#there is a clown staring at me on the dash its midnight and hes making me nervous :[

[alienssstufff]

moar You Could've Applied Online fanart but its this duo in particular uvu

#stufffsart #ycao au #itlwart #inthelittlewood #itlw #solidaritygaming #tango and scott are there too #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcytblr #despite none of them are in hc wwww tagging consistency purposes #ghost!martyn my beloved #/nf whatd id give for one off of just martyns pov through the whole thinbg #there is a clown staring at me on the dash its midnight and hes making me nervous :[

[ornii]

My Better Bitter Half, Part 9

Part 9: Pilgrimage

“Let's assess, shall we? Bag over my head for optimal disorientation, wrists tied tight enough to cut off circulation, and no idea if I'm going to live or die. It's definitely my kind of party.”

(Y/n) and Wednesday, twins were bagged and dragged into a dark decrepit hole unbeknownst of their location.

“Who dares breach our inner sanctum?” A haunting voice comes out, their masks were suddenly taken off as they look around, and realize they’re still in the library.

“You can take the mask off, Bianca.” Wednesday says.

“And just like that, my hopes were dashed against the rocks of bitter disappointment. My foe was no psychotic killer. More like a bunch of high school clowns.” Wednesday thinks as they remove their masks

“Wait, I preferred you with it on.” Wednesday said.

“How did you get down here?” One asks

“Rowan” (Y/n) chimes in. “She tracked the watermark to the Poe statue. Then I solved the riddle.”

“Wait, there's a riddle?” One asks, “I thought we just snapped twice.”

“Wow, absolute Einstein here” (y/n) says with his burning sarcasm.

“The Nightshades are an elite social club.

Emphasis on elite.” Bianca said.

“We have roof parties, campouts, the occasional midnight skinny-dip. And Yoko's an amateur mixologist. She makes a killer virgin mojito. It can get pretty wild.” One girl adds in.

“Wow. Do you guys even have a bedtime?” Wednesday said with her cold sarcasm

“Last I heard, the Nightshades had been disbanded.” (Y/n) said.

“Yeah, the group kind of lost its charter 30 years ago after some normie kid died.” Xavier says

“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni, so Weems looks the other way as long as nobody makes any waves.”

“Someone like Rowan?” Wednesday adds in.

“We booted that loser last semester. Question is, what are we gonna do with them? Only members are allowed in this library.” Bianca says, and Xavier comes up with an idea.

“I say we invite them to pledge. They’re Addams, both legacy.” He explains.

“After the crap they pulled in the Poe Cup, there's no way in hell.”

“Are you mad we beat you at your own game? Let me save you the trouble glow fish.” He stands up and reveals his undone bindings.

“I'm not interested in joining, and I’m sure my sister isn’t.”

“You're seriously turning us down?” One says.

“Yes Because your little social club is so inviting.” He walks to the door, but is stopped by Kent, the mermaid and the twin of Divina.

“If you think the little burns you had at the Cup were bad, I’ll fillet you alive, get out of my way.” (Y/n) says with such unnerving calmness, Kent awkwardly side stepped and (Y/n) turned to Wednesday.

“When you’re done toying with them, let me know.” He heads up the flight of stairs to leave his more than capable sister there.

Minutes later he’s awaiting at the gate of the school, and his sister arrives.

“Good, you’re done playing with them, we can figure out our next move.” (Y/n) says.

“It seems the Nightshades were a dead end. They’re not capable of murdering Rowan, they’re barely capable of kidnapping two people.”

“Well your Standards are unnaturally high.” He says and nudges his sister, she stares at him and he walks back to his dorm, Wednesday watches her leave.

“There were so many threads to my investigation, I could weave a burial shroud. I still have no idea how Rowan mysteriously rose from the dead. Or why that monster is prowling the woods. But right now, nothing intrigues me more than this book. If I'm going to be responsible for Nevermore's demise, the question is, why am I sharing this apocalypse with a pilgrim?”

The next morning, The Students Are forced to stand at the Quad as Weems gives them the rundown for their Jobs.

“All students will report for their volunteer jobs at 10:00 a.m. sharp, followed by a community lunch at 1:00. As you know, this year Outreach Day culminates in a very special event, the dedication of a new memorial statue in the town square, which will also include performances by Nevermore students. As representatives of our school, I trust you will all put your best face forward.” She says, and hands out slips of paper for the Postions they’ll play. The Addams twins and Enid get theirs.

“Yes! I got Pilgrim World!” Enid says and (Y/n) checks it.

“Me too.” He ways, “I have natural people skills and a love of performing, so it's kind of the obvi choice.” Enid says, and grabs (Y/n)‘s arm.

“We can wear matching clothes!” Enid says smiling, which quickly changes the sullen demeanor of (Y/n). Who smiles.

“ I suppose I don’t hate that…” he says softly, and Enid turns to Wednesday.

“What'd you get?”

“Uriah's Heap, whatever that is.” She said, the students convey to Jericho to assist at Pilgrim world

“Ew. It's this weird, creepy antique store.” Enid says. “You'll love it though. I'm crossing my claws Ajax and I will be outreaching together.” Enid says, which (Y/n)‘s smile quickly Fades.

“Fantastic.” He walks off, and Weems has reached the front and begins.

“Welcome, welcome, Nevermore Academy.

Now, on behalf of the entire Jericho community, we are so, so pleased to have you all here today. Your generosity and hard work are truly... outreachous! Okay, everyone. We'll see you back here at one o'clock for lunch. Enjoy!” Weems says, (Y/n) adjusts his tie, ready to Woo Enid and make her forget about Ajax, as Enid prepares, Wednesday approaches her.

“Enid. Switch volunteer assignments.”

“What? No. Uriah's Heap is definitely not my bag.”

“It's an emergency. I need to check out Pilgrim World.”

“But Wednesday, this is not a fair trade. Why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crapola?”

“Because Ajax is volunteering there. Thing sneaked a peek at his assignment. But if you're not interested...” Wednesday begins to retract, but Enid grabs it.

“No! Oh my God, thank you. You're the best!” Enid skips away, (Y/n) stands with the ground, he turns left as he senses the approach of a woman, he turns with a smile to face enid but he unfortunately sees Wednesday.

“Wednesday? Where’s enid? You didn’t hurt you did you?”

“No, she swapped assignments with me.”

“Uh, why?” He asks, “She hates all things creepy.”

“Ajax is working at the Heap. That convinced her.” Wednesday says, (Y/n) was at a loss for words, the anger and disappointment was at a maximum as he lost his chance to possibly sweep Enid off her feet.

“I would have preferred Enid.” He says.

“I still cannot comprehend what you see in Her.”

“You don’t understand the Human emotional spectrum? I’m so shocked.” He says with sarcasm. “I’d like to spend time with women who aren’t related to me, unless you just don’t want Enid to snatch me away from you~”

“You are absurdly full of yourself, She’s After Ajax, do yourself a favor and accept cold reality. Wednesday says, He opens his mouth to say something less than appealing to his sister, but Eugene intervenes.

“Hey, Wednesday, want to grab a Hummers group photo?” He says, standing in the frame and the twins turn to face him, now both of them with the same stone face.

“Guess not.” Eugene says sheepishly as he walks away, suddenly, a woman approached, dressed as a Pilgrim.

“Good morrow, my young Nevermore kin. I am Mistress Arlene. A real OC. Original colonist. Now prithee, put your cell phones on vibrate and make haste, for you are about to travel back in time to the year of our Lord 1625, to Jericho's first pilgrim settlement. Yonder. Behold, the meeting house. Inside is a collection of artifacts related to Jericho's most beloved and pious founder, Joseph Crackstone. And beyond is our privy, America's first gender-neutral restroom.” She says, “Does anyone have a question about the bathrooms?” (Y/n) begins to raise his hand but Wednesday puts it back down.

“I haveth a query.” Wednesday said.

“Pray, be quick, child.”

“In the meeting house, which of Joseph Crackstone's artifacts are on display?”

“It is truly a treasure trove, including original farm tools, tableware, even the Crackstone family chamber pot.”

“Sounds fascinating. My Brother and I volunteer to work in there.”

“Pray, no. That exhibit is being renovated.

Today, thou will all be working at the beating heart of Pilgrim World. Ye olde fudgery!” She says, and shows the children a Fugde production shop

"Ye Olde Fudgery?" (Y/n) says, raising an eyebrow.

“More like ye olde diabetes in a box.” His sister retorts.

“Volunteers, prick up thine ears. Fudge is the lifeblood of our humble community. And samples equal sales, so grab a uniform and a box and make our forefathers proud.” She says. And adults hand out pieces of the uniforms.

“Are these for muzzling tourists?” Wednesday says.

“No, perhaps we can use them for muzzling troublesome siblings.” (Y/n) thinks.

The twins unfortunately put on a perfect facade of creepy pilgrims as (Y/n) stands there with a plate of Fudge, and Wednesday next to him.

“Enjoy your "authentic" pilgrim fudge made with cacao beans procured by the oppressed indigenous people of the Amazon. All proceeds go to uphold this pathetic whitewashing of American history.” She says in fluent German.

