one night okito sougo is trying to fall asleep when his phone beeps. he tries to ignore it but eventually decides to check the message. there’s no name associated with this number, he notices, and the attachment only adds to his suspicion. sougo opens it gingerly and when he sees the photo he was sent, he curses a certain yato girl’s name.
there’s a blank period in his memory between china charging at that yagyuu man, thus smashing sougo’s face into the door frame, and eventually waking up seated against a wall. and he has no doubt this stupid photo was shot then.
his lips thin as he takes in china’s smug smile and her foot planted on his back as he lays there facedown, unconscious, and suffering from various wounds all inflicted by or caused by her.
anonymous requested:Oi ! i really like ur writings and was wondering if you do bill skarsgard/pennywise stuff ? if you do can you write a oneshot where Y/N plays the older sister (like shes in her twenties or smth) of beverly and pennywise kills her ? but Bill Skarsgard (he plays Pennywise) has a thing for Y/N and really hopes to impress her but it kinda goes wrong in someway ? idek but it’s been a idea i’ve had for ages ! thankss !
Warnings: Spoilers -? Maybe? IT is a horror movie so, murder and choking. Also brief brief brief topics of vomit.
Word Count: 1880
A/N: I’m fully aware this is one shot is a bit bizarre and definitely a specific niche (not one that I share necessarily) but I feel like I need to preface this by saying this is simply just for fun. PSA Bev Marsh doesn’t have an older sister Y/N’s role is purely for this work
Ever since Y/N got the call telling her she, Y/N L/N, was to play the part of Laura Marsh, her stomach still hasn’t unfolded itself. It was still all balled up in the pit of her lower abdomen, like she could hurl at any time. It had been there through the three months of filming they had done and she concluded that it would probably never leave.
Her character didn’t play much of a part in the loser’s club, but Y/N’s character was given her own story in the film. She was Laura Marsh, the real town ‘slut’ even though she often used her little sister Bev as a scapegoat. She hung out with Patrick Hocksetter and Henry Bower, and was usually one of Bev and the loser’s tormentors. Laura was a bitch by all standards of convention, even Y/N could admit, which was her death scene was supposed to be simultaneously terrifying and reliving.
Y/N watched as the loser’s from her black chair as they played hand games and laughed together on the pavement. The blacktop was so hot! She thought, how the hell did they stand it? Y/N technically had only stopped being a kid three years ago (she was 21 now) but she still could never remember a time where she was so uncaring.
“Do ya’ know when they’re gonna start already? Jesus lets just get on with the scene already!” The slightly squeaky voice of Nicholas Hamilton (Henry Bowers) abruptly asked beside her. Three months ago she would’ve jumped, but now she didn’t even think about it. She heard a chair scraping against the ground and it groaned with the weight of Nick’s body. She turned and smiled at him, placing her thick and annotated script onto her lap. He was wearing an orange wife beater tanktop and Y/N could see redness on his shoulders beginning to form.
“Whoa I die in this scene! You want me gone that much, huh?” Y/N asked, feigning hurt as she chuckled lightly. It was the most unfortunate death for poor Laura Marsh, first she was kissed and then left by her boyfriend (which just so happened to be Henry Bowers) in the sewers of all places, then she was brutally ripped apart by a clown wearing his face. Y/N knew that the younger actor was anxious for his first on-screen make out (he had told her so time and time again) but she hoped the playful conversation would calm his nerves.
Y/N was nervous too but for a different reason entirely. She was an experience actress, she had crossed all the necessary rights of passage, yet she was so nervous. Y/N had talked to Bill Skarsgard twice and she couldn’t shake her stupid, girlish crush. She hardly knew the guy for fuck’s sake! She had wanted so much to come from this movie, It was her first big production movie, but now she was most certainly gonna screw up. How the hell could she pretend to be terrified of the guy when she was secretly thinking ‘I want you to rub my mouth on your mouth’?
“No! No!” Nick assured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not the death I’m looking forward to,” he whispered under his breath not so subtly. A few moments of hot silence followed before he reached over and grabbed the script from Y/N’s lap. He lazily fanned himself with it boyishly.
“You’ve got another coupla scenes after this so it’s not like you’re not going anywhere!” He joked as he tried in vain to cool himself off. His voice was shaking slightly and his laughs were constrained, like he wasn’t breathing in enough. Y/N cocked her eyebrow and waited for a few seconds before she made a lunge for her script. She, of course, missed it and hit her elbow on the wooden arm rest of his chair.
“C’mon why do you carry this thing anyhow? Everyone knows you memorized this thing cover to cover the instant you got it.” Nick teased stretching his arm away from Y/N as he peered at all of her highlights and somewhat embarrassing notes.
Y/N tried to crack a smile, but it was true, she did take it everywhere. How could she not? How else could she ensure she’d pull through? Besides was it so wrong for her to make sure everything went perfectly?
Nevertheless, she was beginning to suspect that Nick knew something that he shouldn’t, that sneaky little son of a bitch. She was about to reply with a typical snarky remark but she was interrupted by Andy (the director) shouting, “Y/N, Nick, and Bill - Scene 6 please!” Her heart sank as her body began to move without her brain’s consent. Nick had already jumped up and ran over to Andy enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Y/N’s thighs peeled up from her chair and she awkwardly waddled over to join them.
Andy took one glance at her before waving a makeup artist down and whispering in her ear. How ironic that this makeup artist looked like a scary clown herself, what with all that highlighter. The girl took a dry rag and began to dab Y/N’s face a bit, before she was pulled onto set by someone’s face she didn’t even get to see.
Nick grabbed Y/N’s hand and lightly guided her into position, awaiting Andy to shout “Action!” Y/N could still see the kids offscreen playing their hand games, but now one of them had begun throwing little balls of mud.
“Alright! Is everyone in position?!” Andy asked looking around as if he were waiting for someone to point out a problem. He nodding to the man holding the slate, before loudly shouting “AND ACTION!”
Nick immediately pushed Y/N’s hips up against the walls of the sewers and she giggled obnoxiously. His lips roughly greeted hers in a strained, but very teenager, kiss. The kiss lasted only for a couple of seconds before he pulled away and wiped his mouth, following the script to a tee.
