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covencupid · 1 year

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I Want You (The Cabin Story) : Chapter Two

Y'all I'm sorry for the delay! I rarely get a three-day weekend, so I was stoned and shlumped the whole time. Really, I do my best work (writing) while I'm supposed to actually be working (employment). I'm also realizing I maybe took too fat a rip before work. It's ok I work from home. :)

Danny's had his eye on you. He's been finding himself enjoying the times he interacts with you a little too much. He's got to get you out of his system. A little house call. Once that's done it'll be easier for him to go for the kill. Right?

Pairing: Danny Johnson X Fem!Reader. Use of gendered language.

TW/CW: The usual (stalking, manipulation, threats of violence, actual violence) gore, descriptions of torture, corpses, and murder. Psychological horror, child murder (imma need you to hold your judgement on this one, it's not what you think, but it's also not good), hallucinations, descriptions of visual hallucinations.

Tags will be updated as needed, but to be honest I kinda forgot what I put in this.

When I said you just kinda roll with being kidnapped, this is what I meant.

Your Place // The Cabin // The Woods

~I Want You~

~Chapter Two: The Cabin~

When you awoke you became aware of the restraints at your wrists and ankles at the same time that you noted that you were in a very different room. Your feet were bound at the ankles and your hands were tied behind your back. Your bed had turned into what was easily a California King. It felt like an island in the dimly lit room. A soft, dark green comforter made your awkward position a little more comfortable. You rolled over onto your side to survey the rest of the room. You could make out a dresser on the far wall with a mirror above it. To your left there was a writing desk stacked with books, journals and loose paper. There was a window to the left of the desk and on the other side of it, meeting the corner wall, was a low bookshelf near the bed. You could see a book that had been plucked from the shelf sitting on top next to a little figure of a rabbit, carved from wood. You tried to glean as much detail of the small sculpture as you could in the low light. You must've been looking so intently, so reverently that you hadn't noticed him come into the room until he spoke.

"You like that one huh?" Your head whipped around so fast you flopped on your back. The Ghostface creeped forward, giving a short little exhale through his nose as he picked up the rabbit carving. He turned to lean over you, wiggling the figure in your face. "Ya know, there's a story there, but it wouldn't play well with your little bunny sensibilities." You didn't have a chance to raise a question before he popped it on the nightstand and jumped into bed, causing you to wobble around a bit until he grabbed you by the waist to face him. He was leaning on his side, propped up by his elbow. "Well, how do you like the place?" He sounded excited and that made you very nervous.

"I- it's nice, it's a nice room. Where are we?" You wanted to be home. You wanted to be anywhere that assured your safety and into the lion's den is decidedly not so.

"We are in my cabin. Our little love shack, if you will."

You blinked at him. "What? When can I go home?"

Baby there is no “going home”, but you can think of this as one until your final home in the ground. “Where’s the fun in putting limits to our time here? Let’s just let this play out.” He booped your nose.

“Are you going to leave me tied up the whole time?” You wiggled around to emphasize your restraints.

“Come on, babe. Give me some credit, but I need to be sure you won’t run before I start being a gentleman.”

You begin to plead your case immediately. “I won’t run, I promise. I’ll stay here. I promise I won’t go anywhere you don’t tell me to, I swear. I’ll do what you want, please.” Being bound in front of him, you felt far more vulnerable than in his grasp. Being in his hand felt oddly reassuring. Being presented before him felt distant, like a specimen on a slab. You could feel the tears building up. You looked at him like he was the god of your tiny life, in a way he was. Looking at him like that, it imbued a sense of power into Danny that was so unlike the power he held right before snuffing out a life. You handed him a loaded gun.

The girl delivered her promises with more veneration than others had recited prayers at his feet before their final moments. Her eyes were wide with fear and maybe a little bit of hope. He’d love to see those pupils get blown out as he fucks into her. Watch as her gaze locks onto his, as she recites her pretty promises to him. He would untie her, but he can’t have her thinking she can just bat her eyelashes and tell him what he wants to hear for her to get her way. He reached his hand out to stroke her hair, his thumb reaching down to wipe tears on her cheek.

“Don’t feed me any promises you don’t plan to keep.” He gripped the back of her head shoved it back down onto the bed. “I’ll untie you.” He gave her shoulder a shove so that she was flat on her belly. He straddled her, sitting on her legs. One hand ran up and down the length of her arms while the other pulled the hunting knife from its sheath. “But not because you asked, though I’m still gonna hold you to your word.” He sliced through the ropes at her wrists like butter. Her arms sprung out to her side as a sigh escaped her lips. His mind danced back to those lips on his. His hand grazed her back as it made its way up her neck into her hair. His fingers spread out across her head in a way that must’ve felt nice to her because she let out a small moan she tried to hide in the mattress. I’ll have more of that in time.

His fingers tangled up in your hair made your skin prick up and sent little tingles up your spine. Before you could even express any gratitude towards your captor for freeing your wrists, white hot pain seared across your scalp as his fist yanked your head up by your hair. You felt the cool metal of his blade on your neck. His warm breath was in your ear.

“I untie you because I want to, I keep you alive because I want to. You are here at my pleasure and I will not hesitate to let my hand slip if you go back on the promises you swore to me.” His tone was as harsh as his grip. He jerked her head back a bit to punctuate his last remark, “Understood?” Your eyes tried to find him in your periphery.

“Yes, I understand. I Understand.” you gasped out. Satisfied, he pulled the knife back and let your face drop onto the mattress. You yelped and went to prop yourself up by your arms when you felt him tug you down to the foot of the bed. He was dragging you by the rope that bound your ankles. “Ow, hey!” You flipped over to face him, your expression miffed.

“Oh sorry, baby. I can leave these be if you prefer?” He tapped at the ropes playfully.

“What, no! You pulled me so hard, I’ll get friction burn.” He laughed, actually threw his head back and laughed.

“You know you’ve really got your priorities screwed up, but it works for me.” He slit the ropes off so fast. The speed of his movement unnerved you, but he was moving up the hand that held your leg before you could think. He was letting your newly freed legs spread enough to let him fit comfortably between you. He was hovering over you and looking down at you like starved dog would a juicy steak. “Sorry baby, let me apologize.”

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding. You had gone from annoyed to flustered at breakneck speed. When your eyes locked with the black holes of the mask you felt your head go fuzzy and your veins run cold. You had always felt that you had some preternatural awareness for what people wanted from you. Yet, trapped underneath him, you still didn't know. You thought he wanted to hurt you, but his hand slowly trailing up your skin made you think otherwise. But he threatened you! You felt the sting of his grip on your head echoing in your memory. Could be that same hand making languid strides up your side. How can the same hand touch you so tenderly after such harsh treatment.

"I don't know what you want from me." You blurted the words out before you could stop yourself. He pulled back for a bit, his hand went up to stroke your cheek. It took everything within you not to lean into his incredibly warm touch. You hadn't even noticed when he took off his gloves. His hand dipped to gently hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I just wanna get to know you, have you get to know me." His tone was cheeky, like he was playing a game he didn't explain the rules for. "How can I get to know you when I don't even know what you look like, I don't even know your name just what everyone calls you."

He let out a little chuckle and bid you to continue "...and that is?" Saying it out loud felt like an entirely different hurdle. You couldn't, it would make it real. Too real, that you are trapped in a cabin with him somewhere you didn't even know. You swallowed when you felt his grip on your chin tighten. "Say it." He was firm. No room for arguments.

"Ghostface"

Danny was stalling. Though he did like hearing how the words came out a breathy whisper. He wants her to know his name, to say it over and over until it's the only word she knows. He was debating whether to gamble his luck with her. Letting her know these things shifted the power in to her hands. She could run, she could tell anyone she could all about him. What could she say? Realistically, where could she go? She'd wander the woods for miles before she'd ever encounter another person. She's not exactly a survivalist. She wouldn't last. She needs me to stay alive. He tried to weigh the risks rationally, but his growing lust for the soft creature he had caught in his trap made it all the more difficult. He could tell her his name. Not much that cops can do with "Danny." There it was again, the doe-eyed expression.

"My name is Danny. Good for you to know what you're gonna be screaming out later." She looked at him like he dropped a dead rat at her feet.

"What- I'm not- why would I?" Her features twisted into something resembling disgust but without the true repulsion behind it.

Hmm maybe I like it when you play dumb. He inched down so that the tip of her nose touched the mask. He wanted the barrier between them gone. He wanted to feel her skin on his, to lock eyes with her while he touched her and see her face change with pleasure. But if he takes it off it seals her fate, there will be no hope for her outside his grasp. If she knows his face, she can never leave this place. She could never leave him. She'd have to stay here, with him, or else she'd have to die. Can't have anyone knowing his identity. It's merciful, really. A good deed. Keeping the girl alive. She should be grateful. Feeling his resolve break, he tore off the mask. Seeing her clearly like this only solidified his plan.

"I can show you exactly what I mean." His lips crashed into hers. She can never leave.

He didn’t let you think, he never let you think. He just did as he wished, took you where he wanted to, held you how he wanted to. The taste of his mouth, almost bitter, like dark chocolate. It made your head swim. You already felt unsteady and now you are scrambling to hold on to anything to make you feel grounded. The only place you found that stability was against the chest of the man that held you in place. Your hands grabbed onto the soft fabric of his black hoodie. His hands were in your hair again, but this time holding you tenderly, gently weaving out his hands from your locks to avoid tangling. One hand reached down to your neck and gave it a light squeeze. You couldn’t help the little moan you made into his lips. It fueled him further. You felt his other hand reach down between your thighs. You closed tried to close them out of instinct, but you only tightened the grip your legs had on him. You pushed at his chest.

“No-wait.” You took a moment to catch your breath. Being able to actually get a look at him now you felt even more flustered. In a way, you can expected him to be ugly. A face worth hiding. Instead you found yourself avoiding those dark, sleepy eyes that felt like they saw right through you. He was handsome in a slightly rugged way. His hair was black and cropped shirt, but you could see the hints of a curl to his hair. He licked his lips. He wore an impish little smile. You could see a scar on his bottom lip and another splitting the end of one eyebrow. They looked old. He had light stubble about this jaw. You wondered what he would look like with a full beard. How it would be like to kiss him with it.

“You know I won’t tell anyone you put out on the first date. It’ll be our little secret.” He gave you a wink. You wanted to strangle him again.

Danny enjoyed every second he watched her struggling to form words. It was so easy to work her up.

“No that’s- I’m not- First of all I don’t.” She looked downright offended.

“Why not, I do.” Danny interjected. He savored how she blushed in response.

“Well congrats, but I’m not just going to let you fuck me when I don’t know the first thing about you other than that you are very wanted by police.”

Oh, she wants a connection first. How cute. “So I tell you my favorite color and then you let me see if it matches your panties?”

The girl huffed. “Nice try. Are you from here?”

Danny let out a hearty laugh. “Be a little less obvious with your detective work, babe. What do you want my mom’s maiden name too?” The girl gripped the hem of her shorts.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just-” tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “I mean fuck! Can you blame me for wanting to get to know the man that wants to fuck me?” The tears began to flow freely, at first slowly falling down her cheeks until they turned in small sobs. Fuck. This isn’t what Danny wanted. He wanted her screaming and crying, but from the sheer bliss of being fucked to stupidity, not from a lack of connection with her captor. Fix it, fucker. Danny scooted closer to her on the bed where she had shrunk into herself.

“Hey, hey. Baby, come here.” He pulled her into his lap and held her head close to his chest. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as he cooed into her ear. “Ya know this was my grandpa’s cabin first. My mom’s dad. She would bring me here in the summer to visit. He taught me about woodcarving the last summer I came to visit. I spent my summer learning how to carve out that little bunny.” And when I came home and showed my old man what I learned he told me he would show me “the only right way to carve a rabbit” and dragged me out into the woods. Just me and him, he had looked down at me and told me he was going to show me how to build a trap. When the scared little thing fell into one of my newly built traps he handed me his knife. He talked me through it. He didn’t like the sloppy job I did with the first one so he made me do it again “until I can see the confidence in your cut”. It was four in the morning until he was satisfied.

The girl sniffed. “Have you made others?”

“I never really picked it back up.” Always had something else to carve. She blinked at him and turned to look at the bunny carving on the nightstand.

“But it’s good! And you did that as a kid?” Danny reached over to pick up the bunny and pass it to her. Her eyes lit up. She turned it around in her hands as she admired his work.

“Yeah, heh. Not exactly a masterpiece-”

She cut him off, “What no! It’s really good, I know I couldn’t even do this as an adult.” She was smiling, it made his heart rise in his throat. He wanted to elicit more smiles from her. He wanted, more than for her to feel better, to be the reason she felt good. Holding her in his lap, he could smell her hair. A mix of cherry scented shampoo and her own scent. It was intoxicating. He want to breathe all of her in, to fall asleep with that sweet scent tucked under his chin.

“I could show you how. I think. I could show you the basics.” Her whole face lit up like Christmas.

“Really? To make a bunny?” He let out a small chuckle.

“A bunny for a bunny. We can start tomorrow.” She gave him a look. He couldn’t decipher it until she kissed him. It tasted sweeter than ever before.

Maybe this was the beginnings of insanity. You had to be losing it. You had always heard of instinct kicking in just in time for people to react in life threatening situations. You doubted the capabilities of your ancestors if your instinct was to kiss your captor. But you didn’t feel threatened, not anymore at least. Being in his arms was comforting. It unnerved you how easily you fell into them. How soothing you found his touch. It felt right. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. You reached back to place the bunny on the nightstand without breaking the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands held your waist. One hand went up into his hair. You were growing to like the taste of his mouth, maybe he smoked. Your legs spread at either side of his lap. As you leaned into the kiss you felt him react to your touch. He was getting hard. No doubt ready to continue what he had started. It felt so wrong before, but now? Even though you thought you were going against all logic, it just felt so right. Maybe you wanted him to go further. You felt his hand come up your sides. You wanted him to reach up your shirt. Instead, he got you by your shoulders and gently pushed you back.

“You should sleep. It’s been a long night. I’ll bring you water.” Before you could protest he got off the bed and left the room, leaving you hot and bothered alone. When he came back with a glass of water you tried to make eye contact with him. You wanted to talk to him, to apologize for whatever way you overstepped. You started to speak but he cut you off, “Rest up, we got a date tomorrow.”

You awoke to him, Danny, bringing in bags of clothes, your clothes. "What are you doing?" You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you pulled yourself out of bed.

"I want you to wear something nice, but I wasn't about to chauffer you back and forth to let you get ready. There's a bag in there with your bathroom stuff. Makeup, soaps, perfume, stuff."

You walked over to him and sat down by the bags, rummaging through their contents. "Where? You just dumped them into a garbage bag?" It would've been a thoughtful gesture, but your things had been transported like he was evacuating for a hurricane.

"Oh I'm sorry, princess. I should've taken my time, packed 'em with care, maybe say hi to your neighbors while I load up your precious cargo?" You shot him a look. You were annoyed at him, but in the end grateful. He's bringing you your things. He's not planning on killing you anytime soon. You are still alive, and you were grateful.

The little miffed expression she put on gave way to a soft look in her eyes. "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

Danny gave her a little smirk. "Yeah well, you can thank me later." He winked which caused a slight blush to rise in her cheeks.

"What are we going to do anyway?"

Eager aren't we. "I'm not ruining the surprise, sweet cheeks. Have a little patience, pick out a nice dress." Danny went for the door. "Breakfast is ready."

She looked surprised. "There's a kitchen?" Danny raised an eyebrow at her.

"This isn't a shack, babe. You don't have to shit in the woods either."

She scoffed, "Well how was I supposed to know? I haven't left this room." Danny opened the bedroom door with a flourish and extended his hand out graciously, inviting her to take it.

"Then let me give you the grand tour." Her face lit up. She hurried to her feet to take his hand.

"Oh, why thank you, sir." Oh? I think I like that. Sir.

You wrapped your arm around his upper arm as he guided you through the rest of the moderately sized cabin. It had no frills. Aside from the bedroom and the small bathroom connected to it, the rest of the cabin was laid out in a single room, an open floorplan. There was a small kitchenette on the far wall, the back door sitting next to it. There was a little breakfast nook in the upper left corner of the room. The sunlight peeking through made the scene look dreamy. There was an old, worn-in couch by the front door, facing the breakfast nook. A large bookshelf sat perpendicular to the couch. It was filled to the brim and stacked in the gaps between the shelves and the books as well. A dark rug pulling together the cozy little spot. There was not much else in terms of decoration. A few gardening tools hung near the back door. A simple coat rack stood by the front. Danny walked a bit ahead of you to stand in the center of the room. He extended his arms out at his sides, a showman.

"Well, this is it. What'd ya think?"

Danny didn't expect her to look so impressed. He might as well had shown her the Taj Mahal.

"Wow. You know, I've never been in a cabin. But they always looked so cozy. You said your grandpa lived here?" She walked right by him to his bookshelf, tilting her head as she eyed the titles.

"Yeah, he was a bit of a hermit, hated most people except for my mom and me." She was looking at him now.

"What about your dad?" Danny wanted to talk about something else now.

"They didn't really mesh." Danny remembered begging his mother to let him stay past the summer. "No, Danny you have to go back to school." his mother had reminded him, dragging him back to the car. If he couldn't get her to see reason he could make it as difficult as possible for her to get him in the car. He made himself go dead weight. "I don't wanna go! I don't need to go to school, poppy said he learned at home and not school!" His mother looked exasperated at the sky. "Poppy is from a different time. He learned at home because his parents were very strict." Danny pouted up at her. "Dad is very strict, so I should learn here." He kicked at the ground while his mother tried to hoist him up. "Daniel. Enough." Danny's mother sat at his level. "Sweetie please, if we're late back your father will want to know why." She didn't need to say more. Danny peeled himself off the ground with a groan. His mother brushed the leaves from his back. He hated having to leave. He didn't know it yet, but it would be the last time he was allowed to visit poppy's cabin. Last time he'd see it again until he learned that he had passed and left the cabin to him the year he turned nineteen.

You felt the air had shifted in the room. The change was almost imperceptible, but you noticed the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly. He was there with you, a tight smile on his lips, and he was somewhere unreachable. Unaware, you granted him mercy.

"So when did you make it your own?" He snapped back into reality. Back to you.

"Not until I came back from the military. Only place to come back to really. No rent so, it was just convenient." This took you by surprise.

"You were in the military? How long?"

He sucked in his teeth a bit, "A stint after high school. Paid for college." You eyed him, squinting.

"So where are your dog tags? Don't you get those?" Danny exhaled sharply through his nose.

"They're somewhere, not here. Not about to traipse around with a chain that has my government name. That'd be a goldmine for detectives." You rolled your eyes.

"So you never wear them." He looked at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"No. I don't. But it seems like you're real interested in them, so if you wanna see them dangle on your tits when we fuck, I can make an exception." You slapped his arm playfully.

"That is not why I was asking. I just thought they were a big deal." Danny went to get the percolator off the stove.

"Not for a man like me." He looked at you again, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

After your breakfast, Danny showed you the back of the cabin. A patch of worn out ground made a small back patio. Danny sat you on a log stool.

"Ok wait here, I'll be right back." He hadn't told you why he wanted to show you the outside. You had figured, being captive and all, the outside wouldn't be a feature he'd like to advertise. You heard his bootsteps getting further away. You heard the sound of something heavy. Your head whipped around. He didn't say not to look. He was setting a short log onto another considerably large one. He was holding an axe. In a flash, he struck down, splitting the log with a small grunt. You saw the muscles in his arm tense. They were soft, almost hidden, built over the grueling physical labor of his work, his true profession. He lazily discarded one half to the side. The ease of his movements made your insides flutter. The off white crew neck shirt he wore fit snug, tucked into his black pants. He split a half even further vertically and then once again horizontally. Sensing an audience he cocked his head to you and gave you a cheeky grin. He plucked the last two pieces in his hand, giving them a wiggle out to you. He swiped the rest of the pieces off the large log with his axe before burying the blade into the wood. He sauntered over to you.

"Enjoyed the show, did ya?" He tossed one half to you. You catch it awkwardly midair.

"I wasn't looking- like that. And anyway, you didn't say I couldn't!" You could feel the heat creeping up your neck.

"Sounding a little defensive there. Don't ya think, bunny?" You scoffed, too hard you were realizing.

"I'm not defensive! I can't be defensive, there's nothing to be defensive about." You felt stung with shame.

"Hey, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty about liking what you see." He winked.

"Ok, well if this is what your lessons are going to be like, I'll pass." You went up to leave, but his hand gripped your shoulder. It wasn't harsh, but it was unshakable.

"Wait." You stared at your shoes. You couldn't meet his eyes. He tipped up your chin. "C'mon baby, I'm just teasin'."

Just show her how to work the knife. Danny pulled a small folding knife from his pocket and presented it to the girl. She just stared at it before he made mocking little growling noise while crawling the knife through the air towards her. She looked appalled up at him. He snickered.

“Oh come on. It’s not gonna bite you.” Her hand reached up timidly to pick up the knife. She held it elegantly, but unsure. Danny grabbed the knife by the blade and pulled it out of her hand in a blink of a moment. “I shouldn’t be able to do that.” Danny said flatly at her. He exhaled sharply, pointing the handle out to her. She grabbed the knife, but he held onto the blade when she tried to pull it back. She pulled a little harder, he held a little tighter. The knife hung suspended, unmoving. “That’s the grip I want you to have.” He remarked before letting go. She wordlessly adjusted her grip. Better. “Alright,” he pulled his own small knife from his pocket, “hold the wood you carve with the same grip. You slip, you slice a finger, my first aid does the best it can.” Her eyes went wide again. “Babe, you’re working with knives, you’re going to have to get comfortable with a small amount of danger. The risk for the reward.” She let out a steady exhale. The morning sun illuminating her in a halo of light. She was adjusting her grip. The curve of her neck sloping down to her shoulders invited his eyes to scan further. Following the soft turns of her body he looked down at the curve of her breasts peeking from the top of her tank top. He swallowed. “Ok, so you see how I hold it against the would here? You’re gonna apply steady pressure-” Danny was making a slow glide into a corner of the wood when she cut him off.

“How will I know that I’m carving out a right amount for the bunny?” Danny looked at her, amused.

“Slow down, Michelangelo. You crawl before you walk. I said I’d teach you the basics. You don’t even know how to hold the knife without shaking, so let’s tackle the things in our skill set first.” She looked back at him, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “Don’t pout at me. I could be teaching you my old man’s way. Could tell you I wanna come back to a job done right and leave you here to figure it out.” She looked stung, but she also gave him a look he couldn’t quite decode. Not sadness, maybe recognition. Either way, lost on Danny.

Danny had a boy’s confidence and the power of a man’s body. He wore his exterior well. Proud, sure of himself. He knows exactly where he falls on the food chain. He knows what to say without thinking. He sleeps easy knowing he will never be prey. Not anymore. His features looked stern. Tired. Frustrated with you. You felt a needy pit growing in the center of your chest. You wanted him to look at you fondly, proud. You tried to make a cut, smooth and confident into the wood. Danny’s knife had glided through the wood piece like butter, with a soft grinding sound. Your blade dug into the wood at a harsh angle, stuck. You looked back up at him, nervous.