(In French) “Also, fudge wasn't invented for another 258 years. But please, continue to fuel this soulless corporation with your money so your children can still call Native Americans “Indians” (Y/n) says in perfect French.

“Any takers?” They say in Union, which creeps out the tourists and they leave. He calmly tosses the plate over his shoulder.

“This is getting ridiculous.” He says, Wednesday looks around and eyes the door she wishes to enter and walks off, (Y/n) follows, eventually the duo reach the door and Wednesday, using her oddly knowledgeable skill of breaking and entering unlocks the door and heads inside, he follows closely and the duo see the house, it was obviously turned into a museum, displaying multiple items

“My grandmother once told me secrets are like zombies... they never truly die. I'm not sure what secret Crackstone is hiding, but I have a strange feeling the answers to my future lie in the past. The Old Meeting House, 1625.”

“(Y/n), this is the girl from my vision. She's even holding the same book. That black one she had outside Crackstone's crypt.” Wednesday says, and (Y/n) turns to see a book on display.

“Codex Umbrarum. Book of Shadows." He opens it, and sees it all Empty. “Great. It's a fake.” He checks the back of it as his sister peers over his shoulder.

“I don't know who Etsy is, but I doubt she was an outcast settler.”

“No, she wasn’t.” He says, their investigation was suddenly sidelined as Arlene sees them.

“Just what the fudge are you two doing in here?” She says,

“Mistress Arlene.“ (y.n) said, “I proclaimed the meeting house is under repair.” She says “I know thoust heard me.”

“We don’t have firm for this. What happened to the original?” (Y/n) says, and Arlene frowns

“A child unknowing to respect thine elders, The original was stolen last month during the two o'clock witch trial.”

“It was probably the only authentic thing you have in here, yet you still charge $29.95 a ticket?” Wednesday says.

“Hold thy tongue. I'm reassigning you both.

To fudge-churning duty.”

“The original meeting house, the one in that painting, where is it?”

“How the hell should I know?

I only moved here from Scottsdale in April.” She says dropping the attitude.

“Fantastic, we’ll have to find it ourselves, I’ll ask around.” (Y/n) says.

“Ask who? No one living knows—“

“Exactly, no one living. Now If you’ll excuse me sister.” He says to Arlene, she frowns and walks off.

Back at Nevermore, (Y/n) sits cross legged in an Ally, with Wednesday watching guard, she turns to face him.

“Have you found the information yet?” She asks, his head suddenly jerks back and then forth and he opens his eyes, Gasping for air.

“I, think I do…” he says, and walks off into the forest, almost zombie like, they reach a burned down building, they search but, find nothing.

“Can you touch a leaf or something and get a vision?” (Y/n) asks.

“No, I can't just touch something. My visions seem to happen spontaneously.”

“Mother could help you learn some of the power”

“I would rather dye my hair pink than ask mother for advice.”

“Why am I not surprised, Maybe You’re Just afraid to see a vision.” He says sarcastically.

“Oh, you want me to prove it to you?” She says and grabs random items

“No. Nothing. Ah, I bet this will give us some real insight.” She says holding a Taco Bell bag..

“My visions are about as predictable as shark attacks.” Wednesday touched the gate and immediately stiffens up and convulses. (Y/n) rushes to her side and grabs her.

“Wednesday? Wednesday?!” He yells, she seems to be lost in a vision, and (Y/n) takes her away.

Minutes pass inside his room, he had a circle drawn around Wednesday, using his otherworldly skills to try and assist his sister, but her body suddenly awakens and she sits up.

“(Y/n), I saw her! The girl from my visions.

Her name is Goody Addams, and I believe she's our ancestor from 400 years ago.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Crackstone?

“I saw Joseph Crackstone in front of me as clearly as I'm seeing you now. He gathered all the outcasts in the meeting house and burned them alive.”

“I see, I see.. so that’s why they’re connected, Joseph killed Goody. Then Crackstone has to do with what’s going on… well, we have to think about this later, we have the concert to perform at? I assume Weems told you.

“Unfortunately so.”

“I thought nothing scared me, but that was before I stared into the eyes of Joseph Crackstone. I don't believe in heaven or hell. But I do believe in revenge. I usually serve it warm with a side of pain, but I've never faced an adversary cast in bronze.”

The Addams Twins are with other students in Jericho, preparing for the Band, but (Y/n)’s guitar skills were unmatched. But his sisters cello ability was unmatched. Weems approaches the podium.

“Thank you. It is my honor to celebrate our town's history and Jericho's noble forefather, Joseph Crackstone. Now, he believed that with a happy heart and an open ear, there was nothing our town couldn't achieve. So together as one, our community and our friends at Nevermore Academy, we've built a monument to celebrate his memory. Now, may the spirit of Joseph Crackstone be memorialized for eternity.” She says as they reveal the Statue of Crackstone, which begins to flow water.

The band begins playing of "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac and the crowd cheers, but (Y/n) was still miffed by his loss of possibly wooing Enid.

The crowd cheers, but their cheers quickly turn to horror as an explosion bellows from the statue, it seems someone swapped the water with gasoline, and all it took was a single match. Screams, terror, fear rang though the center, but what truly took the eye of most was the hellish screeches of an electric guitar, and a cello, as the twins play a harrowing version of Vivaldi's "Winter" as the guitars strings bellow though the area, the cellos haunting dreary tone perfectly compliments the guitar, but Weems wasn’t enjoying it.

“That was a disaster. The mayor is furious!

I've lost count of the angry phone calls, emails, and people in the town, alumni and parents. They want answers and so do I.” Weems says with such vitriolic rage at the twins sitting at the office.

“I would lead the inquisition, but I left my thumbscrews and rack at home.” Wednesday said.

“Miss Addams... you're already on thin ice.

Wafer-thin ice.”

“I swear Principal, our hands are clean.”

“What happened to you Mister Addams? You weren’t like this until your sister darkens our dorms.” She says, which changes his mood, maybe he was going back to his old ways. Weems turns to Wednesday.

“I may not have hard evidence, but I see you.

You're a trouble magnet.”

“If trouble means standing up to lies, decades of discrimination, centuries of treating outcasts like second-class citizens or worse...”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jericho.” (Y/n) cuts Weems off

“Why does this town even have an Outreach Day? Don't you know its real history with outcasts? The actual story of Joseph Crackstone and his hatred for Us?”

“I do…To an extent.” Weems says.

“Then why be complicit in its cover up? Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.” Wednesday chimes in.

“That's where you and I differ. Where you see doom, I see opportunity. Maybe this is a chance to rewrite the wrongs, to start a new chapter in the normie-outcast relations.”

“Nothing has changed since Crackstone. They still hate us. Only now they sugarcoat it with platitudes and smiles. If you're unwilling to fight for truth...”

“You don't think I want the truth? Of course I do. But the world isn't always black and white.

There are shades of gray.”

“Maybe for you. But it's either they write our story or we do, history isn’t written by those who are right, it’s by those who survive.” He says, weems Just sighs.

“You two are exhausting.”

“We know.”

“Goodnight, Minster and Miss Addams. But know, I don’t tire easily.” She says with the last foreboding warning, the twins leave the office and head back to their dorm. A but silent between each other, Wednesday was typing upon her typewriter, and Enid shows off a few outfits.

“Too much?”

“I feel like you just napalmed me, Enid.” Wednesday says.

“So glad I have my date with Ajax tonight.

Get my mind off that trainwreck of an afternoon. I literally think I have PTSD. I didn't even get to do my dance routine.” Enid says.

“What a tragedy— wait Date?” Wednesday asks.

“What kind of twisted psycho would want to sabotage such a life-affirming event?” Enid says, Wednesday ponders for a moment, and looks a bit saddened. He brother truly does care for her.

“…You're going to be late.”

“Wish me luck.” Enid says with a giggle and leaves. Meanwhile (Y/n) stands at the window, staring out into the moon, sighing solemnly as his eyes reflect the full moon.

“I don't believe in mandatory volunteer work, sugar-coated history, or happy endings, but most of all... I don't believe in coincidences. To paraphrase Agatha Christie, one coincidence is just a coincidence, two are a clue...and three are proof. Rowan's drawing of me and Crackstone happens sometime in the future. Goody Addams' warnings about Crackstone were in the past. And the monster is here in the present. Three coincidences that I know are connected. That monster could be anyone. The sheriff thinks they only exist behind the walls of this school. The truth is, there are monsters everywhere. And sometimes the monsters we least suspect are the most dangerous. They don't need teeth and claws to terrify. They hide in the shadows until no one is looking. And then they strike. But I'm looking now. And I won't stop until I find the truth.

#wednesday addams x male reader #enid sinclair x male reader #netflix #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wedesnday 2022 #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x you #enid x y/n #enid sinclair #siblings #twins #Youtube

[alstanfordart]

Bob’s Nightmare. Scene below.