“You’re getting better.” He commented rudely and went back to give her another kiss. But Y/N’s character, Laura pushed his chest back, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Henry?” Y/N made sure to smack her lips together, to cock her head, and roll her eyes.
“It means that I thought sluts like you were supposedta’ be good at kissin’. But I guess sluts aren’t really known for their kissin’ anyways.” Again, Nick went in for a kiss, but Y/N pushed him back and feigned disbelief.
Only open your mouth slightly, stop cocking your head, frown, stare, make your eyes water Y/N went through exactly what she had to do in the mirror time and time again, perfecting every part of her express- Crap, lower your chin and …. cry!
Nick glanced at her, though by now her character was balling. “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You know that right? How much do you charge again?” He asked so sourly the words curdled in his mouth.
“Just get the fuck outta here!” Y/N yelled and she could see, out of her peripheral vision, Andy mouthing along to the words. Nick smirked evilly, before exiting the set and giving her an encouraging off screen thumbs up. Y/N slumped down and cried pathetically, just as it was written. But eventually she stood and stumbled around in the sewers, crying all the way. She could feel the presence of the camera over her shoulder as it followed her like a ghost. Abruptly, the sound of demonic laughter reverberated around the metal of the sewer hitting Y/N’s ears. Bill was too good at that. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand. Her character stopped walking and wiped her nose with the back of her cranberry colored sweatshirt.
A floating red balloon bobbed through the air as it came softly down to where Y/N was standing. It bobbed so peacefully (like the script had said), so her character tried to reach out to get it like a young child. Perhaps poor slut Laura Marsh needed comfort too, Y/N pondered.
“AND PENNYWISE GO!” Andy shouted, marking where CGI would be used to create a horrifying, deformed hell version of Bill’s beautiful face. Y/N jumped and let out a throaty, raspy scream, the same scream she was hired for. She felt cold hands on her sweatshirt before she saw Bill, but once she did she couldn’t help to scream again. It was nightmarish, with his enlarged forehead and pointed smile.
The clown pinned Y/N up against the wall, which would’ve actually choked her if it had not been for the slight incline that let her tiptoes hang on. She gasped and sputtered, still crying and struggling pathetically. “HO HO HEHEHE!” The clown laughed in her ear and the sound shocked her so much that Y/N lost her footing, her toes couldn’t get a grip on the wet floor of the sewer. Bill was already so much taller than her at 6’4” that in order to deliver the lines properly, he had begun brought her up to his face. She gripped tightly onto his gloved hands as she coughed and began to feel a bit light headed as he continued to laugh maniacally.
Just kill me already! Y/N painfully thought, she would hate to be the reason for the failed take. But Pennywise, or Bill, never seemed to talk fast enough and Y/N was really beginning to feel the effects as she tried desperately to gulp in air.
“I - I,” Wheeze. “C-c-can’t-t,” Wheeze.
Immediately like a switch had been pulled, she felt the pressure on her throat release as she fell to the ground into the disgusting water. She gulped in sweet air like she had never breathed before and Andy, god bless him, finally shouted “Cut!”
“Y/N! Are you alright!? I really didn’t mean to! I mean I thought maybe - but - I’m so sorry!” Pennywi- Bill shouted, helping her up by placing his hand on the small of her back. It was so odd hearing him be so gentle and polite while wearing such a terrifying costume. His eyes, which five seconds ago where full of such rage, now were softened and sad. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Bill said exasperatedly and guided her over to where Andy sat, all the while she was still breathing in and out deeply.
“Y/N! Y/N! What happened!” Y/N heard the voices of the child actors as they ran over to inspect the situation.
“It was the heat you dufas!” One of the kids proclaimed obviously, as they patted her shoulder. But all Y/N could focus on was the sound of her heart beating as she panted heavily.
“I’m … fine guys.” Y/N confirmed as she rubbed her neck tenderly. Now that she finally had air in her lungs, the pain of where Bill’s fingers had wrapped around her throat set in.
“I’m so sorry,” Bill repeated as he tried to give her kindest smile he could, buck tooth, blood drenched and everything.
Jungkook was a tall guy, handsome with all those ethereal artwork
tattooed on his arms..and your best friend. He was by your side
whereas you faced a painful heartbreak, caressing your hurt soul for
as long as you needed him. But how much can a friendship withstand if
one of the two develops feelings?
It was terrifying how much could change in a year. To think that just a few short weeks could change everything about you was daunting, but true. When you had left life felt like torture, like everywhere you looked there was something waiting to mock you. You were broken, your heart all but ashes when you boarded the first flight away, but you knew it was what you needed to do. You needed time away from it all to figure out what you wanted, to figure out who you were without all of the things you’d grown so used to. It was hard, leaving it all behind, like you just gave away a piece of yourself with no plans of ever getting it back.
Loving Byun Baekhyun was hard, but letting that love go, was harder.
I actually believe what became of Narti cemented my conviction that Lotor and the generals were incredibly close.
Because Lotor was put in a situation where, from his perspective, the only way to get forward and escape, to get to any kind of safe house and have it stay a safe house, was to get rid of Narti, and…
Doing so broke him. It broke the generals, it broke everything Lotor built and operated on.
We have watched Zarkon kill off his subordinates all the time. Every time he does, like clockwork, the empire just calmly soldiers onward. Some new person moves in to fill the vacancy, sometimes within seconds. This works, because Zarkon has no real emotional attachment to any of those people. They’re all just tools to him. He doesn’t care about them. What’s Prorok, Throk, the captain from s1e1 and the druid cut down in season 2 who we didn’t even know the names of? They’re just bodies, and Zarkon throws them to the cause or throws them away without any consideration for them as people.
Lotor- who has the most powerful enemies one possibly can have in this setting, who is incredibly cautious, who builds everything off of anticipating his enemies and positioning himself to profit however someone acts- had no backup plan, had no contingency, had nothing to respond to a betrayal from the level of the generals.