“It got stuck, I’m sorry I don’t know how- I tried to do it like you did, but you made it look so easy and-” he cut off your appeal.

“Alright alright.” He tossed his chunk of wood out to the pile by the cabin and popped the knife into his pocket. “Before you start cryin’, I was expecting that for your first cut. It’s fine. Look, I’m gonna show you.” He walked behind you, leaned over and held your hands in his. You felt his breath, hot, kissing a small patch of your temple. You felt your face go fuzzy. He was working your hands like a doll. He moved you right where you needed to be. He knew exactly what you needed. Where you needed more pressure, and where you need a softer touch. He had capable hands. Capable of brutality and ecstasy with the same feverish intensity. You smelled the hint of coffee on his breath. It mixed with the warm leather musk of his skin and the cigarette he had after breakfast. You leaned back ever so slightly into his chest. You didn’t just let him play with your arms. You moved within his movements with your own force behind them. You trusted his direction, in the knowledge of his hands. You put your trust directly in his hands. His lips grazed the shell of your ear. A voice low, admiring “Good job. You’re on your way, bunny.” As soon as the words hit the inside of your brain it triggered a craving. You wanted him to sing your praises. You wanted to make him happy.

Danny pressed his thumbs onto the tops of your own. The one supporting the knife applied a little more pressure. Your cuts were becoming more confident and smooth. He loosened the pressure so that his hands merely shadowed your own. It allowed you to show him what you learned, without the push of his hand. You heard him hum approvingly as you knife cut smoothly through the wood. You felt the gentle rumble pass through his chest and into your back. It trickled down between your legs.

"There you go. That's very good. See what happens when you listen to me?" He abruptly pulled away leaving you feeling exposed. You wanted his warmth on your back again, arms grazing yours. He seemed to notice. "Don't look so disappointed. You don't need me hovering over you. Besides, I have to get some things ready for tonight. I'll be gone most of the day. Stay inside, don't make a mess." You felt as though you had been emptied. He was leaving you here. You aren't sure why you expected him to take you where he went. You wanted to go with him.

"What do I do?" He gave a wide grin that pushed at his tired eyes.

"C'mon. you don't need me to tell you that. Carve some shit, or read, or fold your clothes, I don't know. Fill up the time until I need you ready at eight." He was already halfway in the door. You followed him, still clutching the oblong carved wood and knife. When you neared him he whipped around and caught your wrist how a lizard would catch a fly. Instant, instinctual. He held the fist that held the knife up to his face and plucked the knife from your hand.

"Actually, I'm taking this. I don't want you getting any ideas." He turned and continued walking without waiting for a response. You quickened your pace to follow after him.

"What did you think I was going to do?" It was accusatory. He held you captive in the middle of the woods and you were hurt that he didn't trust you. You wanted to laugh, maybe it would cover up the sting.

"Oh please, don't act innocent. Leaving a weapon behind for the girl I'm keeping? What kinda man do you take me for?" He popped a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it. He spoke with the filter between his lips, "Besides you can play around with all of Daddy's knives while I'm around." You hated how he flirted with you as he put you back into your place. Back into the place where he wanted you. A doll in box. He's almost out the front door. He blows a plume of smoke out through his nose and plucks the cigarette from his lips. He turns to you at the doorway, cupping your cheek with the hand holding the cigarette, "You know I've gotta supervise you to make sure these pretty hands don't get hurt." He picks up your other hand, holding it up to his lips to give your fingers a delicate kiss. He drops your hand like he had never held it, and turned to leave. Opening the door, he speaks to you without turning to face you. "If I come back and you're not here I will hunt you down these woods like the wild game that you are. I'll find you wherever you are, and I will drag you back here and gut you like a little bunny rabbit using the same knife I taught you with. Tell me you understand." He stood, eerily still. He could probably hear how hard you swallowed and how unsteady your breath sounded.

"I understand, Danny." You saw him straighten a bit.

"Good." He locked the door behind him. You heard his car start up and pull away.

#ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #dbd ghostface x reader #ghostface dbd #danny johnson x y/n #danny johnson smut #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight #Spotify

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imtrashraccoon · 2 months

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Welcome to the Trashcan!

You can call me Tumble or just Raccoon if you want. (I previously called myself Trash but I suppose it could sound a bit mean lol) My icon was made by my friend @snowcoffeee and the background is by me.

I'm a writer and I do take requests between my projects, so if you have an idea, I'd love to hear it!

Feel free to request headcanons, drabble ideas, or just ask questions! I love engaging with you all! (My rules for requests will be under the cut, please read them before requesting anything.)

I have a side blog that I use for reblogging fan art and other cool Undertale stuff. You can follow it if you want but I do get a bit unhinged at times... @imtreasureraccoon

I post most of my longer stuff on AO3 so check that out if you like any of what I post here! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

My Writing Masterlist is here if you want to see everything I've written so far!

My Headcanon Masterlist is here if you want to feel something about my boys!

#anon ask for the asks I've answered so far.

#raccoons drabbles is for my writing projects.

#raccoons headcanons is for my headcanons about the guys I write about.

#raccoons random garbage is for my attempts at art mostly.

#raccoons two cents is for the rare times I post about regular things that aren't Undertale related.

#raccoons future reference stuff is for posts I want to look at again soon.

I will write for any existing Undertale character, preferably those who have been in the fandom for a while or have easily accessible information so I can research them. I usually write Reader inserts (second person pov) but I can write OC's too.

The drabble will be at least 2,000 words but probably less than 3,000 words, depending on how much detail I end up going into.

I will not write:

Smut/graphic sexual content (I know a few of you are minors and I'm not comfortable writing that anyways.)

Anything endangering minors such as graphic violence or anything sexual.

Gore (Blood and injuries is fine, just nothing intense like torture.)

Incest, Sanscest, Papscest, or Fontcest. (You can ship what you like but I don't like any of these and I will not be writing them.)

Obvious kinks (I shouldn't have to list them all here but if they make me squirm, I am not writing them. Liking teeth or claws, pulling hair, or being slightly dominant in a situation are fine though.)

These are basic guidelines and I may add onto them if I realize I forgot anything. As much as it pains me, I cannot write everything and I have the right to reject your request if it makes me uncomfortable.

That said, I will write:

Reader x Character or OC x Character (I would prefer to write F/M as I am a female but I can write gender neutral too.)

Fluff (This is easily my favorite thing to write!)

Spicy (I also love writing this but I'm still new at it so no promises. Sex will be treated as a fade to black if you want that still.)

Frans or Soriel (I do ship these so long as everyone is consenting adults. I may consider other ships but no promises as I don't really ship any other non-canon pairings.)

Angst (I do like writing this, however, I can't promise it will be good. I prefer happy endings but if you want to see a character suffer, I can do that.)

I may also add onto this list if I remember something else.

Have any questions about something not listed here? Please shoot me a message!

I'm doing this for fun but I want you to enjoy the process as well. No promises how long these will take to write as I'm generally pretty busy. I will update these guidelines as needed and unless you don't want me to, I will be posting these requests on my AO3 as well as on here.

Thank you for reading this far if you did! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

#new masterpost #masterlist #undertale

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 2 years

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Talking In Your Sleep

A/N- This was my most recent fic posted when my account got deleted 🥺 it’s another fic from my song fic list, and it’s a bit longer than the others, but i had so much fun writing this!!

Summary- Eddie lets you stay over at his place so you don’t have to go out in the storm, and while you’re sleeping he hears something strange. Something that sounds like his name…

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Mentions of gore

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @hellfirewh0re @paola-carter @whiplaaaaaaaaash @ladyapplejackdnd @thatlonelypieceoftoast @efvyqrs

Words- 2.7k

You sighed as you looked out Eddie’s bedroom window. Pouring rain. More like a thunderstorm to be completely honest, but the wind and the darkness of the clouds made it seem like a hurricane.

“You don’t plan on driving home in that do you?” He asked you from his spot across the bed, his hair lazily tied back behind him as he took one last drag off of the joint the two of you had been passing for the last hour.

You had come over just for another one of your normal hang outs, smoke, talk, maybe watch a movie or two if there was time for it. But of course you forgot to check the weather before leaving the house and didn’t prepare at all for the storm. You groaned as you stood up, lifting the blinds a bit to get a better look outside. The rain was beating down hard on the window, the sky made everything look dark and grey and it was difficult to see even 10 feet in front of you.

“Yeah, i better not. I can always just wait it out though, right? How long is it supposed to rain for?”

“Pretty sure all night, you wanna just crash here tonight? It’s a lot safer, and a lot drier, if you wait until morning,” he looked at the black wristwatch he had on to check the time, “it’s getting kinda late anyways, almost 9:30.”

You jumped as the sky turned white with a crash of thunder. Storms were never something that scared you, but you couldn’t help it if the thunder and lightning caught you by surprise and made you slightly anxious. You turned back and made your way back to your spot next to him on his bed,

“You sure you don’t mind if i stay over?”

“Not at all,” he said with a smile, “pretty sure my uncle is doing an overnight at work so i’m sure he won’t mind.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, his t-shirt lifting up slightly around his torso, giving you a peek of his stomach and the trail of hair that stretched from his bellybutton to the waistband of the sweats he had on.

A gentle blush spread across your cheeks and you quickly looked away to hide it. The two of you had spent tons of time together, but you’d never spent the night at each other’s place before. The thought of it always made you a little curious though. After years of hanging out, being invited to come and watch their DnD sessions for Hellfire, and of course watching Corroded Coffin perform after he snuck you behind the stage at The Hideout, you couldn’t help but have a slow burning crush on the curly haired boy.

He was always so sweet with you, and it was pretty nice to have him be like your guard dog whenever you went out, scaring off other guys from trying to make a move on you. He was the first person to show you how to smoke, you helped him study any time he needed help with school, and overtime as you came to the trailer more and more you were noticing that his room was more put together than usual. Cleaner than you expected it to be.

You were always hoping that someday you’ll be able to be open and honest with him about your feelings, but the friendship you had meant too much for you to ruin with something as silly as having a crush. Recently, it’s gotten much worse than usual. He started appearing in your dreams.

It wasn’t anything abnormal, you’d always see people you knew in your dreams, that’s just how dreams work. But he was popping up more and more, and lately you’ve been having the same reoccurring dream each and every night for the last week.

It was cliché, you were a princess who needed to be saved from whatever fearsome monster your brain decided upon and Eddie was your knight. Every single night he would swoop in and rescue you, fighting off the monsters and sweeping you off your feet in his blood covered armor. But right as you were about to kiss him as a thanks for saving you, like clockwork, your eyes would open and it was morning. Of course you would wake up right before the best part.

But the thought of him coming to save you, his long hair flowing behind him as he fought off the monsters keeping you captive, his strong arms keeping you held tight as he swept you off your feet. God, the thought of him in a shiny suit of armor just made your heart flutter.

He looked around for some extra clothes for you to sleep in, picking up one of his old shirts off of the ground and a pair of oversized sweats from one of his drawers,

“Here, you can change into these. i’ll grab a pillow or something and sleep on the couch. My beds a lot comfier anyways, i’m sure you’d prefer it.” He said with a smile as he handed you the extra clothes, grabbing a pillow from his bed and stepping out into the hall.

As he left, you shut the door behind him, leaving it open just a crack as you pulled off your jeans and quickly changed into the sweats he gave you. They were definitely a bit bigger on you, but they hung comfortably around your waist as you tied up the string in front. You didn’t even notice Eddie peek into his room from the hall, a smirk on his lips as he watched you pull your shirt up over your head to change into the old band shirt he grabbed you. He finally spoke up as he saw you reach behind your back to undo the clasp on your bra,

“Need some help with that?” He said with a laugh, making you jump and cover your chest, rushing to shut his door.

“You pervert! We’re you watching me change?!” You yelled at him from behind the door, hearing him laugh from the other side.

“I was just coming back in to get a blanket, it’s your fault for not closing the door all the way.” You rolled your eyes as he kept laughing to himself, “Just finish changing so i can get it and we can go to sleep.”

You quickly changed into the shirt he gave you after slipping your bra off, tossing your clothes into a clear space on his floor. It was soft, and you couldn’t help but take a deep inhale as you slipped it over your head. It smelled like him. Musky, a little bit of weed, and just a hint of the lemongrass and eucalyptus incense he loved to burn after he smoked. You walked back over and opened his bedroom door, and giggled as he stood there with one hand over his eyes, peeking through his fingers,

“Are you decent?”

You smiled and pulled his hand away,

“I’m fine, you can look, just don’t be weird.”

He smiled as he watched you walk over to his bed, admiring how you looked in his clothes. Though it was just an old shirt and sweats, the fact that it was his clothes covering your figure made him feel… He wasn’t sure exactly how to put it into words, but it was definitely a good feeling, seeing a girl he admired wearing his clothes, about to climb into his bed. He’d be stupid not to try and sneak in next to you, holding you tight all night, the calming rain hitting his windows, giving your body a comforting squeeze each time the sound of the thunder and lightening crashed.

“Eddie, you’re staring.” You said with a giggle. He didn’t even realize he was staring as you climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over you.

“Sorry, just weird seeing someone else in my clothes.”

“Good weird, or bad weird?”

He shrugged, slipping his shirt over his head as he looked around his room for another blanket,

“Good weird i guess.”

The two of you smiled at one another, relishing in the comfortable silence of his bedroom as the rain splashed outside.

You heard another loud crash of thunder outside and jumped, gripping the covers in your hand as your eyes shot to the window, seeing the sky glow a quick white before going back to darkness. Eddie could see how nervous you were, gently shaking under the blankets.

“You want me to stay in here with you?” He asked, sitting at the edge of his bed.

You nodded silently, sitting yourself up and making some room for him next to you,

“Will you just stay in here with me until i fall asleep? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, if you get tied then-“

“I’ll stay.”

He quickly cut you off, assuring you that he’d stay as long as you needed him too. He smiled and climbed in next to you, keeping himself above the covers as you settled into his bed, resting your head onto his soft pillows with a yawn.

You turned onto your side and reached over to turn off the light, your body facing away from Eddie as he carefully lifted up the blanket on his side, making sure to give you some space. He’d give anything to be closer to you, but he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

You shut your eyes and tried your best to think up different scenarios to help yourself fall asleep but with Eddie being so close to you, in his bed, his scent surrounding you, all you could think of was the same dream you’ve been having.

This time it was a giant, fearsome dragon, keeping you hostage inside their cave. Your arms were tied behind your back, your dress torn, your face dirtied with mud and bits of dried blood from all the other knights who met their gruesome fate trying to rescue you. Just as the dragon was slowly making its way back towards you, it made a piercing scream, making you shut your eyes in fear. Peeking through your eyelids, you could see someone standing at the other end of the cave, sword and shield in hand as the dragon approached them. Another knight, here to rescue you and bring you back home, safe and sound. You had witnessed too many of them lose their lives from the merciless dragon. You shut your eyes, not wanting to watch another one of your saviors be gruesomely killed, but you could hear everything that was happening before you.

The dragons loud screeches, the sound of the knights sword clashing with the hard scales, his armor getting scratched and dented from the dragon fighting back. You had heard it too many times before, and you knew within seconds the knight would have his last breath as the dragon finished them off but with one last screech from the dragon and a loud thud, you slowly opened your eyes.

There he was, standing before you, the dragon bleeding from the large gash in its neck from the knight delivering his final strike. His armor was beat up and scratched, his face littered with specks of blood and dirt, his long curly hair had strands that were matted with blood, his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He approached you and cut the ties around your wrists, your arms slung around his shoulders to bring him in for an embrace, one hand reaching to hold his cheek,

“Eddie…” You said quietly, the corners of your lips turning into a smile as his arms reached under your legs and behind your back, carrying you out of the cave and to his fearless destrier to bring you back to your castle.

As he carried you, all you could do was stare up in adoration at him for showing so much bravery and courage for rescuing you from peril. No one had been able to defeat the dreaded dragon that had kept you hostage, and yet he was able to do it so easily. He could keep you safe. He made you feel safe.

Once he was able to carry you back to his steed, he carefully set you down, keeping his arm around your waist as he helped you up, quickly grabbing hold of the reigns as he sat himself in front of you. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tightly, your head rested on his shoulder and the exhaustion from the whole ordeal finally hit you, your eyes slowly closing as you whispered,

“Thank you…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Eddie laid in bed, he rested his head on the pillow next to yours, trying his best to stay up as long as he could to make sure you were fast asleep before him.

He looked over at your still figure next to him, making little noises every now and then as you drifted off to sleep. He sighed and turned over with his back to you, trying to keep himself from wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you so close to him all night to comfort you from the thunder and lightning that had been frightening you. It was difficult, and it was frustrating, but it was what he had to do to keep from leading to an awkward morning.

He heard a few whimpers from you and shut his eyes to try and force himself asleep but he couldn’t do it, not with you so close to him. Just as he was about to give up and make himself pull an all nighter to try and keep from holding onto you, he heard his name softly escape your lips,

“Eddie…”

He sat up in bed, turning himself back to face you, but he didn’t notice that as you slept you had tossed and turned your body to his. You let out a few soft groans and whimpers, and he couldn’t tell if whatever dream you were having was sweet, or a nightmare. He gently placed his fingers onto your shoulder to check if you were awake,

“(y/n)?” He whispered, “You ok?”

You were fast asleep, and he figured out that you must’ve been talking in your sleep from whatever dream it was you were having. But why were you saying his name? Could you have been dreaming about him?

He laid himself back down next to you, facing your body and his eyes wandered over how peaceful your face looked as you slept. So sweet, so calm, so pretty. He watched your lips as you let out a few tiny whimpers and before he had the chance to move any closer to you, you slowly moved yourself forward and closed the gap between your bodies.

He was stiff laying there as your arms wrapped around him, holding onto him as you still slept, not knowing what your own actions were doing to him. As soon as he was certain you weren’t going to let go any time soon, he relaxed himself under your touch, his arms carefully moving around you to hold you gently, not wanting to wake or startle you.

Your touch was comforting to him, soft even as your head rested itself on his shoulder, your chest slowly moving as his hands slowly moved up and down your torso. His lips curled into a smile and his eyes slowly shut, a slow wave of exhaustion finally hitting him as the two of you laid there in one another’s arms. Just as he could feel the faintest bit of consciousness escape him, he heard you whisper once more,

“Thank you…”

He didn’t care if you were actually saying it to him, or whomever it was that you were talking to in your dream, but he knew deep down that you were thankful for everything he had done for you that night.

Letting you stay over, lending you his clothes to sleep in, offering his bed to you and staying with you to keep you comforted from the thunder and lightning as you slept next to him so peacefully.

The next morning was definitely going to be an awkward one, the two of you holding each other so close when the furthest you’ve come to snuggling was holding each other during a particularly terrifying movie. This time it was different. You were holding onto each other so delicately, almost lovingly, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and whispered to you before succumbing to his slumber,

“Goodnight (y/n)…”

_______________________________________________

If you’d like to read more of my work, make sure to check out my masterlist 🥰

#stranger things 4 #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson fic

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yuugisbarber · 1 year

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1, 12, 29, 30 for the AO3 ask meme !

💌!

How many words have you written this year?

A little over 50k! (Based on ao3 stats, it might be a little more since there is everything still in my Google docs) most of which is the royal au haha (30kish as of now?)

12. How many wips do you have in your docs?

6? maybe? not including updates on fics already up. If I include the updates to Royal Au and In Vitro, I would say 8. 1 Phoenixship story, 1 short story, 2 that are apart of a collection... But I want to focus on updating at LEASt 2-4 new chapters of my long fics before I upload anything brand new. So the final number is 4... lol

29. Favorite passage you wrote?

I have two! but I will only post one because it has quite a bit of gore and violence, so I will share my more SFW one.

I haven't actually posted it, but I figure it counts since I wrote it this year. It is when Atem will meet Kisara for the first time, where they connect through Atem's past as a dragon rider.

I can't quite put my finger on why I am proud of it... I suppose it's simplicity grounds me in the scene, and it makes Atem feel like Atem. One thing that (everyone who writes an AU tbh) I especially want to do with Royal Au is nail Atem, despite him being mystified by the very source material, and the AU be an entirely different world. I just feel like this short bit has the sort of energy I want for Atem and Dragon!Kisara in this world.

He never saw Kaiba’s dragon nearer than a league, always a glinting, distant star. Occupied with her own business outside of Seto and the war, he assumed that they could only meet through formal introduction. But here she stood, in the middle of the wood, as regal as he expected. Her nacreous armor gleamed, shifting from white to blue in the light.

≪Exalted One≫ Atem spoke, falling to one knee. There were many stories about her. The coveted white dragon, Kisara. They were of the pickier variety, only choosing a rider every few centuries or so. One of the white dragons notable traits was communication not with the tongue, but with the mind.

A moment passed through the chill. Atem kept his eyes downcast, his head low, in reverence of two lives. The one standing before him, and the one left behind.

≪You need not kneel before me, dragon rider≫

≪ It’s been years since I’ve been called that≫

A partner lost, a partner gained. Such was the business of a warrior prince. Now, as king-at Kaiba's side-- Atem hoped it would be different.

≪Time never erodes that bond, Young King. He is still with you. That is how you can hear me≫

30. Biggest surprise when writing this year?

I think there were two. One (it sounds a bit strange), I have a newfound love for writing horror and creepy things in general. I realized how much I enjoy thinking of unsettling events to happen in my fics and I like working on the prose for it. I'm almost more excited to write the horror I plan for In Vitro than I am for royal au... which leads me to my second surprise.

How much I enjoy writing In Vitro, Ad Astra (Kaiba makes Atem a body fic)

Unlike royal au, I didn't start it with any ambitions.. and it was barely self indulgent. It was really one of those stories that I just... had brainworms for, and I honestly forgot it existed because I was consumed with Royal Au.

But the longer the fic was up, I started to get feedback that (pleasantly) surprised me. Stats wise, it's my "best" Yu-gi-oh fanfiction.

That surprised me because it's rather short (only 7k between 4 chapters) , and I feel that its quality is inferior to what I feel I can write at the moment.

The more I thought about it, I realized the fun I could have with it, and soon enough, I was getting brain worms about it again, and I felt a passion towards the story that I didn't feel before. What was once a one-off story that didn't mean anything to me is now a passion project that I sort of adore conceptualizing, and I will make sure I rise to the occasion and make the story what it was meant to be.

Thanks for the ask!

#barbershop thoughts #yugioh dm #prideshipping #my writing

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spammreviews · 4 months

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THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS OF HARLEY QUINN SEASON FOUR

I found the first two seasons of Harley Quinn to be very fun and occasionally poignant. Season Three had an underwhelming ending, in my opinion, but there were definetly many bright spots.

. However, to me, Season Four has felt a bit…how should I say, unpalletable? Here’s why, put into a nice list because why not.

Sin One: Too much violence, sex, and overall edginess.

