#abigail oc

[endofradio]

MEET THE OC: ANDREW HAIN

“walls have ears. doors have eyes. trees have voices. beasts tell lies. beware the rain. beware the snow. beware the man you think you know.”

ABIGAIL OC • INTJ • HE/HIM • 36 Y/O • 5’10” • FC: HUGH DANCY

Andrew was always a bit of a mysterious person, carrying a troubled past with him. He was born an only child in a particularly shitty neighborhood in New York, with two alcoholic drug addicts for parents. Growing up, he would always witness them fighting, and as he got older, Andrew had to sort of be his own parent.

After graduating high school (which he excelled at academically), Andrew decided that he wanted to work in law enforcement, perhaps influenced by his tough upbringing. He went to college to obtain a degree in criminal justice, and then went ahead to enroll in a police academy. When he joined the ranks of the NYPD, Andrew quickly earned the respect of his colleagues for his high intelligence. Thanks to his stoic, monotonous demeanor, he was perceived as an intimidating figure, but… he was actually a good person.

Well, until he befriended Adam Barrett.

The two of them got to know each other while working as vice detectives, with Adam being what Andrew would consider his only friend. It was the same for Adam — Andrew was his only friend, at least the only person that Adam considered a friend. One could say that Andrew wasn’t the same person after becoming friends with him.

When Andrew and Adam started getting to know each other, Andrew took notice of the fact that he was definitely more of a morally ambiguous kind of person. When the two of them were working with each other during investigations, Andrew found his behavior intriguing. When dealing with criminals, Adam seemed to be fascinated by them just like Andrew, but in a… darker sense. When the pair were working undercover, Adam didn’t hesitate to dabble in a little criminal behavior himself. Eventually, it got to the point where he’d offer to let criminals go if they gave him a little something in return. It seemed like each day, Adam’s behavior grew increasingly questionable, and his morals became more corrupt. The more time the two spent dealing with criminals, the more Adam realized that he found lawfulness boring. He started to grow unsatisfied with working as a detective, finding himself sympathizing more with the people he was supposed to be arresting.

Understandably, Andrew became concerned. He had decided to join law enforcement with the intention of protecting people, not whatever the hell Adam had going on in his mind. It became more and more apparent that he was only in it for the power, not keeping the streets of New York clean.

When Adam wasn’t working as a detective, he was a part-time criminal himself, something that Andrew didn’t find out until the two of them were given the task to investigate Lazar. Now that he had Andrew as a friend, Adam saw the opportunity to try and persuade him to switch sides. He was a smart man, able to see right through Andrew. In a sense, he knew the man better than Andrew knew himself.

Investigating Lazar seemed to open some kind of metaphorical Pandora’s box, and Andrew wasn’t the same after that. The both of them became associated with him somehow, and it seemed to complicate their friendship. He took an interest in Adam’s interactions with a new inmate — Sylvia Halford. Sylvia had been on Lazar’s radar due to her history with a particular associate of his, Charlie, and it seemed that Adam was getting a little too friendly with her. Whatever was going on, Andrew took note of it. Even after Sylvia left the jail, Adam would talk to him about her in a rather “fond” way, and it had Andrew wondering…

Not long later, the pair abandoned their lives as detectives in New York, moving to Massachusetts and deciding to fully immerse themselves in the criminal world. Andrew in particular became involved with drugs and violence, ending up as a hitman. One night, he decided to snitch on Adam to Lazar about his little “crush” on Sylvia, and after that… well, Andrew and Adam quit being friends. Andrew didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, and it seemed the same for Adam. The times they did see each other, it was, well… awkward. Perhaps Adam just got tired of Andrew.

Fast forward to a while later, and Andrew had decided to try and start his life all over. He didn’t want anything to do with Lazar’s criminal underworld anymore, but it was clear that his former life had left its mark on him. Now, he was lonely, drinking and doing drugs… just like his parents. Little did he know that Adam — now Frank — and Sylvia had ended up in a kidnapping mission, and it turned out that Sylvia had been dragged into it not only because of her connection to Lazar, but also Frank. Andrew’s words had come back to bite him in the ass… and that was how he and Frank crossed paths again.

