Henry Bowers x FEM!Reader
Chapter summery: you deal with Henry and his wounds. As the night grows later, the heart grows fonder.
Word count: 3,015
Estimated read time: 14 min
A/N: please read my important update on my page if you haven’t already
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I won’t tell if you won’t
You get to the house gate and gently open it before ushering Henry to walk to the front door while you lock the gate. After a second of locking you jog over and meet him on the porch.
“Kevin is asleep, so keep your fucking mouth shut till I say so” you remark as you put your hand on the handle.
“Why? Don’t want your boyfriend to see you with another guy” Henry growled.
“I’m not even responding to that bullshit anymore dude.”You roll your eyes and take his hand again before opening the door. Henry follows you inside and you drag him up the stairs quietly. Once in your room you shut the door and take a towel from the hamper and shove it against the bottom part of your door to keep your voices from carrying.
“Sit down while I get everything.” You say kindly.
“Fuck you. Why did you even bring me up here?” You can see even as he speaks with hatred he’s still shaking. You hated to say it but as much as he was annoying you, you felt bad for him.
“Can you just fucking cooperate for 2 fucking seconds, Henry?” As you snap at him, killer stirs from his slumber on the bed. He growls lowly at Henry. You snap your fingers while your back is turned to the 2 of them and killer immediately softens. You pick up everything Kevin got you from the pharmacy. In retrospect you are kinda glad you were there for the fight. Otherwise you wouldn’t have had everything you needed to fix him up. You drop everything onto the bed and stand before Henry as he sits on the edge of the bed.
You look at him expectantly but he just glares at you.
“If I ask you to do something will you do it or will I have to do it myself?” You ask. You become aware of the fact you feel completely exposed. You are only in shorts and a short sleeve big shirt. Your tattoo is on full display. Your arm is on full display.
Henry grunts and you take that as a, “no I won't be helpful for 2 seconds so you can do something nice, even though I literally beat the tar out of you”
You reach out to him and he flinches. You still, then try again but slower. You take your robe off his shoulders and drop it to the floor beside the bed. You have to ask him to do something you really don’t want to. You have to ask him for something you know he will fight you on.
“Henry,” you state and his eyes don’t falter from yours. “I need you to take off your shirt” again without removing his eyes from yours in a steady glare he says.
“Fuck. You.”
You click your tongue. “Tu padre.” You snap back. “Either you take it off or I will. !” You just need him to stop being so fucking difficult.
Finally. His eyes move from yours to the floor as he stands. He turns around slowly and begins to shake harder. Is he scared? Embarrassed? What’s wrong? You find out what's wrong as he lifts up his shirt with his back turned to you. He’s covered in scars. Fresh cuts litter his skin along with bruises. Some look years old, some weeks, and some not even an hour ago. Long discolored marks across his back stand out against his tan skin.
He has a fresh(ish) cigarette burn on his back, maybe from a day ago? Who cares when it was from? It still looked painful. You pick up the Bactine spray and the cotton pads. You place a flat palm to the unharmed part of his back and he flinches. He’s still shaking like crazy. His skin is so warm and he smells like cigarettes, rain, and fire. You love the smell. If you could put it in a candle you would.
“This is gonna sting like a bitch.” You warn softly and he nods.
“Just fucking get it over with.”
So you do. You take the spray and do 1 spray on each individual cut and burn including the one on his neck (which was a little harder to get because he’s so much taller than you, and he was doing you no favors). Once you sprayed them you cleaned them with the cotton pads and covered them with bandages. Once you finish the cuts you lean down beside him to grab the bruise cream. You swear, that out of the corner of your eye, you say Henry bowers with tears on his face. You make no comment, you put the cream on your fingers and rub it into the bruises. New or old. You didn’t care, you wanted to help him heal faster.
“Henry…” you say as gently as possible. “Turn around.”
You could see from his back that there was bruising on his ribs and you needed to not only apply medicine but also make sure nothing was broken.
“No.”
“Henry please. Your ribs could be broken just turn around.”
“I said. Fuck. No.”