@queenoftheclownsme

@theblackrosegoddess

It awoke. Not particularly rested. Its mind had drifted. Drifted back to the Todash, leaving Its material presence hidden beneath the ground, safely stashed away in a dark crevice of the cave. As Its conscious was violently ripped back into Its avatar of Robert Gray, It could feel the wound. No healing. Something had awakened It.

Not healed. Not healed but awake prematurely.

Confused, It staggers up, focusing Its one eye, seeing only black. Hearing creaking sounds and door slamming. Unable to see a few feet in front of It with just a subtle hint of weak light from an unknown source. It begins to walk and as It does, It hears, at the edge of the darkness, children singing;

'Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's, you owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's.'

It pauses in Its steps as It sees a flash of yellow accompanied by giggling.

A boy.

The voice of the child causes unease as another blur of yellow dashes past, before the child appears before It, partially obscured by the shadows save for emerald rain boots stark against the midnight and a speck of light in each iris.

What the Hell is this?

Little Georgie Denbrough in his slick rain coat, skin flaps dangling from his bloody stump as he slowly reveals himself as a gentle sound of thunder and rain drift out from behind him.

The boy approaches, neutral expression, standing before It.

"Why did you kill me?" Georgie asks, his round face pale, his eyes rimmed with dark circles as he gazes up. "I didn't do anything. I just wanted my boat."

Georgie holds out his hand, the paper boat sitting on his tiny fingers, blood starting to seep through and engulf the faded paper.

"It wasn't anything personal kid, I was hungry." Robert growls, lip curling up in disgust and taking a step back from this unwelcome mirage.

Like It needs to justify Itself to this brat. He is what led to Its confrontation with the hated ones. Perhaps had It targeted another child...

But maybe that would have lead to an entirely different group of children targeting It.

Maybe the Final Other intended it that way.

And that boat. That fucking boat is what started the whole mess.

It doesn't pursue this train of thought further, as it enrages It.

There's a shift in Georgie's melancholy demeanor and a creepy grin breaks out as he bends down to place his boat on a thin river of blood that has manifested, suspended a few feet above the ground.

Georgie then steps back, his form breaking apart as it evaporates upwards into the darkness as the now crimson-soaked boat starts to glide along as the singing starts up again;

'When will you pay me? Say the bells at Old Bailey. When I grow rich, say the bells at Shoreditch.'

Robert stares down at the boat as it starts to move, the blood river carrying it along. The boat's route becomes altered as the river begins to flow out, a small wave lifting it through the air. Robert's gaze follows as a red-haired woman appears amid the swirling ruby.

Beverly Marsh.

"Well, aren't you a sight," she smirks, hands perched upon her hips. "Just as bad as the time I stabbed you in the head. Couldn't sleep that one off, huh?"

The little bitch.

Snarling, quill teeth now jetting out his mouth, Robert lunges, only to have her vaporize as he goes to tear at her throat. Her disembodied laugh echoing around him. The blood river drifts off, taking the small boat along as it disappears into the gloom as a cream-colored wooden door appears. It steadily swings open, revealing a bathroom. Robert refrains from coming closer, but the room appears to envelope him, moving on its own.

The steam cloud blanketing the area barely conceals a dark-haired man slouched in a bathtub.

Stanley Uris, head lolling against his shoulder.

Spotting Robert, he sits up as he holds out his wrists, thin slashes appearing and dripping, inking the bath water red and dotting the white porcelain.

"I got to grow up at least." he says.

Robert gives a contemptuous scoff. "You did that to yourself."

"After you came to me." Stan retorts, lowering his arms slowly, staring blankly at Robert, a little half-smile just barely showing. Robert quickly retreats, slamming the door as it dissolves in a puff of thin smoke.

It is growing increasingly uncomfortable. Anxious. It must get out of here, whatever this is.

A dream. A nightmare.

Limbo? Had It been killed while slumbering?

Robert's head darts around as he searches the area, strange clanking sounds and echos vibrate in the distance coupled with a growing forest of giggling children's voices and the baaing of sheep.

'When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney. I do not know, says the great bell at Bow.'

Mike Hanlon comes forth, holding up a photo album. Opening it, there are various photographs of black birds.

"We're all afraid of something-even you." he says as the birds come to life and begin to flap their wings and squawk, emerging from the album's pages in droves, growing larger in size as they fly at Robert, pecking at him, their beady eyes glowing yellow. He ducks down and swats at them, growling as Mike fades into the dark.

As the birds swoop away, another familiar male voice appears.

"What's up clown man!" Richie Tozier jumps out, bat in hands as Robert, startled, stumbles backwards.

Ugh, of all the Losers, It had hated this one the most. The insulting little shit.

Richie continues to swing the bat, the wood making audible swooshing sounds that cut through the air.

Roaring, Robert grabs at the weapon, only to have his hands pass through it, tumbling forward as Richie cackles.

"Hey, no! Sorry no cigar! You know this place is worse than that crack house." he says, as he pauses to adjust his glasses.

Another final voice, immediately recognizable.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts, he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts."

Bill Denbrough steps forth from the tenebrosity, the boat pinched between his fingers.

"You're not real. None of you are. Old age took you back to the weeds long ago." Robert says glaring at him, his one iris starting to spark as Bill approaches.

Save for Mike. All are gone.

Bill smirks. "We're not real enough for you?" he replies, chuckling as an inhaler rolls out beside his feet. Eddie Kaspbrak reaches down to pluck it up, standing alongside Bill.

Raising it to his lips, he halts. "I actually don't need this anymore." Eddie says as he chucks it casually over his shoulder.

Richie moves to stand by them along with Mike and Beverly, with Georgie close behind, followed by Ben Hanscom, who holds up a piece of a large eggshell, black and shiny. Robert's expression drops at the sight, an angry grimace exposing his razor incisors.

Stanley Uris suddenly joins them, that same barely-smile still there. Almost mocking.

Robert glances around at his former adversaries.

"You should have stayed out of it. All of you, had you just kept to your business, let me have what I wanted, Stan and Eds would have lived longer, happier lives. I would have been nothing more than fragments of a forgotten dream. Amnesia is a kindness."

"We forgot, but you haven't forgotten us," Mike offers. "Have you?"

"We're still here," Bill adds, tapping the tip of the paper boat against his temple. "Can't escape that."

The eight are now bordering around him, with more emerging from behind: Candice Swain, Veronica Dell, the drunk Samuel, Colin and Hank Dobson, Esther, Noah Brady, the Muncy family, Julie, the hateful redhead Heather Taggart, Brandon Wilkes, Emily and her mother and the rest of the newest souls he'd claimed on this planet as well as his victims from Derry; the boys from the tunnel, Derek Stuart and James, Henry Bowers, Patrick Hockstetter decked out in his cartoon cat shirt, features chewed, the other two punks from the Bower's gang whose names he couldn't be bothered to remember, their necks bloodied, ripped open. Betty Ripsom, little Victoria, Adrian Mellon and the faces of endless Derry children and adults, some recognizable, some barely a hint of familiarity, many just a passing blip on his existence like pretty Martha and naive Alison. Many he'd used and killed like Tom Rogan, some that survived his Deadlights like Audra Denbrough.

As well as the unfortunate wife of the true Robert Gray, Agnes and their daughter Emma. Scowling and hateful.

Decades upon decades of victims. Many missing limbs, their eyeballs gouged out, blood bubbling from their mouths.

"Why'd you kill me?"

"You ripped my legs off and left my body in a ditch."

"You ate my baby. My only son."

"My father died from a broken heart after I went missing."

"They only found my head with no eyes."

Whispering, talking, with some laughing menacingly, all tinted in dull green-blue as the numbers begin to grow as more appear behind them.

Then a few clear a path, allowing another achingly familiar figure to step into the bleak light.

Mirasal.

She moves to stand before him, bringing her arms up to scissor them across her chest, she gives him a somber scowl.

Robert lowers himself to his knees, keeping his gaze locked with hers as resentment and hatred glimmer within her cerulean disks.

"What was that you told me? That I could trust you?" she says, giving a repulsed head shake.

No. This is not her. Remember that. None of this is real.

Just a dream. It's not real.

Robert hangs his head in his hands. "I don't want to hurt you." he mutters into his palms, his face shooting up at the sound of her chuckling derisively.

"Like I would believe you, you even thought about killing me," she replies. "Or perhaps give me a little scare."

With that, she leaps forward, her mouth unhinging, the blue eyes switching to ebony as she comes at him with her claws out. Robert winces back, covering his face, ducking his head down, only to feel nothing. He gingerly peeks out from beneath his fingers.

She's vanished. But the others, their irises blacking out to mimic that same appearance, still remain. All begin to draw closer, the Loser's Club at the forefront, their hands growing paler, some stained with blood splatter, grabbing at him as they close in, swaying back and forth, becoming more zombie-like.

"Get away from me," Robert rapidly stands, whirling around, panic gripping him as he growls, his one intact pupil now burning bright. "Get away."

"We all float down here, Robert. Float with us. Float with us. " they all cantillate in unison. "Float with us."

"No, no. Leave me alone." Robert drops back down to the ground, cowering, shielding himself from their increasingly grotesque faces, their features shriveling up and dropping to the ground. Their cackles resounding through his skull, magnified.