This is easily the most bloody and horny season. That’s fine. There's nothing intrisically wrong about blood and horniness. I actually think it kind of works with some episodes, like with the Vegas episode. Vegas is a crazy place and Harley and Ivy on vacation. Fine. But it really started to get annoying after a while. One of the most edgy moments is at the end of Episode Four, the episode with the business conference on the moon, which is kind of horrific. It would be fine if this wasn’t, you know…a comedy, but ending an episode on a bunch of people horrifically dying left a very sour taste in my mouth. Then there’s episode six, the episode taking place after Nightwing's death, which is just a downright miserable string of blood and gore which isn’t funny. Also, what the hell was up with the Jon’s? This is a very progressive TV show, and then we have these weird homophobic stereotypes. Yeah, I get that the Jon's are fantastical non-human beings, but they so clearly molded them from stereotypes, it’s weird.

Also, this season’s incessant horniness gets a bit too much. The jokes about Dick’s ass were fairly funny in the first episode, but by episode six it was just annoying. His coffin having an ass on it just ticked me off.

Two: Too many characters, ideas and plot threads.

Here are all of the characters who appear in multiple episodes in this season: Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Nora, Lex Luthor, King Shark, Joker’s Wife, Joker’s Son, Nightwing, Batgirl, Alfred, Gordon, Terra, LavaGirl or whatever her name is, the other one, Dr. Psycho, Clayface, Captain Cold, Shark King’s children, that Plant Guy, Damian Wayne, Talia-Al-Gul, the Jons, Superman, Mama Nacaroni, and Potato Harley Quinn. And I probably forgot a few. As you can see, I can not remember all of these characters names. There’s also all of the characters who just appear in one episode. The result of this is that there are a bagillion plot threads. We have the love triangle between Nora, Bane, and Captain Cold. We have Harley trying to be a member of the Batfamily. We have Poison Ivy’s business stuff. We have her mentoring The Natural Disasters. We have Joker becoming evil again. We have the investigation of Nightwing’s death. We have King Shark taking care of his children. Some of these plot threads are only a few episodes, but you see what I’m saying. A lot of them stop and then start again, and it’s very hard to keep up.

You might notice throughout this write-up that I have forgotten the names and details of many things. This is not from lack of interest. This is because I am human, and this has been a very convoluted season of TV with so many moving parts, and you don’t know what’s important or not. Also, there’s no breathing room, everything happens all at once, so you can’t soak anything in.

Three: To much “and then” story telling, and no consequences for the characters.

This is probably the biggest problem. In a good story, every event is a consequence of the last event, like dominoes falling. For example, Princess Leia is captured so she sends R2D2 and C3PO to find Obi Wan, so they end up stumbling onto Luke. Sometimes, the consequences of a character’s actions aren’t clear right away. John Mcclane takes off his shoes, and then he gets his feet cut up half an hour later. Thst is good and entertaining storytelling.

Nightwing’s death at the end of episode Five is maybe the worst example of this. It’s just so random. Then, we get stuff like Harley and Ivy time traveling, wich comes out of nowhere and then becomes a pivotal plot point.

We also get The Joker returning to evil because…he’s bored. Sure. And then, he shoots Batgirl. Because why not. That’s another problem. Bad things don’t happen to characters because of mistakes they make. They just happen.

Ivy messes up the plan to depose Lex not because of her own faults, but do to a random accident she had no control over. Then, she does succeed because of some character who I guess previously showed up, but who I don’t remember. In good stories, characters succeed because of skills they have, and they fail due to faults they have. In this season, we’ve had characters succeed and fail do to random luck. In episode eight, there's a scene where Harley and Ivy fall from way up in the air and then they’re fine because uhhh…they just are.

There’s also all of episode six, which is just random event after random event. The Jon’s turn into one giant Jon because why not and then they fight Ivy for reasons.

Sin Four: The clash between episodic and serialized storytelling.

This season doesn’t know if it wants to be a set of episodic stories where every plot is self contained or a serialized story where there’s one whole arc. Now, some shows succeed at mixing these two, just look at My Adventures With Superman. The first three seasons of Harley Quinn this fairly well. However, this season simply doesn’t, at least in my opinion.

This season feels like it keeps going back and forth between serialized and episodic. Episodes five and six build on each other, and then there is episode seven. The main plot of this episode is Haely and Ivy time traveling to the future, which is its own self contained adventure, and then there’s Batgirl’s subplot, which does lead into other episodes…sort of. Then, there’s episode eight, which also has two separate plots. The first is Nora protecting the Legion of Doom building from Lex. The first is important for the series wide arc, and then the Bane one seems to be all in vain.

Also, why does Bane need a character arc? He’s a silly parody character.

Lots of plot points went nowhere, like the Jons. They appear. They’re around for three episodes. Then they’re gone, and they have no real impact on the story. They do lead to issues between Ivy and The Natural Disasters, but then everything’s fine.

It doesn’t help that this show keeps randomly introducing plot threads. At first, it seems like this season will involve Harley and Nightwing learning to get along. Then, Nightwing dies at the end of episode five. That whole character arc they were setting up with him goes nowhere. Then, it seems like there’s gonna be a mystery about his murder. Well, we get a few episodes of that, and then it’s solved.

There’s also the whole Alfred thing. He seemed like such a fun character in episode two, and then Harley seemed kind of bummed out when he got arrested. But, then we see him briefly in episode four, and he’s fine.

I was kind of bored during the whole Ivy golf thing in episode nine because it felt like such a diversion. This season can’t decide what Ivy is doing in this season. She goes from wanting respect from her peers to wanting self gain to wanting to make things right with Harley to wanting to stop the world from ending. As such, we don’t stay with any of these long enough. None of the dynamics, plot threads, and conflicts get enough time for it to be explored.

This season just keeps on changing the dynamics, and the conflicts, and as such, it’s just extremely messy. It’s somehow more disjointed then an episodic story. At least in an episodic story, characters have fairly set dynamics which rarely change. This season plays willy nilly with everything about these characters.

Five: They keep highlighting how little the world makes sense.

I didn’t mind how nonsensical the world-building was in the first three season, because it was funny. However, one of the biggest conflicts of the first couple of episodes is all about Ivy and Harley struggling now that Harley’s a hero, and it just illustrates how little this makes sense. It becomes hard to ignore.

Six: Mean spiritedness

I think one of the reasons why I really disliked Episode Six, the episode after Nightwing dies, was because of how cruel it was, especially towards Batgirl. She goes through all of this emotional damage, and it’s just miserable. This is a very miserable episode.

Also, I get that Nightwing is a fictional character, but if you have such a beloved character in your show, and then you show him as a jerk, tease redemption, kill him off, and then make a bunch of butt jokes at his funeral scene, will then…it will rub people the wrong way. Yeah, he’s not real, who gives a crap, but like, lot’s of people really like Nightwing, it’s not pleasant to see him being treated like nothing but an ass.

Seven: Everything just makes no sense.

Okay, so in Episode Eight, we meet Potato Harley Quinn. She is just like Harley Quinn but overly committed to justice. Because, as we all know, potatoes are famous for their sense of justice.

Joker is evil, but not as evil as he was in Season One, because he was a huge misogynist in that season. Or maybe not. Also, is he still the mayor? Shouldn’t this be a big deal?

Also, the characters just don’t act like people. During the entire plot with Nora, Captain Cold, King Shark, and Lavagirl trapped in The League of Doom Headquarters, everyone kept acting so bizarrely I just grew detached from everything. Oh, and then it ended with Lavagirl blowing up the entire place which somehow didn’t kill all of them. This would be fine if the show was all silliness, but this show also occasionally dabbles in drama. However, this drama all fails because this show just doesn’t care about reality anymore.

I’m fine with plot holes, this series has always played fast and loose with reality, as I previously stated, but this season has simply been too much.

In conclusion, Season Four of Harley Quinn had some fun moments, but these seven main problems ruined the overall experience for me.

#harley quinn

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exhaustedfander · 3 years

Text

Initially, I was going to make the murder Logan commits a lot cleaner, poisoning or something, but I’m nothing if not extra, and I’ve decided to go with something a bit... messier.

#in relation to my upcoming intrulogical oneshot #I forgot how much fun writing a bit of gore can be #exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander

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mara-xx217 · 2 years

Note

I noticed you wrote for Billy loomis so I’m wondering if you can write about him and Bo pinning for a childhood friend they didn’t see her for long and she pops up in a party / their house ?

Oh, one for Bo and Billy?! My lucky day!

Billy Loomis

House parties are not only fun, but the easiest way to scout for new targets! Stu is good at being the clown in the center of attention, while Billy is the loner "bad boy" in the corner that gains the attention of any girl dumb enough to seek him out.

Girls come and go through a revolving door. They're all the same... It leaves a bad taste in his mouth. None of them ever really knew him. There was only one person that Billy ever had felt much of anything, and that person was-

"HEY! ISN'T THAT YOUR OLD GIRLFRIEND?! FROM MIDDLE SCHO- OW! HEY-!"

As loud and obnoxious as Stu's shouting was, when Billy turned to look where he was pointing just before he had elbowed him in the ribs, his stomach dropped to his feet and his heart shot up into his throat.

Holy SHIT ITS- Wait, is that-? NO IT IS HOLY SHIT OH FUCK-

That carefully crafted facade of his immediately slips off and breaks into a thousand tiny pieces all over the floor. No, if that isn't you, then he's seriously seeing shit right now! Oh shit oh FUCK what is he supposed to do right-?!

"HEY! YOU! YEAH! DO YOU REMEMBER THIS GUY?!" Oh, he's going to kill this dumb ass mother-!

"Huh? Oh! Billy! Billy Loomis?!"

"Ah- H-Hey! You're, uh, from Mr. Smith's class, right?"

"Yeah! Man, it's been ages! How have you been?"

Okay, maybe he won't kill Stu. This time...

Bo Sinclair

Lester didn't know who you were. Vincent barely even knew of you! Bo kept you close to his chest, like you were his and his alone. You were kind to him, even in your shit situation, and he never forgot that crush that had developed into a raging infatuation. So when Lester brought you into Ambrose one fateful day...

Bo's fight or flight response kicked in, before he manages to get a grip on himself. What the hell is he supposed to do?!

He stops you before you get too deep into town unsupervised, lest his twin gets ahold of you first....

"H-Hey, can I help you there, miss...?" If he plays it off like he doesn't remember you, maybe it'll be less weird...

"Huh-? Oh! Yeah, I, uh, broke down a little ways away- Wait... Bo? Bo Sinclair?!" It was like Bo was falling in love all over again. The way your face lit up when you recognized him...

Shit, he can't let you go. Not again... You're as sweet as ever, taking the time to catch up with him and asking about the town and his brother...

Maybe he can convince you to stay... For a bit longer... For your safety! If you don't agree? Well... Bo does have ways of making you stay, though he would rather things not come to that, if he can help it...

@prettycutebunny

@gore-loving-whore

@kennbb

@cherrysodalite

@dead-bxtch-walking

@space-arsonist

@pink-soft-shadow

#scream 1996 #billy loomis #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #ask response

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klugpuuo · 3 years

Text

almost every puyo~tet single-character headcanon wie have

every character we've put more than three minutes of thought into are gonna be in this post. this *does* leave out a lot of characters, but still includes so many that hopefully that'll make up for it. ^also i forgot about this entirely while writing and tried to add a few characters i literally never think about everat all so you get extra funny commentary i guess

welp! enjoy the ride. and dont forget to like, comment, and subscribe (/lh)

warnings: mentions food, implied self-harm, delusions (not inherently triggering but still), general violence, some madou-era content, death. (more to be added + ask to tag) none of the things mentioned are in much detail.

Madou Monogatari / OG Puyo~Puyo characters:

Arle – 16 (chronologically 20 due to the Madou time stop but doesn’t realize it), has PTSD and ADHD + nonbinary transfem + sex-repulsed and questioning (she/he/they)

Assorted headcanons:

-Her armor was made into a sort of magical puberty blocker by her grandmother, who knew Arle was trans and wanted her to live her life to the fullest. -Although she has never been in an (official) romantic relationship, she’s usually the first person her friends go to for relationship advice. -She stims a lot, usually by twirling her hair around or jumping.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: She’s in a vaguely romantic relationship with Serilly. “Vaguely” as in they go on dates frequently, kiss a lot, and would live together if they could, but neither is sure if they are actually dating. Friends: She adores Ringo and Amitie and wants to protect both of them – not in the super creepy and sorta patronizing way, but in the “she really cares about them and their well-being” way. Despite thinking that Schezo is an absolute fool at times, she still cares about him quite a bit. She’s come to regret what she did all those years ago, and is determined to make sure that Schezo never remembers it.

Schezo – ~200, has ADHD and PTSD + transmasc + homosexual (he/it/gore)

Assorted headcanons:

-Although he can be away from his sword, it’s bonded to his body so strongly that if he is too far away from it for too long he becomes incredibly weak. -He borrowed a thesaurus from Aya and Klug and is not planning on ever giving it back. -He doesn’t remember a single thing that happened before Puyo~7, and can hardly remember anything from then until Puyo~Tetris 2. -After learning about tone indicators, he begins to put “/nx” at the end of *all* of his messages online. Although a few people make fun of him for it, many people find it either endearing or some form of cool, and he’s affectionately known as “the /nx anon” in a few social circles. -His main special interests are forging and dark magic (good for him <3)

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes: He has a slight crush on Lemres, and thinks that Incubus is.. interesting. He also thinks Witch is cute but can’t tell if that’s a crush or what. (Good) friends: He considers Arle to be his best friend, and she’s usually the first person he’d go to for anything. The two actually lived together for a while. Although he thinks Rulue is a fool at times, he still cares about her and thinks she’s pretty impressive. Enemies...?: He once was always looking to pick a fight with Satan, but after (rather awkwardly) remembering that he once saw the prince as a father, he mostly stopped doing that.

Rulue – ~40-ish?, experiences delusions + cis lass + questioning (she/her and a few neopronouns)

Assorted headcanons:

-She’s not sure why there are so many people who are like her and at this point she’s wondering if it really is just a coincidence. -She secretly wishes that she could join Arle, Schezo and Witch’s arm-wrestling sessions, but as they’ve been going on for so long without her she feels almost awkward asking. -Although she still experiences delusions sometimes, she’s gotten a lot better at telling what’s true and what’s false.

Relationship headcanons:

Partner… sorta?: She’s sort of in a QPR with Raffina, and they go on platonic dates a lot. (Good) friends: She’s quite good friends with Arle, especially since she’s no longer chasing after Satan. Speaking of Satan, as she’s no longer absolutely obsessed with him she’s actually beginning to get along well with him, and the two regularly have friendly battles.

Witch – >16, might be NT + cis lass + omni (she/it)

Assorted headcanons:

-The only thing she can transform people or things into without help of a potion is mushrooms. -She’s surprisingly strong and quite good at arm wrestling. -She’s not sure if she had any sort of neurodiversities, but she doesn’t really care either way.

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes…?: She might have feelings for Arle, but even she doesn’t have any clue. She’s also.. interested in Feli, as she sees Feli as quite the interesting person. Family: She’s an orphan, although she doesn’t mind it. (Good) friends: She’s okay-ish friends with Schezo, and the two usually do arm wrestling matches with Arle in their free time.

Satan – ~3000<, only god knows + cis trans man (somehow less than a joke) + pansexual (he/it)

Assorted headcanons:

-As he’s so old and has changed his physical appearance so many times, he’s completely forgotten his original sex, if he even had one. -After getting very literally schooled by Raffina, he realized that his plans to acquire Arle were just never going to work, and after a while of self-reflection he decided that he’d rather spend the rest of eternity doing other things he liked than chasing around an underage lass. -Due to having completely remade the world himself, he feels almost completely disconnected from it. All the people he used to know.. aren’t the same, and it’s destroying him.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: Misses his dead wife a lot, but is now happily dating (nd half-joke married to) Ex (Chosen) family: After Satan had a good long think about everything, he realized that he did actually care about Lidelle a lot, and now properly sees her as a little sister. Friends: He’s on good terms with Rulue and actually properly hangs out with her sometimes. -

Serilly – >16, has anxiety and experiences delusions + trans lass + questioning (she/her)

Assorted headcanons:

-hgnggng operea

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: She may or may not be dating Arle. (Chosen) family: Although she’s presumably an orphan, she has Suketoudara, who she sees as an older brother figure. Best friend: She platonically loves Harpy a lot, and the two of them spend a lot of time together. - Suketoudara – ~30, NT + about as cis guy as a fish can get + polysexual (he/him)

Assorted headcanons:

-I literally do not think about this guy

Relationship headcanons:

Sibling serilly

Puyo Fever (2) characters:

Amitie – 14 and a half, autistic + binary transfem + fem-leaning panromantic (she/fae/flare)

Assorted headcanons:

-She found out that she was trans when she was 7 years old, and managed to convince her parents to let her transition when she was 12. -She taught herself how to bake, and Arle taught her how to cook more salty things. She regularly makes lunches for her friends, even if they already have their own. -She cares a lot about Sig’s ladybug friend and usually “babysits” them when Sig has to leave to wherever. -Raffina and her are the only two with two parents who haven’t divorced and/or died, but as Amitie's parents are almost always at work she doesn't get to talk to them very much. -She stims by twirling her hair when it’s long, or squishing a puyo-shaped stress ball when it’s short.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: She’s in a QPR with Sig and Klug, and says she wouldn’t give it up for the world. Crushes: She has a huge crush on Ringo, and a squish on Ess, but she doesn’t think either of them feel the same way. (Chosen) family: She feels rather lucky having contact with both her mother and father, as most of her friends don’t have contact with their own parents. Also, she looks up to Arle a lot, and sees them as an older sibling. Friends(?): Nobody can tell what exactly her relationship with Raffina is, but the most common theory is that they’ve kissed at least twice. Even during Lidelle’s fight with Sig, Amitie supported her, knowing she truly did regret her actions and it was mostly just a big misunderstanding.

Klug – 14 and three quarts, autistic and has ADHD + transmasc nonbinary + ace/aroflux (he/they/wir)

Assorted headcanons:

-Although he had initially asked to be called by neopronouns just as a joke, he found he actually liked the wir/worm set a lot, and now tends to go by that exclusively on some days. -On one night he doesn’t remember, all of his cosmetic glasses were mysteriously destroyed, along with all his contact lenses. After that, he stuck to just one pair of functional glasses -He was gifted an “EiPod” by Ringo and Amitie, although only the latter took credit for it. -He stims by humming, writing, and aggressively cleaning his glasses.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: He’s in a QPR with Sig and Amitie, and secretly wants to leave Primp and travel the world with them both. Chosen family: He sees Feli as both a rival and a sister, and now has come to see Lemres as an older-sibling figure of sorts. Friend: He’s on good terms with Lidelle, and she’s one of the only people who’s younger than he is that he still treats with respect. Rivals(?): He thinks Raffina is pretty rude, and he never lets her go without remembering that he’s better friends with Amitie than she is for more than a month.

Sig – 15, autistic and has ADHD + transmasc demilad + biromantic (he/bug/they/it)

Assorted headcanons:

-Doesn’t consider any sort of bug to be his “favorite”, but has a soft spot for ladybeetles, stag beetles and fireflies. -After a failed attempt at acquiring Sig’s power, Aya accidentally gave Sig half of its own power, causing Sig to become slightly more than just a half-demon. -After he scratched himself one too many times, Amitie and Lidelle worked together to make a glove for Sig’s claw hand. -His main special interests are both bugs and history, and he usually stims by repeating words he likes.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: He’s mostly queerplatonic, partially romantic partners with both Amitie and Klug. During the first half week of their relationship, he was the only one the two felt comfortable cuddling with, which he was completely fine with. Family: Although initially Sig and Aya were almost enemies, they managed to reach an agreement after being left alone together and now see each other as both family and friends. Friends: He’s pretty good friends with Lidelle, and he helps her with bug-related problems whenever she has any. He’s also pretty good friends with Raffina even if they don’t hang out much and he still has trouble with her name. Enemies: Schezo.

Raffina – 16, has (canonical) imposter syndrome + transfem + pansexual demiromantic (she/her)

Assorted headcanons:

-As her family is very upper middle class, she was able to medically transition almost immediately after coming out. -She once tried to start a Primp Town Fight Club. It did not go well. -She’s the only person aside from Amitie that has two parents that did not abandon her and are not divorced. Unlike Amitie, however, only her mother works, so she gets to talk to her father frequently.

Relationship headcanons:

Crush: She secretly wants to kiss Lidelle really badly. (Good) friends: Although she was slightly distanced from them during the whole fight ordeal, she’s quite good friends with all the ASK trio. She’s pretty friendly with Ess.

Lidelle – 14, has social anxiety + cis lass + questioning (she/her)

Assorted headcanons:

-She feels genuinely sorry for what she did and said to Sig and those bugs, and she’s proud of herself for apologizing. -She likes playing with marbles and has made pretty big marble “race” courses in the past. -She doubts her self-worth a lot, and is worried that others don’t take her very seriously.

Relationship headcanons:

Chosen family: Despite not having any surviving biological family, she’s found a family in the form of Draco and Satan, who have been taking care of her for some time now. Best friend: Lidelle hangs out with Raffina almost constantly, and she considers Raf to be her very best friend. Good friends.. again: After a very large fight with Sig over the fact that her flesh-eating plants killed some of his bugs, she and Sig stopped being friends for a bit. After a lot of talking with Amitie and Raffina, she realized her mistake, and she apologized to Sig – and to her surprise, Sig apologized back. Even during the fight, she and Amitie stayed friends, and Ami gave her a lot of emotional support. She looks up to Klug, although Klug sees her as an equal and even spares a warm smile for her during some of his most jerk-y moments.

Lemres – 35, autistic, has SAD and PTSD + transmasc and nonbinary + aroflux/aceflux (they/them, he/him and any candy-related neopronouns)

Assorted headcanons:

-They are actually entirely blind due to personal reasons, and sewed their eyes shut as to not freak others out too much. They “see” by feeling the magic of their environment, and cannot “see” in low-magic areas (they also cannot read faces. At all.) -They have a sort of “vacation house” near Primp which they visit during the summer or any free time they have. The fact that it was built so close to Primp was a coincidence, but something they like very much. -Schezo occasionally “visits” the vacation house for a few months before running off on some random adventure for whatever reason. -Their broom was broken, presumably by Witch as they had fought with her not too long before that. -Su has a certain type of magic that allows sucre to read minds (or at least meaning). -His type of magic does not work on demons for a plethora of reasons. -They usually stim by twirling their staff around and messing with what remains of their broom.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: They’re in a weird sort-of relationship with Schezo. The relationship informally started after Schezo assisted Lemres during a restless period and it doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. (Chosen) family: Although they want to keep their distance from their biological family, they’ve found a new family in Primp in the form of the ASK trio (Good) friends: They’re very close to Accord, having know her since Highschool (and even before she made Poipoi).

Feli – 16 and a half, experiences delusions and has disorders + transfem + bisexual (she/her evi/evil go/goth)

Assorted headcanons:

-Rather compulsory heterosexuality with her. She doesn’t actually have that much love for Lemres, mainly just lust and a feeling that she has to date or marry him. -She personally believes sharing one’s birthday with someone else is a sign of extreme trust due to Zodiac reasons. -She feels like her gender is influenced by gothic aesthetics, but can’t really describe it further.