“He-“ you were cut off by his arm coming back to hit you. You tried to grab it and it caused a struggle. Eventually after some fighting you flipped Henry around and pinned him to your bed. You didn’t want to hurt him but you didn’t know what to do. You sat on his hips and released his arms. They immediately went to hide his face. You pick the cream back up and gently rub it in. After you finish you gently press 2 fingers around the bruise.
“Does it hurt here?”
“No..”
“How about here”
“…” no reply, you guess that means a little. You press one more time to the darkest part of the bruise and ask again.
“Here?”
He hissed in pain as a reply. He has 1 broken rib and you think 2 bruised ribs.
“You have a broken rib and a couple bruised ones, if you ice them and don’t terrorize people for a few weeks you should be fine. No need for a hospital.”
He scoffs at you and pushes you off him. He stands to put his shirt back on. Wincing as he reached down then put his arms above his head to get it back on.
“Sorry about throwing dirt at you.” You snort. He didn’t seem to find it as funny as he sat back down on the bed beside Killer who was out like a light again .
“If you want I can turn on a movie and you can leave when you feel better?”
“I don’t want your fuckin pity.” He hissed.
“It’s not pity, it’s worry. And judging by the fact you ran into my shed, I’d say you don’t have anywhere else to go. Why not put up with me for a few hours until you feel better?” god talking to him was infuriating.
He didn’t reply to your comment, he just looked at your tattoo.
“When’d ya get that?”
“2 years ago”
“Why do you hide it at school?”
“The people in this town are major fuckin judge boats and I don’t need anyone having an opinion on something that is special to me” you deadpan.
He snorts “you got that fuckin right.” He agrees. He looks over to killer on the bed and questions, “what kind of a fuckin name is killer?”
You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this situation. Henry Bowers, on your bed, asking about your weird ass dog.
You tell him the story and notice he’s shaking a little less. “When I was like 8 I told Kevin while he was babysitting me and Issac that if I ever had a big scary dog, I’d name it killer because I think it’s a cute name and everyone else would find it soooo scary” you mock yourself. “So when Kev got him for me a year ago he just named him that.”
He thinks for a second, smiling a little at the story.
“Issac?” He questions.
“He was my best friend growing up. Died a few years ago from cancer. That’s when Kevin moved here” you felt like every time the 2 of you exchanged words the less he shook and the more relaxed you both became.
There was still blood on his face but you dared not ask him to clean it. You already pushed him so far tonight.
“You need any food?” You inquired.
“Fuck yes. I’m starving.” He groans. You liked him like this. Relaxed. Not being a dick. You can’t deny you found him extremely attractive.
Oh shit.
You like Henry Bowers.
The boy who fucking terrorizes your friends. The boy who gave you a black eye when you tried to help him. The boy you are currently sneaking into the kitchen with for some late night food. You have a huge crush. On Henry fucking Bowers. You turn on the light to the kitchen while you and Henry scavenge. You whisper to him to “take anything you like” after some fumbling around in the cupboard you drop a plastic container of cookies on the floor with a loud “THUD”.
You and henry freeze. Looking at each other with fear that you woke up Kevin. As if on cue you hear Kevin’s grumble from his room.
“______?” Your name comes to your ears through the door.
“Yeah? I’m just getting some food.” You look to Henry in panic and he’s just as lost as you.
“Okay big back. Stop makin so much fuckin noise” Kevin calls then goes back to bed.
You snort and Henry almost dies trying to hold in a laugh. Only your best friend would call you a big back while half asleep.
You and Henry finish getting some food and make your way back up the stairs. You sit on the bed together and turn on some stupid ass movie that you really aren’t paying attention to. The pair of you just talk.
“Bev told me you weren’t at school the rest of the day. You ditch?” He stiffened then relaxed.
“I lost my dads knife while we were chasing after you and those losers. Spent the rest of the day looking for it and never found it. Got home a little over an hour ago hoping my dad would be asleep. He wasn’t. The school called him about me ditching and he was pissed. Then he asked for the knife I took from him and he got even more pissed….” He trails of sadly.
You put 2 and 2 together. Henry’s dad hits him. You frown at the realization and really just want to give him a hug. He dosnt deserve that, sure he’s a fuckin prick most of the time, but you think that’s only a product of his dad hitting him.