(Because Narti wouldn’t betray him, because that’s not who she is as a person, but Narti was in the wrong place at the wrong time and Haggar somehow exploited her)
Because literally a single loss destroyed everything Lotor built. Because the threshold between “on top of the world” and “desperate” was literally one person.
If Lotor was like Zarkon, if Lotor was cold- Narti wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t have surrounded himself with people who were profoundly haunted at that loss. And yes, we see Lotor putting a stoic face on the aftermath- but we see the same thing of Acxa, who clearly took the loss of Narti incredibly personally given she ultimately chooses to betray Lotor for Narti.
We see Lotor hurt himself to escape handcuffs, and this is his first direct act against the other three surviving generals. This is not a subtle metaphor. For Lotor, turning on his subordinates is directly comparable to, and equated with, dislocating his shoulders painfully.
Narti wasn’t Lotor throwing someone away. Narti was, for Lotor, the equivalent of amputating a limb in the middle of the woods with no anesthetic to escape a trap. The takeaway isn’t “oh, you weren’t really using that arm, it didn’t matter to you.” The takeaway is “you were that desperate not to be caught, that you destroyed something that you not only cared about but relied on and quite frankly, you’ll probably never be the same again.”
Just because Lotor’s got a metaphorical tourniquet now doesn’t mean he’s okay.
Maybe there was a time when the word of a disembodied voice would not have been enough. He doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t remember a lot of things. He remembers a lot of things. He remembers the wrong things.
He is slow. Maybe he wasn’t always slow, but he is slow now. There is no straight line between points. He considers every tree and every flower. He picks apples and catches lizards. He stares at the sky, and chases the stars.
He doesn’t speak much. He’s told he never did. He wonders if it was then what it is now, the way the words taste wrong and never fit on his tongue. Hylian and Hylian and Hylian but it never sounds right to the points of his ears. His first language is foreign and his accent is nowhere. He doesn’t sound like a hero. He doesn’t know what he sounds like, but he knows he doesn’t like it. It grates the way any wrong thing grates. He says nothing, and no one seems to mind.
He catches beetles, and stops to take pictures of fish.
In the burnt husk of a home, he finds a rusted shield. It didn’t do them much good, whoever they had been. He finds them all over, these floors without ceilings, these roofs without walls. He wonders, always: have I been here before? Did I know them, once? This house on the mountain, this cabin in the woods, would they have recognized me? Was this a name that fit on my tongue?
He learns to bake a cake, breaks rock salt and rubies from veins of ore in the earth.
He moves the sails of a raft with a Korok leaf, and he thinks: this should be easier. He wills the wind to move, but there is nothing. He looks out at the ocean and thinks: what might we find there? His raft is dead wood. He is alone.
He catches fairies in his hands, pink light and warmth and a faint ringing in his skin. They never complain. They never speak. He opens his hands to let them go, and they are the wrong color. The Great Fairy laughs, and it’s so much prettier than it used to be. Than it never was. He rolls glass bottles in his hands, but he doesn’t take them with him.
There is something restful in this. He can’t explain it, even if he had words to try. In his long slumber something inside him came unmoored, and he knows things he must not. He is tired. He knows this most of all. There is work to be done. There has always been work to be done.
He lights a fire, roasts a fish, picks at the flaky meat while it’s still hot enough to burn his fingertips.
He thinks of a sister he never had. He thinks of a grandmother he never had. Did he know his grandmother? In the Lost Woods he stares at the Deku Tree, and knows this is not home. There is a green-haired girl on the backs of his eyelids, and she sounds like three notes repeating.
He finds an ocarina made of wood, and runs his fingers over the holes. Three notes, repeating. He plays them, and nothing happens. He checks the shape of the moon and his reflection in the water. He plays three notes, different this time. There is nothing but an ache.
It sounds more like his voice than his voice ever did, and that hurts worse than silence.
He tries to remember Mipha. He wants to remember her most of all. They were friends, he is told. Close, he is told. He has nothing but fragments and a shirt that fits too well. When he tries to remember, he sees blue scales instead of red.
Zelda is Zelda is Zelda. She is the reference point around which the world turns. She is always Zelda, even when she isn’t. Her face is always her face. He is grateful and resentful in turns. There are so many people he would remember, if he could. Instead there is Zelda.
Ganon is not Ganon is not Ganon. He doesn’t know if Ganon has a face. He’s had so many faces. Was this ever a man, this manifestation of malice? He remembers eyes of gold, he remembers snouts. He recognizes the smell of him in burnt cloves and blood.
Fear is red lights and a blue glow. He knows these things were hope, once. He can’t remember it. He can’t remember seeing six metal legs and believing they would save him. Did he always know that it was helpless? It feels like he should have known.
The words are different, but the meaning is the same. He is procrastinating. If he needed an excuse, he would call it training. He would say they need every advantage. He would say they will only have one chance. No one asks for excuses. He says nothing.
Zelda has waited a hundred years. She waits, still.
She remembers a boy who never rushed her. She remembers, the way he does not, his silent patience while she found herself. While she took too long to find herself. She will wait for him to find himself, even if he takes too long. They may doom the world with their patience, but does the world not owe them this? There are so many worlds, and so few of them are kind. What could this world have been, if it had been kind? What might she have saved if it had not demanded saving?
She did not save the world. She will not save the world. She saved a single point of kindness who did not ask it from her. She will not ask it from him, but he may save her all the same. He is courageous. He is kind. Please, be careful.
He catches Koroks in durian trees, and chases dragons through canyons.
He jumps off a cliff to land in a stable, and no one there sees the hero he should be. He is no one, he is nothing. He is halfway to a beast, but they’re grateful for his help, when he offers it. He always offers it. He doesn’t know how not to.
His hands are calloused. Sometimes they bleed. He ties up his hair every morning, and does not stop. Swords fit so neatly in his hand. Sometimes he uses them to light fires or carve birds. It’s just easier. A sword is all he knows. He’s trying to be more. This might be beyond him.
Sometimes he growls when he’s angry. Sometimes he rips things apart with his teeth. Sometimes dogs follow him, but sometimes they whine. The shadows aren’t always unfriendly, and he feels them like fingers in his hair. There are eyes like fire in the mirrors at night, but he can only see them in the corners of his eyes.