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes: She still very obviously has a crush on Lemres, although it’s starting to lessen now that Lemres is in a closed relationship. (Chosen) family: She sees Klug as an annoying little brother, although he’s marginally more mature than she is. (Good) friends: She’s pretty good friends with Lidelle and Raffina.

Accord/Poipoi – ???? + cis lass and agender respectively + god knows (she/her for accord, he/it for poipoi)

Assorted headcanons:

-Accord secretly really likes hitting things with her hammer to the point where she’d go quite far in order to get a chance to do so. However, she would never readily admit this as she finds it to be incredibly childish. -Only Accord knows what happened to Lemres’s eyes. -During Highschool, Accord enchanted a puppet and gave it its own thoughts, personality, dreams, etc. That puppet was quite obviously Poipoi.

Relationship headcanons:

(Good) friends: Accord is close friends with Lemres, having known him since Highschool (she was his upperclassman by a few years) and never passes up a chance to talk to him. Poipoi managed to make friends with Aya in a particularly independent moment where it ran away.

Ayashii – >800, has a lot of trauma + whats a gender + (it/any neos/they/he/she)

Assorted headcanons:

-It genuinely forgot what a gender was because gender is so unimportant to it. -It somehow found a way to continue being friends with the puppy it rescued, even going so far as to teaching them the difference between it and Klug. -As it has extreme claustrophobia, it tends to take very long walks whenever it’s using Klug’s body.

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes???: Aya has some interest in Lemres and Schezo, but isn’t entirely sure what kind of interest. (Chosen) family: It’s beginning to see Klug as a son of sorts, and recognizes Sig as its descendent. huh what: It doesn’t trust Accord at all, especially knowing (and being friends with) Poipoi as an individual.

Yu and Rei - ??? + phasmaeic + (both use she/he/they gho/ghost spec/spectre and dar/dark)

- - -

Relationship headcanons:

Puyo~7 characters:

Ringo – 16, ??? + questioning (demigirl?) + bisexual (she/they)

Assorted headcanons:

-She’s questioning pretty much every single thing about her identity and beliefs to the point where she’s actually been having frequent migraines because of it. -She’s not at all proud to admit it, but she’s not-so-secretly envious of Maguro’s “beauty beam”. -She eats a LOT of things that you’re not meant to eat, to the point where everyone except for Sig (who does the same) is worried for her.

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes: She has small crushes on both Amitie and Tee, although she likes Amitie a *bit* more. Epic friends: She’s best friends with Maguro, and he’s one of the few people she properly trusts (not for edgy reasons, just because). A lot of people assume she’s dating him, which makes her feel pretty uncomfortable, but she doesn’t feel like she can really blame them.

Maguro – 16, has ADHD and PTSD (latter from AU) + questioning + bisexual (he/they)

Assorted headcanons:

-He’s questioning the same stuff as Ringo, although he’s a lot more chill about it. -He was pretty scarred, emotionally and physically, after an unfortunate incident concerning a badly thought-out prank, a fishing net, and a timer set to one month -He remembers all of his trauma in perfect clarity, and has good memory overall.

Relationship headcanons:

Partner:He’s been in a romantic relationship with Tee for a few months, and so far it’s been really nice. Best friend: He’s best friends with Ringo, and he feels really comfortable around her. They share almost everything, and are planning on moving in together once they get the chance to have a proper house. Good friends: Although Ris moved away to study abroad a while back, they still send a lot of gifts and letters to him on a regular basis. Also, they’ve been staying in contact with Ess ever since the whole beauty pageant thing and the two go shopping when they’re both free.

Risukuma – 19, NT + trans man + male-leaning pansexual (he/him)

Assorted headcanons:

-He’s incredibly interested in all types of love -After graduating school, he decided to study abroad to learn more about other cultures (and of course, love). -He really likes music, even having written some of his own songs in the past. One of his favorite bands is IDKHOW.

Relationship headcanons:

Partner: Despite only having interacted a few times, he’s quite good “friends” with Ai. Good friends: After moving away from Suzuran, he’s not been able to hang out with Ringo or Maguro as much, but he still sends them letters and gifts on a regular basis. What: He does not want to know about Ecolo. Do not tell him about Ecolo.

Ecolo – ageless and has so many disorders (affectionate??) + gender + probably so (it/they/he/she/other in that order)

Assorted headcanons:

-If asked, it would describe its gender as “Once In A Lifetime” by Talking Heads. -It’s trying really really hard to respect Ringo’s boundaries nowadays, and not just because she refused to acknowledge its existence for a whole week after it accidentally hurt her. -It can change into its human form at will; however, if it wants to stay in that form for more than a few hours at a time, it has to actually sleep for several days straight. -In its humanoid form, it sports several scars. -It genuinely loves fidget spinners and has this really creepy one it carries everywhere.

Relationship headcanons:

Crush: You know it wants to kiss Ringo so bad. Friends: Ex-friends with Satan because Ringo hates him. Pretty alright friends with Ex and Marle, not entirely sure what to think about Squares. Uh…: After.. an accident it caused, Maguro started to be able to remember it.

Puyo~Tetris characters:

Tee – 16, + trans man + questioning (he/him)

Assorted headcanons:

-He can’t pronounce any name longer than four letters long. Somehow, the worst case of this is with Ringo and Maguro’s names. -Having transitioned at a very young age and only interacting with one lass for most of his life, he has a lot of internalized sexism. After Ringo points this out, he starts trying to work on it, but he hasn’t been doing very well so far. -He’s also trying really hard to find a balance between being too basic and too over-the-top, but..

Relationship headcanons:

Partner: He’s been in a romantic relationship with Maguro for a few months. It’s been really nice, but as this is his first relationship he tends to go all-out with everything, causing Maguro to get rather flustered. Crush: Although he’s very hesitant to admit it, he has a pretty big crush on Ringo and wants to kiss her. Chosen family: O is his parent, Ess and Ai are his siblings, and the twins are his messed up if true gay cousins. Friend: He’s pretty good friends with Sig because of their shared inability to correctly pronounce Raffina’s name.

O – infinite, ??? + ???? + probably gay? ????? (any and all pronouns)

Assorted headcanons:

-I cannot reasonably take myself seriously trying to make headcanons for this godforsaken cloud cube -Squares themself made this thing (on accident?) -Anger management issues incarnate

Relationship headcanons:

Parnter: Kissed Carbuncle once eChidle: Tee is its son

Ex – ~40, has autism, minor intrusive thoughts and (canon) depression + some form of Guy + yes (he/they)

Assorted headcanons:

-He’s not sure how he identifies gender- and sexuality-wise and feels as if he’s too old to try to figure that out (which isn’t true, but still) -He genuinely misses Ess and Ai a lot and is unendingly grateful for the chance to see them both again. -His intrusive thoughts are usually fairly easy to deal with, but can sometimes get pretty bad if he’s left alone for too long.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners: I’m pretty sure he has an ex-wife somewhere and that scares me. Also he kisses Satan every day of his life (Chosen) family: He misses his children, Ess and Ai, so much. (Good) friends: He’s become reluctant friends with Ecolo, and very good friends with Marle and Squares.

Jay & Elle – 13, autistic and have separation anxiety + nonbinary + ??? (they/them)

Assorted headcanons:

-Individually they’re okay with all pronouns, but nobody can reasonably refer to them as separate entities. -After a few people asked them, they stopped bullying Ai as much, but they still “prank” him a lot. -They were separated exactly once. It was not a very good time for them.

Relationship headcanons:

Partners:They’re queerplatonic partners with Yu and Rei, since that’s just kind of what happens when you’re two sets of evil twins who like bothering others. Friends: They don’t really have many friends as their creepiness scares people off a lot, but they like hanging out with Ecolo (even if they forget about it a lot)

Ai – 20, has pretty severe anxiety + transmasc + bisexual (he/him)

Assorted headcanons:

-He found out that he was trans after he managed to get a sort of wi-fi thing going during a five-month-long stay in a densely-packed asteroid belt. He had actually medically transitioned before that, but nobody on the SS Tetra had the word for it. -He has exactly one large scar from a prank gone horribly wrong. Otherwise, he’s not been seriously injured by anything the twins have done. - Recently he’s started to become slightly braver in general thanks to a lot of therapy and emotional support from his boyfriend, this has allowed him to stand up to the twins a lot more. He is also more physically strong, and plans to drop kick them both someday.

Relationship headcanons:

Partner: He kisses Risukuma on the daily Chosen family: As he canonically sees Ex as a father, he headcanonically sees Ess as a sister. Pure hatred(/j): He’s no longer as afraid of the tetra twins, and sometimes even manages to prank them back on good days.

Ess – ~15, only ex knows. Has serious abandonment issues, apparently canon(?!?!) PTSD, and so many things + cis demilass + lesbiab (she/they/ze)

Assorted headcanons:

-She actually has a job, and on the last weekend of every month she goes shopping with Maguro (or Amitie if he’s busy) on Saturday and Raffina on Sunday with the money she gets. -She kinda wishes that she were more physically strong for a multitude of minor reasons. -Ess doesn’t actually know how to say Ringo’s name and tries really hard to hide that fact.

Relationship headcanons:

Crushes:She’s absolutely in love with Amitie, although she’s in very deep denial about it. Chosen family: She sees Ai as a brother, and the two bond over the fact that Ex totally ditched them to go patch up dimensions or whatever. Speaking of Ex, she’s very recently found it in her heart to maybe forgive him for leaving her when she was young, although she still is a long ways away from seeing him as a father again. Friends: She and Raffina hang out and talk about their insecurities a lot.

Zed – uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (he/him)

Assorted headcanons:

-uhhhhhhhhhh -I genuinely don’t think of this guy He reminds me too much of my ex-chosen-father -…to be added.

Relationship headcanons:

Ess is his belovt daughter that’s all you need to know.

Additional headcanons:

-Most of the Madou Monogatari gang feel entirely disconnected from what’s left of their humanity, so they identify with it/its along with whichever other pronouns they use. -Sig, Dark Sig, and the evil Sig from Sig’s Secret are all different entities. -Speaking of Dark Sig, they can actually purr, although Sig himself cannot. Klug thinks this is incredibly interesting and actually conducted several half-serious experiments to try to figure out why. -All of the SS Tetra crew see each other as family, although some have more clearly defined views of that. None of them have any romantic or sexual interest in any other member.

#ALSO IF ANyone has any questions please ask pleas #beeper canon #pinned post #puyo puyo #puyo puyo tetris #madou monogatari #<again #only mentioned #headcanon #headcanons #long post #im tempted to tag the characters but thatd be too long time for me to do so #enjiy

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maevesdarling · 3 years

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Take me home tonight

Sooo, I decided to post chapter 1 of the story @unicorn-cloud and I have been cooking up for a while. This plays post series in an alternative universe. There’s mentions of gore and canon typical violence in both this and the second chapter, basically Walt is not dealing with things as good as he thought... I’m not sure how many chapters this story will have, probably around 3 to 4, also please be kind to me it’s been a long time since I uploaded my works to Tumblr, thx!

Chapter 1: The Call

Later, after he put his gun and badge down and moves further away from the border, Walt gets a call from an unknown number. He contemplates not picking up. It's been years since Kiki's death and operation Leyenda. He thinks, for a moment, that it could be Miguel Angel, calling him from his jail cell to taunt him, but no, he's not important enough to that man and besides, Miguel Angel doesn't wield as much power as he used to.

There are others. New players in this fucked up game, Walt knows that. He saw them rising on the horizon like a looming thunderstorm, ready to destroy the earth in it's path. But for now, he decided to enjoy his peace. His back's been bothering him more as of lately and he's got a few more grey hairs. He quit smoking about a year ago, after his doctor told him to do so. He's had a few setbacks since then, a half finished pack is always hidden underneath his kitchen sink, just in case he needs a fix. But overall, he's trying to stay away from the cigarettes and eat more healthy, even though the microwavable dinners at the supermarket look damn tempting, especially since it's only himself he's cooking for.

He's up in Colorado these days. The DEA was kind enough to leave him with a nice sum of retirement money, probably to shut him up after all the shit he pulled of during his career and to be fair he doesn't blame them.

He buys a nice enough house on the outskirts of town, with some additional property, a rundown barn and an old apple tree orchard that he has no plan on using. The weather's less hot, and there's a few lakes where he can fish, but otherwise, it's pretty much like any other town he's lived in. The dark red sandstones dotting the farmland remind him of Mexico. Of sitting in the hot sun and watching a small airfield in the distance, with a pair of binoculars in his hand. Sal's voice next to him asking about their next move. It's nostalgic in a way.

The first day, after he finished dropping off his stuff in the small, rundown house, he sets off to drive around, get familiar with the place. He finds a shabby bar, a small supermarket, a post office, a family owned diner and a few farms, with cows and hundreds of chickens roaming the surrounding fields, that sell local products. Over time, he ventures out further and discovers some more bars, supermarkets and, to his surprise, a gay club.

It's well hidden, two cities over, wedged between an antique bookstore and a barbershop. It looks nothing like a club from outside, and from the inside, it's hardly distinguishable from any other bar Walt has ever set foot in. But he knows where to look, it's something you learn over time.

The first time he orders a drink, his eyes fall on a guy sitting on the other end of the bar. Dark hair and dark eyes, with a bristly moustache. He's wearing a black cowboy hat and a jeans jacket, it's not what he would have worn. Plus he only looks a slight bit like Sal, his face is much older, more weathered from years of hard work in the sun, but it's enough for Walt to give in to his yearning.

He buys Not-Sal a drink and they fall into an easy chatter. Two hours later, Walt is driving him back to his house. Not-Sal is more experienced than Walt had thought when he starts undressing him with steady hands, his fingers touching in all the right places, he's already prepared, as if he'd been expecting this to happen, and doesn't mind it when Walt accidentally let's Sal's name slip at the height of his pleasure.

They lie together afterwards, sharing a cigarette between them, neither of them ready to leave yet. Walt is slowly falling asleep to the feeling of another person combing their hands through his hair. When he wakes up the next morning, the house is empty. There's a note on his kitchen table, a short thank you message, that's it. Next time he's at the club, Not-Sal is gone. He finds someone else. A different man, with dark hair, dark eyes and a friendly face, and then another and another. Some of the men he brings over are kind, they'll stay the night and sometimes even the morning, to share a quick meal with him before they move on, others leave almost immediately after they finish. Some of them yell out Walt's name as they come, others don't. And some yell out another man's name, but that's okay because so is Walt.

He's careful with the company he keeps. Always making sure that no one sees him leaving the club with another man, driving different routes back home and of course he's always stocking up on enough condoms because he's not stupid, he knows how important protection is.

Even though he's had a few men over, none of them return for longer than a couple of times. Its fun, to fill the mornings with senseless chatter, and to fall asleep in another person's arms. But they're not Sal.

He's longing for him. Even after all those years he's still longing for him. It's been three, almost four years since he last heard from Sal. He was moving to San Francisco. The DEA wanted someone new up there and Sal was growing tired of the shit hole they had placed him in after Mexico. They had called each other almost everyday, sometimes they would even meet each other, for a quick chat and an even quicker fuck. There was never enough time.

Sal wanted to call him back, he promised, once he was in San Francisco, to call him every day. Write a postcard. But nothing came. The telephone was silent for two whole months and Walt was desperate. First, he checked the newspapers for any missing or recently deceased people, when that search came up empty, he started to search the phone book for Sal's new address but of course that came up empty as well. He kept buying new phone books, just in case and by now, there was a small bookcase filled with old phone books in his house, and not a single one held an address for Sal Orozco. It was almost like he never exited. Only Walt's memory kept him from going insane. The fading photos on his wall, the one he kept in his wallet, next to a picture of Greg and his family. One of Sal's shirts he forgot in Walt's apartment in Texas, it had long stopped smelling of him, but nevertheless, Walt would pick it up and inhale deeply, thinking that the ghost of Sal's smell was still there, etched into the fabric. He slept with the shirt, on those nights when he woke up drenched in sweat, screaming and with a thundering heart. He wrenched his eyes open but he saw them anyway, Amat, Ossie, Danilo, sometimes even Kiki. He saw them die, he saw their bodies, bruised, burned, riddled with bullets, standing in front of his bed, he could hear them calling out his name. "You killed us, Walt." They'd point at him, blood dripping from their fingertips onto his bedsheets. Those nights were the worst. Sometimes they could only be stopped with an entire bottle of whiskey.

The dreams had gotten better since he found the dog. The dog didn't have a name. He was a stray, with dark, golden fur and dirty white paws. He picked him up on his way home from an unsuccessful night at the club, the dog was covered in ticks and fleas, one eye had been badly bruised and he was tied to a tree by the side of the road. Clearly abandoned. He expected the dog to bark at him, or worse, bite him, when he kneeled down beside him to untie him, but instead, it sat down in front of Walt and started wagging it's tail, as if he'd known Walt all his life. He took the dog in and gave it a bath, making sure that no ticks or fleas survived, before driving him to the vet the next morning to check out his eye. The vet couldn't save it and so Walt decided to take him in, just another broken thing keeping his company.

He put a collar on the dog and called him his, they slept in the same bed and sat on the couch together, watching football games and stupid action movies. The dog went fishing on the lake with him, even though he was no big help in catching the fish, he also liked to run around the orchard and sit on the front porch to sleep, and Walt liked to sit beside him and think, scratching behind his fluffy ears. Sometimes he wondered if Sal liked dogs. What he'd say if he met his dog.

The other animals were intentional. Walt bought a couple of chickens to sell their eggs at the local farm, and to keep himself busy. Then he renovated the old barn as best as he could and bought three goats to sell their meat, but once he saw them in their pen, he decided they weren't going to the slaughter house and kept them for their milk instead. He also fixed up the orchard as best as he could and started collecting the apples. Soon the onslaught of apples was too much for him to handle and so he collected them in a few boxes, along with the chicken eggs and sold them to the nearest farm. Surprisingly, the people around town started knowing him once he started visiting the farm more frequently. He would have regular conversations with some of them and at some point, even started looking forward to see them. He didn't go to the town hall meetings, or to Sunday mass, and the people had been weary of him, but once they saw him with his dog and the boxes of apples in his trunk, they warmed up to him.

He enjoyed his new life. It wasn't luxurious, but that wasn't what he wanted for himself anyway. He was no Miguel Angel. He didn't need a fleet of private planes and a couple of hotels to be happy.

The phone rang again and reminded him of his current situation. The dog had stopped wagging it's tail on the couch beside him and was looking at him with his one eye, almost as if he was saying "what are you waiting for?"

And so Walt picked up the phone, fully expecting Jamie or Ed or someone else from the DEA to yell at him to get his ass back to Mexico.

"Hello... is this Walt Breslin?" The phone slipped from his grasp and fell, he caught it in his suddenly sweaty palms, pressing the shell back against his ear. Three years silence could not erase the memory of that voice. Hushed conversations between them, hiding behind a parked car as they watched over a suspect, a gasp and then a low moan, while Walt kept hitting that one spot inside him, that set Sal's body on fire, a chatty conversation over two mugs of steaming coffee in a diner that ended with both of them laughing hysterically. Walt had enough memories for an entire lifetime with that voice, he would recognize it anywhere.

"Sal-" He breathed, rearranging the phone against his ear.

"Is- Walt is that you? Oh my god- fuck- I found you!" There was a short pause on the other end of the phone and for a moment Walt thought he was imagining things, then Sal's voice returned. "I- I'm sorry, Walt. I'm so sorry-" He sobbed, apologizing over and over.

"Sal- How did you find me? Wh- Are you alright? Is- do you need help?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Walt. I am. I just- fuck- I missed you so much. Where are you? I called you're old address so many times- I thought something happened to you…"

"Shh, I'm okay. I'm in Colorado. Small town near Denver. I'll give you the address… That is… If you want me to…"

"Yes! I mean... yes I want- I want to see you. If that's okay. I need to- need to know you're okay."

He contemplated with himself wether to ask this or not, but in the end, Walt did it anyways. "It's been three years, Sal. Why did you never call? What's changed?" Another sobb from the other end of the line. "I'll tell you. In person. Friday? Is that okay for you?" Walt squinted at his calendar. Friday was in two days, he needed to clean the house, buy some groceries and pack the car for Sunday's apple delivery.

"Yeah, Friday works."

"Alright. I'll see you on Friday… Walt… I missed you."

"… Missed you too Sal."

He put the phone down slowly, feeling like he was still in a dream. The dog had noticed something was off about his behavior and was staring at him in concern. " 's alright bud, I'm just… surprised, is all. We'll meet a friend of mine on Friday. I hope you'll like him…"

Lost in his thoughts, Walt began his evening routine, closing the chicken pen, checking on the goats and refilling the dogs food in case he got hungry during the night, only when the brown cibbles hit the kitchen tiles did he notice his thoughts slipping off. The only thing on his mind was Sal. Sal with his kind face and the warm, dark brown eyes, Sal wrapping an arm around his hips and pulling him closer, Sal whispering into Walt's ear. A hushed love confession neither of them dared to talk about. So, so many memories they shared between them, how was he supposed to wait any longer to see him again?

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

#narcos mexico #walt breslin #sal orozco #My writing #fingers crossed I find the time to finish chapter 2 soon

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leatafandom · 2 years

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30 & 34

Hi love! Thank you so much for the ask!

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Merciless angst. It depends on my mood most of the time but I generally lean more towards angst and tragedies rather than super fluffy happy stuff.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

This one took me a little bit, to be honest. I have a couple scenes that I just love throughout a couple of fics of mine. But! I love the below scene constantly its a scene from my Spideypool Distraction Series that's in both The New Kid and The K Word. It inspired two of my favorite parts from the series and I loved writing it from different perspectives. I honestly love the lead-up and what happens right after I cut it as well, but it was a bit long for an excerpt (and still kinda is I just love it too much to cut it).

Thank you so much for the ask! It's been a while since I've looked at Distractions I forgot how much I enjoyed it. It was really fun to look at it again.

Excerpt from Distractions: The K Word below the cut, which contains depictions of gore, violence, and death.

When Peter reached the ground and dropped down into a crouch, he raised his hands in front of him. Peter moved carefully, keeping Wade in his sights. He paused trying to breathe against his anger and the smell of blood. He didn't look down at the bodies laid at their feet, focusing instead on his friend that he hadn't seen in a year. Peter swallowed thickly, standing between the fallen dismembered corpses, waiting to see if Wade would look at him. Spider-Man stood still watching Wade's still heavy breathing shoulders. Peter's eyes looked over Bea and Arthur, just out of range of them, held tightly in Wade's lowered arms.

He won't hurt me, Peter thought firmly, biting back his anger and fear with thoughts of the Wade he trusted above anyone else to have his back. He won't hurt me. He had a reason.

Peter didn't look down from Deadpool's mask, taking another step closer. He wouldn't be able to do this if he didn't focus on Wade. Wade was trapped in his head and there had to be a reason. Peter looked at Wade and ignored the bodies surrounding them, only focusing on the blood-soaked man in front of him, clearing his throat.

"Wade. Can you hear me?" Peter called, feeling like his voice was trembling.