Henry clears his throat before asking you a question to switch topics.
“So.. why’d you move here, with this guy?”
“That, my friend, is a long sad story I’m sure you don’t wanna hear.” You chuckle.
He leans back and props himself on his elbows on your bed. “Humor me.” He stated.
Fuck he was so attractive. This was not a crush you would be beating.
You sigh. Starting the story. “I have no idea where my parents are. They were the worst people ever. I tried to get the law involved multiple times to get out of that house but they didn’t help…” should you be telling Henry this? What if he tells someone else? Fuck. Here goes. “Both my parents abused me. My dad sexually abused me for years. And my mom beat me until I was blue. Eventually they started getting worse. Broken arms with no hospital visit to fix it. A concussion with no help.”
“One day I called Kevin and told him to get me out of there. He said he would book me a plane ticket if I could legally leave and they would not try anything. He didn’t want to get in trouble for harboring a runaway. I took emancipation papers to my mom and she beat the fuck out of me… she broke my phone knowing that was the only way I could talk to Kevin. When she was done she kicked me out. I didn’t have any friends and nowhere to go. So for three weeks I was completely homeless. The day I turned 18 I went back to the house. I took a sheriff with me to throw all my clothes and shit that I bought, with my own money in trash bags and I was allowed to stay at a shelter for a few days while I legitimately packed and got a hold of Kevin. He booked me the ticket and here I am. He told me I could stay here as long as I want.” You played with your hands in your lap and didn’t look at Henry.
You were scared of what he would say. What does he think of you? You finally get the courage to look up and he’s staring at you with these eyes? Confusion? Hurt maybe? You aren’t sure. You take the pressure off him answering and change the topic.
“Does all this mean you’ll be nice to me at school now?” You ask jokingly. You can tell he appreciates the subject change and snorts at the question.
“Fuck no. We aren’t friends. We just live next to each other” he rolls his eyes like that’s such an obvious answer. You belly laugh at it.
As the night goes on you continue to talk. You look at him as he focuses on the tv. You touch his arm and get his attention. He looks back to you and you feel your heart well up.
“If you ever need anything, text me ok?” You give him your phone to put in his number. Without a word he enters the number and sends himself a text. You know he won’t ever text you that he’s hurt or sad. But giving him the option of it makes you feel better.
You look at the clock and see it’s almost midnight, Henry notices and begins to stand.
“You going?”
“Yeah. My dad should be asleep by now.”
“Okay” you gently smile at him. “Make sure you lock the gates on your way out.”
“No need. I'll hop ‘em.”
You glare at him. “You better fucking not! You need to lay off that broken rib”
He rolls his eyes at you. “Fine. Your fucking highness. Bye” and as quickly as he ran across your property. He went.
You shut off the tv and clean your bed off before getting cozy. You knew tomorrow would be ok. You understood that you and Henry had an unspoken understanding of ‘I won’t say anything if you won’t’. And you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t tell anyone about your tattoo. And you wouldn't tell anyone he was in your shed tonight.
You cozy up under the covers with killer, who had unsurprisingly stayed asleep that entire time. It was a pretty good night. But what in the world were you supposed to do with this crush you had on the infamous Henry Bowers?
While you fell asleep Henry walked home. He was right. His dad was passed out. On a throne of beer bottles in the living room. Henry walked to his room and went to his mirror. He dosnt know why… but he takes his shirt off. Once his shirt hits the grounds he takes a look at the bandages you dressed him with on his torso and neck. Then he turns around and looks at his back. He sniffs out a gentle laugh as he sees that On the cigarette burn that was in the middle of his back on the left side, is a little pink Sesame Street band aid. The only “fun” bandage. All the other ones were beige.
All his cuts and bruises are dressed and covered in eithe ointment or a bandage. Even the old bruises that were almost healed has cream on them. He bends down to pick up his shirt and winces at his broken rib. He throws the shirt on his bed and walks to his bathroom to look in the mirror. All the blood from his busted eyebrow had dried and was a bitch to wash off. He dries his face and walks to his room. He locks his door before removing his pants. He down slowly in his bed trying not to irritate hide ribs and back. Clad in only his boxers he thinks about you.