Upon returning to his apartment after the whole mess to nurse Sylvia back to health, Frank called Andrew on the phone, clearly pissed off. He didn’t care that Frank was angry at him. In fact, he had been expecting it. A few days later, Andrew encountered Sylvia while she was hanging out at a park. After learning that she had been staying with Frank for the past few days, Andrew had an idea. Perhaps he and Frank could try and make amends, maybe even become friends again. And so, at Andrew’s request, Sylvia brought him back to Frank’s apartment. Surprisingly, Frank didn’t seem to be enraged with Andrew anymore. The two of them ended up reconnecting, which would prove to be a very bad idea.

And so, it was back to old times, the two of them returning to being the fucked-up duo that they had once been.

[actually-adambarrett]

《Author's note: It’s been a while since I wrote so my bad if it’s shitty. I will be referring to Dean as Dominic/Dom since this takes place before the night of Dean's death.》

《TW:Underage smoking and drinking, cursing, breaking the law, mentions of child abuse. 》

Every day was the same for Maylyn and Dominic. Smoking, drinking, laughing, getting into trouble, and repeat. It wasn’t the best lifestyle but neither of them complained. It was their life, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted.

It was 2:37 in the morning, Dom was driving down the dark streets in Boston, New York. May was in the passenger seat with a cigarette between his middle and pointer finger. The windows were down and 2Pac - Hit ‘Em Up could be heard from a mile away.

“You know you’re five miles over the speed limit.” May informed Dom with a small teasing smile tugging at his lips.

“We’ve done way worse than going over the speed limit, little man.” Dom replied, speeding up a little more. May shook his head with a grin as he turned the radio down a few notches. May flung his cigarette butt out the window as they pulled into a small grass patch next to an abandoned metal garage. The garage was like their second home, their safe spot, whatever they thought it was, but it was theirs.

“I still remember the first time you got me high here.” May said as the two of them entered the garage. The metal walls were spray painted with bright colors, dicks, and random quotes.

Dom chuckled and sat down on a half broken picnic table in the center of the garage. “I can’t believe that was almost three fucking years ago.” He said patting the open spot next to him.

May ran a hand through his white and black hair as he took a seat next to Dom. “I love you, man.” May sighed as he rested his head on Dominic's shoulder. Dom wrapped his arm around him in return.

Dom was like a big brother to May. They’re the only people who really understand each other. Dom was May's savior. That's the way May thinks of it. Whenever May would have to deal with his abusive and asshole parents, he would always escape to Dom. Dom made him feel cherished and actually cared for. Despite the fact that he introduced May to drugs and alcohol, Dominic was the best and coolest person he knew well; he was the only person he really did know.

[kolcheksluver]

Who up thinking about Marley and Frank and how she purposely went far away from home to get away from the constant reminders of her father just to see him at her job

[rainkays]

lottie/sylvie headcanons 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

THE BFFS OF ALL TIME !!!!

-lottie taught sylvie how to play pool

- sit next to each other anytime the group plays card games to cheat and swap cards (everyone has caught on except peter)

-they both love finding old vinyls and gifting them to each other <3

-unionize against frank and peter anytime they’re together and sammy thinks it’s fucking hilarious

-whenever they get drunk together they will never fail to recreate their favorite movie scenes from memory or give the gang a live performance with the nearest karaoke machine they can get their hands on

- so silly together & always play fighting/pushing each other around

-lottie has a piercing gun and pierced sylvies ears one night during an extremely boring mission (and then peter’s after)

-lottie lovesssss to embarrass sylvie about frank and will frequently make kissing noises anytime they’re in a room together & frank tells her to fuck off

-accidentally coordinate outfits + sylvie shops out of lottie’s closet whenever they need an all black outfit for a job

-sylvie gets shotgun whenever lottie drives (much to peter and sammy’s disapproval)

-both know each other’s coffee orders by heart

-sylvie makes breakfast for lottie after a night out when she’s severely hung over

-watch shitty old horror movies together and laugh about how dumb the characters are

ugh i love them so bad

[dyokens]

Okay okay okay what if...smt iv apocalypse, but sesha is Abigail instead of Flynn?

[galaxicalsart]

Abigail, a shapeshifter and member of Jacinta’s (and later, Diel’s) pirate crew—she can shift into a narwhal and an Andalusian horse :3

Featured character: Abigail (she/her)

(Please don’t repost, but do reblog!)

@emmettnet

[endofradio]

gets arrested. bangs the guy who arrested her. gets turned into a vampire by the same guy.