"...Wade?” Peter tried again, his eyes searching behind his mask, frozen in place. Peter thought of the voice that waxed on about him, grasping at straws, hoping for something to jog them. “Yellow?" Peter tried to clear his throat again, his hope fading as Wade stayed lost in his head.

Peter took another step closer, going slower as he winced against his Spidey Sense, stepping over a crumpled hand. Peter couldn't stop, he had to get Wade to stop and come back. He wouldn't give up on him, he’d never give up on Wade. Peter ignored the sound of his boots squelching through the blood and tissue littering the asphalt as he walked. Peter cleared his throat one last time, trying to keep the panic of a silent Deadpool out of his voice. Spider-Man didn't look away from Wade, his foot only hesitating in the air for a moment before taking another step towards Wade.

"Deadpool. It's just me." Peter called his voice shaking a bit more, his hands still raised out in front of him.

Peter knew this wasn’t going to work, not like this. Wade didn't move his eyes transfixed on the blood dripping from his swords. Peter looked up to Miles, suddenly remembering him. Wade hadn't wanted Miles to ever know them like this. Peter hadn't either, but that wasn't realistic.

Peter frowned, closing his eyes for a second before turning back to Wade. Peter didn't want Miles to find out like this. They would figure it out later. Peter could hear Miles' gasp from above them as Peter pulled his mask off in one sure movement. Peter’s eyes focused only on Wade, his brown eyes filled with desperation. Peter didn't want to call anyone else, he had to get Wade to snap out of it before Spider-Man had to do something. Peter offered Wade a wide smile, swallowing roughly, his hands clenching his mask tightly.

"Just me. Just Petey-pie." His voice called lightly.

Peter could do this, he could bring Wade home. They could figure this out. His heart clenched in sadness and disappointment. He tried to be happy he had found Wade first, tried to be happy that at least Wade was home. He tried to have faith in his friend's basic moral code, that these men were at least part of Wade’s list. That maybe they had acted first to bring this much death to Spider-Man's backdoor. Peter breathed out a sigh of relief at the sound of Wade dropping his swords. Peter watched the line of tension drop from Wade's shoulders and arms. Peter's smile widened feeling Wade's brown eyes watching him, seeing him, even under his mask.

"Petey… Petey. You gotta call Preston." Wade's voice was tired and hoarse even for him.

Peter leaped forward when Wade's head tried to turn away from him. No! Don't look. He can't look.

Peter's boots splashed the rest of his way to Wade, his gloved fingers sticking to Deadpool's mask in his panic. Wade would never forget if he saw it now. He would run and get worse. Peter licked over his lips as he filled Wade's vision with his face and shoulders.

"Hey, look at me,” Peter spoke in a rush, nodding slowly when he felt like Deadpool’s masked eyes were on him. Peter’s wide brown eyes searched Wade's mask. “Okay." Peter nodded rapidly, trying to think.

Wade had said, Preston. His list brought him here because of Ellie not because of me. Peter thought quickly.

"Okay. Got it. I got you. I'm right here, it's okay. Just...just a bad day right. Tomorrow will be better." Peter smiled weakly, he wouldn't abandon Wade, no matter how much it hurt him.

Peter wouldn't yell and he wouldn't turn him away because he protected someone without thinking. He needed to get Wade away from here. Get Miles away from here. Call Preston. He had to check on Ellie. Peter thought quickly, his brain rushing through all the things that needed to happen quickly.

#asks #answers #spideypool series #i forgot how much i love that fic #fanfiction asks #tw gore #tw violence #thank you for the ask!

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another-dra-anew · 3 years

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Chapter 1: Behind the Scenes!

To celebrate the end of Chapter 1, have some behind the scenes info! From various fun facts, screenshots from my working process, to explanations for how I worked out the trial, and snippets of conversations had with people who have spoilers.

Under the cut, to keep from spoiling anyone!

Fun Facts

-I only thought of the detail regarding Kurokawa fighting back (the spilled brown sugar) as I was writing that post! I just figured it would be nice to add in, and helpful to show later that Kurokawa was attacked in the Dining Hall -The exorcism scene would’ve actually happened, and I did briefly plan it, but I figured it may raise too many death flags, and just didn’t end up working it into my post schedule. Also, Maeda’s pendant he receives from Kurokawa in the prologue is based off of one of my own! -You were supposed to receive a gift from Kurokawa when her body is found, in the post stating that we’ve entered Deadly Life, but I forgot to include it when writing said post... Future gifts will be given when a student dies! For now though, they both get lumped in at the end of Nzo4s post -Speaking of Nzo4, I wonder why they were bleeding that much, and why we don’t seem to have had a casualty out of the thirteen members of current cast!

Post Schedule

Aforementioned briefly in section above, Fun Fact two! I use this minimal post schedule to organize how things will go in order of how many FTEs, Maedas general schedule, when my events are, etc etc! It’s helpful to have that as a reminder, especially when I’m writing Maeda’s selections for where he’ll go! Look at what I had for Chapter 1 at the very end!

Victim + Culprit

In most Beta drafts, Kurokawa actually lived to the end, or at least Chapter 4! Once I had her and Inori set to die in Chapter 1 though, that stayed the same, even as minor revisions were made. Kurokawa was generally set as traitor, or was up to something strange, even taking canon Kisaragis place at one point, while Inori just rotated as I needed her too- she was Chapter 3 killer for a bit though. Chapter 1 was the very first chapter I finalized for who would die, the others continued to shift around some, but once I had this one down the way it is now, I was finished!

Case

Did anyone notice Maeda’s lie that got uncaught? He claimed everyone had given their alibi, and only a few were verifiable- but we never asked Higa or Mekaru about their alibis. There was originally a scene wherein Tsurugi returned to his room, which would help prove his innocence later, as Tomori accompanied him, and didn’t see any guns. I made numerous mini post schedules throughout the trial trying to outline just what I’d do next, but I ended up deviating from all- at one point, you’d have had the first rebuttal showdown against Yamaguchi,

Motive

I figured it’d be fun to put a spin on the typical “Oh noooo, your loved one” motive; the motive was specifically designed to target Inori, as she was while not the one most likely to solve murders, the one most likely to prevent a death, due to her medical skills. Other characters are decent at First-Aid, but Inori stands alone as the sole person equipped to fix, let’s say, a stab to the spine, or to the lung. Here’s the full list of who everyone saw in their videos! Sibling(s): Maeda, Kurokawa, Maki, Uehara, Yamaguchi, Iranami Friend(s): Mekaru, Taira, Parent(s): Otori, Higa, Full family: Tsurugi, Kobashikawa, Tomori, Hatano No one: Inori

Execution Tidbits

The title (Adam of Loving Labor) is inspired by a line from Frankenstein! “I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.” The original execution concept for Inori involved her operating on herself, being told that if she could save a certain amount of peoples lives, she’d be able to leave, having made up for what she had done, but she’d have to provide her own blood, organs, etc, in order to do it: However, upon removing the needed parts, it’d be revealed that she’d only help create more humanoid Monokumas. After an attempt to run while still extremely weak, she’d die of blood loss, and collapse, before being discarded of in some sort of way, with her corpse left to stay there, no one caring to come get her and mourn, showing how she was truly just disposable (in her view.) My decision to re-include Inori being operated on/having her organs used was really last minute- as I was finishing up her motive video post. For months, it would’ve ended with her dying as patient pushed her, due to wounds she had sustained while operating on him.

Quotes

From when it was thought Tsurugi was dead: “BRUH” “tfw everyone likes the optimism twink more than u so u try and get them all killed by killing him first” minor gore/head/brain trauma tw, in italics, skip whats italicized if that’d trigger you!: “haruhiko stomped on tsurugis head with his boots, thats what caused the wound” “how * stomp* dare * stomp* you * stomp* beat * stomp* teruya * stomp* you * stomp* bitch * stomp stomp stomp*" “haru walkin round the halls with tsurugi brain matter on his gucci boots “ all from one person - “shaFUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK /// AHHHHHH /// TSU!!!!!!!!!! /// FUCK YOU. IVE GENUINELY NEVER BEEN SO CRUSHED BY A CHARACTER DEATH BEFORE When it was discovered he was alive “MY SWEET BOY? HEZ ALIVE” “HE NEEDS HELP BUT IF WE GO WHAT IF HE DIES ALONE WAAA” “i was originally gonna post the "tsu is fucking dead" post and then the investigation post right after it but. decided a few hours of pain is good for the soul”

Misc

I’ll take note of some more of these to include next time, but a line from Tsurugi, vs what it was when I was drafting the post, and didn’t write it out in full: Tsurugi - Hey, can everyone stop for a sec? It’s overwhelming to have that kinda reaction and attention on you, especially when already breaking down. Tsurugi - …Good, good, thank you all! Now, Maeda? You hear me okay? Look at me if you can; you don’t have to make eye contact, just look over here. Versus Tsurugi - maeda. stop being a bitch My favorite characters to write during trial: Inori, Higa, Tomori, Maeda My least favorite characters to write during trial: Tsurugi, Hatano It was nice to explore Inoris dialogue, and how she’d try to subvert the trial to point fingers at someone else, and then setting up the other characters reactions and the like was very fun! I Hate Writing Hatano. I’m stupid and always forget her characterization so she feels bland, and like she doesn’t stand out... I redesigned her some, but right as the trial came to close... Then with Tsurugi, I worried too much about him coming across as a all-knowing character there to save the day.

Screenshots

i actually dont have anymore screenshots whoopsie 3 anywayss be on the lookout for more stuff ™ coming your way soon!

#dra #behind the scenes #dra behind the scenes #spoilers

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just-jordie-things · 5 years

Text

What Happened 27 Years Later - Richie Tozier

word count: 18k warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, gore summary: 27 years after the horrid summer of ‘89, (y/n) gets a call that the Losers Club need her to come back to Derry to put an end to It once and for all. But she’s got quite a history with Richie Tozier, and she’s not sure how great of an idea seeing him again is. (a/n): after IT Chapter 2 I got the inspiration to write for the fandom again, not sure if I'll stick with it or not but enjoy this super long fic anyways lolol

___

When Mike Hanlon called on that fate damning day, (y/n) had almost forgotten that it had been twenty some odd years since she’d seen her childhood friends. Or even heard from them. And despite the wave of nostalgia she felt when she heard his voice, a part of her still wanted to make up a reason as to why she couldn’t go back to Maine. Any excuse would have worked, she was an excellent liar.

“(y/n), you have to come back,” Mike had pleaded into the line. “IT’s back, (y/n). We promised”

Her heart sank to her gut, and it was as though her insides were digesting themselves. All rational thought told her to decline, to go back on her promise, to tell Mike she would never step foot in Derry again. But instead, what came out of her mouth was-

“Of course. I’ll get the first flight out tomorrow”

It was like her instincts kicked in and spoke for her, knowing that she was going to do everything in her power to avoid going back to that hellhole of a town. For years she’d rebuilt her life, pushed down her trauma, lost the memories of the horrors that occured when she was just a child. And not even just that fucking clown.

“See you soon, (y/n/n). RIchie will be glad to know you’re coming”

He hung up before she could catch her breath, not having heard either of those names in… well, twenty seven years. ___

“(y/n/n)! Richie! Get the hell over here before we fuckin’ leave without you!” Eddie screamed from outside, where him and the rest of the Losers Club were waiting with their bikes to head to the quarry.

“We’ll just meet you there!” Richie called back through (y/n’s) open window. She was preoccupied with packing up her backpack with adventure necessities.

“No we won’t!” (y/n) added in a holler, shaking her head at Richie. “Come on, let’s go now” She said, throwing her backpack on her shoulders.

“No,” Richie whined as he dragged his feet after her. “Can’t we go on our own in a few minutes?

“Why?” (y/n) laughed, grabbing a can of rootbeer from the fridge on her way out the door. “That desperate for some alone time?” She added in an overly theatrical sultry tone, laughing at her own funny voice.

Being Richie’s best friend had definitely rubbed off on her.

“Well, yeah” Richie chuckled, hoping he could just laugh over the awkwardness.

(y/n) spun on her heel, the corner of her lip tugging upwards even though she bit her cheek to keep from grinning. It was kinda hard not to smile at him when he gave her that dorky look.

“Come on,” She giggled softly, tugging on his wrist with the hand that wasn’t holding a rootbeer, and pressing a quick and chaste kiss to his cheek. “Our friends are waiting”

With that, he groaned, but nevertheless followed her out the door.

He’d follow her anywhere. ___

They were going to meet at a chinese restaurant. Well, the chinese restaurant, the only one in the small town of Derry. The one that they went to after getting plastered prom night, the one they went to to pick up dumplings to sneak into the Aladdin. It had so many hazy memories surrounding it. The more (y/n) tried to remember, the less she could actually recall.

It almost felt like they were made up. Instead of being precious childhood memories, they felt like dreams she’d had years ago and could only vaguely remember. They were real, though, right?

It was strange, second guessing herself when it came to some of her memories of growing up in Derry. Especially the ones with-

“(y/n),” A voice announced behind her, like they’d forgotten her name until the moment they saw her standing outside the restaurant. She spun around, staring wide eyed at Big Bill Denbrough. “Hey” He breathed out, and once again her instincts kicked in, making her feet move until she was in his arms, hugging him tightly, and burying her face in his coat.

“I can’t believe… I can’t believe you’re here. That I’m here even” She chuckled bittersweetly as she pulled away, eyes flickering over Bill’s features. He’d aged well, all things considered.

“Yeah, me neither, to be honest,” He gave a half assed laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well look at you, what are you up to these days?”

“I uh… I’m living in New York now…” She started, nodding her head slowly. “Trying to be a journalist but… it’s hard these days, you know?”

“Oh really? I’m writing too… got a few things published but I’m in a bit of a stump right now”

(y/n) gave him a small smile, and nodded her head. She had dealt with her fair share of writer’s block.

Mike was the next to show up, and again they played catch up, and he told them that he’d started working at the library, and had never left Derry. This confused both Bill and (y/n) but neither criticized him for it.

Then came Beverly, whose presence was enough to make things easier, and conversation seemed less forced. It must be her wit and charm. They were all grateful that she didn’t grow out of it.

Eddie arrived not too long after, jittery and awkward as usual, but it was endearing.

Ben gave them all a surprise, he’d grown up real well, and seemed to finally have some confidence in himself as well. (y/n) started to wonder if everyone really was doing as great as they were saying. If they were all doing better than her.

Or maybe it was because she wasn’t around.

The more the others started to catch up and get into a more natural conversation, the quieter she became, observing them, seeing how happy they all were together. She debated whether they would notice if she left right now, if she turned and walked down the alley, and then flagged down a cab to take her straight back to the airport.

“Well look at all you motherfuckers standing around outside in the cold!”

Suddenly she was drawn right back into reality, perking up to see Richie Tozier getting out of a cab, rubbing his hands together and then stuffing them into his coat pockets. He was grinning from ear to ear, that same, dorky, adorable grin. That grin made (y/n) certain that she was remembering Derry correctly, that it wasn’t all made up in her head.

His smile went soft when his gaze landed on her, while Bill was greeting him with a hug, and Eddie was making fun of how he must’ve never cut his hair, which hung in messy curls just past his ears.

“Hey,” He said, after what felt like a lifetime passed. Bill let go of him and he wandered up to (y/n), a disbelieved scoff of a laugh escaping his lips. “Wow, look at you, toots,” His hands wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing them gently as he smiled at her up and down. “Sure grew up to be a Maxim model huh?”

Finally, she made a sound, laughing and punching his shoulder before he tugged her against him for a hug.

“Well c’mere rascal,” He said as he wrapped his arms around her tight, and it felt natural to rest her cheek against his chest. “Missed ya”

“Missed you too, Rich,” She mumbled against his coat. Even though she hadn’t missed him until she saw him again, just now. “But- uh- what about you?” She asked, pulling away far too quickly for Richie’s liking, and wrapping her arms around herself. It was to keep warm, but Richie knew it was a defense mechanism.

“Oh, you know, LA, radioshow, adult life and all that bullshit” He rolled his eyes, and (y/n’s) lips parted as though to convince him otherwise, but she quickly shut it and nodded her head awkwardly.

“Right” She mumbled, and everyone filed into the restaurant. ___

“Alright, my turn. What’s your dream job?” (y/n) asked curiously while she unrolled a fruit roll up.

“My dream job?” Richie scoffed at the question. “We’re paying a game where you can ask anything you want, and I have to answer honestly. And you still haven’t asked how big my-”

“Beep beep!” (y/n) screeched before giggling. “Jesus Rich, it’s my turn, and that’s my question”

“Alright alright…” Richie trailed off, staring up at the sky while he thought.

They’d been laying on her roof for a few hours now. Originally they’d just come outside because the sun was setting, and (y/n) thought it would be neat to watch. But the sun had long set, and the stars were twinkling in the inky sky now. They’d gone back inside, only to get a blanket to rest on, and snacks to keep them energized through their game.

“What do you think I’d even be good at?” He finally asked. “I mean, really, besides flipping burgers at Burger King, what is there for me?”

“What?” (y/n) hummed, looking over at him and furrowing her brows. “Richie, you’re good at everything. You could be… a professional dancer-”

“What the fuck!?”

“Or a doctor-”

“Opposite sides of the spectrum toots-”

“Maybe a love doctor then,” She giggled, and then looked over to see Richie furrowing his brows and shaking his head at her ridiculousness. “What? You’re flirty, you’ve got moves. But if not that then-”

“Why do you believe in me so fucking much?” He cut her off again, this time quietly, and his eyes stared into hers seriously, trying to figure her out.

“What do you mean?” She replied. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Of course, he could give her his endless list of reasons why she shouldn’t. But she’d spoken so confusedly, like the very idea of not believing in him never once crossed her mind. Something about it was so sweet, so innocent, so loving, that he forgot all about his hidden insecurities, and instead was overcome with adoration for this girl.

He realized he must’ve been thinking and staring at her for too long, because her brows drew together like she was worried about him.

“Richie? Are you alright?”

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and his hand reached out to take hers, the one that wasn’t holding a fruit roll up. Despite blushing at the action while he intertwined their fingers, she was still confused by the action.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ marry you one day” He announced, and (y/n) let out a laugh, surprised by the comment.

“Why?” She asked through her giggles, eyeing their connected hands.

It wasn’t like it was the first time Richie held her hand. He did it all the time, the boy craved physical attention. But something about laying on the roof, stargazing, and his hand in hers, was different.

“No one in this goddamn town’s good enough for you anyways. Your other options are a group of psychopaths, or the vapid dick-twitches from school-”

“Alright, alright,” (y/n) squeezed his hand, getting him to stop running his mouth. “So you’re my ideal husband then, huh?”

“Sure am toots,” Richie grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “What do you say, when we do it, we move the fuck outta Maine”

“When we do it?” (y/n) repeated, and moved to lay on her side to give him her full attention. Their hands still clasped together between them. “You’re serious? You actually want to-”

“Hell yeah,” He answered sincerely, but the dopey smile on his face made (y/n) curious if he was being serious or not. “Why not?”

She let out a huff, eyes wide, somehow still surprised by Richie and his antics. After all these years, he still managed to sweep her off her feet with surprise.

“Because we’re seventeen!” She exclaimed. “I don’t even know where I want to go to college yet- or even what to major in and-and you want to get married?”

“Hm,” Richie hummed, as he contemplated it for a moment. “How about this then, when we’re, say, thirty? If you’re not married yet, I’ll marry you”

“Uh huh, and if we lose touch? You just gonna show up out of nowhere with a ring?” (y/n) teased, and Richie faked a glare towards her.

“You think we’re gonna lose touch? Us? No way. Not in a million years”

She nodded her head side to side in agreement. There wasn’t a chance the two of them could lose touch. They were best friends, if not just a little bit closer, and dangerously sitting on the line of something more.

“Okay then, a marriage pact it is,” (y/n) chuckled. “Shouldn’t there be like… rules?”

“Nope,” Richie said, popping his lips dramatically, and making her furrow her brows in silent question. “Because then you’ll make a rule against me killin’ all your boyfriends so I can marry ya”

She scoffed out a laugh, before going instantly silent as she saw the serious look on his face. She stared at him for a minute, trying to read his complex expression. Richie was fairly good at hiding his emotions, but she had a way of getting under his skin and getting him to confess to whatever it was he was hiding.

Tonight all she had to do was raise her eyebrows, and the trashmouth caved.

“Or we can say fuck the pact, and just get married next year” He told her. And the girl’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

“What?” She mumbled.

“We’ll be eighteen,” Richie shrugged. “And then we can move outta this awful fuckin’ town together. I’ll follow you, to whatever school you choose, I’ll go with you. I probably won’t get in but that’s alright, I’ll work, and help make rent, it’ll be fun. Adult life shit”

(y/n) laughed breathlessly, her eyes full of wonder at how he’d thought up all of this in that eccentric mind of his.

“You want to marry me that bad, huh?” She asked softly, and Richie just grinned back at her. “And you want to live with me? Damn Tozier… I thought you were a commitment-phobe?”

“Toots, I’ve been hanging around you for… ten whole years now,” He told her, and his thumb began to stroke over the back of hers. “I don’t think I’m scared of committing to you. Do you?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly this was less fun and light hearted, and more sincere, and heavy. And his seriousness was starting to make her heart beat a little harder in her chest. And gravity was weighing down on her, pinning her body to the blanket and shingles underneath her. Tears welled in her eyes from the pressure of the situation she’d found herself in.

Richie’s thumb still caressed hers.

After a long moment, she finally shook her head, unable to find her voice.

“You alright?” He asked, “You look like you’re gonna cry”

(y/n) chuckled sadly, wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

“Sorry, you just… you’ve got me thinking about the future now” She told him, and the corner of his lip tugged into a smile.

“Gotta think about it at some point toots,” He said. “Can’t stay here forever, seventeen, in Derry. That’s a nightmare. This place is a nightmare”

“Yeah, it is,” She agreed quietly, eyes wandering back up to the sky for a moment. “Not all of it though” She added, eyes wandering towards Richie’s again, only to find his gaze fixed on her still.

He gave her that big dorky grin that she loved so much, and then laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. Her smaller frame fit perfectly against his, and she let out a sign, content. Perfectly content.

“Alright then, Tozier,” She hummed, shutting her eyes as she used his arm as a pillow. “When do you want to start this adult life?” ___

Everyone was full from the abundant amount of food they’d ordered, and were relaxing together. The awkward tension had fizzled out as Bill tried not to brag about his novels, Ben hopelessly flirted with Beverly, and Eddie complained about the smoking habit most everyone had. No one could deny the hole in the conversation where Stanley was supposed to be, but they tried their best to remember him how he was, and honor his life.

And then came the hard part. The part where Mike told them about the disappearances, about the numerous children that have gone missing. Just like they had twenty seven years ago.

“It’s back,” Mike said solemnly, and suddenly the laughter died, and the seven of them went silent. “It has to be Pennywise. How else could fifteen children go missing in a week in Derry?”

(y/n) stared down at her hands in her lap, her fingers wringing together anxiously.

