for him insisted that he was a family pet, but Charlotte always insisted otherwise. The woman of the house, home more often than not, Oscar saw her more than any other human in his life. The afternoons all ran together, and one day was no different from the next. This one was looking to be the same.

“Oh, my darling little Ollie,” Charlotte cooed as she lifted him up towards her face. He still didn’t have the courage to correct her.

Her other hand appeared, with one finger extended. Oscar pursed his lips and held in a squeak as she petted his messy hair. Each stroke strained his neck and tilted his head back. His eyes were wide, and she smiled at him. She thought it was cute to pet him that way. He wasn’t allowed to tell her that it hurt.

“Mummy has a gift for you, are you excited?” Charlotte prompted.

Oscar winced. Unlike Noriko, the last human to treat him like her favorite doll, Charlotte really did expect an answer from him. He’d learned quickly that she became more dismissive of him if he didn’t answer, and when Charlotte became dismissive, she became careless. He’d bruised himself against his doll table when she discarded him in his cage the first time he found out.

He waited until his head was tilted back under her rough influence and he could meet her gaze. “Y-yes,” he squeaked out. “I’m-I’m excited.”

It didn’t sound convincing to him. Oscar could only hear the dread in his voice, the dread that built up in him like a shield against the terror of every day since he’d been captured.

Charlotte only heard what she wanted to hear. She squealed with delight, and Oscar’s world lurched as she held him close to her chest in a hug. The necklace she wore nearly tangled around him.

Another lurch as she held him in front of her again. Oscar didn’t have a chance to find his bearings before her thumb shifted against his chest and pushed him upwards in her grasp. He squeaked and shut his eyes tight, but somehow she didn’t drop him. His entire upper body was free to the open air now. It felt like he could topple over at any second.

He didn’t. Instead, Charlotte’s hand returned and pinched at the hem of his doll shirt. It was a thick, clumsily-made thing, pale blue and a stark contrast to the drab colors he’d always made himself. It wouldn’t blend in anywhere.

With a deft upward tug, it came off. It forced Oscar’s arms straight up as Charlotte took it away from him before he was ready. He nearly caught his chin on the collar, but he’d become used to this sort of thing long ago. The less he resisted it, the less likely he was to twist something or get hurt.

He didn’t see where the old shirt was tossed once it was removed. With a shudder, Oscar eyed Charlotte’s other hand as it disappeared into one of her pockets. His chest was bare to the air, but his shivering wasn’t from the cold.

“Ohhh, poor Ollie,” she cooed. Her hand emerged, but it closed in a fist around whatever she had in store for him. Instead, she poked at Oscar’s stomach with one manicured nail, and he cringed back. “You still need to try to eat more, sweetie. I’ll be sure to bring you some treats after dinner.”

There was a pause, and Oscar shuddered again. He ate better in captivity than he ever had in his whole life on his own, but it didn’t feel like a victory. His constant fear ensured it.

“Um. Th-thanks. Thank you,” he stammered out.

He had remembered himself just in time. Charlotte smiled wide. “You’re welcome, Oliver. Now, arms up?”

She held up the item she’d retrieved from her pocket at last. The new shirt was darker than the last one, but still not enough for Oscar to hide anywhere. The cloth looked softer, at least, but there was a strange diamond pattern on the front. Charlotte’s proud smile was a backdrop to the ugly thing, and she shook the shirt in what she probably thought was an enticing fashion.

Oscar sighed. He couldn’t smile. He’d never smiled for her, no matter how much she tried to coax it out of him. Instead, he put his arms up and forward like she’d asked. It was the best he could do.

This time, at least, it was enough. Charlotte adjusted her grip on the shirt (so small in her hand, but oversized for Oscar) and brought it close. Oscar put his arms into the bottom and ducked his head as she pulled it over him. He scrambled quickly to find the sleeves, and his hands slipped through the fabric just in time for the collar to settle over his head. His hair became even wilder when his head popped free.

He didn’t have any resistance in him even if he wanted to squirm away while Charlotte fussed at the hem and the sleeves of his new shirt. She made sure it settled over his waist and wasn’t too short (it wasn’t) and even checked to see if the sleeves were too long for him (they were).

Eventually, she was satisfied, and she bounced on her feet. Oscar braced himself the best he could against her hand, and then his body bowed over as she moved him once again. This time, he was close to her face.

“You look adorable, Ollie,” she cooed. Oscar could see his reflection in her eyes. His brow was pinched with worry and his knuckles were white as he braced his hands.

Adorable. All the humans who ever called him that only brought out the “compliment” when he was terrified of them.

He winced as he moved yet again, this time closer to Charlotte’s lips. Oscar turned his head to the side and went rigid as she kissed him, an unwanted and inevitable show of her so-called love for him. His reward for being cute in her eyes. It was no different from Noriko, except perhaps how careful Noriko used to be.

When he lowered next, Oscar finally saw the opening into his cage approaching. He sighed with relief, even as the hand around him dove into the dollhouse-prison and deposited him on a miniature couch. At least in there he was away from human hands, though with the glass front on the dollhouse and its many rooms, he was never truly away from human eyes.

Charlotte gave him one last indulgent smile as she latched the door closed, and Oscar sighed. Her footsteps rattled through the floor as she retreated, and he felt every one but didn’t care.

Lying his head back in defeat on the doll’s couch, Oscar stared up at the ceiling of his forever home and wondered how long “forever” was supposed to be.