He was fucking awful to you and he knew it. He saw the bruises on your arm and face in his mind and cringed. You were so caring for no reason. There was no reason in the world that he could have given to you to gain your help. But you did. You calmed him. Fed him. And even fixed him up. He dosnt know if you told him that story about your parents because of what he told you or not. He didn’t care though. He liked knowing, he felt like knowing about your past made him special. Though he’d never admit that.
A thought flashed through his mind that made him angry. ‘Maybe i hate her because she’s me, but better?’. That idea confused him. You had gone through abuse your whole life. Just as he had. But you were happy. You were free. You had someone who was willing to take you. He dosn’t find it fair that 2 people can go through the same thing and one can still end up better than the other. How was that possible?
He switches topics in his mind. You let him see you today. He saw your personality, your smile, your tattoo. He liked that at multiple points in the night, that bright smile was directed at him and things he said. Your laughter made his stomach hurt. Maybe he was getting sick? He didn’t say anything. But while you were laying on the bed, he looked at your tattoo arm. He saw a few small scars here and there. He wanted to know the story of every fucking mark. He couldn’t tell any of the others about you. He always kept his fellings private. And right now his curiosity of you was growing and mutating, but he didn’t know into what.
He thought of you and while he slipped into calm dreams. Dreams of your laugh. Dreams of you at the record store. Dreams of just, you
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Hope you enjoyed!
@amber-sekio new chapter!
Ahh this is so good! ❤️
Small WIP from the fairly new 15skk figures (Dazai’s) ☺️
No one ever talks about how frustrating it is trying to erase sketch lines 🥲
Recent re-observations of SB Chuuya's design have spawned the idea of Chuuya being farsighted and his glasses in Storm Bringer actually being prescriptions glasses so he can read all his documents. Have the scenario that @whathorselegs came up with from this what-if sdjfhskdjfh
I haven't seen it so I'm bringing different types of chargers as well as an extension cord or two
And of course my large collection of stuffed animals!
@dannydbeeto @tomatosoupizzie @phenixthechangling @swixtern
WHAT YALL BRINGING?????
@g0od-luck-macabr3-sh0ck-to0 @justa-opossum @etherealjellyfishgirl @xneolivia @radiowave-slushie @pangothepangolin @randomslinky @taco-bee @a-fucking-tornado @escapedcephalopod @halo-king3455 AND MOOT IN LAWS
Thinking of these two panels, but...
You were also with them when Fyodor died and you just so happened to be anemic too. So when Chuuya said those words, you gave him an appalled expression. A hand over your heart as your face morphed into one of shock.
"Chuuya! How dare you! I'm literally right here!"
Chuuya blanked for a second before it dawned, "I meant the other anemic son of a bitch!"
"So what?! Am I anemic son of a bitch #1 or #2?!"
"Why does that matter?!"
"Because I need to know how important I am to you!"
"For fucks sake, fine! Your anemic son of a bitch #1!"
"Am I your anemic son of a bitch #1?!"
"Yes, you're my anemic son of a bitch #1," he said with exasperation. Honestly, the things you make him do and say sometimes.
All the while, Dazai was standing off to the side. A blank look on his face as he wondered how you two ever got together...
Henry Bowers x fem reader
Read chapter 2 here
You were new to the town of Derry. After some traumatic events that went down with your family, an old friend asked you to come to his town. He’d give you a place to rest while you figure things out. This town is strange and seems to be stuck in the past. What happens when you garner the attention of a boy who no one dares piss off?
A/N: this story is set in “modern” times but the town of Derry is more old fashioned. So roller rinks, arcades and record stores are still the places to go. Phones and video games as well as modern tv and music exist; it’s just more common to do “80’s activities”.
Henry’s actor when playing him was 18. so I’m saying the losers club freshman going into sophomore year while the Bowers gang is going into senior year having been 18 from being held back a year. You as a reader have an early birthday meaning you turn 18 a few weeks before school starts. The reader inserted character will be Latina coded and speaks Spanish but is never explicitly stated to be Latina . This is also a no Pennywise AU. If something is not specified in the story please feel free to fill in the gaps.