She wasn’t sure she could go through this again. Her trauma had just gotten under control, as the years passed she remembered less and less of what happened, and that helped, but it could only do so much when every other thought she had tonight was a horrible memory of her life here. It had taken so many kids when she was growing up, and once the Losers Club had figured out what was going on, she went to bed every night afraid It would take her too. And that fear lasted for years, until she was finally old enough to strike out on her own.

It seemed the further away she’d gotten from Derry, the more distant the memories were too.

Finally, when it was too late to stick around and the owners were silently begging the group to leave, they started saying their goodbyes, and headed to the door to call cabs.

“Hey, toots, wait up,” Richie called while (y/n) was putting her coat on and making a bee-line for the door. She paused, reluctantly, and then turned to look at him. “You stayin’ at the hotel up the street?”

“It’s the only one in Derry… so… yeah” She answered, quiet, and sheepish.

“Wanna split a cab?” He asked, and she didn’t know how to politely decline his offer, so she nodded silently, and he followed her outside.

November in Derry was relentlessly cold, and even in her coat, with her hands stuffed deep into it’s pockets, (y/n) was shivering, and bouncing on her feet in hopes of producing enough energy to keep warm. While Richie was calling for a cab, she was watching her exhales visibly blow out in front of her.

“Alright, should just be a few more minutes” He told her as he stuck his phone back in his pocket.

“Hopefully sooner” (y/n) mumbled back, bringing her hands to her mouth, and cupping them together so she could blow warm air into them.

“So you’re still always cold huh?” Richie half joked. “Nothing’s really changed then”

She looked up at him for a moment, but bashfully diverted her gaze when she saw him looking back at her, and decided instead to study her boots.

“Everything’s changed” She said quietly, shamefully.

She felt embarrassed that she’d done little to nothing to keep in touch with her friends. Especially Richie. But it felt even worse to realize that she’d just about forgotten them, replaced them, and created a new life in order to further stomp away the few good memories she did have in Derry.

“Yeah, I’ll bet it has” Richie replied soberly.

“And I know it has, because I have no clue what to say to you” (y/n) spoke in a whisper, her eyes round and full of sadness as she blatantly didn’t look at him. But Richie wasn’t afraid of staring her down.

“Yeah,” He agreed. “Me neither”

She finally met his eyes for more than two seconds, a sad sort of smile tugging on her lips. He returned it, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“It’s really strange seeing you again, toots,” He told her, the old nickname never died, but it did sound more depressing than it once did. “I uh… I can’t believe I almost…”

“Forgot about me?” (y/n) finished wistfully, eyebrows drawing upwards in a knowing manner.

Richie only nodded his head, and he was the one to stare down at his shoes now.

“Yeah…” (y/n) sighed, wrapping her arms around herself as she felt the coldness spread further throughout her body now. “I mean, we were…”

“Who would’ve guessed it, huh?” He spoke sarcastically, kicking at the pavement of the sidewalk they were waiting at.

She looked at him again, at a loss of words. It broke her heart to look at him now, to see how handsomely he’d grown up, knowing he had a whole life of his own now, without her. And they’d once planned their life together.

“Cab’s here” Richie announced when a taxi rounded the corner.

They fell back into silence as it pulled up, and Richie got the door for her to get in first. Always a gentleman, (y/n) thought to herself, before remembering the day he’d gotten into a mud fight with Beverly over something she couldn’t quite remember. Well, always a gentleman with me.

She sighed contently as she relaxed in the back of the tobacco smelling cab, enjoying the hot air blowing, and rubbing her numb palms together to heat up quicker.

Richie hastily gave the driver the address, and again, it was silent.

When he let out a heavy breath, (y/n) looked over to see him fogging up the glass, and then drawing a smiley face. She let out a laugh at the childishness, and he looked over at her with an amused smile.

Maybe not that much had changed.

When they got to the hotel, they split the pay, and Richie paid the tip, even though (y/n) argued to split that too.

They walked inside together, but stalled awkwardly in the hall by the elevators.

“I’m- uh, on the fourth floor” (y/n) said, though she wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t asked, and she wasn’t trying to invite him to her room by any means.

“I’m on the second” Richie replied, bopping his head in a nod. She felt relieved that he’d even responded, since she’d said something so weird.

(y/n) was mentally kicking herself, begging the elevator to get to the first floor faster, so she could go to her room and be alone sooner. Probably to cry. She guessed when she shut the door and was in privacy, the stress would overcome her and she’d have a mini breakdown.

“You want to go to the hotel bar for a couple drinks?” Richie spoke suddenly, just as the elevator doors opened.

It would be so easy to jump inside and press the fourth floor button and get the hell out of this situation that made her palms clammy and her knees weak.

“I’d love that” She said instead, a smile spreading across her lips that took away some of the nervous tension that blanketed the two of them. He grinned back at her, and they abandoned the elevator to head back to the lobby. ___

After they each had a drink, it became easier to talk to one another. And slowly the tension went away, and they could catch up about their lives. (y/n) was eager to hear about Richie’s radio show, giggling when she realized that it probably had been his dream job.

“I should’ve known that you would find a job where you could keep all your voices,” She giggled, swirling the ice in her drink around with her straw. “Probably talked more in them than in your usual voice”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended,” Richie declared in a british accent that he’d definitely gotten better at. “But I’ll let it slide, since it’s you” He finished in his normal voice.

“Alright then,” She giggled softly before taking a drink. “So, besides work, what else is new? What’s Los Angeles like?”

“Loud, full of angry people. I love it. You would’ve liked it-” Richie stopped himself with an awkward cough. “At-at one time anyways, you would’ve liked it. But you’re probably shacked up somewhere real nice in New York, huh? Big city?”

“It’s alright,” She shrugged a shoulder. “I live in an overpriced studio apartment that I can’t afford, and can’t afford to lose” She told him, making him chuckle.

“A journalist in New York City,” Richie mused as he looked at her.

She looked so goddamn pretty, as always. Her hair falling in messy waves around her shoulders, wearing a simple sweater and jeans, the coat she’d been wearing hanging off the back of her chair. She’d angled the seat to be facing him rather the counter, giving him her undivided attention. Well, him and the near empty drink in her hand. She was smiling, that cute smile that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing for all these years.

“Told ya you were destined for something great-”

“Rich” (y/n) laughed, shaking her head shyly.

“What? That’s amazing!” Richie said proudly, and then in a softer and more sincere tone, “You’re amazing”

Her cheeks were pink, and she stared down at her drink so that he wouldn’t see her blushing, but he saw anyways.

“So, now’s the big question” Richie said, and she grinned back at him curiously, finishing her drink and flagging won the bartender for another.

“Shoot” She said, propping her elbow on the counter, and leaning her head in her hand while she studied him.

“What’s the boyfriend situation?” He asked boldly, and while the question made him nervous, her certainly didn’t show it. He kept a straight but questioning face, raising a brow at the girl after she hesitated for a few moments too long.

“Uh.. no, actually,” She answered, and happily took the new drink from the bartender, just glad to have something to hold onto. “You?”

“No boyfriends here” Richie grinned, and (y/n) chuckled but gave him a pointed look. “Nah, you know me. Dating isn’t my scene” He said, setting his beer bottle on the counter and watching her look skeptically at him.

“Dating isn’t your scene?” She repeated in a monotone of disbelief. RIchie shrugged and nodded, but the smile on his face said that he knew otherwise. “You tried to marry me, Rich” She reminded with a small laugh.

“Well, that was different,” He answered simply, but the girl’s brows furrowed and her lips parted in surprise as she shook her head. “You were… you,” He clarified. “But, I suppose you know that” He finished in a near mumble. However, it did not clear up her confusion.

“Rich…”

“You don’t remember, do you?” He asked, and she shook her head, waiting for him to explain himself. “That night I told you I wanted to marry you?” He suggested, hoping that she’d be able to remember.

He knew as well as the others that recalling memories of their childhood in Derry was the damn hardest thing to do. But he was desperate for her to recall this one specific night.

After a few sips of her drink, and a troubled silence while she racked her brain, her eyes widened, and her head shot up to look at him, and he knew. She remembered. ___

“Alright then Tozier,” (y/n) mumbled as she nuzzled her head on Richie’s arm.

The small affectionate action alone nearly made his heart burst out of his chest. He figured she could hear it, or feel it even. Her chest was pressed against his, she had to feel his wild heart beating against hers. But if she did, she didn’t mention it.

“When do you want to start this adult life?” She finished, sleepy eyes meeting his. The faint smile on her lips made them look so kissable.

“As soon as fucking possible toots,” He answered with his usual dorky grin. “Whenever you’re ready to get outta here” He added in a more sincere tone. I’ll just… follow you”

“You’re really gonna follow me wherever I go to school, and marry me?” (y/n) asked, swallowing the nervous laugh in her throat.

It was quiet for a moment, which was very unusual for Richie, but then again, everything about his friendship with (y/n) was unusual for him.

“Of course,” He told her, not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. “Anywhere you wanna go, as long as you’ll take me”

“Of course” She mimicked him, voice quiet, barely a whisper, but he still caught what she said.

“Well then, next year” Richie grinned, and (y/n) nodded in agreement.

“Next year” She repeated.

Richie smiled at her, eyes flickering over her features, admiring how pretty she was in the moonlight. She was pretty in any lighting though. His free hand, the one that wasn’t trapped from her lying on his arm, reached up to tentatively trace over her cheekbone, before pushing her hair back behind her ear. He didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned rosey pink from the gentle action, but he knew full well that he had that effect on her.

“You trying to make me fall in love with you tonight?” She asked, in that soft sleepy voice that made his heart soar. She practically whispered it against his lips, the words filling the short inch between them.

He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that brought him to do it, but the moment was there and he just couldn’t not kiss her. Not with her looking at him like that, not with her laying so close. He was just dying to do it.

So he did, he closed the space between them, and with the hand he still had on her cheek, guided her lips to meet his in a soft and sweet kiss. So sweet, (y/n) couldn’t quite believe it was Richie Tozier kissing her. She wasn’t sure he’d ever been this gentle, even with her.

They parted slowly, and her eyes fluttered open to see Richie smiling back at her.

“Don’t have to make you do anything toots,” He murmured, finally answering her question. His thumb caressed over her cheekbone. “You did that all on your own”

She let out a huff of a laugh, eyes flickering between his, trying to figure out if he’d meant that, or if it was just another one of his grand romantic gestures. She didn’t find even a sliver of deception.

His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and he chuckled a bit, making her brows knit confusedly.

Confusion seemed to be the theme of the night.

“You taste like fruit roll up” He told her, and they both burst out laughing.

“Shut up” (y/n) scolded between giggles, swatting at his chest affectionately.

“Mhm, make me” He said teasingly, leaning back in again, this time letting her be the one to initiate the kiss. She’d wasted no time in doing so. ___

“Oh my god…” (y/n) murmured, staring at Richie with wide eyes, and he chuckled at the reaction.

“That forgettable, huh?” He joked, and she rolled her eyes. “No… I know it’s this place that made you forget. We all forgot stuff, you know”

“But that… I can’t believe… I mean-”

She cut herself off, shaking her head, a rush of embarrassment flooding over her.

“I know,” Richie told her, hoping she wouldn’t feel guilty about it. He’d forgotten too, for a while anyways. “But, we’re here now?” He suggested, in an attempt to lift her spirits. “I’m staying here the rest of the week”

“Me too,” (y/n) said, a smile pulling on her lips before hastily finishing off her drink. Richie watched with a startled expression as she drank the rest of her liquor, and set it back on the counter. “Wanna go do something stupid?”

“I love a woman that’s forward” Richie laughed, and followed her out of the bar without question. ___

“You know. When you suggested we do something stupid, this isn’t exactly what I thought you had mind” Richie said.

“What’d you think I meant?” She replied innocently, peering up at him from under her lashes.

“It’s just… so cold”

She giggled, poking his bare chest, and then turning back to face the pool in front of them.

The artificial blue waters reflected off the plain white walls and the slick tiles of the room, the only light there being the spotlights from outside that barely seeped in through the windows, and the moonlight reflecting off the waters.

It was probably one in the morning by now, and the pool had long been closed. And they were standing at the edge of it, chilly in their underwear.

As she looked down at the seven foot deep end of the pool, (y/n) was reminded of standing on a cliffside, and peering down at waters a hundred feet below her.

“I dare you to jump first” She told him, too nervous that the water would be even colder than the air in here.

“What? No, I dare you to jump first” He responded, and all the drinks in his system started to show.

She giggled at him, shaking her head and then staring down at the water again. She was starting to think that this wasn’t her best drunk idea. If they got caught, they’d definitely get kicked out of the hotel, and there was no way she was going to stay at her parents’ house while she was in town. She hadn’t even told them she was in Derry this week.

“Okay, maybe this was a bad idea” She muttered as her tipsy brain began to overthink the consequences of skinny dipping in a hotel pool in the middle of the night.

“Oh come on I didn’t raise you to be a pussy” Richie said, and before she could process what he was doing, grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him as he leapt off the edge of the pool and cannonballed into the deep end.

She barely even had time to let out a screech before she was submerged in the freezing water. She thrashed her legs around quickly to resurface, letting out a surprised gasp. Richie came up moments after her, pushing his wet hair back off his forehead and laughing almost maniacally.

(y/n) playfully scowled, shoving her hands in the water at him, and splashing a big wave of water into his face.

“You’re the fucking worst!” She shouted at him, her voice and the sloshing water echoing loudly in the high ceilinged room. Despite her scolding, she was laughing, and unable to contain the grin on her face.

Maybe it was the three drinks, maybe it was the joy of the risk they were taking just by being here. But she was overcome with excitement and laughter as they got into a splash war. The first one to be a baby and whine about the chlorine in their eyes loses.

“Ow!” Richie cried out.

He lost.

His fists were rubbing his eyes, and (y/n) stopped splashing him, trying to stifle her giggles as she swam closer to him while he rubbed his irritated eyes.

“You’re a baby,” She teased. “Come on, I splashed you like- twice-!”

She was cut off by a screech when Richie suddenly splashed a huge wave of icy water, directly at her face, before grabbing her shoulders and shoving her under the water.

“You tricked me!” (y/n) gasped when she came above the water again, teeth chattering while Richie just laughed at how funny she looked with her hair stuck all over her face.

“You look like a fucking newborn” He gagged in between laughter, pushing her hair back behind her head.

“Fuck off” She chastised, a breathless laugh escaping her lips.

They were treading water pretty close to one another, and his hands were still cradled around her head. Twenty seven or so years ago, he would’ve kissed her right now. He probably wouldn’t have been able to help himself either, just like every other time he’d ever kissed her.

“Truce?” (y/n) asked, and he laughed, nodding his head, and taking his hands off her in order to shake her outstretched hand.

“Truce” He agreed.

They swam around a bit, every once in a while surprising each other by chasing the other. At one point, while (y/n) was swimming away from Richie, he’d grabbed her by the ankle, taking the risk of getting kicked in the face, and tugged her back towards him.

She was drunkenly laughing at the action as his arms wrapped around her torso to trap her, proudly grinning that he’d won this round. Her hands were pressed against his chest as she giggled up at him. Her eyes twinkled the same way they used to when she laughed, whether sober or drunk, they always lit up.

“Humor me for a minute?” He asked, and she looked at him peculiarly before nodding her head.

“Alright”

“What do you remember?” He asked, and she blew a raspberry as she raked her mind for the memories that felt vivid enough to be real.

“I remember… the Barrens…” She said slowly, and drifted out of his arms. “I remember jumping off the cliff in our underwear, and… and we found a turtle”

“That’s the most important thing you remember?” Richie scoffed, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Shut up I’m thinking. Can’t think when you run your mouth”

“Alright alright, continue” The trashmouth waved his hand dramatically for her to go on, and watched her smile as another memory came to mind.

“I remember Prom night,” She added, and he smacked his hand over his eyes, groaning with embarrassment, and making her giggle. “Dancing with… uh… Eli? Eli Hopkins?”

“Fuck you” He muttered, but she continued.

“And you scared the shit out of him. You were too chicken shit to ask me to Prom yourself, but had no problem making the poor boy terrified to tears over dancing with me!” She teased him while laughing loudly.

“Eli Hopkins was a- he was a fuckin’ prick! I saved you” He tried to be convincing, but (y/n) didn’t buy it.

“Uh huh,” She said with a scoff of a laugh. “And I remember throwing our own after party, getting wasted and then… well we went to that chinese restaurant we were at earlier”

Richie nodded, recalling the memory perfectly. It was the first time he’d witnessed (y/n) drunk off her ass, and as hilarious as it was, by the end of the night, he’d been genuinely scared for her. That was when it dawned on him that maybe he didn’t just have a little crush.

“Oh! And I remember Street Fighter,” She said, a playful smile on her face. “You were going to-”

“-train, yes, and I did! I was great” Richie finished for her in a serious tone that made her giggle.

“Yeah, and I’d just sit there and drink slushies until you were ready to leave to do something fun,” She reminded him. “Who was I kidding, it was very entertaining to watch you play,” She added more lovingly then she had been. “I remember the night on my roof,” She continued softly, and Richie could already tell she was going to bring up their more intimate memories. “I remember you kissing me, for the first time,” She said, impossibly quieter. Her voice wasn’t echoing anymore.

Richie swallowed thickly as she swam back closer to him so that she didn’t have to raise her voice to share these specific memories.

“And the second time,” She added with a breathless laugh. “At the arcade, after you beat your high score,” Richie smiled back at her as she went on. “And the third time, at… at…”

(y/n) trailed off, brows furrowing together as she tried to remember where they had been, the night that Richie ran up to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her as passionately as she’d seen in the movies.

“After graduation,” Richie told her. “That night, after the ceremony and everything”

Today was the first day of the rest of their lives. Their real lives, the ones they were going to start outside of Derry, and no one was more eager than (y/n) was. She’d bragged for weeks about getting into a college in New York City. Not because of the prestige of the school, or the flashy city, but because it was far enough away from Derry, and the boy-slowly-turning-man was going to come with her.

She hoped.

She hoped he remembered his promise, to follow her wherever she so chooses. But it had been a year since he’d made that promise, and she wasn’t sure that being with her was what he still wanted.

It was no secret that the future was a scary thing to Richie Tozier. He didn’t handle the unknown well, or the part of growing up that required him to be an adult and make adult decisions.

She went home alone after the ceremony. After taking a picture with the rest of the Losers to commemorate their big day, they’d said their goodbyes and parted ways. Surprisingly, Richie left on his own without another word. Which was very out of character for him, everyone had just assumed he’d leave with (y/n). Including (y/n).

So as she began listing out all the things she still needed to pack for New York, she tried her best to push away the troublesome thoughts.

What if Richie didn’t want to be with her anymore? No, they weren’t anything official, and he’d only kissed her twice, which they never really talked about, but it had to count for something. They certainly weren’t platonic kisses. Not to (y/n), at least.

And she hadn’t thought they were platonic coming from him, but maybe… maybe he just didn’t feel the same way she did. They way she thought he did.

When her mother yelled up the stairs for her, she had completely stopped writing in her notebook. After only writing ‘clothes’ and ‘buy laptop’.

“Someone’s outside for you!” Her mother yelled again, and (y/n) set her things aside to head downstairs to see which one of the Loser’s were surprise visiting her.

After how awkwardly they had parted at graduation, she didn’t expect to see Richie standing at the door.

“Hey,” She greeted, forcing a smile on her face. “What’re you doing here?” The words weren’t malicious, more curious, but there was definitely and undertone of hurt in them as she crossed her arms.

“Wanted to… uh…” Richie brought a hand to the behind of his neck, nervously tangling his fingers in his hair, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “See you” He finished lamely.

(y/n) let out a giggle that couldn’t have been contained if she tried, and leaned against the doorframe casually.

“Well, here I am,” She told him. “So why are you really here? You’re a shit liar you know”

Actually, he was a great liar. She just knew him so well now that she could read his body language like an open book. And there was something he was anxious to tell her.

“I should apologize, about today, leaving without….” He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d told her goodbye, what else would he have said or done? “For leaving” He finished.

His eyes squeezed shut before he hung his head, mentally beating himself up for how bad he was at this.

“We all left, why are you sorry for leaving?” (y/n) asked, ducking her head so she could be a bit more under him, since his head was hanging, now she could meet his eyes. She gave him a gentle smile, that soothed him enough to lift his head back up and look at her normally again.

“I just am, alright? I feel like shit about it” He said defensively. (y/n) shook her head at him, brows furrowing.

“Richie, you’re acting weird,” She told him. “Even for you”

“Fuck it, I don’t even know what I’m fuckin’ doing right now” He muttered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and spinning on his heel to get off her porch. “I’ll see you later”

(y/n) let out a silent scoff as he started to walk away, off her porch and down the driveway. Her and Richie rarely had awkward interactions. They always clicked, they were always comfortable. Whatever he wasn’t telling her, was really driving a wedge between them that she didn’t know how to un-wedge.

“Rich, wait!” She called, shutting the front door and heading down the few steps off her porch. “What’s going on?”

He turned back to look at her, standing on the sidewalk now, while she was planted in front of the steps. He threw his arms out in a helpless fashion, before letting out a heavy sign.

“I want to go with you!” He declared in a reluctant confession. “Everywhere. Anywhere, really, I just want to fucking go and- and be there with you”

(y/n) stared at him in shock. Richie wasn’t the loud professions kind of guy, but here he was, yelling what excited and scared him the most in her front yard.

“You do?” She asked breathlessly, like she was scared he was going to take it back and leave. “You’ll come with me? To New York?” Tears welled up in her eyes from relief and nervousness.

“I- Jesus fuck” Richie muttered, before heading back up to her through the dewey grass, practically breaking into a run as he got closer to her.

His hands seized outwards, cupping her face and pulling her against him as he slammed his lips down against hers, kissing her fully, and passionately.

This wasn’t like their other kisses. This wasn’t a gentle kiss in the moonlight, or an excited thoughtless kiss. This was purposeful, and conveyed everything they’d both been harboring for years now.

Her arms lazily reached up to rest her elbows on his shoulders, fingers toying with his hair as their lips met repeatedly and in sync with one another, sharing ardent kisses in between quick breaths.

“Of course I want to go with you,” He mumbled, lips brushing over hers, and then kissing her once more before pulling away to look at her. “I fucking love you”

The tears in her eyes spilled over, streaming down her cheeks and running against Richie’s fingers and palms. A barely audible breathless laugh left her lips.

“I fucking love you too” She whispered back, pushing his glasses up his nose for him before tightly wrapping her arms around him, pressing her lips against his, and then burying her face in his neck.

She remembered standing there for a long time, just crying and embracing as tightly as they had after they’d defeated Pennywise. It would’ve been impossible to break them apart.

(y/n) stared at Richie for a long moment, blinking away the mist in her eyes. He could tell she remembered, because she had that same look on her face that she did at the bar when she’d remembered their first kiss.

“The only thing that would’ve made that better would’ve been if it were pouring rain,” Richie said in a half assed joke. They both laughed weakly. “That’a been some real… real sappy shit”

“It was plenty sappy” (y/n) murmured, swimming just a little bit closer to him. Close enough to tell he was squinting just a little bit without his glasses on, and for a moment she wondered just how blurry she was to him.