"You'll float too! You'll float too! You'll float too!"

"No!" Robert shouts, covering his ears as the area begins to spin, the faces around him now blending together. "No! No! No! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Their laughing abruptly ceases, their fingers no longer grabbing and prodding at him, and all is quiet save for the angelic crooning beginning to rise again;

'Here comes a candle to light you to bed.'

Robert follows the source, coming into view of a tall lithe figure, its slouching back facing him, standing in the center of a circle of light. The air above has red balloons hovering, completely still as Robert approaches, pausing every other step as the being becomes more visible, its ruffled off-white costume beginning to twitch as it turns to face him, bells jingling.

Robert stands facing his favorite form as it gives an empty grin.

What?

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed." Pennywise says as he reaches his elongated gloved fingers to grip the nape of Robert's neck. His eyes are two empty sockets, devoid of any color, his teeth yellowed needles as he brings his ghostly features closer, smooth, almost as if they were set in porcelain. Without warning he slams Robert to the ground, the strings of the balloons suspended above gently blow in response as he straddles him.

"Time to pay the piper, ol' Bob Gray," Pennywise intones as he lowers his teeth, only an inch from Robert's visage of both fear and confusion, the dripping saliva strings cold against his skin. Pennywise traces a bony finger along Robert's nose. "And here comes a chopper to chop off your head! Chip chop chip chop, the last man is dead!" he starts to maniacally cackle.

Squeezing his lids, Robert lets out a roar, fighting to free himself, thrashing beneath his double.

And just like that, the clown and the balloons are gone.

#pennywise #the losers club #it chapter two #fanfiction #fanfiction art #bill skarsgard

[miraclejune]

HERO’S SOUP: CHAPTER 18

Pure Heart

A figure bundled up in dark winter clothes plowed his way through the thick layer of snow.

He pulled down his mask, gazing at the distance. Across the misty horizon was civilization. Subtle twinkling lights and few visible buildings stood. "About a mile away." He calculated the distance between him and his target place.

While fixing his mask back to his already frosty face, a big black shadow leapt past him. It alerted him. He looked around cautiously but all he could sense was endless tundra.

"What is a vampire doing in Tromso?" Chan turned around to see a man with slicked back platinum hair. He was dressed too formal from head to toe.

He wore a black suit, sharp-looking, and well-fitted. Exactly the opposite of what a person should wear on where they're standing. That was something that made him a bit nervous. It's not that he wasn't also under-dressed by only wearing a thin shirt underneath his padded jacket.

The wolf beside the man wasn't the reason why Chan's bothered. Unlike him, whose black clothes almost turned white because of the blizzard, the man in front of him had no speck of snow whatsoever.

When the man smiled, it was a little bit magical. His insides churned at the sight.

"I'm looking for someone."

"Go look elsewhere. What you seek is not here." his british accent made him sound polite and prim. However, the wolf beside him snarled at the vampire.

"Now now," the man walked right above the snow. Blocking Chan's view of the wolf. "Don't go killing my friend with your stare." he smiled sweetly. Cringe.

Chan sighed. He looked around and heightened his senses. There were a couple hundred people in the city. A few were supernatural beings as well. "What are you doing here?"

The man fixed his collar and patted his right thigh with his hand twice. The wolf stood at his side, lowering itself for the man. Chan wondered how the hell will he sit down without crumpling that dashing suit. His query was answered when the man sat sideways.

"Someone has sent me to find you. If you please," suit guy scooted upwards.

"No way in hell will I ride a wolf."

'I'd rather get dismembered'

"Yeah yeah. Shut up." suit guy smiled. "You can hear him."

"Heightened senses. And please close your mind will you? Your thoughts are annoying." the wolf growled beneath its belly but he did what he was told.

"Misha, you let your thoughts out loose again." the wolf whined as an apology.

"Very well. Follow me, in whichever way you can."

-

After they shot through the blizzard, Chann pretty much looked like an oversized marshmallow. Snow coated his body from head to toe.

They stopped at a bar. 'Døden'ㅡthe sign read: meaning 'Death'.

"Couldn't be more subtle?" suit guy who was actually named Clyde gave him a smile. 

"You know Old Norse?"

"Old Norse is easy. Try learning Chinese." suit guy (Chan would prefer calling him that) chuckled. "Oh, no. That wasn't a joke but, thanks." Chan removed his coat, hanging it near a heater. The water dripped down on a metal bucket beneath the coat rack. He proceeded inside the charmingly old-fashioned bar. Chan expected a very unrealistic setting but the place looked plain but real.

Illuminated only by the age-speckled bar lights, the bar curves into the room, dark in the barely lit room. Through the windows, trickles the sallow light of street-lamps. Somehow enough for the room to be well-lit.

The cabinet behind the counter was tiny but well-stocked with a variety of alcoholic drinks. Velvet chair lined up near the walls. Vinyl records and a few frames of abstract paintings hung at a small expanse of the wall.

The place seemed difficult to find. But when you do find it, you'll surely visit often.

Clyde ushered him to a bar stool. He was obviously the only customer there.

"The place is temporarily private." Chan glanced at Clyde who noticed his silent question.

"What can I get you tonight?"

"Just coffee, please." Clyde nodded politely and fixed up his order.

"So," Chan's voice trailed off as he stood up and walked about the place. "Where's your partner?" Misha (the wolf) disappeared as soon as they stepped in the building. "He's patrolling." Clyde replied nonchalantly.

"Okay. When do I get to talk to your boss?"

Clyde stopped and glanced at him for a second before going back to churning the coffee beans.

"The boss won't be back until tomorrow." That's the hard part. In Tromso, you can't tell if it's really 'tomorrow'. They're in the season where it's 3 months of winter without the sun.

Chan didn't argue. He can't complain about the slightest things if he were to talk to Clyde's boss. He's got to keep his chances high.

"Would you show me your workplace instead?" Chan sat back down in his seat. Clyde settled the coffee in front of the vampire, bowing after he did so. 

"It would be a pleasure."

-

"What's he doing in Norway?!" Seungmin's voice bellowed around the house. "The kids are sleeping. Settle down." Woojin hushed him.

"Bet he's trying to get some help from his connections." Woong said. He twirled a pen between his fingers.

"That's what worries me," Seungmin slumped on his chair.

"His connections are not good people." Woojin continued. Woong stayed quiet. Even he was convinced.

"You guys have any idea where he is in Norway?"

"Tromso." Woojin muttered. "He knows someone powerful from there."

"You mean someone dangerous!" Seungmin gritted his teeth in annoyance. "Okay okay. Let's not jump to conclusions," Woong tried to calm down his fellow witch. "Actually, that person is dangerous."

Woong blinked twice and threw the pen he was playing with, it landed in the drawer that opened and closed by his will. He plopped beside Seungmin at the sofa, gathering his hands together. "Okay, well, then let's jump to conclusions." he said.

"Who's this powerful person he knows? And how did you know about him?" Seungmin questioned.

"I'm not always in the mansion," Woojin looked far out the window. "I liked to go places. And Chan, he knew a lot of interesting places. Interesting," he saw how Seungmin raised an eyebrow at him through his peripheral vision. "And kinda dangerous people." he cautiously continued.

"Nothing bad has happened so far."

"But something did happen." the witch edged him. "Of course, it wasn't always 'hi nice to meet you i'm fine thank you and you goodbye'. We had a few scuffles."

Some nights, the two would arrive at the mansion with a few cuts and bruises. Their torn and dirty clothes are disposed of for no tracesㅡSeungmin recalled. Little do they know, he was lurking around the stairs giving them a death glare through his spell Chan almost noticed he was there.

"So you had date nights with Chan without the rest of us knowing?"

"You knew."

Seungmin guessed that Woojin would take the hint. He's the only one with a functioning brain cell within the group.

"Anyway, who is he meeting there?"

Woojin hummed. His head turned towards the stairs. "Hyunjin"

"Hyunjin? Why the hell would he meet Hyunjin-" Seungmin stopped midway as he glanced at where Woojin was looking.

"Come here."

Hyunjin felt like he was intruding. "It's fine."

The alpha smiled softly, gesturing to the wolf to sit beside him. "Nonsense. Come here."

As Hyunjin settled down, he looked at the two witches. They didn't mind at all. Probably because they’d have this conversation again once everyone is here so, one less person to explain to.

Woojin continued. "An arbiter."

"An arbiter of what?"

"Death."

"Chan needed some information that only they have." he continued.

Woong looked at Woojin and waited for him to say it was a joke. But, he didn't. "They still exist?" Woong was way more interested in this topic.

Woojin nodded at him. "They do. But, I'm afraid they won't last long. New recruits aren't coming in and their numbers have begu=n to decline. As of this century," he paused. "There are only about 100 of them."

"That's too little." Woong thinned his lips. Those numbers wouldn't even make it through a couple more decades."It is. The boss wanted Chan and me to work there before."

"Really?" Seungmin's eyes widened.