The first time the Gerudo catch him, it was because he tried to scale their walls. Why did he think that would work? Urbosa would laugh if she knew.
He catches horses, but they’re never the right one. The hooves are wrong, the gait is wrong. They are never a part of him, an extension of his own legs. He rides across fields and they hesitate the way she never did. He whistles three notes, sometimes, but it never works.
He finds it, eventually. The place the voice told him about. Walls without a roof. Has he been here before? Surely he has. It’s night when he arrives. His footsteps make no sound. This is how he navigates the world, now, quiet as the sky. It’s easier this way. He kneels down to catch the latch on the chest, and when it opens, he cannot breathe.
He stares at it for a long time.
The moon is only the moon. His skin is still his own. Eventually, he breathes again.
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.
Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see) and slight Eddie x Reader
Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones, pennywise.
When you’d woken up that morning, the house was yet again filled with silence.
The weekend, in your opinion had gone by too quickly as you woke up that Monday morning. You had the house to yourself, as your mother hadn’t come home all weekend, but that in itself wasn’t odd. Your mother could not come home for days on end, weeks, depending on what man she’d found and set herself up with for a while.
Your mother would rather spend her time with randoms strangers that could hurt her for all she knew, than see her own daughter.
But of course, you weren’t shocked and it most definitely wasn’t anything out of the norm. And on the plus side, it meant you got to be by yourself for a while, which never seemed to happen anymore. You liked to believe that’s why the weekend had gone by quickly, and not because you dreaded the faces you were going to see when you walked through the school halls.
You sighed heavily as you sat up in your bed, groaning as you felt the muscles in your back pop. You tried to ignore the creaking your bed made as you moved, a constant annoyance as you tried to sleep at night. Letting your eyes fall on the alarm clock, you read the time seven in the morning, the time you usually woke up. Which also meant you had about thirty minutes to get ready.
You paused for a moment, letting your eyes wander around you. Something felt off, you weren’t sure just what yet. But there was an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Shrugging it off, you got up off your bed and begin getting ready for school.
It seemed though, that that morning you’d gotten a bit lost in your mind. You were suppose to leave at seven thirty, since it was a fifteen minute walk to school and classes began at eight-fifty in the morning. When you’d finally finished getting dressed, and throwing your hair up in some kind of look, the clock read seven-thirty-nine. You had about eleven minutes to get to school, which wouldn’t be bad, if you hurried.
Grabbing your bag off the kitchen table, where it’d been all weekend, you rushed out the door, slamming it behind you. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you ran down your steps, stumbling forward ungracefully. As you turned the corner to begin your walk on the road, you felt yourself slam against another.
The force of the hit made you stumble back slightly, only for you to loose your footing and slam onto your butt. You huffed in annoyance, moaning in pain as you landed unnaturally on the concrete beneath you.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” Though your mind drifted from your own pain when you’d heard the voice, a voice that you’d never forget. It was a lot deeper than you remembered, but that was to be expected. Your thoughts were only confirmed when you peered up above you, and saw the familiar dark brown eyes above you.
“Mike?!” You asked, your voice cracking besides yourself. Mike looked away from his bike, the same bike he’d ridden as a child you’d noticed, and the packages packed within the basket to you. You watched his face fall, and his eyes flitter up above you to your house. “I’d forgotten this was your house…”
While it was an innocent enough statement, you felt your heart burn. He’d forgotten where you’d lived but you hadn’t forgotten the bike he used to ride as a child.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked at your wrist watch; seven-forty-three. You didn’t accept Mike’s hand as you crawled up yourself, dusting off your jeans in a haste before turning and running the other direction.
“School!” You called back, looking over your shoulder. “I’m gonna be late!”
“You’re late… Ms. Y/L/N.” You paused in the doorway, you’d barely walked through the door before your science teacher had alerted everyone else of your presence. Clenching your fists, you nodded your head, already knowing if you were to say anything else it’d back fire on you.
Your stupid science teacher didn’t even spare you a glance, didn’t look up from his desk. But the many students sitting in their desks did, anything to get them away from the boring text book work they’d had to start. You checked your watch briefly, you were four minutes late. That’s it. You could still feel your heart pumping against your chest sporadically, and your breathing coming out unevenly.
You waited impatiently at the door, practically begging to be allowed in. “Please step out.” He ordered you, and you felt your mouth fall open in shock. “B-But i’m only four minutes lat-”
“Four minutes too late, Ms. Y/L/N.” Your science teacher interrupted you. Finally he looked up at you, but only halfway. You sputtered for a response, you were never late. Not once. You arrived five minutes early even if you could, but this one day. One day! And he was acting as if you’d committed a crime. “You know the rules. If you are late, you do not to come to class.”
It wasn’t normal that you got angry. Hell, half of the time it looked as if you didn’t even know what emotions were. But you could feel your chest burning, as if you’d been shot and the anger run through your body. So, you did the first thing that flew to your mind. “Fuck you.” And stormed out the door.
“Ms-Ms. Y/L/N! Get- You get back here right now!”
You stomped through the hallways, passing by a few skippers who gave you odd looks. But no part of you cared. You were stressed, tired and exhausted. None of you wanted to deal with any of this today, but you knew that you’d later regret that. When it came to tomorrow and you had to walk through the doors, but all of that slipped through your usual rationale mind.
You slammed the school doors behind you, walking around the steps up that you’d just descended down and fell against the school wall. You stood there for a moment, huffing in anger as you leaned your head against the brick wall behind you. What a dick…
Sighing, you reached into your bag, searching through until your hands fell on the intended object. Pulling out the box, you flipped the lip open, taking out the lighter and one cigarette stick. You stared at the cancer stick for a moment, you hadn’t smoked in a while, mainly because your mind had been on so many other things. It’d been Henry who’d gotten you into the habit but in a sick sort of way, you only did it because you distinctly remember Beverly had.
In it’s own twisted way, it felt like you were keeping a part of her to yourself. Even if it was a decease stick.