“Yeah, well,” Richie coughed, trying to break up the tension. “You brought out the romantic part of me that I didn’t fuckin’ know existed” He laughed, but she smiled softly at him.

“I know,” She whispered. “I… I bought tickets, bus tickets”

Richie stared down at the waters, watching his legs kick back and forth to keep him afloat. This part of the memory ate him up inside, made him sick with nerves, and guilt.

“Two of them. For New York”

He still wouldn’t look at her.

“I waited for you, at the station, begged the driver to wait a few more minutes, so many times”

As (y/n) continued talking, the memory kept coming back to her. Until today, she’d had it in mind that she left Derry without looking back. But she had looked back. She’d looked all over the bus station for Richie that night.

“You never showed” She finished weakly.

Richie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at her.

“I…” He couldn’t even find the right words to say. An apology seemed too small. “I couldn’t… be there,” He said, only to shake his head again and try to find a better way to put it. “With you. In your dream. You- you had a whole life ahead of you, waiting for you in New York, and that proved to be true”

“Richie…” (y/n) murmured sadly, knowing what he was going to say next.

“I didn’t want to get in the way of that. I didn’t realize when I made you that promise that… I was imposing on your dream, while trying to live out mine”

She moved even closer to him, grabbing his hands under the water, squeezing them both securely. Her lips quirked into half a smile as her eyes flickered between his. He had to see her clearly now, seeing she was a mere few inches away from him.

“That was our dream,” She told him softly, sincerely. “I would’ve given anything if you’d come to the station that day”

“Yeah,” Richie mumbled, looking down at the distorted water where she held his hands. “And I’d give anything to go back and fucking run to the bus”

She giggled, and it was a sad sound, but it was still music to his ears.

“I fucked up” He said, and she nodded, unable to deny that.

“Yeah, you did,” She agreed, in a tone too sweet for the occasion. “But… you also brought back memories I can’t believe I lost, so I’ll forgive you”

He grinned at her, and his hands grasped hers more securely to draw her in closer.

“It’s really great to see you again” He told her softly, and (y/n’s) legs slowed in their kicking to keep her afloat, making her lower a bit in the water until her chin rested at the surface.

“Great to see you too” She mumbled, eyes flickering back and forth between his repeatedly. She could still read him as easily as she had when they were kids. She knew he wanted to kiss her. Hell, he probably knew she wanted to kiss him too.

“And you’re not married…” He added, one of his hands releasing hers to wander further down in the water, before settling on her hip and drawing her body against his completely.

“I’m not…” She said, brows crinkling in confusion at his comment.

“And neither am I,” He added, and she nodded, clearly not following. “And I do believe we had a deal, toots”

She giggled, rolling her eyes at the idea of the marriage pact they’d foolishly, drunkenly-in-love made when they were seventeen.

“I see you for the first time in twenty seven years, and you still want to marry me?” She asked, only half teasing, as her hand settled on his shoulder, holding herself against him. She didn’t want him to let go anytime soon.

“You’re the one that taught me to commit, sweetheart,” Richie reminded her, and his nose bumped into hers as he leaned down towards her a bit. “Pretty sure I would’ve waited a hundred and seven years to marry you”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Tozier” (y/n) replied in a murmur, shutting her eyes as she nudged his nose to the side with hers, blindly searching for his lips.

They met with ease, the kiss so electric both were surprised the water didn’t fucking electrocute them to death. Both of Richie’s hands gripped her hips while (y/n’s) hands played with the curly wet strands of his hair. And as soon as that kiss ended, a second began, and all either of them could hear was their erratically beating hearts in their chests and the echo of the waters sloshing around, spilling over the edge of the pool and making the tile floors even slipperier. With each connection of their lips, they became more desperate for more.

Perhaps to make up for time lost, or maybe just because they’d forgotten how good it felt. And good was an understatement.

She whimpered a bit as she wrapped her legs around his hips, trusting him to keep them afloat while his hands roamed over her back, before tangling up in her hair.

When it got a bit too… steamy… to stay treading water in the deep end while making out, they parted just long enough to swim over to the wall, and (y/n) giggled as Richie pulled on her arm to bring her back to him, pressing her up against the edge of the pool, and caging her in with his hands on either side of her, holding onto the lip where the flooring jut out just a bit over the water.

“Much better” He mumbled, making her smile as he leaned down to kiss her again, fully, passionately, it was like their lips still molded perfectly against one another.

She let out a long sign through her nose as she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body to be flush against hers under the water.

“This is my new favorite kiss” He told her, and she giggled against his lips, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“What was your favorite before?” She questioned.

“What was yours?” He shot back.

“I didn’t have one,” She laughed, “I personally ranked them all equally”

“Well, mine was the one on your roof” He answered, and she giggled again.

“Which one? There were like- fifteen that night-” She teased.

“Wow (y/n/n),” He replied, tone thick with sarcasm. “You must really get around, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow at him, and she bit her lip to keep from grinning like too much of an idiot.

“No… no, I’m just a bit of a slut for you” She joked, and pathetically splashed water at his chest. Richie laughed, shaking his head at her.

“Don’t say that,” He told her. “God, that sounds awful, what’re you trying to make me out to be?” She continued to laugh, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

There was nothing but adoration in her eyes, and as usual, Richie couldn’t help himself when he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose, and then leave a peck on her lips as well.

“Coulda been kissin’ you for like thirty years,” He mused. “I really am an idiot”

“Shut up, you’re gonna ruin the moment” (y/n) ordered, drawing his head down close to hers again.

“We’re having a moment?” He replied like a dumbass, and (y/n) just rolled her eyes before pressing her open mouth against his, which did the trick in shutting him up.

“Not if you keep running your mouth” She hummed, as she caught her breath, before sensually kissing him again.

“Hey! You two!”

The pair broke apart, but put no distance between them, even as a flashlight shone in their faces, effectively sobering them up the rest of the way.

“Pool’s closed, horny freaks,” The security guard muttered and shook his head. “Get the hell outta here and back to your rooms before I go report you to my manager”

Richie cussed under his breath, but pulled himself out of the pool anyways, and turned to help (y/n) out as well. The guard waited impatiently as they grabbed their clothes and towels, and scurried out of the room.

The corridors of the hotel were even colder than the water, and as they took the elevator to their floors, both of their teeth were chattering from the unforgiving air conditioning.

“Well that fucking sucked,” Richie grumbled. “Guy totally ruined our moment”

(y/n) scoffed before giggling and swatting an arm at his chest.

The doors opened when they got to the third floor, and Richie dropped a kiss to her hair before stepping out.

“Goodnight, toots” He told her with a half-smirk half-smile that made her heart flutter, just like it used to.

“Night Richie” She murmured back with pink cheeks.

The doors began to close, and he began to head down the hall to his room.

However, before they could shut, and before the elevator could take her one floor higher towards her own room, (y/n) shot her arm out, triggering the sensor that made the door open again, and raced out onto the third floor hallway.

Richie turned around, a grin already growing on his face to see her standing there, looking surprised by her own actions.

“Can- can I stay-”

“Come on, toots,” Richie cut off her stammering, reaching his arm out for her to tuck herself under, and he kept his arm around her the whole walk down the hall. “Let’s go” ___

As the sun seeped in through the cheap thin curtains, (y/n) stirred in her sleep, letting out a whine as she stretched her legs, inadvertently kicking another pair of legs under the covers. Which earned her a playful groan and a chuckle from Richie Tozier, who she realized now had his strong arms wrapped securely around her middle.

“You awake, toots?” He muttered, lips brushing lovingly over her forehead as he spoke. “Better be, ‘cause if you kick in your sleep you’re sleeping on the floor tonight”

The girl leaned her head back, peering up at him with half lidded sleepy eyes. But the sun hit them just right, illuminating the (y/e/c) hues, and for a moment Richie was reminded of the stars.

“You’re that certain I’m staying here tonight?” She teased, fingers toying with the messy locks of hair that fell over his ears.

“Well, seeing as I checked you out of your room this morning…”

“You what?” (y/n) gaped at him, a surprised and tired laugh escaping her throat. Richie shrugged guiltily, but the proud smile on his lips told her that he didn’t regret it one bit.

“Yeah, this morning,” He informed her. “Took a lot of effort to get you fuckin’ off of me though. You still death cuddle in your sleep”

“Shut up” She mumbled, wacking the side of his head lovingly before going back to playing with his hair.

“You know your entire body was on top of me?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes, not even sure she believed him. “It’s like after you were done last night you just passed out-”

“Beep beep, Richie” She hummed with a pointed glare. Although her cheeks flushed pink as she remembered the events of last night, after she’d followed Richie off the elevator, and into his room.

“I can’t believe I didn’t suffocate,” He went on dramatically. “You coulda killed me woman!”

“And yet, you checked me out of my room so I’d stay here the rest of the week” She teased, and bumped the tip of her nose against his affectionately.

Richie smiled down at her, leaning in closer, but before connecting their lips he just had to run his mouth first.

“By the way, you have to get your stuff packed and outta there before noon”

(y/n) leaned backwards so he couldn’t have his satisfactory good morning kiss, brows furrowing.

“And what time is it?” She asked, watching him grumble before looking over his shoulder at the clock on the bedside table.

“Uh, 11:30”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, and shuffled out of bed. Only then realizing she was only clad she in his mustard colored button down.

“Richie,” She sighed, gesturing downwards at the barely-covering-her-ass shirt and bare legs. “Where are my pants?”

“What pants?” Richie played dumb, and she gave him a bored glare. “The only thing I remember about pants was ripping them off-”

“Beep beep!” She squealed, already rushing about the hotel room in search of something that covered just a little more skin. She found his tee shirt, which she threw at him, and her own shirt, which she just held on to.

What? She was already wearing a shirt.

“Did you hide them?” (y/n) asked, hands on her hips as she stared Richie down, where he still laid comfortably in bed. Too comfortably.

“I told ya toots,” He grinned. “Haven’t seen ‘em since I took em off ya”

Her brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed skeptically.

“Who knows?” Richie pretended to ponder it. “Maybe I threw them out the window. Legs like those shouldn’t be covered-”

“Alright. So what you want right now, is for me to run out of here, pants-less, go up to my floor, pack my things and come back here to stay for the rest of the week, right?” She asked, done with the playful bullshit.

“That’s exactly what I want. Yes” He agreed with a sly grin as he folded his hands over his stomach, watching her curiously to see what’d she’d do next.

“Fine” (y/n) huffed, and headed for the door.

“Well- wait- hold on toots,” Richie called, and she turned to look at him, hoping he’d just give in and get her the pair of jeans so that she didn’t have to do the walk of shame across the hotel.

(Not that there was anything shameful about what happened last night)

“You’re gonna leave without kissin’ me goodbye?” He asked, puckering his lips playfully.

(y/n) rolled her eyes, and action that Richie had grown quite fond of, seeing that it was almost always directed towards him, before tugging open the door and racing down the hall to the elevator.

The less people to see her in just a weirdly colored button-up, the better.

She made it into the elevator without any complications, and sighed in relief as it took her up the one floor to get to her room. All she had to do now was run to her room, slam the door shut, and pull on a pair of jeans. How many people could be up and about in the hallways anyways? It’s not like Derry was a destination overflowing with people-

“(y/n)?”

The doors opened on the fourth floor, revealing Eddie Kaspbrak and Ben Hanscom waiting outside of it, jaws dropped open and eyes wide with realization as they looked at the girl.

“Holy fuck you slept with Richie!” Eddie screeched, his joyous laughter echoing down the halls, before he suddenly cringed and groaned in a disgusted manner at the girl. “Why?”

“Because they’re still in love” Ben cooed adorably.

(y/n) shook her head at the both of them, realizing just how much they hadn’t changed.

“Excuse me” She managed a mumble as she pushed past them, cheeks pink as she speed walked towards her room.

“Those two are still fucking digusting” She heard Eddie tell Ben before she got into her room and was finally able to shut the door and have some privacy.

And despite the teasing, it made her smile, because what Eddie thought was disgusting, (y/n) and Richie had waited a lifetime for. This was their fate, finally coming true. ___

After packing up her things, putting on a pair of pants, and moving her bags into Richie’s room, the old gang headed into Derry with Mike, awaiting further instruction on how to defeat It. For real, this time.

Much to everyone’s dismay, he’d told them to split up, to search for the artifacts they’d each left behind when they left Derry.

“Woah woah woah,” Richie spoke up, shaking his head almost comically fast. “That’s probably the worst thing we could do right now!”

(y/n’s) hand grabbed his wrist calmly, and her thumb stroked over the soft skin to settle him down.

“For once, he’s fucking right. Splitting up is how we die” Eddie agreed.

“You have to find it on your own,” Mike said. “That’s how this works, it has to solely be yours”

Richie frowned deeply, but didn’t argue again. Mike had spent the last twenty-seven years plotting, studying, trying to find a way to stop IT through hours, years, of research. If he said this was the only way to do it, then it must be.

“Once you have them, meet back at the library, okay?”

Everyone nodded, and began to head off in search of their artifacts.

Richie however, tugged (y/n) back, and gave her a look she could only describe as lost.

“It’ll be fine,” She told him with a reassuring smile, her hand settling against his cheek. “I’ll be fine,” She clarified. “And you will too. It’ll only be a few hours, and I’ll see you at the library, alright?”

“I hate this” He muttered, and she giggled softly. Richie took her hand from his face, holding it delicately in his.

He gazed at the matching scars in the palms of their hands before looking back at her again.

“Be safe?” He spoke in the form of a question, and she nodded.

“And you don’t be stupid. I mean it this time”

“This time?”

“Could never stop you from doing stupid shit before” She teased, and pulled her hand out of his as she turned to leave the woods. “See ya in a bit-”

“Hey! No goodbye kiss? Again?” He complained, and she grinned back at him.

“You can have it after your special mission,” She mocked. “I’ll see you at the library, Tozier” She added before finally heading off in the direction of town.

She had a pretty good idea of what her artifact would be. She just wasn’t totally sure how to get to it. ___

The (y/l/n) household looked the same as it had twenty seven years ago, if not a little more run down.

As she stood in front of her childhood home, (y/n) couldn’t hide the grimace on her face. Countless memories of the suffering she’d gone through growing up in that house. From her neglecting parents, to the nights she’d spent crying herself to sleep after being plagued with nightmares, her house was her least favorite part of Derry. And it was supposed to be a safe haven.

She could have walked up to the door, greeted her parents, and then went up to her room to retrieve the artifact, sure. It would have been relatively easy.

But she didn’t want to see her parents. She wasn’t ready, and somehow, it seemed easier to scale up the side of the house to her bedroom window, and sneak in as quietly as she could, rather than have to face the people who raised her.

As she struggled to force open the window, she wondered how Richie had managed to creep in all those years ago. He’d done so every night, how the hell did he get himself all the way up to the second floor?

Finally, the plane cracked as the worn wood gave out, and (y/n) was able to the window upwards and open. She cheered silently to herself as she crept inside her bedroom.

She left a considerable amount of things behind. Her bed was still against the same wall, and her desk and dresser on the opposite side. There were a few boxes of things that she’d left behind to be donated, but it appeared her parents had never taken them to the donation center.

Actually, the more she looked around, she wondered if her parents ever even came into her room. It looked untouched, dusty, and not a single thing had been moved since the last time she’d been here.

She curiously looked over the photos she and Richie had taped onto one of the walls, a collage of the Loser’s Club. Polaroids of the gang at the quarry, in their Halloween costumes, at school dances, regular ones from sleepovers.

But in the center of them all, she’d plastered one right overtop of a picture of Bill on his bike, with Bev holding onto him from behind. She’d covered it with a picture from Richie.

The photo was a blurry one of the two of them, (y/n) sitting on his lap, on Eddie’s couch, she thought. Her hands were on his cheeks, shoving them together adorably and making his lips pucker. She was grinning down at him, and despite his mouth being forced into looking like a fish, she could tell just by looking at the picture that he was smiling back. Ben had taken the picture, she remembered. And she remembered Richie giving it to her.

She carefully pulled the polaroid off the wall, fingers stroking over the delicate image, before flipping it over.

It was still there. The note.

In his typical messy handwriting, he’d written her a little note on the back of it before thrusting the picture towards her for her to take.

Stay adorable, sunshine.

And a little heart scribbled underneath it.

(y/n) found herself giggling as she looked at it, the same giggle she’d let out the day Richie had given it to her.

This was her artifact, she knew it, she could feel it.

She carefully tucked the precious photograph in her pocket, eager to get back to the library to show the others.

Just as she was halfway out her window, a voice whispered to her.

“(y/n)? Sweetheart, is that you?”

A shiver ran down her spine. Her mother’s voice hadn’t aged a day.

She was frozen in the windowsill, staring with wide eyes at the closed door. There were footsteps on the stairs, and she could see a shadow walking beneath the crack of the door. If she didn’t move now, she’d be caught.

“My little girl?” The voice called again, but this time it was distant, and distorted. “Is it really you?”

Her heart pounded in her ears, absolute fear in her bloodstream as all she could do was watch as the door suddenly swung open, revealing her mother.

Except, it wasn’t her.

It was her body, with torn, yellowing skin. Once dull (y/e/c) eyes glazed over with a milky film. Saliva dripping past rotting teeth, and over pale lips.

“My child,” The thing that wasn’t quite her mother called, and (y/n) let out a guttural scream as It raced right towards her. “You’ve come home! Back to mama!”

“No- No!” She screamed, and It took a few taunting steps towards her. Close enough that the stench of rotting flesh wafted into her nose.

And as quickly as It had stepped towards her, it’s limbs bending and snapping unnaturally, as It took a different shape. A new shape, that was also vaguely familiar.

Her father.

“It’s about time you came home…” He drooled all over her carpet, and if she wasn’t so overcome by fear, she probably would’ve thrown up. “It’s been so long, your mother just about died. But now you’re here. To stay”

Her breath caught in her throat, swallowing a scream and in turn letting out a whimper.

“No-! No you’re not- this isn’t- you’re not real!” She squealed, and forced her legs to swing out the window.

“Not real enough for you?” The gnarled voice of her supposed father asked, and slowly, the parts of him that were torn, the glossy eyes, and the drooling lip, disappeared. And just like that, it looked just like her father, the one she’d known as a child.

She wasn’t sure if this was worse than the zombified version.

“Stay!” He surged forward, snatching (y/n) by her wrist. “Stay and float”

At that, she found her voice and screamed again, yanking with as much force she could to get her arm out of it’s dirty grasp.

“Stay and float! Stay and float! Stay and float!”

As it continued to screech it’s mantra, his voice became more and more deeper, louder, monstrous. And she was afraid she’d have to risk getting her arm ripped off just to get out of it’s hold.

He threw his head back, a disgusting shriek escaping it’s throat as it’s jaw unhinged, and the body took on a new form.

“Come on toots,” An all too familiar voice took over. “Stay and float”

It took all of her fear and willpower to get away in order for (y/n) to muster up the courage to swing her leg in through the open window, kicking not-Richie’s jaw with a loud and unpleasant crack against her boot.

It stumbled backwards, finally releasing her arm as it did, and collapsed inside the bedroom.

Because of the force of her kick, and because of It letting go of her hand, she stumbled onto the roof, and rolled backwards off of the slope of shingles. Landing back down flat on the dewey ground with a thud and a groan.

She whined as she just laid there for a moment, processing (as best as she could with the wind knocked out of her) what had just happened. From It attacking her, to falling off the roof.

Richie was gonna love to hear about the latter. He’d fallen off her roof countless times when they were kids, in failed attempts to sneak out of her room.

With a wheeze she pushed herself to sit up, wiping off the grass and wetness from the sleeves of the ugly button up she still wore. After getting used to being in an upright position, she forced herself to stand, huffing and puffing and mumbling profanities.

Her hand subconsciously hovered over her back pocket, pulling out the photograph and panted out a ‘thank fuck’ seeing that it wasn’t too damaged from the encounter. Just a little bent at the edges.

A rush of adrenaline surged through her, and for the first time since coming back to Derry, she truly believed they could defeat It. The Losers could win this. ___

“Hello?” She called out into the library, eagerly running in and searching for the others.

She held the polaroid in her hands firmly, glancing around the aisles of books, but judging by the lack of response, she figured that no one was back yet.

She had known right away what her artifact would be, so perhaps the others were still on the search for theirs.

She began to wander amongst the shelves, curiously admiring the very old looking books on them. But in a small town like Derry, it wasn’t too surprising that they hadn’t gotten anything new in the last thirty years. Or by the looks of it, one hundred and thirty years.

Just as she was about to actually pick out a book to pass the time, she heard a muffled noise, which sounded all too much like someone struggling to just be the old building settling.

Her instincts told her to call out to see if anyone was there, but her history with terror told her to keep quiet, and follow the noise to see what was going on.

She crept on the tips of her toes down the aisle, and again, a definite ‘hmph!’ could be heard. She surely wasn’t alone in the library.

Peeking her head around a shelf, she was certain that this was where the intruder was.

Her heartbeat spiked, seeing him there. He had aged horribly, as expected, but something about him still had that terrifying ‘Henry Bowers’ vibe.

It was probably because he held Eddie in a prison-like grasp, a hand clamped over the hypochondriac’s mouth, and his other hand pressing a knife dangerously close to his neck.

(y/n) could see there was already a stab wound on his cheek, covered by a small square of gauze.

“(y/n)? Is that really you sweetheart?” Bowers asked, tongue licking over the front of his yellowing teeth in a sultry manner that made her shiver and grimace at once.

“Let him go, Henry,” She muttered, and tucked her photograph in the back pocket of her jeans. “You can still walk away from this. Walk away”

“Whatcha got there?” He asked, ignoring her completely. “Somethin’ sentimental? Hm? Somethin’ that’s gonna save your sad little lives? Aww…” He mocked, and shoved Eddie forward with him as he stepped closer to the girl. “Give it to me and I won’t fuckin’ slit his throat”

Eddie let out a whimper, muffled against Henry’s clammy palm.

“Not a goddamn chance” She said, voice clear, hands curling into tight fists.

There was a time that Henry Bowers could’ve threatened her into doing anything, but that was a lifetime ago, and she wasn’t afraid of his pathetic ass any more.

“Now let him fucking go”

“So pitiful. Always so naive, bitch” Henry said, and took his hand off of Eddie’s mouth to grab him by the back of his shirt, still holding a knife to his neck.

“You alright?” (y/n) murmured to Eddie while he sucked in deep breaths.

“He smells so fucking bad” He muttered back, and (y/n) chuckled, and gave him a certain nod. A nod that told him that he needed to make a move to distract Henry, and get that knife away from his neck.

The idea of fighting against a crazed man with a knife petrified Eddie, but he trusted (y/n), and right now, he trusted her with his life.

So before he could chicken out, he kicked his foot backwards, effectively swinging his foot right between Bowers’ legs. This distracted him just long enough that Eddie could run away, and (y/n) grabbed his arm to pull him with her faster, towards the library doors.

“He’s still fucking alive?” She screeched as they ran, and Eddie fumbled for his inhaler in his pocket.

“Yeah, and he’s still a fucking psycho!” He replied, taking two puffs of proventil.

The doors were just in sight, they were just a few quick strides from the exit.