EVERYONE QUICK describe your oc story in the worst way possible

[kaikonn]

POV: You got 8 hearts with all the bachelors/bachelorettes, so everyone kinda flirts with you

[kororobus]

hmm, I think I should keep an art page here too, although this site is completely new to me (oﾟvﾟ)ノ let's start with my recent fanart of a wonderful slime charmer!

[peeweekey]

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

[dyokens]

OMG !!! They look so adorable 😍 thank u so much! I'm being trough a hard moment rn but this managed to place a smile on my face thank you 🫂

HELLOOOOOO:333333333

GIFT FOR @dyokens BC I LOVE HER SMT IV OC, ABIGAIL!!! SHE'S SO CUTE!!!!!!:DDDDDDD

Étienne urgently needs a rest, Abigail's just :D

I find it funny that Abigail is shipped with the Chaos Hero (Walter aka HOI) and Étienne with the Law Hero (Jonathan), although Étienne ends up hating Jonathan in Apocalypse heehehehjehehehheheehehehejejurirju

[endofradio]

big things coming 🙏🙏🙏 (i sound like a band announcing some kind of project 💀💀💀)

[actually-adambarrett]

《Authors note: This kind of sucks ass but i HAD to write for these two. Go check out @kolcheksluver oc, Marliene Barrett, because she's so cool. 》

《TW: Mentions of being high, a homophobic slur is used once. Mild cursing. 》

The faint sound of Adam and Ana chatting off to the side, the soft sound of water flowing, and the two late adolescents playfully arguing in the lake. The scene was quite enjoyable.

“I wanted to be the blue mermaid. You can be the pink one!” May spoke as he crossed his arms, a stern expression on his face.

“NO. I called it first!”

“Blue represents males, while pink represents females. Therefore, you should be the pink mermaid.”

“So you're fucking sexist now!?”

Before May could argue back, a strict and gruff voice interrupted them. “Enough. You two are acting like like fuckin’ children.”

Marley glared at her Dad before shifting her gaze back to May, who was already looking at her with a teasing and playful gaze.

“What?” Marley raised an eyebrow.

May leaned in closer to Marley so he could whisper into her ear. “I'm the better mermaid.”

Marley's lips formed into a small smirk before she gripped May's shoulders and slammed him into the water, causing a loud smack. May peek his head up from under the water with a small gasp for breath.

“Marley, stop trying to drown May.” Adam said with a frustrated sigh. “I don't know where we would hide the body.” He added, his tone dripping with sarcasm. A small punch was inflicted to his arm by Ana, followed by a muffled curse.

Marley rolled her eyes at the sarcastic comment her father made and let go of May's shoulders. May stood up and flicked Marley on the nose before exiting the lake.

She rubbed her nose and watched as May began to dry off. “Did I scare you out of the water?” She asked teasingly.

May shook his head with a scoff before replying. “The water is chilly. How the hell are you not cold?”

Marley shrugged as she stepped out of the water as well. “Pussy.” She says picking up the towel hanging off the tree branch next to her.

Maylyn slipped his shirt back on and ran a hand through his hair. “You eat pussy I don't wanna hear it, Marliene.” He replied in a joking tone.

Ana and Adam exchanged shocked glances before looking back at May and Marley, observing their bickering.

Marley stepped closer and pocked May in his chest with a grin. “Oh okay,you wanna talk about that one time you had someone's dick in your mouth!?”

“I was high. It was a simple mistake!” May defended, raising his hands in the air. She poked his chest rhythmically as she mouthed the word ‘faggot’ to him.

Adam stood up off the log he was sitting in and grabbed Marley's hand, pulling it away from Mays chest. “To the car you go, I don't wanna hear you and May's sexuality bullshit.”

Ana let out an annoyed groan as she got up to follow Adam and Marley to the car. May walked beside her and put his hands in the pockets of his damp shorts. “Your boyfriend is a homophobic bitch.”

She let out a playful scoff and patted Mays back softly. “Shh, just go in the car.” She replied, signaling him to the car.

May jogged to the car and jumped in through the open window, not bothering to open the door.

“Maylyn.” Adam warned as he entered the passenger seat. The other two got in the car, Marley beside May in the back seats, and Ana was in charge of driving.

Ana started the car, followed by Marley leaning towards the front seats to flick on the radio. May stared out the window, the sky a light shade of pink and the clouds almost invisible. The view of the sky was peaceful. Everything was calm and nice. May's body slowly fell into a relaxed and happy state as the car drove off.