You don’t know how long you stood there, leaning against the wall and pumping your lungs with toxicity. It felt like a good while, just you and your thoughts. But the moment was ruined when you heard yelling and a bunch of words being mumbled and stumbled over together. You furrowed your brows, sighing as the peace and quiet was ripped from your ears before dropping the cigarette stick and squishing it with your shoe.
When you walked around the ledge of the staircase, which you’d been hiding behind, you found the one and only Henry Bowers. Of course Victor and Belch were with him, along with two other people you didn’t bother to remember. You’d been wondering where your boyfriend was, seeing as he liked to skip you’d thought you’d see him walk by.
But it seemed he’d had his hands busy if the struggling boy in the middle was anything to go by.
You would’ve walked off, like usual until you realized who they held in their arms. It seemed Eddie Kaspbrak was still a popular target for your boyfriend… You wondered why you’d never noticed that.
Nonetheless, you continued walking, making your way over to the five boys. “Hey, Henry.” You smiled lightly, bringing his attention on you. Whatever he’d been whisper to Eddie immediately feel silent on his lips as he found you. “Y/N, just who i’ve been looking for.” He grinned, and you refused the urge to cringe. “Come, it’s time to play.”
His words made you freeze, forgetting everything you’d been about to do as you stayed still. Henry noticed your sudden change in attitude and raised an eyebrow your way.
“What did you say?” You asked, fear etching your voice.
“What?” Henry asked, not amused. Blinking, you shook your head. You were overthinking it; “n-nothing.”
You did your best not to make eye contact with Eddie, who’d quieted his sobs but you could still hear him breath heavily in fear. You only hoped this worked…
Leaning up against Henry’s side, you peered up at him, smiling lustfully. You went up onto your tip-toes, breathing into his neck while you whispered; “why don’t we go somewhere?” When you leaned back, you watched his eyes widen and a disgusting smile fall on his lips.
A hand wound around your waist, and you felt yourself press against Henry. You looked over at Eddie who was still being held in Victor’s and Belch’s hands. Henry nodded and the two of them let Eddie go, but not without kicking him to the ground. You refused to flinch as you heard the thud and Eddie’s moan of pain, instead deciding to smile over at Henry who’d let go of you.
He walked over to Victor and Belch, whispering so you couldn’t hear but you could imagine what they were saying. And it made you disgusted.
Taking his distraction as a chance, you leaned down, grabbing Eddie who flinched from your grasp. He looked up in fear only to find you and nodding at him, you leaned down to grab him, helping him up. Eddie stumbled but nonetheless found his feet again and went to say something to you, but your mind was on something else.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Henry turn towards you, so you shoved Eddie away. He nearly tripped over his own two feet, but caught himself and peered back at you. Henry stepped up to you and you saw his face falter, for even just a second, he’d saw…
“I heard you told a teacher to fuck off today, Y/N.” Henry grounded out; “that’s my girl.” You closed your eyes at his words, hating when he objectified you like that. You hated it even more know that Eddie was there to witness it. Reaching a hand out, Henry grabbed ahold of your wrist much like yesterday, but this time his grip was much more hard. Almost bruising.
You winced, but didn’t fight as he started walking off.
Eddie stayed behind, watching the encounter before him in shock before he felt two shadows fall over him. “Enjoying the show, freak?” Victor sneered and Eddie took a step back in habit.
“Run off, Eds.”
The next day went much like you expected, you got detention. Of course you didn’t much care, it gave you an excuse not to have to see Henry after school.
Though first half of the day was hell, boring. Not to mention having to explain the bruise on your wrist to your mother when you’d gotten home that night. She didn’t much care for you as long as you looked pretty. A bruise on an underage kid could be un-beneficial for her, so it was important you looked untouched.
Slamming your locker door shut, you pounced your knee, wanting to get outside as quick as you could for lunch. You need a cigarette and bad, no matter how bad it was for you. But as you turned around, something made you freeze.
IT. IT. It- It stood there, through the midst of a crowded hallway. IT. You felt your eyes go wide and your heart beat grow rapid as IT raise it’s hand and waved slowly at you, teasingly slow and a sickening smile grew on it’s lip. But- but how? How? You and the rest- you’d defeated him. At least for another twenty-seven years when you were long and gone.
It’d only been four.
And for the first time that number seemed small, when for you those four years had been agonizingly long.
“Wha- what?” You whispered out.
“I’m back!” Pennywise cheered, aloud but not one of the other kids noticed anything. How? “I’m back. I’m back! Back! Back, back, back, back.”
“Come back, Y/N!” Blinking, IT was gone. As if he’d vanished, and when you looked in the place he’d stood, nothing. Furrowing your brows, you stepped back only for your eyes to fall before you on another figure. “Eddie?!”
“I’ve been calling you for two whole minutes, Y/N.” Eddie frowned, “are you okay?” It felt odd for him to ask that question. To seem as if he cared.
“I-I-” You looked past Eddie’s head, IT wasn’t there. “I’m fine… Eddie, why are you here?”
“I wanted to thank you for yesterday…” Eddie mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in shame. His words made you pause, and you to finally focus on him completely.
Eddie seemed genuinely surprised you didn’t know what he was referring to; “for helping me with Henry and his friends…” You didn’t miss the way his eyes flew to your wrist where the purple and blue mark was growing darker. You grabbed it with your other hand, hiding it from view and cursing yourself for not wearing a longer sleeved sweater. “If you hadn’t come when you had… well, i’m not sure what would’ve happened.”
The experience of speaking to Eddie was so foreign to you, and you felt great discomfort grow within you. Now, you really needed a puff. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You rambled on, looking past him; “look, Eddie I need to go-”
A/N: No spoilers for V route in this one, unless you don’t know what name Saeran goes by in the route I guess.
His head hurts like someone is repeatedly smashing it with a brick. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he’s burning in a sea of flames so hot that his tears have all dried up. He can’t seem to feel his legs as they stumble and buckle. He barely manages to reach his arm out to grip the foot of the mattress of the bed to steady himself, but his grip slips as another wave of pain pulses through his temples, sending him crumpling to the floor in an ungraceful heap.