But out of seemingly nowhere, (y/n) was ripped away from Eddie, and thrown against the ground. She groaned aloud as her head slammed into the floor, leaving a bruise where a bump would later rise.

“I’m tired of you fucking running away!” Henry screamed down into her face, making her wince and shut her eyes, shuffling as much as she could to get away from his knife that was threateningly pointed at her. “I’m gonna fucking kill you this time” He muttered, raising his arm with the knife, and (y/n) held her arm over her face to brace for the sharp impact.

However, she barely felt the swipe across her cheekbone, before there was nothing.

She dared herself to open her eyes, lowering her arm just as the weight of Henry Bowers fell off of her, a metal beam shoved into the back of his skull. She let out a squeak of disgust at the gruesome sight.

Just as quickly as she felt sick to the stomach, she was flooded with relief to see Richie standing over her, panting heavily and staring wide eyed from Henry’s corpse, then down to her.

“Holy shit,” He muttered, mostly to himself, and took (y/n’s) hand to help her off the floor. “Are you alright?”

She could only manage a shaky nod, her hands grasping his wrists, and her hold tightening on him the longer she held him, the reality of the situation settling in. She could’ve died.

“I killed him?” Richie half asked her, and she nodded again, glancing for half a second at the body on the ground. “I fucking killed him” He breathed out, both surprised, and a little proud.

He was beginning to smile, before he abruptly ripped himself away from (y/n) and threw up the contents of his stomach on the floor. Apparently reality had just settled in with him too.

“Oh my-” (y/n) gasped at Richie’s violent puking. She turned her head away, but patted a comforting hand on his back.

Mike, Ben, and Beverly came into the library a few moments later, all groaning and shrieking at the sight of Henry Bowers’ body on the floor, a pole through his skull.

The day had just started, and there was so much to catch up on, and so much left to do.

But for now, they had to go get Bill before he stupidly walked into Neibolt alone. ___

Richie’s hand had never held (y/n’s) so tightly. His heart dropped to his stomach as soon as they’d stepped foot into the (definitely haunted) house, and his hand had instantly shot out and grabbed hers.

For her or himself, he wasn’t sure. But they were both grateful for it in the moment.

“It’s just like last time” (y/n) mumbled, shining her flashlight all over the floor in front of her.

“If you thought that was romantic, it wasn’t” Richie replied, giving her a small smile, that she weakly returned.

If her heart wasn’t about to beat out of her chest right now, she might’ve even laughed.

After a horrible encounter with a creature designed from Stan’s corpse head, and having to swim through greywater to get to the tunnel, her heart only beat harder, and louder. Fear and adrenaline mixing together in a toxic concoction that made her swear she could feel her blood pumping.

She peered down the tunnel, afraid to even trust the rocky walls of it to climb down, much less what was on the other side.

Mike had already hoisted himself down, and Ben followed shortly after. (y/n) was the next closest to the opening, so she knew it was her turn.

“You’re alright,” Richie told her as she tied her flashlight around her wrist. She nodded, wanting to believe him, but her eyes were full of tears, and her bottom lip quivered a bit. “I’ll be right behind you, okay? It’s gonna be fine”

With a kiss on the cheek, she believed him a little more, nodding again, and then slowly lowering herself into the well.

Her hands shook as she grabbed the jutted out rocks, but she didn’t slip up the whole way down. And when she finally landed on her feet, in a cave beneath the town of Derry.

Richie dropped down a few short minutes after her, and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her against his side almost comfortingly as they waited for the others to come down.

“What’d I tell ya?” He said with a dopey grin down at her. She let out a small laugh, and for a moment, leaned her head against his chest.

Her cheek had stopped bleeding, and while the cut that Henry Bowers had made wasn’t deep, it looked awful. Dried blood smeared over her pretty skin, dirtying it. Richie made a mental note to help her clean that up later.

“Yeah yeah, you’re always right,” She muttered, looking up at him again. “Thanks for saving my life earlier”

“Yeah, I’m a real hero, huh?” He said with a heavy sign, and she swatted at his chest with the back of her hand, and then wandering a little further into the cave, exploring the path they’d have to take to get to their final destination.

The journey continued as Eddie was the last to come down the well.

And after what felt like hours of walking, it was obvious when they reached the place they were looking for.

“Alright, quickly now!” Mike called, running up to the large rocky structure in the vast open space. Rocks jutted out from the ground, almost forming a crown in the cave.

The others followed behind him, and watched as he placed the pyramid on the ground, filled it with lighter fluid, and set it on fire.

“Okay, now place your artifacts inside” He instructed.

Bill was the first to pull his out, a paper boat, with neat handwriting on it’s side that read S.S Georgie.

Then Beverly, a taped-together postcard that she didn’t really share about before adding it to the fire.

Next was Eddie, who threw in his old inhaler, but not before taking a puff from it first, making everyone cringe.

Richie threw in an arcade token without a word. And when Eddie called him out for having an artifact that would take forever to burn, he snapped back at him. No one asked any questions about it.

Ben added a piece of paper to the fire, which he admitted was a page from his yearbook, and the only signature on it was Beverly’s.

(y/n) was next, and she reluctantly pulled the polaroid out of her pocket, gazing down at it lovingly, and smoothing her thumb over the bent corners.

“Is that…?” Ben peered over, grinning to see that the picture he’d taken all those years ago, as a joke about how much (y/n) and Richie cuddle, was still in near perfect shape.

“Wow,” Richie mumbled, reaching out to hold one side of the polaroid, as (y/n) held the other. “Look at that”

He turned it over, curious to see if his message had faded away. But there, in black sharpie ink, written in his handwriting, Stay adorable, sunshine. A sloppy heart scribbled underneath.

She grinned bashfully up at him, before a sadness settled on her features as she looked at the fire. Richie squeezed her hand, as if to tell her it was okay, she could throw it in.

“It’s uh…” She cleared her throat, hand a bit shaky as she held the picture over the fire. “It’s the one thing I should have brought with me but… didn’t”

With that, she dropped the photo into the fire, and watched edges curl up and turn black, before the flames ate it up.

Mike held up a rock, painted with what had to be blood.

“Do you remember this, Bev?” He asked, a knowing smile on his face, and her own features lit up as the memory replayed in her head. “It’s the rock that hit Bowers” He said, looking at it, and admiring what it had done for him all those years ago. It had saved his life.

He tossed in the rock, and the flames erupted even larger, brighter.

And above them, a portal, of sorts opened up. (y/n) got a glimpse of bright orange streams of light before Mike hollered for everyone to look away from the deadlights.

She had more trust in him than she had curiosity in the lights, and was quick to look downwards, pressing her hand over her eyes for safe measure.

Richie’s hand grabbed her free one, pulling her closer, and even closer when the power of the deadlights going into the pyramid was blowing harsh winds all around them.

The ground began to shake as the orbs were completely submerged inside the pyramid, and (y/n) pressed her face completely against Richie’s chest, holding him tightly and fearfully. She wasn’t sure what was happening, or when it was safe to look.

But things settled down, the winds stopped, the ground stilled, and slowly, everyone cautiously peeked their eyes open.

Mike was quick to slam the lid over the pyramid, trapping the deadlights inside.

“We did it?” Bill breathed out, unsurely.

“It’s gone?” Richie asked. “Just like that?”

“We did it,” Mike said, a tired grin tugging on his lips. “We did it, we trapped the lights”

Everyone seemed to smile, and let out sighs of relief.

(y/n) pulled away from Richie only to reach up and eagerly press her lips against his, hands splaying across his cheeks, and grinning even wider as she pulled away. He took her in his arms, lifting her off the ground as he hugged her enthusiastically.

“We fucking did it!” He cheered, even spinning the girl around before setting her back down.

Their moment was short lived, as they were soon joined by Pennywise, who mocked their efforts at defeating him, and released the deadlights from the pyramid. And if that wasn’t enough to make their fear settle in their bones again, he grew about a hundred feet, taking on the leg form of a monstrous spider, and chased them amongst the rocks with crazed laughter.

Richie haphazardly reached out for (y/n), and pulled her with him behind a tall rock that should keep them out of It’s view for a few moments, which was all he needed.

“Listen to me, are you listening to me? Listen,” Richie instructed hastily. “We dont- we don’t have much time-”

“What?” (y/n) said, urging him to hurry up before Pennywise rounded the corner and was able to see them.

“First chance you get, you run the fuck out of here-”

“Richie no-!”

“Promise me, fucking- swear to me, that if you get the chance you fucking book it, okay?” He pleaded, but she shook her head back and forth, tears welling in her eyes as Richie continued to beg her. “Swear to me- do it (y/n) swear”

“I- I can’t” She whimpered.

“You can, please, please. If you stil love me just- just fucking promise me you’ll get the hell out of here, and get safe,” She cried harder, a small gasp departing her lips as her throat burned with tears. “I need you to be safe, okay?”

He peered around the rock, seeing Pennywise nearing where they were hiding, and then turned quickly back to (y/n).

“Richie I can’t leave- I’m not leaving you again,” She wept, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Please don’t make me-”

“I’ll be there with you as soon as I can,” He promised, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “I swear it, alright? I just need you to swear to me you’ll get out of here”

“Rich” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and for a mere second relished in the feeling of the pads of his thumbs swiping away her tears.

“Do you understand me?” He spoke after a moment, and she nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Her sad eyes met his, and they alone told him everything that she needed him to know. He gave her a bittersweet smile, before drawing her face in close for him to press his lips in the space between her eyes.

“I love you,” He murmured before pulling away. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Richie could see that It was even closer, and he pushed her away from him. “Now go!”

She let out a cry as she was forced out of his hold, and the tears started up again as she made a bee-line towards the entrance of the cave they’d come in through.

She made it through the passing just before It was able to spot her, and hid under the rock as she watched It pass, and Richie ran from his hiding spot to another.

Her hands had been shaking, and she couldn’t get herself to move, even though at this point, she probably would get away. But looking at the Losers, her friends, all running about the cave and trying to hide before It could grab them and terrorize them, she couldn’t go through with it.

Her eyes caught Richie’s, who began to shake his head, already knowing what she was thinking. She gave him a sad smile, and realized she wasn’t shaking anymore.

She wasn’t afraid.

Richie shook his head again, waving his arms around in an ‘x’ sort of motion, desperate for her to listen to him. To turn around and start running.

‘I’m sorry’ she mouthed, and wiggled out of the crevice.

“(y/n)! No!” The scream Richie let out echoed over the sounds of Pennywise’s snapping jaws and clattering crab-like legs.

She wasn’t afraid, but he certainly was.

She scaled up to a cliffside that was jutted out from the cave’s wall, collecting as many rocks as she could and beginning to throw them with all the force she could muster.

And if their lives weren’t at stake, he would be proud and cheering her on as she began to launch rocks at It. But instead, his heart was beating erratically with fear as he watched her do something so reckless.

Nevertheless, he ran up to her, and joined her in pelting the monster with the largest rocks they could lift.

“You’re stupid! You’re insane!” He yelled at her, but she just gave him a wide grin, and shrugged her shoulders, before heaving up a rather large rock, swinging low so she could throw it as high as she could. It landed with a loud ‘thunk’ ‘crack’ against Pennywise’s skull, and he screeched as the area began to crack, blood pooling upwards.

“Well where do you think I picked it up from?” (y/n) asked teasingly, hands dropping to her knees as she bent over and heaved.

She only had a moment to catch her breath before Pennywise whirled around, and the small moment of victory was gone in an instant.

It’s large crooked leg knocked her off the cliffside she stood on, and sent her tumbling down to the ground below. Richie shrieked, scurrying to get down to her, but in his haste his eyes went upwards, landing on the blue circling orbs, and he was trapped in the deadlights.

(y/n) pushed herself up on shaky arms, spitting out blood and wiping haphazardly at her mouth to get the excess blood off her lips. As she got up, her eyes caught Richie, floating above her, staring with dull eyes at whatever Mike had told them not to look at.

“Richie!” She screamed, and despite her legs feeling like jelly, she shoved herself upwards and ran towards him, hoping if she jumped high enough, she could grab his leg and pull him down to her. “Richie! Come on!” She pleaded, eyes welling with tears as she tried, and failed, over and over again to grab onto him.

“(y/n)! Look out!” Eddie blared, just in time, as It came running towards her, reaching greedy hands down towards her body.

“Come on toots,” It’s voice was deranged and she hated the way her special nickname sounded coming out of it’s clown painted mouth. “Don’t you wanna float with your lover?”

She scrambled away as quickly as she could, but It was so close behind her, she was bound to be snatched right up.

“Help!” She screamed, begging her legs to move faster, but sure enough, a large hand wrapped around her torso and picked her up like she was a doll.

She screamed, throwing her fists against the back of Pennywise’s gloved hand, as though it could cause any damage anyways. The higher he pulled her upwards to his face, the more she realized she didn’t actually want him to let go of her. A fall at this height was bound to kill her. So eventually, she stopped hitting his hand, and instead clutched onto the silk glove to keep her secure.

“You’ve caused quite some trouble” It spoke angrily, leaning in close so she could see it’s bright orange eyes.

“There are other ways to make him feel small!” Mike shouted. “You have to make It feel small!”

Her eyes darted from the man on the ground, back up to the large figure that held her captive in it’s hand.

“I’m not afraid of you,” She declared, voice clear, and candid. For a moment, she swore It’s face twitched with a wince. “You’re just a clown. You’re not fucking scary. And I’m not scared of you!”

It snarled, baring it’s endless rows of razor sharp teeth as it roared right at her face. She screamed, suddenly very afraid that this was how she died, that she’d be just another one of it’s snack-turned-victims.

But just as she thought she was going to be thrown into It’s mouth like a potato chip, the roaring ceased, as a long metal spear had been thrown into it’s exposed throat, ripping through to the otherside.

Her eyes widened at the gruesome sight, and It stumbled backwards, dropping her body in the process. She screamed as she fell, but was silenced as soon as she hit the ground.

“Oh my- fuck! (y/n)!” Eddie ran over to her, helping her sit up and make sure she hadn’t hit her head too hard. “Did you see that!? Did you see what I just fucking did!?” He cheered for himself, but his voice was merely a distant echo in (y/n’s) ears.

“Wh- what about Richie?” She mumbled, rubbing her head as she looked over to see him falling from where he was floating. “Is he- oh my god”

Her legs shook, so much so that she kept on tripping and falling as she made her way over to where Richie laid, and eventually her knees completely gave out, and she collapsed at his side.

“R-Richie?” She shook him, afraid to see his eyes shut as he laid there, almost lifelessly. “Richie!?” She yelled now, grasping the material of his shirt in her hands as tears built up and burned her eyes.

He gasped, head shooting up for a moment before falling back down against the rock. He took in deep breaths and stared at her with wide eyes, not sure what had just happened that had knocked him out.

“You’re okay, you’re okay?” She repeated herself, hands moving rather quickly over his face, both comforting him and inspecting for any blood or injuries.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” He wheezed, and (y/n) took his face in her hands, a cry of relief coming from her throat. She was smiling, but still crying. “You gotta stop crying today toots, I don’t have the time to kiss all those tears away” He teased, and pushed himself to sit up on shaky arms.

“Shut the fuck up” She whimpered happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him to sit up the rest of the way so she could hug him as tightly as possible.

Her hands grasping at his hair, and then his shoulders, and then the back of his shirt, anything she could hold. Richie buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms encircling her torso and squeezing her tight against him.

“God, Rich,” She mumbled, pulling away from him to look at his face. His glasses were a bit cracked, and there was a nasty bruise along his cheek, a little bit of blood trickling down his forehead from his hairline. “You look like shit” She giggled, carefully wiping away the blood with her thumb.

“Yeah yeah, real hot coming from you” Richie said, silently counting the cuts and bruises littered over (y/n’s) face. The cut from Bowers, a bruise at her temple, a slightly blackening eye, bloody nose, split lip, she was a mess.

It hurt to smile, but she couldn’t help it. One of her hands shakily racing to place her palm against his cheek. The expression on her face something that made Richie want to both cry and hold her in his arms for as long as possible.

“Richie…” She mumbled. “I-”

The world stuttered in it’s timeline, it had to have, because what happened next, Richie was certain it was in slow motion.

A large claw protruded through (y/n’s) chest, making her words stutter to a stop, and slowly, she bowed her head down to see that it was, in fact, It’s razor sharp leg. Impaled clean through her back.

“(y/n)!” Richie’s scream was blood curling, but all she could hear in that moment was white noise, eyes trained on the wound in her chest. She was frozen in fear, and the realization that she was going to die here hit her like a truck on the highway.

Her chest suddenly felt very warm, and as It retracted the claw that had pierced through her whole body, she realized it was because of the fresh blood streaming out of her body, dampening her clothes in a soggy red.

Richie’s hands were fumbling over the wound as Pennywise’s claw was retracted, and the other Loser’s were screaming insults at it to finish the job. Meanwhile, Richie carefully laid (y/n) down over his lap so she’d be more comfortable.

“(y/n), no… no no no, sweetheart, hey,” Richie cooed quietly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Hey it’s alright, you’re alright, we’ll get you out of here real soon-”

“Richie,” She whimpered, taking his bloody hand away from her face, and intertwining his fingers with hers. “Listen to me”

Her voice was small, but she needed him to stop his rambling so he could hear her.

“Listen- listen,” She mumbled, gathering what little strength she had to squeeze his hand. “It’s okay”

“No-! No, no it isn’t it’s not fucking okay-”

“Richie,” She cried, one tear rolling down her bloody cheek. “I’m okay, I’m gonna be okay,” She was lying through her teeth, just trying to calm him down even if it was just for a moment. “You’ll be okay”

He shook his head, tears falling freely now, but he didn’t cut her off.

Thi couldn’t be happening, not now, not after he just got her back. He just got her back, last night. And they’d had a wonderful time together, they clicked just like they had back then. He’d gotten to kiss her again, hold her again, love her again, how could this happen? How could she be ripped away from him so soon? This wasn’t fair this wasn’t fair this wasn’t-

“I love you,” She whimpered quietly, sad to even say it, given the circumstances, but she knew she had to. For both of their sakes. “Okay? I love you, I always did, okay?”

I told you to run, why didn’t you run away? Why didn’t you listen?

It wasn’t fair. But there was no changing it, there was no way for him to fix it, and that’s what broke him the most.

There was no saving her.

“Okay,” Richie mumbled back. The finality of their situation could be heard in the one word he spoke. It was a goodbye. Holding her hand tightly in his, and his free hand stroking her hair out of her face to keep it from getting stained with blood, he nodded his head a bit down at her. “Okay. I know, toots”

It was quiet for a minute as she tried to hold back her tears, for him. SHe could feel her heart slowing, and most of her body had gone numb in shock. All she could really feel was Richie’s hand tightly holding hers. She hoped that when the time came, he’d let go. Begged whoever was up there to help him let go.

“Hey,” Richie called softly, hastily wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “(y/n) (y/l/n)”

“Richie Tozier?” She replied weakly, confused.

“Will you marry me?”

The question was so soft, she almost didn’t catch it.

A cry left her lips as she nodded, unable to hide her tears from him any longer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” She mumbled. “Yeah, I’ll marry you”

Her whimpers broke his heart, but he smiled gently down at her nonetheless.

“Alright then toots,” He whispered, and stroked her hair back again so he could lean down to her, and kiss her forehead with a featherlight touch.

She closed her eyes at the action, and they both missed Pennywise being shrunken down into dust. Too wrapped up in one another to even realize he was gone.

“Rest easy, baby” Richie said quietly, his nose pressed into the crown of her head, and his eyes squeezing shut tightly, too afraid to look at her as she took her last breath. “I love you so fucking much”

When he finally pulled away, he knew her eyes wouldn’t open again.

The Losers were quiet as they gathered together, all staring at (y/n’s) boneless body in Richie’s arms. He was holding her against his chest, rocking slightly as he cried into his shirt that she still wore. If they’d stepped closer, they would have heard him cursing straight at God. But no one dared to take another step forward, letting Richie have this moment to mourn. ___

“She saved my life,” Eddie declared, while everyone was floating in the quarry, rinsing off the blood and gore that stained most everyone’s clothes and skin. “At the library. If she hadn’t come in, Bowers would’a killed me”

The others nodded solemnly as Eddie spoke.

“She genuinely cared about me,” Ben said next, remembering the first time he’d met her. She was the one that offered to let him ride on her bike after his run-in with the Bowers Gang. She’d demanded that they helped clean him up. “I guess… she saved my life too”

“Mine too,” Beverly agreed, smiling bittersweetly. “Beat up Greta Keene in the seventh grade. She was half her size, and she lost terribly but… she did it anyways”

“Me too,” Mike added. “Told my grandpa she was a vegetarian so when she came over we didn’t have to slaughter anything,” He chuckled a bit. “We always starved but… she knew I was always too chicken shit to do it”

“She used to help me with my s-” Bill cut himself off before he could chop up the word. “She’d help me pronounce things b-better,” He looked down at the water with a frown. “She always just wanted to help”

Everyone was looking at Richie now, while he was holding his glasses in his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I have too much to say” He finally spoke through his tears.

Beverly swam over and held onto his arm, leaning her head against his elbow to comfort him.

“You always do,” Eddie said, but the teasing words came out in a gentle whisper, as he floated to Richie’s other side, and wrapped his arm around him. “And somehow, she loved that about you”

Richie laughed humorlessly, and for a moment wondered how she’d put up with him all through their adolescent years.

“I abandoned her,” He told them. “We were supposed to go to New York together, but I left her” He frowned deeply, but the corner of his lips twitched up in a small smile. “But when she came back… when we all came back she…”

It was like his voice broke at that point, and he shoved his glasses back onto his nose.

“She still loved me anyways” He finished in a hushed voice.

“Of course she did,” Beverely cooed. “No one’s ever loved anything as much as (y/n) loved you” She told him sincerely.

“Back then and now,” Ben added. “Just so you know. It was always obvious to the rest of us”

Richie’s lips pulled into a small smile at everyone’s kind words, but they didn’t stop the tears from falling down his cheeks.

Everyone gathered around him to embrace tightly, all mourning the loss of their friend, and admiring her for saving all of them in her own little ways.

“I just miss her so much,” Richie whimpered, leaning his head down onto Eddie’s shoulder as he cried. “I don’t know how to go about the rest of my life now without her”

“Day by day,” Bill said softly. “We’ll get a gravesite for her, alright? So we can visit?”

Richie nodded, wiping at his face.

“Yeah, that’d be nice” He mumbled out. (y/n) wouldn’t have wanted to be buried and forgotten in the place Neibolt once stood. She’d want a real memorial, and Richie wanted it for her.

He was going to do for her what she deserved, for the rest of his damned life, he swore it.

It would’ve been in his vows, anyways.

___

taglist: @hippeyhaley (i'd had my taglist for IT closed bc i didn’t think i'd be writing for it again, but i'll re-open in the case that i do continue writing for it, hmu if you want to be added)

don’t worry, here’s the alternate ending. i knew y’all would cry about it.

xoxo ~ jordie

#IT #IT fanfiction #Richie Tozier #Richie Tozier x reader #Richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #finn wollfhard x reader #bill hader x reader

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