TRIGGER WARNING: this series may have;
Mention of past sexual assault
Mention of child abuse
Graphic bullying
On page child abuse
Fighting
Recreational drug use
Swearing
Shitty parents
Homophobic comments and actions (from the bowers gang)
Racist comments and actions (from the bowers gang)
This list is subject to change and at any time may be added to or things may be subtracted from.
In the end this story will be a love story but that does not mean it won’t be dark at some points.
the first few chapters will be dedicated to you and your backstory before we even touch the other characters. I made your character extremely real and flawed on purpose, but that does not mean you and Henry won’t eventually happen. Be patient, and enjoy.
Word count: 2,679
Estimated read time: 12
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧
You were currently riding the bus into a small town you had never even heard of. This town was so small and isolated you weren’t sure you’d ever even seen it on a fucking map. Coming from a big town in Texas, this “Derry” place seemed so untouched to you. It was miles of trees, grass planes and old people. You hadn’t seen a major chain food place or clothes store since you entered. Oo scratch that, you just passed a McDonald’s that looks straight from a vintage photo.
This bus was disgusting. Old torn up cloth seats with mysterious stains of no conceivable origin. The man the rows ahead of you and to the left smelt like hookers and cigarettes. The woman on the parallel row to you on the right was out like a light and snoring like an old steam engine. The lights in the bus flickered. giving you a headache. You hoped you were getting off soon. All the sounds, smells, lights, as well as the gross sticky/wet feeling of the seat beneath you was making you feel sick.
It’s overcast today. It smells like rain. You loved that smell. The amazing scent of petrichor in your nostrils always soothed you. It looks as if it just rained. You hoped it will rain again today. That would make a bad day good. Even if just for a few minutes. You don’t know how long you sat on there, eyes closed inhaling the heavenly zephyr of wet air, but it must have been a while; because before you knew it the bus driver called out your stop number. Before slowing to a crawling pace.
As he started to slow the bus you gathered your things. The bus stopped and you made your way to the front. You smiled gently at the old male driver and asked him to help you get your bags out of the compartment on the outside of the bus. He happily stood and assisted you gathering all your bags. 5 to be exact. 2 were big with wheels while the other three were able to be stacked atop the wheely ones.
“You sure you can take all that to where you’re going little miss?” The old driver kindly asked.
“I’m sure. Thanks for the concern, mister. Have a good day.” You waved to the old man. And just like that. You were on your way. Your friend had texted you directions from the bus stop to his work. All you had to do was walk. Given being on what seemed to be the outer part of town, there was a very noticeable lack of sidewalks making your journey just that much harder. 20 minutes later you hit the part of town with sidewalks. No one was really out today. Which made sense. It was just raining. A total of 45 minutes of walking and you were finally at the record store.
You push the door open with a huff. You hear the bell above the door jingle with a direct succession of a man yelling,
“HOLD ON I’M IN THE BACK!”
You giggle, and set your bags to the side of the door so no one will trip over them if they come in. Once all your bags are settled you follow where you heard the voice come from. From the open doorway you see your old friend, Kevin, hunched over a box under a table, rummaging through the contents. You lean against the door frame and knock gently on it. Surprised. Kevin jumps and hits his head on the underside of the table with a loud “OW! FUCK!” Before turning to the culprit of the incident. You.
His eyes widen and he gets up and runs to hug you, you jump up and hug him. Wrapping your legs around him. He doesn't let you go for a long while.
You missed Kevin. You’d known him since you were little (about five years old). He was a good 20 years older than you. The story goes that you met his little brother Issac when their family still lived in Texas. You and Isaac had Been enrolled into the same kindergarten class and were inseparable ever since. You’d become close with Isaac’s family. It was just him, Kevin and their mom. Who you only ever knew as Momma.Momma loved you so much she let you make the spare room in their house yours for when you spent time over there. And given your family life, that was often.
When you were 12 Issac was diagnosed with leukemia.