"Yeah," the alpha scratched the back of his head. "We lost a barter with one of their superiors." Woojin smiled recalling how he and Chan sprinted away from the scene just before they could seal the deal.

"Then what is that stinkfart doing back there?! He's gonna get himself killed!"

Woojin's face gloomed.

"Chances are... he's already dead."

The room went still.

Woojin straightened up and looked around. Panic sets in. "Wait what no! What I meant is he's already dead now."

"We got that." Hyunjin replied.

"No! He's a vampire, he's dead."

"So," Woojin looked at Woong enthusiastically. Encouraging him to continue. "You're joking?"

He threw his hands in the air. Obviously, he clowned them at the wrong time. "Yes! Yes I am!" he sighed. Geez. No one in this house appreciates his humor. He threw a reassuring eye around the room.

"He's fine. He knows what he's doing. Help will always come."

-

"A pure heart. That boy's valuable indeed." Woong leaned against the counter of his shop. "Plus, he's Chan's bondmate."

"Damn. So, he's basically a vampire minus the fangs, bloodsucking and other quirks." Woong exclaimed. He just summed up Jeongin as he is. "Where'd you find him?"

Seungmin turned his back on Woong, he lifted himself up the counter to sit down. "We didn't find him." he smiled, looking out at the few people running around outside in the dark moonlight. There are a couple of supernatural beings who dwell in the dark. And this must be the perfect place for them. "He found us."

"That's why she's after him." they heard Woojin's soft vocals from upstairs. After Woong's last statement, they stopped talking. Listening to Woojin serenading the midnight sky.

After a while, the voice stopped singing and they heard the stairs creaking. Jeongin appeared clutching his arm. "Seungmin."

The witch pushed himself off the counter, he smiled at the boy. "I'm off to bed, Woong."

"Alright. I'll turn off the lights and head up in a while. You guys have a good night."

Seungmin walked to Jeongin, linking his hand to his. They descended up the stairs and walked silently to their shared room. "Chan's still not here?" Jeongin sat down on the bottom part of the bunk bed, his gaze following the taller.

Seungmin placed his phone and keys on the desk near the window. "Did you answer your mom's calls?"

Jeongin nodded when Seungmin turned to him. "I did. I told her I'm on a trip with you guys and she just said okay. She didn't even ask about school."

The witch stared at the boy's muddled expression. It's like he had not the slightest of who he was. "Hey," Seungmin sat beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She knows you're safe with us. And we kinda promised to protect you with our lives, so... that's kind of a thing now." Seungmin squeezed his shoulder. "We've only been gone for about 24 hours. School will be fine. I already talked to the vice president. He's gonna take over for a while. We'll figure something out about your situation in the morning." Jeongin finally broke into a smile. "Okay."

Afterwards, they settled down. Seungmin climbed up the second floor of the bunk bed, his actions rocking Jeongin below. "And about Chan. He'll be back soon. Don't worry about that old fart."

Jeongin hummed in response. The witch peered his head over the bed, he saw the boy's eyes flutter shut and before he knew it, Jeongin was in deep slumber. He flipped the light switch and the room was swallowed into darkness.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, letting a little light seep in.

"Oh hey. Can we talk?" Woojin smiled softly at Seungmin. He silently closed the door behind him, hoping not to wake up the young one. "Yeah." Seungmin hopped silently out of bed, walking towards Woojin who peered over the window. The witch waved his glowing hand. "I put up a spell so he won't hear us." the alpha nodded.

"Is this about Chan?" He said, now not in a whisper.

"No. I'm not even worried about him." Woojin chuckled. Seungmin looked at him intently. "Okay," he threw his hands up in defeat. "I'm a little worried. But, that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

The stars twinkled in the night sky, different beings roamed around the streets cheering, walking around and just enjoying the cold breeze. Woojin paused for a while, he knew Seungmin waited for him to continue.

The alpha turned to him, his eyes illuminating underneath the moonlight. Ah, today was a full moon. No wonder the witch felt so inferior. "You knew about Jeongin's past."

Seungmin shivered. The air suddenly became much colder. He looked behind him as he heard Jeongin shift underneath his blanket. "I did." he croaked. He was scared, he felt like his knees would give up at any second. Woojin's stare made it much harder for him to speak nor think. "Jeongin... isn't Jeongin."

He gathered his hands together. "His family is not really his real family."

Jeongin nodded, encouraging him to continue. "His mom found him in front of their doorstep. There was no letter. No evidence of who he was and why he was there. She just recently found out that he has a pure heart." by that he means; ‘I told her’. That's why she wasn't so worried about Jeongin's disappearance. Well, of course she's worried about him, he's still her son. But she's assured that the others will keep him safe.

"But, how does he look like them?" Seungmin pulled the chair under the desk and sat down. "A pure heart adapts. His face changes as he grows up, taking a few similarities from his adopted family." they both looked over Jeongin's head outside the blanket. "I just wished he didn't grow up with good people."

Woojin crossed his arms, tilting his head. Confusion evident on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Just like I said. A pure heart adapts. If his environment is good he grows up a good person and maintains his pure heart, a few mistakes and lies doesn't taint his heart. However, if it's from a not-so-good family situation,"

"He becomes a normal person." Woojin finished his words for him.

Seungmin sat still. Jeongin is normal. However, as he ages, more danger will arrive. A pure heart is rare. Once news breaks out about a pure heart existing in this century, everyone will try to get their hands on the boy.

"So," Woojin collected his thoughts. This information is like a nuclear bomb. "about him knowing that you and Woong were cursed,"

Seungmin looked up, meeting the alpha's painful eyes. "and the box easily unsealed after he touched it."

"It was not a coincidence." Woojin pieced their words together. "A pure heart has the ability to find out if a person is cursed. He/she also has the power to remove any seal or curse."

"Then why couldn't you still say anything about the expelled students? And," Woojin looked at him hopefully. "Changbin's curse?"

"Jeongin's powers are still hidden. The curse me and Woong have was given by the superiors of a strong witch academy. It's not that easy to remove. And Changbin's... he already accepted who he is. No one can undo it." Seungmin continued.

Woojin pondered on what Seungmin said about Changbin. He was right. Changbin has accepted who he is now. He had a rough time in doing it but eventually, he has no more regrets. Changbin didn't enjoy the abilities and all the plus points.

He enjoyed the company he met during those hard times.

"That being who's coming after us was after Jeongin." Seungmin gripped the sides of the chair, his fists turning white as anger boiled within him. "She already knows about him. We can't risk going back outside." but hiding like fugitives wasn’t the best option either.

Woojin took a closer step, he knelt down in front of Seungmin and touched his face. "Hey, it's okay. We're here. We won't let anything bad happen to him." the witch peered down to him.

He always had this dad figure mixed with a bit of mom and brother which sounds disgusting by the way. Anyway, the strength that holds them up was Woojin.

He's always calm and composed, which is needed most of the time when they're in a fiasco. His presence is so comforting yet he exudes so much power and superiority.

"I'd actually rather die of different causes rather than by an ancient vampire dude." Seungmin finally smiled. "Me too. Chan's scarier than any being in the universe."

They both stood up and the spell went away. "Tell me about it. Even death is afraid of him." Woojin whispered.

They stood there silently. "I don't think I can sleep now." Seungmin admitted. After the revelation, his energy was depleted but his thoughts ran around his head making it harder for him to rest.

They abruptly held their breaths, slowly turning to Jeongin. The boy had shuffled around his blanket but this time he woke and sat up. He blinked a few times, adjusting to two silhouettes against the moonlight. "Seungmin? Woojin?"

Woojin composed himself first and walked to his bed. He sat down near Jeongin's legs and smiled at him. "Sorry to wake you up, kid. We were just talking about Chan and how big of a dickhead he is."

Seungmin stood in front of Woojin. "And how we would rather die a torturous death than be killed by that nutcase." Woojin chuckled. "That too." he agreed.

"Count me in," Jeongin smiled softly.

He searched for his phone underneath his pillow and looked at the time. "I don't think I can sleep now." the boy didn't get any sleep for almost 24 hours. But he just couldn't rest until Chan's out there figuring things out on his own.

"Alright." Woojin stood up abruptly, smacking his head hard on the bed. "Fuck." he cursed. Seungmin snorted, while Jeongin flailed around asking if he was okay before breaking into soft giggles.

"Let's have a midnight snack downstairsㅡow." Woojin winced and wobbled as he walked out the door, spilling light into the room. Jeongin got up from bed, still stifling his laughter.

They trailed behind Woojin.

"And maybe an ice pack for your head."