His vision blurs, the room tilting and spinning in ways that defied the laws of Physics. He tries in vain to get up on his own, gritting his teeth in an effort to keep the groans from escaping him. No one likes it when he whimpers or whines. His mother hated it the most, despised it whenever he was as weak and useless as he was now.
But it hurts. It hurts too much. And before long he feels moisture gathering behind his tightly shut eyes. He wants to cry. He wants the pain to go away. He wants to eat ice cream. He wants to be un-sick. He wants to be useful, not worthless. Because worthless means abandonment and betrayal. Losing your value means losing the love and warmth of the ones you hold dear.
And that means… losing her too.
He wills the tears to go away, biting on his gum hard and clenching his fists. He cannot cry. Crying is for the weak. He’s supposed to be stronger than this. He’s supposed to have grown out of being the crybaby who could only rely on his brother for every little thing.
Just then, he hears the door thrown open, and on instinct, he flinches, holding his breath.
It’s his mother. She’s heard him crying and woken up. He can hear her shrill screaming ringing in his ears. Calling him a worthless, dirty brat. Saying he would be better off left in the dumpster since he’s as good as rubbish. Yelling at him to shut up or she’ll tie him up and lock him in the storage room again. Stuff him in there for a good few hours in the dark with no food or water. Then forget about him and leave him there to die as he should have a long time ago.
He senses her approaching, her quick, loud footsteps like gongs of a funeral bell in his ears.
Please no, I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop crying. I’ll stop being sick, please don’t tie me up, please don’t lock me in there, please!
He’s too weak to hide or shrink away, all he can manage is a sluggish backward crawl like a cockroach struggling to move while on its back.
She bends down.
He braces himself for a tight, hard slap across the cheek. And then another, and another, and another and another until it’s just a rain of slaps against his face, his pounding head, his arms and legs.
Please, please don’t hurt me Mother, I’m in the wrong, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry–
His thoughts are interrupted when he feels a hand slowly cup his cheek. He flinches away, but the hand returns to his face. A gentle, tender, soft hand. He slowly opens his eyes which are wet with tears, and he sees her. Not his mother’s bloodshot, livid eyes, but soft eyes full of concern. He sees her lips moving, but he can’t hear what she’s saying.
All he can register are the tears rapidly falling down his cheeks, the patient and kind manner in which she brushes them away one by one, her thumb kissing his cheek with each stroke, and her scent. Not alcohol, but… the fragrance of fresh flowers blooming on a clear summer’s day.
He feels her arm around his shoulders, in an attempt to pull him up. He tries to get up with her help, and after a bit of a struggle she manages to plop him down on the bed and settle him into a lying position that’s comfortable enough.
“…fever, hold on, let me get you a wet cloth and some water,” she mumbles in a rush.
She abruptly stands up, and his body feels cold as if she’s already left him.
In a brief moment of clarity, his arm reaches out, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving him.
“Don’t go,” he croaks, another tear slipping down his face. “Don’t leave me here.”
She pauses, and for a second he thinks she’s going to wrench her hand from his weak grasp, determined to get away from him like everyone else always does. Because there is no use for trash other than to be discarded and burned to ashes and disappear with the wind.
But then all she does is to quietly take his hand in hers, before sitting down next to him on the bed.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. With you.”
“Don’t go,” he repeats. Everyone says that. Everyone says they won’t leave. And then they do anyway, when they get tired of dealing with him when he’s weak like this.
“I won’t. I’m staying right here with you, Ray.”
She hums, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Pinky promise. Now get some rest.”
He doesn’t close his eyes though. He keeps them trained on her. What if she leaves while he’s asleep? What if he wakes up, only to find that she’s gone, just like how Saeyoung had left him?
“Hold my hand… Don’t let go,” he murmurs, feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier as the seconds tick pass. No, he doesn’t want to sleep. He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want this to exist as a mere memory when he wakes up.
She complies with a smile, taking his hand and intertwining it with hers, before raising his hand to her lips.
“I won’t. It’s okay, just rest easy for now, Ray. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”
“Don’t go…” he whispers once more. It’s not long before his exhaustion gets the better of him, and the darkness consumes him altogether. He barely registers the comforting squeeze that she offers right before he drifts off into sleep, sleep that eluded him for the past few nights, thinking that he would wake up to find her room empty and her person gone.
This time though, he drifts off to sleep with her scent permeating his senses, her warmth enveloping him and her soft humming of a lullaby in his ears.
And for the first time in forever he thinks, maybe there’s still some hope left that he can cling on to. For now, at least.
A/N: I couldn’t speak or do anything for the past hour after finishing the VN for day 10 right before the branch, and the only thing I could do was write it out, so this was just a spur of the moment thing, hopefully it wasn’t rushed.
I think I need to just… try to focus on something else. Still can’t really function properly.
Summary: The five times you lay your eyes on Bucky.
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: honestly I wrote this on a whim and I kinda love it ???
The first time you lay your eyes on Bucky you’re just starting your late night shift at the diner. Your eyes lock with his as you tie your apron around your waist, blushing as he sends a wink in your direction.
It was Friday night, which meant it was busy with intoxicated people flowing in from the pub across the street to the diner in search of some greasy food to satisfy their cravings.
You were overwhelmed, serving five tables all at once, trying to get their orders out in a timely fashion while refilling their drinks. It’s not like you meant to do it on purpose, you were just rushing through the orders that your hand knocked over a man’s drink as you took their menu.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” you stumbled out as you grabbed a towel, patting down the table before grabbing the now empty cup from it’s position on it’s side, a rough hand catching your wrist, “you better be gettin’ me a new one for free,” the man spat in your face aggressively before pushing you harshly away from the table making you stumble.
Tears formed in your eyes as you mumbled out an another apology, being cut off by an unfamiliar voice halfway through, “that’s no way to treat a lady,” the voice barked behind you, but it didn’t make you cower, it comforted you.
“And if you’ve got a problem with her you best be comin’ to me first,” whoever was behind you spoke again making the man nod his head before apologizing to you repeatedly.