He died shortly after he was diagnosed. You loved him so much. He was your best friend, and you were so close to Kevin and Momma, they were your family. After Isaac’s death Momma couldn’t take being in a town that reminded her so much of her son. So they moved to a different state. Even though Kevin was 32 at the time he saw you as a little sister and gave you his number so you could keep contact. With a tear filled goodby and one last kiss on the cheek from Momma they left and never came back to visit you. Kevin told you momma died 2 years ago from a brain aneurysm. It broke your heart. But you knew Kevin was suffering more. So as much as you needed to come to Derry, he needed it too. He needed his last bit of family back.
He set you down from the hug and ruffled your hair as tears dripped from your eyes. You missed him far more than words could ever describe.
“Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going away ever again.” He hugged you again this time not lifting you off the ground.
You laughed and punched him in the arm. “You better fuckin not loser, I’ll have’ta hunt you down and kill you”
You both laughed. He motioned out the door and you stepped aside so he could show you around. He’s owned this record store since he moved here. The previous owner was this ancient man who was pretty much giving it away. The building itself was paid off so Kevin never had to pay rent. All the furniture and merchandise from the last owner stayed so Kevin took over the very next day. Business was good. He sold record players, vinyls, cds, guitars and posters. It looked exactly like how your rooms looked in Momma's house. When Kevin told you to come to Derry he offered you a job here so you didn’t have to feel like you were only relying on him for money. He would pay you just above minimum wage and let you use your money on whatever you wanted and he would pay for your food.
You agreed and he sent you a plane ticket from Texas to Derry, then a bus ticket to get into town because the nearest airport was about 3 towns and 5 hours away. Just shows you how redneck this place is.
He looked at your bags and grabbed his keys.
“My truck is outside. Get your bags and toss em’ in the tailgate while I lock up for the day.” He said
“You got it dude.” With a quick salute you picked up the bags and walked outside. It was definitely going to rain again. You walked to the alley next to the shop and saw his beat up old red truck. Thankfully he had a tailgate cover so none of your stuff was gonna get wet. You lugged all the bags in before shutting it. Just on time Kevin came out and told you to “hop in”. You looked out the window the whole 30 minutes from the shop to his house. Occasionally looking at something special when he pointed it out. The school is a 10 minute drive and 30 minute walk to the record store. Maybe if Kev had a spare bike it could be a 20 minute ride. You drive down a dirt road where the homes are few and far between. As if Kevin could hear you wondering, he piped up.
“This is all personal farmland. That’s why there aren’t many people over here.”
You pass a specific house with a police cruiser out front.
“That there is officer Bowers land. I’m not one to tell you what to do, but I’d be smart and stay away from there. That pig is bad news.”
You nod in understanding. If Kevin warned you of anything. He meant it. It started to rain as You finally pulled up to an old gate, and Kevin tossed some keys at you and told you to get out and unlock the gate so he could drive in. Once the truck was in enough you shut the gate and locked it behind you running up to the truck and getting in again. You drove in a little before pulling up and parking in front of a smaller gate just surrounding the house.
“It’s just so no animals get in the house” Kevin grumbled,
He unlocked the tailgate then the house gate and helped you get all your things in the house quickly before shutting and locking his truck and the gate. Once inside you took off your muddy boots and looked around. It was a nice home. Kevin picked up both of your heaviest bags and nodded upstairs for you to follow him with the three smaller bags. He beats you to your room and sets your things down. As you are entering he flops down on your bed. He took care of all your furniture. You have a bed with black and purple bed sheets. 2 dressers in black and a desk with a tv. You walk up to some floor length curtains and open them only to find that you have a small balcony. He left everything else in the room pretty bare with a lot of extra room for you to decorate and make yours, you appreciate it.
He gives a loud, ugly groan that reminds you of growing up. Life is almost exactly how it used to be. With Kevin you picked up where you left off. You take off your coat and flop down on the bed beside him and give that same ugly, over dramatic groan, then you look at each other. You want to cry again. You didn’t think you’d see him again. But a series of unfortunate events led you to a better living situation with a man you loved too much. Your only friend. The almost 38 year old that still acts 19. You think that’s why y’all get along so well. He moves his eyes to your arm. The arm where a tattoo from the back of your shoulder to just above your wrist sits. It is a tattoo of Thorny vines cascading down your flesh. They aren’t big or obnoxious. The reference was a photo you took of you holding real thorn vines onto your arm. Its beautifully realistic and that’s just what you wanted. It would be much easier to hide here than in Texas. You could wear long sleeves because of the colder weather. Whereas in Texas if you wore anything other that a tee shirt you would overheat and die. The last feeling you ever want to experience again is being gross and sweaty in a long sleeve. Feeling the moist fabric against your arms would make you want to cut and peel your own skin off with the dullest rustiest spoon you could find in a prison cell.