#stray kids #hero's soup #kpop au #au #stray kids au #bangchan #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #woojin #Lee Minho #leeknow #changbin #seungmin #hyunjin #jisung #jeongin #felix #wolf au #vampire au #ab6ix #ab6ix woong #woong #jeong woong

[loyalflutist]

20 Minutes (YukoRena)

Imagine being abducted. Imagine disappearing from your apartment. Imagine being tied up. Imagine being in the same bed as your captor. Imagine the horror of not knowing what might happen to you the next day. Well, that wasn't how the cop felt. That was her girlfriend's predicament. Keys were heard, rapidly pressing on the keyboard from nearby. Arms crossed, Oshima Yuko stood by and watched an operator, Takahashi Minami, scan for nearby areas at her booth. A police department in Osaka, they were one of the few groups that become highly active after midnight. Usually, there would only be a small handful present. This base was the complete opposite. Just as if it was the start of the day, almost everyone was ready to go out when trouble arrives. Phones ringing, frantic yells, conversations with witnesses and victims, criminals brought into the interrogation room, and mad dashes were seen everywhere. A glance at the workplace's wall clock told the squirrel that it was 12:30 AM. It has been almost four hours since Matsui Rena's kidnap. Yuko had gone out to purchase ingredients for tonight. It was roughly 7:00 PM when she headed out from their shared apartment. A promise that the couple would recreate a cuisine they've seen on television just yesterday was made between the two. Thus she left the older Matsui behind. Once 9:00 PM rolled around the corner, that was when she stood in front of the door. Yet there was an oddity. Door opened. Doorknob damaged. Interiors were disheveled. Girlfriend nowhere to be seen. Oh, the panic the officer had to go through! Desperation overrode her sanity as she ran throughout their apartment, screaming for Rena’s name. Half an hour was spent. Yuko was unable to get anything out of this situation. The only conclusion she came to was that she was kidnapped by someone. Why would they steal Rena away? Why would they choose her? Why abduction? What are they planning to do with her? So many questions, not a single answer provided. Detectives are still trying to decipher the crime scene. Answers will be given sometime tomorrow. It’s just so frustrating being unable to do anything other than wait for clues. “Yuko... “ A gentle nudge was felt on her arm. The cop in black glanced over at the source. Matsui Jurina extended a filled coffee mug towards her. Although it was a simple gesture, Yuko appreciated the young lawyer’s kindness. “Thank you…” she softly said, receiving the caffeinated product. Jurina remained standing by her colleague’s side. Holding her own cup of coffee, she took a sip from it. “Rena doesn’t deserve this. Once you guys capture the kidnapper, I’m going to make sure they get the punishment they deserve.” “If only the law was more lenient, I would’ve murdered the person myself.” “Try that, and I won’t hesitate to see you in court too,” the puppy playfully smirked, brown eyes shifted and focused on the operator. “Just a heads up, I won’t be defending you.” Had this been a light-hearted atmosphere, Yuko wouldn’t hesitate to laugh. However, she grimaced and stared down at her coffee. “Of course, prosecutor. You help press the charges onto the guilty.” “You know me well--” There was a sudden ringing of the phone on one of the operator’s desk. That came from Minami’s. The short female ceased further typing and activated her black headset. "110, what's the address of your emergency?" she spoke into the mic. "Right across a shrine in Joto Ward..." That soft voice. That soft, sweet, gentle voice whispering on the other line. Her eyes widen. Minami knew this voice all too well. She immediately used her two-way radio to connect on the line with the active police. Information about the current call expanded to six randomly chosen officers, prompting them to do their job. Yuko didn’t hesitate to jump into action once the brown-haired woman mouthed, ‘It’s Rena.’ before running out of the room. Several more followed suit. As she listened in to the telephone conversation through her earpiece, the cop rushed out and into the parking lot where all of the cars are located. Her most trusted partner, Maeda Atsuko, sat in the driver seat with a novel in one hand. A single glance up caused the black-haired female to tuck the book back inside her jacket. Yuko slammed the passenger door shut as Atsuko switched the siren on. “What’s the case this time?” she asked. “It’s my girlfriend.” “All the more reason to hurry.” They were the first to leave the basement’s garage. About two more vehicles accompanied the wailing vehicle. A nearby security guard was able to lift the metal barrier upward, allowing the three cars to burst out into the road. The darkness that clouded their surroundings were broken through by headlights and flashing colors of red and blue. What could’ve been a silent, peaceful night shattered? Oshima Yuko clicked the police radio on within their car. Voices from the operator were switched from her earpiece to the vehicle’s device. At that same moment, the brown-haired female rapidly clicked on the keyboards, her eyes darting left and right on the bright screen. "What is it?" Minami questioned again, unable to hear the location very well. A soft, shaky sigh came from the older Matsui. "Shrine... Joto... Joto Ward..." Perfect. It was close to where their police department building was located. The only bad news was that it might take at least 15 minutes to arrive at the location. Five minutes would easily be eaten up searching throughout the premise. A shrine did allow the police and operator to narrow the search, but it’s still too vague. Was she inside it? Was she nearby? What happened to Rena? Is she still in captivity or was she free, wandering about in confusion? Whatever it may be, following Minami’s protocol, she continued the recorded conversation. "Okay, what’s the problem?”   "I've been abducted." This confirmed the fact that Rena has been taken away by someone. "Are you at the shrine?" "No... I'm in a house… In a bedroom with him." Another confirmation made. This time, it proved that she was still in captivity. Back in the police car, Yuko roughly rubbed the side of her head as Atsuko sped through the quiet road. The man who kidnapped her girlfriend is still by her side. What the heck is going on?! When the older Matsui mentioned the terminology ‘bedroom’, it infuriated the officer. “I swear, if I see this motherfucker lay one dirty hand on her, I’m going to murder him,” she ground her teeth. Her partner shot a glance at the squirrel. “Yuko, it’s too soon to assume. If you lose your cool right now, you won’t be able to save Rena.” Static emitted from the radio device once again as the conversation between caller and receiver continued. "Do you know what color the house is?" "No." A pause. "Please... hurry." Takahashi Minami felt the side of her face became moist as she frantically searched in the database. So little information, so little time. Pinpointing a location is difficult when it’s reached by a cellular device. Not receiving anything more on the older Matsui’s end increased its difficulty. She needs to gather information from satellites and signal towers, and that would easily eat up ten minutes just to get a rough approximation. An operator’s job on the police line is also to keep the victim as calm as possible. Thus, the young woman asked again. "Does he have a weapon?" "He's got a taser." "And are you injured?" "A little." A little injury. Any more than that and the uniformed officer would’ve gone berserk. How out of character for someone who always played the role of a clown. Another glare was shot at her from the driver’s seat as Atsuko made a sharp turn, avoiding a speeding truck. "Is there any way you can get out of the building?" "I don't know without waking him, and I'm scared." "Is there a bathroom in the house?" "His bedroom is closed, and he made it so it would make noise." "So if you told him you had to go to the bathroom, he would do something to you?" "Yeah, because he had me tied up." This criminal is smarter than any average culprit. Minami’s brows furrowed. "So are you tied up now?" "Well, I... yeah, but I kind of freed myself--" A faint gasp was heard on the other line. "Shit, I woke him up." Yuko felt her heart rate increase by two-fold. The adrenaline of fury was immediately joined by one of terror. The palms of her hands became clammy. She curled her hands into fists, eyes trained on the radio. Faintly, the two police officers could hear shuffling of the bedsheets in the line’s background. Minami was quick to make a decision for everyone’s sake. "Just set the phone down." Then, complete silence. Not a single noise emitted from Rena’s side. The weight of the tension grew heavier by every passing second, the most burden resting on top of Yuko’s shoulders. She couldn’t even squeak a response out of her own mouth, terrified that she might be the one to dig her girlfriend’s grave even deeper… even though she knew nothing would happen if the officer spoke. Atsuko glanced at her partner. She too didn’t utter a word. What seems like an hour ticked by once a minute passed. Nervously, Minami readjusted her headset back in the office. "Are you still there?" the operator called out. "How much longer?" Ah, an answer from Rena. That means her captor is still asleep. Yet her shaky, quiet voice made it difficult to comprehend what was mumbled. "What?" "How much longer?" A little bit louder this time. "Can you get out of the house?" "It's locked." "It's locked? Are you at the door?" "Yeah, I am." Progression. It looks like the older Matsui was able to carefully sneak her way past the bedroom and remain near an exit. Faint traces of relief washed over those who were listening as Minami proclaimed, “She’s at the door!” Just a little more to go till they were able to save her. However, this could mean life or death for the caller. If her kidnapper wakes up right now, then it’s over for everyone, especially for Rena. "Is there a window then?" "Yeah, I'm looking out of it. Tell them to come back." "She said--" "Hurry, hurry!" "She said to hurry up and come back." That was their cue to retrace their steps. With the added tone of desperation sprinkled in, Yuko cursed that they had just passed by their location at this time of the day. Atsuko, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate her partner losing control of her cool. As an officer, maintaining a calm composure is their utmost priority to performing their job. Vehicles with lights of blue and red flashed in the darkness next to their destination. Officer Maeda and Oshima hurried out from their car and rushed towards the front entrance. Soon they were joined by Yokoyama Yui, Yamamoto Sayaka, Akimoto Sayaka, and Miyazawa Sae, all standing right behind them. Sayanee had both hands on her hips with a stern expression as her partner, Yui, pulled out her handgun. Sayaka followed Yui’s action, fluidly sliding the firing weapon out of its holster. Sae, her comrade, allowed a faint smile to run across her face as she crossed her arms. The six strongest members of the station’s night shift were ready to tackle this urgent case. The possibility of failure was extremely slim with these folks. “Let’s get this rescue underway,” Sae remarked, uncrossing her arms… only to get hit on the side of the head by her