You quickly walked away behind the counter, footsteps following you as you finally looked up to see Bucky’s concerned eyes ghost over your face, “he didn’t hurt ya, did he doll?” He asked in a gentle voice, nothing like he sounded just seconds ago.
Tears had spilled past your eyes and onto your cheek as you nodded, unable to form a sentence, still in shock and completely overwhelmed, “I promise he won’t be botherin’ you no more,” Bucky said again, a smile appearing on your face as he wiped away a stray tear.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you croaked as he let out a small chuckle, “anytime, doll,” he winked before he made his way out of the diner, a small group of men following him as they got onto their bikes, engines roaring to life.
Your eyes met Bucky’s one more time through the glass as he did a small salute with his fingers before riding away into the night leaving you with butterflies in your stomach and a hurricane of thoughts in your mind.
The second time you’d seen Bucky was walking home after a horrible date, your arms crossed over your chest as you kicked a couple of stray rocks and twigs with your heel clad shoes, not caring if they were getting scuffed all the while mumbling about how much of a prick your date was.
“Rough night?” A voice brought you out of your thoughts as you turned to your left to see Bucky leaning against his bike, arms crossed over his chest as his leather jacket and black jeans hugged every muscle.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” you chuckled dryly as you stood on the pavement in front of Bucky, “Lemme guess,” Bucky smirked as he straightened out his posture, “all talk no action sorta guy?” He guessed as you dropped your head, chuckling, “how’d you guess?” You asked almost rhetorically as Bucky shrugged his shoulders, “lucky guess,” he said as he moved to grab a helmet.
“How ‘bout I give you a ride home?” He suggested, holding out the helmet to you as you thought it over, “why not,” you shrugged before Bucky got on his bike, you following his actions as you loosely wrapped your arms around his torso, “you’re gonna have to hold on tighter than that, doll,” he chuckled as you tightened your grip on him as his engine roared to life once more.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said, passing his helmet to him as he smiled, “it was my pleasure, darlin’,” he said before you both fell into a sort of awkward silence, “well, I should get going,” you said as he nodded his head, “yeah for sure,” he said but you didn’t move.
You turned around taking one step before turning around hastily walking over to Bucky, giving him a kiss on his cheek, “thanks again,” you whispered as a blush crept over your cheeks, “like I said, anytime, doll,” he said, his breath fanning over your face from your close proximity.
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers moved a strand of hair behind your face, “better get home before your parents start to get worried darlin’,” he whispered as you nodded, practically skipping up the steps to your home.
The third time that your eyes landed on Bucky was when you were grabbing the mail on a Sunday morning, fluffly robe, cat pj pants, and koala slippers. Your heart kicked as his eyes landed on yours, a smirk making its way onto his face.
You cursed yourself for stepping out of the house in the state you were in, hoping that Bucky would continue to mow the neighbours lawn instead on striking up a conversation with you.
Luck was not on your side as Bucky jogged up to you, smirk not faltering.
“Mornin’ stranger,” he chuckled as you grabbed the multiple envelopes from your mailbox, “mornin’ Buck,” you giggled as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest, the tank top he was wearing left little to the imagination.
“You mowing lawns now?” You teased as he chuckled, “Mrs. Braverman needed a strong, handsome fella to help her out,” he winked as you rolled your eyes, “then get back to work, Barnes,” you said walking back towards your front door.
“I sure will, kitten,” he shouted back as you sighed knowing you had just gotten a knew nickname from him, “never again,” you mumbled to yourself, stepping inside the house, swearing to throw out those dreaded pyjama pants.
The fourth time you saw Bucky was when you walked passed an ally hearing someone groan in pain as you did. You told yourself that you should just ignore it, that it wasn’t a good idea to get mixed up with whoever’s business it was.
That was until you heard a man snicker, “should’a thought twice ‘bout challengin’ me, Barnes.”
You took a deep breath mustering up as much courage as you could before venturing into the alley, your heels clacking along the pavement, echoing so much that it got the men’s attention.
Bucky was on the ground, face bloodied as three men stood over him, “what’re you doin’ here, little lady,” one of the men snickered, coming closer to you. He reeked of body odour and whiskey, almost making you sick to your stomach, “let him go,” you said sternly, eyes flickering over to Bucky’s whose were pleading for you to just run.
“Or what?” They taunted as you rolled your eyes, “you really wanna beat up a lady? Go ahead,” you smirked as all the men snarled before brushing past you, “you’re lucky your girl saved you, Barnes,” they spat, “next time you won’t be lucky,” they barked before leaving the alley.
“Are you crazy!” Bucky gasped as he jumped up, slightly limping towards you, “don’t you ever do that again, ya hear me, doll?” He said, hands cupping your face as his desperate eyes searched yours.
“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” you whispered, his thumb rubbing over your cheeks as he closed his eyes, shaking his head, “let’s get out of here,” he said as you nodded. You wrapped your arm around his torso as he wrapped his around your shoulder for support before you made it to your house.
“Sit,” you commanded as he did what he was told, sitting on the covered toilet as you grabbed a bunch of medical supplies, “you’re lucky my parents are doctors,” you joked as you began cleaning his face, “that I am,” he mumbled, watching your concentrated expression as you moved on fixing him up.
“There,” you said, throwing the last piece of bloodied tissue in the trash, “all done,” you smiled as Bucky examined his face in the mirror, “you’re real good at this, sure you don’t got anyone else to practice on?” He half-joked as you chuckled, “I’m a fast learner,” you smiled as he brushed some of your hair behind you ear, cupping your jaw with his hand.
“Thank you,” he mumbled as your eyes fixated on each others. Everything around you seemed to still as Bucky slowly leaned in, until his lips were just inches from yours.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tippie toes as you closed the space between the two of you, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss, Bucky’s free hand pulling you closer to him.
“You’re very welcome,” you winked as you pulled apart, leaving Bucky’s head spinning.
The fifth time you saw Bucky he was stood outside the carnival entrance, flipping a coin as he leaned against the wooden fence, eyes searching for your own. The second they met yours he dropped his coin and pushed off the fence to embrace you in a hug.