[kolcheksluver]

MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER — A ONE SHOT.

characters mentioned: Marliene Barrett, Adam Barrett.

overview: Three years later she was sixteen with the same temper.

No matter how much shit she stored away, no matter how much she ran, this city would forever be a constant reminder that she always has been, and always will be, her father’s daughter.

warnings: Mentions of self hatred but thats. It.

words: 595, pretty short sorry.

Writing under the cut. Hey alexa play A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain.

Mirrors were things Marliene typically avoided unless she absolutely had to, like when she had to go to the bathroom, brush her teeth, do her make up, all the mundane shit. But if she had to, she’d avoid them. Cover them all, turn them all around. Smash them, but that was too much to clean up. And she’d probably cut her hands up and she didn’t feel like having to explain to her mother why her hands were bleeding. Not that it was anything new, her hands bleeding that is.

She’s been in her fair share of fights. Some she’s won, others she’s lost. Her mother always chastised her for it on the way home and when she was wrapping her hands.

“You’re going to get suspended one of these days, Marley,” her lips formed a thin line. Stop calling me that, she wanted to say bitterly. “Or expelled, even!” I know mom, she thought as she bit the inside of her cheek. “The next school isn’t close by, Marley.” Stop. Stop fucking calling me that. That’s not my name. Why does nobody fucking listen to me, ever?

Marley’s knuckles were scarred and bruised but they worked just fine. She could close it properly. And it didn’t hurt.

Despite consistently avoiding them, she found herself staring at the mirror in her room. She was, in no way, vain. She actually hated herself. Her reflection, how she talked, the way she dressed, everything. She loved her style but she never really felt like herself. All she saw when she looked in the mirror was her father.

The man she hated most.

The man who walked out on her and her mother, the man she hadn’t seen since she was thirteen.

And yet he was the same man who she got compared to the most. And she hated it. She hated it because they were right, and she didn’t want them to be right. When she was a kid and wasn’t speaking to anyone she’d sometimes hear his voice in the back of her mind, like some fucked up manifestation of a guilty conscience. But as time went on the voice grew quiet.

She had forgotten his voice.

But not his face.

Marliene would sometimes pass his former colleagues on the street when they were patrolling, and she’d ignore their attempts to talk to her. She’d keep her head down and walk fast. She wondered what they thought happened to him. Was he dead? Just up and left town? Part of her wanted to know. Part of her didn’t.

Adam Barrett was dead was what she’d tell people.

Why did she have to look so much like him? Why did she have to forget his voice but not his face? Why did he leave? Why didn’t he stay? Did she do something? What had she done wrong? What could she have done that made her dad leave?

All of these questions she’d never have the answer to. Marliene acted like him, too. He was a good dad, and a good husband, but even she noticed the insatiable temper of his. When her parents fought, they fought. Sometimes she would haul up in her room and cover her ears until they stopped. Sometimes she would sneak out of the apartment to a friend’s downstairs. Three years later she was sixteen with the same temper.

No matter how much shit she stored away, no matter how much she ran, this city would forever be a constant reminder that she always has been, and always will be, her father’s daughter.

[rainkays]

QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR ABIGAIL OC — LOTTIE!

does she prefer reading or writing? what is her favorite food & drink? does she have any habits? when is her birthday? is she an inspired oc?/is she inspired by anyone/anything? what does she do in her free time? does she prefer indoors or outdoors? is she more street smart or book smart?

—feel free to answer only the questions you want to answer, you don't have to answer all of them if you don't want to! 💕💕

-reading! english was her favorite subject in high school <3

-she loves any kind of italian food, and will never pass up the opportunity to have a well made whiskey sour

-she started smoking in high school after she lost her parents, and also collects rings that she trades with sammy sometimes !!

- her birthday is july 5th! she’s a cancer <3

- yes! i took a lot of inspo for her character from lily sullivan’s performance in evil dead rise + ginger fitzgerald/jennifer check vibes for her transformation as a vampire!

- she’s an early riser & you can almost always find her training/working out with joey on the week days. on weekends, she’ll most likely be settled in the corner of a dive bar, throwing back shots with peter.

- outdoors! she grew up in washington, and went camping a lot, and loves to go on hikes whenever she has the time

- both, but leans more toward street smart because she had to teach herself a lot of basic common sense growing up since she had no one else to do it for her

i love talking about my girl so pls feel free to drop more questions <33