partner. “Ouch! Why the Hell did you hit me--” “Sae, stop fooling around and help me and Acchan get this door down.” One of the two tallest duos laid her eyes upon Yuko. “Didn’t Rena mention that she’s near a window?” Yuko nodded. Then, brown eyes skimming the front windows, it didn’t take 30 seconds to find her girlfriend. Standing with an expression that was never seen by Yuko herself. Like a kitten who has been frightened by her surrounding, Rena trembled as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. The cellular device that was used to call for help slipped out of her grasp. As it loudly thumped on the old wooden floorboards, the female pressed her hands against the glass surface. Her lips moved, but no one from the outside could hear her cry for help. Seeing Rena in this state both infuriated and broke Yuko’s spirit. “I found her!” She blindly rushed forward. Oh, the sight of her girlfriend made her heart race even faster than ever! If it prolonged in this state, it might lead to a case of a fatal heart condition! Yuko felt the corner of her eyes become moist as she frantically searched for an opening of the closed window. “Shit…. Shit shit shit! Where the hell is an opening when you need it?!” Her leathered fingers fumbled around, eyes rapidly flickering around for any clue. Time was of importance. Being calm was pushed to the back burner as the thought of her girlfriend being caught again by the criminal psychological tormented the officer. That is until Atsuko’s voice rang out. “YUKO! Stop freaking out, and CALM DOWN.” God, Oshima wanted to snap back at her comrade-in-arm. Who was she to tell her what to do in this predicament? It’s her girlfriend, for crying out loud! How would Atsuko feel if it were Takahashi Minami?! Right when she opened her mouth, Officer Yokoyama placed a hand on the panicking member’s shoulder. “Yuko, you’re going to scare Rena if you continue to act this way.” A pause. Yuko stared directly at Yui, who proceeded to stand by her side and slip her own fingers underneath the window. Then, with a grunt, the Kyoto female pulled it upward. Muscles from within her exposed wrists and lower arm tightened as the object opened a pathway inch by inch. It was finally up all the way. A loud sigh came from the officer as she backed away from Officer Oshima. Then, she flashed a weak smile at her direction. “After all, you’re scaring your partner too. I don’t think this will go well if we have our leader panic.” That was right… Oshima Yuko is the head of this group. As the head officer of the station’s night shift, having her lose her composure strained the atmosphere into a whole new level of discomfort. The squirrel returned her gaze back to the now-opened window. There stood Matsui Rena. She currently has both hands pressed against her own chest, breathing rapidly with tears still streaming down her face. Yuko’s eyes widen. Yui wasn’t wrong. She was absolutely correct. How could she lose control of herself like this? She closed her eyelids, sucked in a deep breath, exhaled all of the carbon dioxides, and reopened her eyes. What was once a facial expression filled with despair and terror was washed over with calmness and seriousness. As Atsuko, Sayaka, and Sae worked on breaking down the door, Yuko extended both of her gloved hands towards her girlfriend. In a clear voice, she exclaimed, “Hurry, come to me!” When she saw her girlfriend remain cool and collected, she wasn’t as frightened as she was before. Still, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation. Rena scrambled to get through the parted window. Shaky hands gripped ahold of the edges as the woman made an attempt to traverse to safety. Her girlfriend took a step closer, the leather material from her gloves brushing on Rena’s shoulders the further the victim got out. Finally, Yuko managed to pull the terrified woman out of the house. Arms protectively wrapped around the older Matsui as the officer distanced themselves away from the premise. “Officer Oshima got her,” Sayanee radioed into their station. The black box representing the communication device was close to her mouth as she continued. “Officer Maeda, Akimoto, and Miyazawa are attempting break-in of the culprit’s hideout.” Minami immediately replied into her team's earpiece and communication device. "Okay, they got her." Finally, confirmation about the safety of Rena in the record. Though Yuko may not need it since her girlfriend was in her arms, it was great news for her teammates who were unaware. A gentle kiss was placed on the female’s head as they retracted. Both of her hands reached out to tenderly caress the tall woman’s face, thumbs wiping away the wet smears from Rena’s tears. She examined her girlfriend’s disheveled figure. Minor injuries were planted on some parts of her body. The wrists for being tied up. The light bruise on her forehead, possibly from either being intentionally hit or accidentally bumping against something. Nothing severe enough to call for an ambulance. Yuko’s eyes resumed to looking straight at Rena’s. She leaned forward to give another soothing smooch to the tip of her nose before asking an important question. “Where is he?” “Bedroom, sleeping.” “Still sleeping?” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t know if I should praise you for being the sneakiest ninja alive or if I should thank God for dosing him with some ridiculous sleeping spell.” Then, not letting her girl respond to the remark, she lowered her gloved hands. When one of the two was raised, a revolver was in her grasp. Yuko deactivated the safety lock as she flashed another grin. “Don’t you worry anymore. You’re now safe with us… with me.” A command was given out that Yokoyama Yui and Yamamoto Sayaka stay put with Rena. Leaving her alone was far too risky, and everyone agreed that she needed to have two guards by her side. As she sat in one of the police vehicles, all the older Matsui could do was watch the other four members break into the house. The front door finally smashed in, Yuko and Atsuko were in the frontline as Sayaka and Sae followed from behind. All readied in an offensive stance, their weapons aimed at every nook and cranny as they progressed towards the bedroom. Flashlights from their chest had been clicked on, beaming brightly in the musty inside. The abandoned shelter barely had anything in it. Not to mention the creepy atmosphere that surrounded the dark home. Perfect for a criminal hideout. Up to the stairs, they went… and at the doorway of the only bedroom in the house. The door already slightly jarred thanks to Rena’s action from earlier, they were able to peer in. Based on their observation, the man was… still asleep? The sleeping fairy must’ve blessed them well to be able to catch a criminal this easily… Yuko glanced at her teammates. Two fingers up in the air, she motioned them all towards the door with a nod. It immediately became loud and noisy. The door slammed open, guns aimed at the kidnapper, and lights from their device illuminated the entire room. The slumbering man is no more. "This is the police!” Atsuko proclaimed as she took a step towards the now-startled man. Tip pointed directly at his face, index finger ready at the trigger as a sign of threat, Yuko added to her statement. “Show us your hands. Put up your fucking hands! Right now. Do it!" Hesitation. He hesitated, but considering his predicament, he has no choice but to oblige to their request. Had he not been defenseless nor dizzy from being forcefully woken, this might’ve gone differently. Both of his hands slowly raised in the air. Sae instantly used this chance to lower her weapon and handcuff him. Everything afterward came as a blur to Yuko. The arrest process. The man being stuffed into one of her comrades’ vehicles to the police station for interrogation. Returning back to the station for recovery… It all flashed forward. Rena sat next to Yuko, her arms wrapped around one of the squirrel’s arm as she was draped in a blanket thanks to a certain attorney. They were in an empty meeting room. Originally, no civilians are permitted to enter the premise, but… for tonight, since the boss wasn’t in the house, this is an exception. Silence filled the atmosphere. A bandage was patched on the older Matsui’s forehead as gauzes protected her bruised wrists from further damages. She laid her head on top of Yuko’s shoulder, brown eyes staring straight at the empty white wall. They haven’t interacted with each other since the arrest. Yuko nervously glanced at the raven-haired female. As an officer, she was prepared for anything in this line of work. It comes with being a part of serving the public. However, for an ordinary civilian like Matsui Rena, this was life-changing. “...neh, Yuko-chan…” “Hm?” She tightened her grip on Yuko’s arm. “I’m… really scared…” “Even when I’m around?” “No… It’s just… when you’re not around… I’m scared something bad like today… would happen again.” Yuko let out a soft sigh. She would want to proclaim that she won’t let it happen again. She sincerely didn’t want it to happen anymore, but it was a lie if she were to utter such promises. The Japanese knew very well that she can’t be around her girlfriend 24/7. If such a thing were to occur, things might’ve not gone as smoothly as this night. An exhausted exhale shakily exited out of her lips as she turned her body, adjusting Rena’s figure so she was able to properly embrace the woman. Eyelids lowered, she tightened her hold. “I see… In that case, I want you to know that no matter what, if anything like this happens, I will come and save you.” Rena raised her head. There it is again. The tears that were beginning to sprout from the lacrimal glands. Officer Oshima became speechless at the sight. She really was terrified… and there was nothing the authoritative figure could do. When Rena noticed that the squirrel remained silent, she pressed her face against the police’s chest. “But I don’t want this to ever happen again…” “Rena…” “...” “Rena, please… can you look at me?” It took some time until she finally heeded to her request. When she positioned herself so she was facing the squirrel directly, Rena… just realized how close they were. Their breaths easily felt with each exhale… It tickled her skin a little bit. Yuko decided to use this chance to reach up and cup her lover’s face with her hands. “I know you don’t want it to happen again, babe…” Oshima leaned forward. Lips pressed against the others, Yuko didn’t hesitate to close her eyes and give it her all with this interaction. Matsui was taken aback from the authority’s action but too closed her eyelids. A single tear fell from her left eye as they parted briefly, only to come together for another round. They panted after retracting from each other once again. Foreheads lightly touching, Yuko whispered, “That’s why I’m going to protect you. Even when I’m not there, I’ll always come for you. Can you trust me with that?” “...I…” Her answer was interrupted by the appearance of another individual in the room. With a new presence, their conversation came to an abrupt halt as the lawyer held two cups of green tea. Jurina, however smart she was, clearly couldn’t read the situation. It didn’t help that she initiated a totally different topic by talking about the kidnapping case and how it will be handled in court for the next week or so. The answer that Yuko wanted to hear… whether Rena could trust her or not… Oh well, she could ask again later. Hopefully, it’s a response that would implement the young female’s trust in the older officer...