“You came,” he said, awestruck by your presence, “I told ya I would,” you said, wrapping your arms around his torso as he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you inside.
It took weeks of convincing, but you had finally agreed on going on a date with Bucky. You were hesitant, not because you didn’t like him, but because your parent’s would surely have heart attacks if they found out you were going out with the town’s bike gang leader.
“I’m, uh, really happy you’re here,” Bucky said shyly as he intertwined his fingers with yours, a blush creeping up onto his cheeks, “is the infamous Bucky Barnes blushing?” You teased, tilting his chin up with your index and middle finger.
“Am not,” he said defensively, pulling you towards the ferris wheel, “I’m just a little cold,” he tried to cover up as you giggled, “whatever you say,” you teased as he wrapped his arms around your torso.
“It’s so beautiful,” you said in awe as the ferris wheel reached the top, “not as beautiful as you, doll,” Bucky quipped as you hid your face in the crook of his neck in a desperate attempt to hide your own blush.
“Oh is the infamous [Y/N] [Y/L/N] blushing,” Bucky mocked your previous words as you narrowed your eyes at him, “you’re lucky you’re cute,” you said as he pulled you closer to him, “ditto,” he mumbled against your lips before pressing them in a passionate kiss making your toes curl.
“You should sneak out more often,” Bucky chuckled as you whimpered at the loss of his lips against yours, “less talking more kissing,” you mumbled before threading your fingers through his hair as he happily pressed his lips against yours again.
Needless to say it was a bit difficult to keep your hickey’s covered from your parents as they scolded you.
Thank God for fall or else your parents would be livid about the marks on your thighs.
So imagine if Neil had a sibling he didn’t know existed. Just hear me out okay.
((this post seriously got away from me but I am definitely 100% not sorry))
He’s kidnapped and dragged to his dads house and they’re standing there ready to hack him piece from piece and Nathan calls for his guard upstairs and down comes this 10 year old with Lola’s hair and Nathan’s eyes and a set of bruises on her face and Neil just FREEZES.
(It could be a brother but I’m sticking with sister- you’ll see why)
And Neil doesn’t know WHY Nathan is bringing this kid - that looks like him- downstairs to watch a gruesome murder but she looks completely unsettled when she sees Neil and his half destroyed face. And she looks like she wants to step forward but the guard holds her back.
Nathan is rambling about her watching because she needs to know what would happen if she crosses him and Neil is so angry he can’t listen. He just keeps staring at her hoping that his expression is doing anything to tell her it’s okay, it’s okay, don’t be afraid, it’s okay. She starts crying as soon as Nathan is telling Neil what Lola is going to do to him.
Sooo, I never thought I would ever make this kind of post but here we are. I still can’t believe it. This is the story of how my biggest dream, meeting Taylor Swift got true. I met her at the Secret Sessions for her Album reputation in London. I am not going to talk about the event in general. It’s called the “secret” sessions. But what I am going to talk about is how I personally met Taylor. So I walked through the door of the room she was in and when she saw me she shined so bright and came up to me saying “heeeeeeey!!” and then we hugged so thight. Like it was not one of these “polite” hugs, we almost ran into each others arms. And when she hugged me she said something that sounded like “Marleen”, my name. But I am not really sure if she really said it. I don’t know if she said but but from her face when she saw me I knew she recognized me somehow. She looked at me and my sister and said “you guys are so pretty!” and I said “thank you so much!” She hugged my sistser chatted a little bit with her (kinda about reputation so I will not tell you what they chatted about) and she gave her an high five. She turned to me then and I said “I totally know what I am going to listen to the next few months!” and she was like “YEEAH” making these really cute dance moves and then I awkwardly made them too and said I already see myself driving my care like *making car driving + singing* moves. She asked us “So what is your favorite song?” and we were like “uhhmmmm, I don’t ehevn know they’re all so good maybe *insert song name on november 10th here*” and she got really happy about that. Then we took your picture and I just hugged her and she leaned her head to mine and, as you see on the picture, I literally felt and saw her curls falling down on my face. After we took the picture I looked her into the eyes again and said “I love you so much” and she made this really lovely and cute face and was like “ohhhhh” and then we hugged again really warm and tight. The moment I hugged her everything on this world that ever hurt me was gone. Everything was perfect the way it was. When we left, I was almost out of the room, I turned around and said “… and SEE YOU ON TUMBLR” and she was like “YEAH! with a bright smile in her face.”I still can’t believe my biggest dream finally got true. Taylor is so kind and caring to everyone.
@taylorswift : Thank you so much for inviting me! This has been the best day of my life and I will never forget it in my whole life. I have been on your side since 2008, when I was 12 years old. I have been to your concerts in oberhausen, berlin and cologne, and supported you through every phase of our lifes. I see you as my best friend. You have always been by my side, you might know that from the past few years since you’ve been following me on tumblr but way before that I loved you as much as I do now.I promise, I will tell my kids and grandkids about you and how you inspired me to be the person I am. I will forever stay on your side and defend you, no matter what. I will always keep that day you wanted to meet me too in my mind. Thank you for making me and so many other people so happy. I feel special because of you!
@taylornation thank you so much for everything!! You guys were so nice and planning this event must have been a lot of work. You truly did a great job!!!
A big theme featured in this season for me was ‘choice’, which seemed to be at odds with the symbolism that the past is perhaps cyclical and echoes into the present. For me, the moment when Ralph openly defies his parents and declares his love for Princess Carolyn is a direct parallel to the finale when Hollyhock chooses to keep Bojack in her life. Both PC and Bojack have been damaged by past experiences: Bojack has never had any positive or healthy relationships with family members and PC has never dated anyone who really cared about her and wasn’t an asshole. In both scenes, we see their first reaction is surprise. Neither character expects to be chosen or wanted, they’re so hardened by past hurts that to hear someone choose them for who they are, or despite who they are, is shocking. In this scene, PC is thinking that the past is repeating, another relationship has failed and she is going to be alone. Only for Ralph to wholeheartedly choose her over his family and to blast her past experiences out of the water. In their respective moments we see a prolonged focus on the emotions flashing across their faces. And for once we see them both truly and purely happy.