“When did you get that?” He points to the tattoo.
“After Momma died. I felt like I needed something for her.” You replied.
“What’s it mean?”
“It means how I saw her. She was beautiful like vines crawling up a building but scary as thorns. I wanted to be just like her. I thought that if I get thorns on me I wouldn’t feel so scared.” You looked up at the ceiling as you spoke.
“I bet you and I are the only people alive to call that fuckin women beautiful” he chuckled.
He was right. Momma was not an objectively attractive woman… well at least not after Kevin was about 2. She had given birth to him when she was like.. 17 or so. She died in her early to mid 50’s. The boy that got her pregnant bailed after he found out, Leaving her alone to raise Kevin. After it got out around town that she was knocked up her parents kicked her out. She was a good student. All A’s with a scholarship to her dream school. She was working at a hotel where the manager was letting her live in one of the rooms, and she finished her last year of high school. A few days into summer that year she gave birth. Only 2 months into having Kevin the hotel fired her because of all the noise complaints of the baby crying. She had nowhere else to go and showed up at her parents' doorstep. She stayed with them for a year after all the begging she did. Near the end of that year she heard her parents talk about taking custody of the baby and she fled. Walking alone in the streets that night with a one year old baby it began to rain. In a panic to keep her baby warm she ran into the nearest building.
A bar.
All eyes were on her. A young girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes holding a baby had just walked into the roughest bar in town. Her makeup was smeared from crying and she was soaked to the bone from trying to keep her baby dry. She walked past all the men and sat down at the bar. The old kind bartender looked at her with wide eyes. Partly because she was wet and looked like she was crying, but mostly because who the fuck brings baby into a bar like this?
She and the bartender had got to talking and he gave her a job and told her she could stay in the room above the bar. He’d help her sound proof it and she would be allowed to keep a baby monitor while she works so she can go up anytime she wants. After a year of working there. Kevin turned 2 and Momma realized she was done looking like her parents' daughter. She shaved her head into a bright purple Mohawk and got tattooed anywhere that was possible. Growing up Kevin got to see his Momma as a rough at tough, tattoo having, fight winning, bar maid, who took no one’s shit. She had more muscles than most men at that bar did. And she worked there for as long as she could. Including All throughout her pregnancy with Issac and all the way up until they moved. They eventually moved out of that above bar room when Kevin was about 12. But that’s pretty much the story.
Momma was a wild woman who was tough as nails and scarier than any man. You’d never seen any other woman who looked as wild as her and you loved it. No one could beat Momma. Not even after she died.
You and Kev would always only see that woman as beautiful and tough. And no matter how unconventional their upbringing was. They all agreed that theirs was perfect compared to yours.
While you were deep in thought Kev stood up from the bed. He said your name shaking you from your thoughts.
“Immm booreddd.” He whined. “How about we order some pizza and watch some nasty ass gore movie while we talk about which characters we’d smash?”
You smiled so big your eyes squinted.
“UHH FUCK YEAH DUDE!!” You yelled and jumped up from the bed. You’d unpack and explore the town tomorrow. It was only Friday night. Why not relax with your best friend in the world? Forget about your parents, forget about school, forget about being the new kid. Who the fuck cares? Not you. Especially not when you were about to slam down a whole pizza.
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Thank you for reading. Please tell me if you liked it!
Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs
I've created another bsd au from my problem of procrastinating school work
Doesn't help that I have a substitute right now
It's fine, I'll do it as homework
Anyways, the Au came into my head from someone's fanart of Dazai with apples and then my brain spiraled
This was the fanart piece
It's literally so pretty
Respectfully, I want to eat the art
Ages ago I went to a flying tiger and saw these..... and I was like "the universe is giving me a skk sign"