#loyalflutist #fan fic #fan fiction #one shot #os #akb48 #yukorena

[thedevilsfavoritebastard-blog]

Tendrils (A horror story)

The wind is howling outside, making my house groan. I’m in the back corner of my room, watching the blizzard go by. My gaze drifted to the clock hanging on the wall across from where I was. 11:57 it said. 3 minutes away from my birthday. I’m going to be twelve years old soon. I looked over at the clown doll, sitting on a tiny stool across from me. That abomination of a toy. For weeks this thing has tormented me and toyed with my emotions, driving me into insanity. They said I was crazy. But I know what I fucking saw! They don’t know shit! These thoughts made me shiver, as I put my hands over my head, rocking back and forth. How the hell did we get here?

My mother died when I was 6 years old from leukemia . This has taken a drastic toll on my family, particularly me and my father. Naturally, I became emotionally distraught around this time. I was always up late at night, calling out to my mother and crying. I was hoping that she somehow did open the door to my room, and ran to my bed to comfort me. “Don’t worry Jason.” She’d say, “I’ll protect you no matter what.” “Even from Dad?” I would ask. “Yes, even your father.” If only she were still alive. My father was grieving just as much as I was. The only difference between me and my father’s grieving methods, was that his involved drinking. Heavily. What’s a broken home without a drunk maniac that reacts violently to the smallest of things? Broken bottles of beer and their shards scattered the floors of our home. And if I wasn’t locked inside of my room when he was drunk, he would beat me senseless. This made going home after school feel more like asking for a death sentence.  

A few years after my mother’s death, I began middle school. This is also a point of my life where I became more self-conscious about myself, with a hint of social awkwardness thanks to that good old-fashioned aspergers. This made me an easy target for bullies. In other words, I was the punching bag for those who wanted to let out their aggression, and knew that I wouldn’t fight back because I was too scared. Everyday after school, I would sprint out, trying to get as far away as fast as possible, without getting jumped by these goons. Sometimes they wouldn’t catch me, sometimes they would. And when they did, I was mercilessly beaten. Kicks and punches to the gut, throwing me against the wall, taking swings across my face. You name it, they did it. After they had their way with me and left, I would sluggishly limp back home. I would crawl upstairs into my room, and then cry for hours on end, maybe cut my wrists a bit. I lost track of time after a while, feeling like I was in an endless loop of tortue. And when I walk into my room, that doll...that fucking doll…

This doll was a gift my mother gave me in her will, not long after her passing. She said it was the same one she had growing up, and that she wanted me to keep it in her memory. A symbol of her love and a keepsake, so that I could keep a part of her with me. And while I did appreciate the gift, there was something about it that didn’t sit well with me, at times knotting up my stomach and making me downright creeped out and uncomfortable. It at times seemed to be staring at me with those deep eyes, making me uncomfortable at night. So uncomfortable that I at times refused to sleep with it, instead letting it reside in that corner of my room. I would keep a watchful eye of it, until I finally became overwhelmed with sleep fatigue, and passed out for the rest of the night. One night, I was so unsettled by its appearance that I ended up stowing it away in my closet. I left it in there until the following morning. Then my father found it in there, and placed it back on my bed. When I arrived from school at the end of the day, he started to scold me, and said that by putting the doll away in the closet I was disrespecting my mother. By scold I mean, yell and curse, while shoving one of her portraits in my face. At that point I would place the doll on the stool at the other end of the room from my bed, facing away from it, and hiding under the covers. When I got up the next day, I would shakily pick it up and put it back on my bed.

At times I would find the doll in places I didn’t leave it. Sometimes I would walk into my room after I got home from school to see it on top of my dresser, or looking out the window. Sometimes even right in front of the door when I opened it. These occurrences made me reasonably more afraid of this gift, but also my father naturally wouldn’t believe me. I began to keep an even closer eye on it now, wary of what kind of scare tactic it would have next. These tactics were shown more often than I’d like to remember. For instance, one night I was crying in my room from a long walk home, after taking a brutal beatdown from my typical bullies at school. I suddenly heard a faint cry coming from behind me. Strange. I thought was alone though. I turned to see the culprit itself, sitting in the middle of the floor right in front of my bed. Were those tears falling from its eyes? Another time, I had self-harmed after having been fed up with the current situation I had no control over. I cried uncontrollably, snot, tears and all sliding down my face. I passed out, only to have awaken after what felt like forever. I realized that my wounds were patched up, and that the doll was in my lap, hugging me. I shrieked, and threw it at the wall, backing away from it as far as possible. These are only some of the few occurrences that tormented me for almost three years, driving me farther into insanity as this thing continually toyed with me, finding some new bizarre way to frighten me each day.

Snapping back into reality, I eyed the doll once more. I felt it watching me, as I was having trouble figuring out whether the chills I was feeling on my back were from the cold air, or the sight of the clown. I looked over at my clock. Midnight. I was officially twelve years old. Once again, I moved my gaze back to the doll. Then the thought crossed my mind. I stood up, facing this cursed object directly. I was about to do something I should’ve done ages ago. I was going to destroy it.

I snatched the doll up, swiftly sneaking downstairs, trying not to wake up my father. I dashed to the closet at the end of our kitchen, slipping on my snow boots and my coat. Before I finished putting my coat on, I felt something grab onto my ankle. The horror itself, with all its limbs wrapped around my joint, looked up at me, seemingly innocent. Not cute. I panicked and covered my mouth in an attempt not to make any noise, violently throwing my leg around until it lost its grip, flying in the other direction. The solidity of its head didn’t help my attempt at not creating noise, as it slammed into the wall with a loud thud.

Upstairs I heard a stirring, and then a shout. “What the fuck!” Oh no. Dad was drunk again. I heard glass shattering, as he then began to stomp out of his room. Shrouded in immediate panic, I snatched up the doll running into the closet. I heard my father finally reach the foot of the stairs. “Where are you, you little fucker!” I began to cry, my mind beginning to fill with the dreadful possibilities of what could happen if he did find me. The doll suddenly began to hug me in an odd attempt to comfort me. Not only was I now fearing my safety, but I was in absolute confusion as well. What was this doll’s deal?

“Jason.” I heard my father’s voice resonate through the hall as he slowly edged closer to the kitchen. “Come out buddy. I just wanna talk.” Like hell that was happening. My breath began to grow shaky, when he reached the foot of the closet. A cold sweat swept over me, realizing I was just mere seconds from an abusive beating if I didn’t keep quiet. He then stopped right in front of the closet door. In that exact moment time stopped, as I almost completely forgot how to breathe. Everything felt still for just those few seconds.

The door to the closet opened, as my father’s eyes pierced into my soul, making me cower before him. “You little shit!” Before I had a chance to shout or plead for mercy, I was grabbed by the neck and lifted in the air. My father carried me out of the kitchen, through the hallway to our front porch. He then, threw me out into the blistering cold snow storm. While trying to regain what oxygen I didn’t get during the chokehold, and attempting to adjust my vision to the harsh new environment, my father took the opportunity to pin me to the ground. “What were you doing out of bed!” He shouted. I began to cry. “Please! Please don’t hurt me!” I begged. Instead my father proceeded to swing at me across my face, giving me a black eye. “Tell me now, brat!” I gave up on begging at this point, and began to meltdown uncontrollably, as my father began to beat me, ruthlessly and relentlessly. I tried to cover myself from the blows, clamping my eyelids shut in terror.

Then suddenly, I heard a loud piercing sound, and the sound of my father gagging followed. All the punches he was throwing at me stopped. I looked up, to see my father with a massive swollen tendril pierced through the back of his neck, sticking out of the front. Blood was dripping from out of his mouth onto my face. I shrieked, backing away from the corpse, as the tendril retracted itself from my father’s neck. My father’s lifeless body fell into the snow, and behind it was the doll, standing on it own. Its face was split open to reveal the largest number of tendrils any human could witness. I froze in fear, as they began to retract back, and the doll’s face closed shut.

And at that very moment, the doll moved its gaze toward me and began to approach me. Although after witnessing what had happened to my father, I wasn’t too fond of whatever it had in store for me. I sprung up and ran away into the blizzard, screaming without looking back.