#short hair adelaide jump scare

[sumbsdrawingblog]

[saharamae21]

Vapor (Part 6)

Hey guys! Part Six and I’ve only gotten to episode 2 of the show. This one book might be a long one! Loving the feedback, would love even more! Thanks for being so supportive everyone!

WARNING: THIS FANFIC MIGHT CONTAIN CONTENT THAT CAN BE TRIGGERING TO SOME Mentions of child abductions and murder

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I sat in the back of the van, taking huge hits of JJ’s joint. It hit so much harder than the weed I had. I leaned my head back and felt my high consume me. This was exactly what I needed after the fiasco I had just witnessed. I laid my head down on JJ’s shoulder and handed him back the joint. He finished it off and threw the remains out the window. I could feel his hot breath on my hair as he whispered to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I could feel him playing with my hair. I glanced up to see his beautiful face. His ocean blue eyes were dilated and stared down at me. I was so high, I couldn’t control where my thoughts went.

“Mhm,” I said. I answered his question, but my mind was already drifting elsewhere. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take over. I thought about JJ. I thought about his lips on mine. I couldn’t control them. My eyes shot open at the realization that I was crushing on JJ once again.

“Adelaide,” he said, worried. I turned to look at him and my eyes met his. He was so close to my face that my heart began beating out of my chest. I sat up and caught my breath. He reached out for me, but I stopped him.

“I’m fine,” I said. I felt the van stop moving and forced myself out. JJ never left my side which made it really hard to ignore my feelings right now. I watched as John B pointed at JJ and told him that he was going to post up and look for bogeys. JJ instantly protested asking why he had to do it. I smiled as Pope stepped in.

“Look JJ,” Pope started. “There are independent and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable.” I chuckled as JJ genuinely got upset. He looked at the boy and told him to shut up. He argued back and forth for a second.

“We don’t know what you’ll do,” Pope finished. JJ was telling the boy to shut up and pointing at him. I placed my hand on his chest and he calmed down. I heard JB speak up.

“Listen to me for a second,” he said. “Addie, stay with him. Pope, you stand look out with JJ, okay? If we split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.”

And with that Kie and JB were gone. It was just JJ, Pope, and I. I sat down in the van and pulled out my vape. I hit it hard, exhaling as my eyes closed. Then I decided to address the elephant in the room. I asked them what we were doing here and what was so important. Pope looked at JJ as if he was ready to lie, but JJ sat down next to me and explained everything, beginning to end. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I laid back and took another hit, trying to process everything that was going on. I felt JJ leave my side and go out to play hacky sack with Pope for a little bit. It was a very short game though. Within minutes, we could hear police sirens echoing through the trees. I looked out the window to see a blue and white police SUV speeding down towards us. The two boys ran towards the van and hopped in, JJ taking the driver seat. We sped away quickly, remembering to meet them back at JJ’s house.

We dropped the van off at chateau and I drove the guys back over to JJ’s. I contemplated heading out, but I honestly was curious to where this would go. I wanted to continue this journey with them. I got out at the house and looked around. There was no sign of Luke anywhere. Still, JJ would not enter the house. I let out a sigh and watched as he lit up a joint. As much as I had a problem with guns, he had a problem with being home.

We just chilled in the backyard until John B drove up. He looked like he had been through hell, but didn’t seem to want to talk about it. JJ sat in the passenger seat, leaving Pope and I in the back. I was a little disappointed in all honesty, but maybe some space between JJ and I was for the better. When we got to The Wreck, Pope hopped out and went in to get Kie, who informed him she wasn’t coming. We all looked at JB and waited for him to tell us why, but instead he just got out and said he'd handle it. He wasn’t in there super long. Then we walked Kie with John shortly behind her. I was hoping she would climb in the back with me. I was hoping we could have a quiet girl talk. However, she kicked JJ into the back and took the passenger seat.

The sun had set and we still weren’t at our destination. JJ was already asking to lay low for this one and I truly wanted the same thing. I felt myself yawn as the drive began to put me to sleep. I felt JJ shift to give me some more room and pulled me into his chest. I felt both his arms tighten around me as I cuddled into his chest. I was too tired to fight him. I drifted off a bit, staying the slightest bit awake.

When the car stopped, I could faintly hear voices whispering around me. I tried to focus on them, but my overwhelming drowsiness made it hard.

“When have you ever seen JJ so whipped by a girl?”

“That’s not just any girl, that's Addie.”

“She’s right, it’s always been A.”

I felt a hand shake me and my head shot up. My eye twitched as I realized that we had stopped. My movement woke JJ as well who sat up quickly. He mumbled a curse word and we got out. My blood ran cold as I realized we were at a cemetery. John looked at me and told me I could wait in the van if I wanted too. I shook my head. I was going to be more afraid if I waited here alone. I hugged myself and walked with them to this huge mausoleum. I watched as the boys tried to move the stone that blocked the entrance. I screamed as a huge snake slithered out. JJ started to bark at it causing me to jump into the nearest set of arms. I felt John B awkward pat my back as Kie yelled at JJ to stop. I moved away from him and JJ grabbed me and pulled me towards him almost in a jealous manner. It made my flutter as he looked at me and apologized for scaring me. I bit my lip and nodded. JJ went to go help Kie get into the tomb and I let myself relax for a little bit. Nothing they were doing could shift my attention away from my budding feelings for JJ.

Just when I was deep into the contemplation of acting on my feelings or not, lights shined our way. Then there was shouting. Kie was out of the mausoleum and we all took off running towards the van. We got to the gate and I began to climb. I jumped down on the other side and got into the van, panting hard. Why were we always getting chased? I moved to the back of the van and sat next to the window. JJ sat by me and stared. I didn’t look though. I was overwhelmed by everything.

I didn’t speak the whole way back. I just sat and stared out the window. I realized my car was still at JJ’s so I asked JB if I could crash at the Chateau. JJ told me to take the spare bedroom and I nodded. I laid down and the sheets smelled like him. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.I couldn’t though. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that man. Finally, I slipped long enough for a dream to come through.

I was walking around the park. He was so nice, almost like my dad. He told me about his cute beagle. His name was Lucky and with my help he knew we could find him. I told him that JJ was really good at finding things. I told him a dog would really make JJ happy. I told him how JJ was lonely. Then he knelt down in front of me. He caressed my face like my daddy always did. He told how insightful I was and how beautiful I was. I smiled proudly as he praised me. He held my hand as we walked to the parking lot. He told me to hold out my hands and he would give me the toy. I held them out and he tied the leash around me. I screamed for JJ. I couldn’t see the playground, but maybe he could hear me.

I remember when he took me out of the trunk. I remember his house being across from a cemetery. I remember him telling me that there were a bunch of kids across the street and maybe I could play with them really soon. Julie. Scott. Lauren. 

I woke up screaming. JJ was by my side as I panicked. I had never remembered that line. I had never remembered him saying those words to me. There were more victims than the ones in the trunk. I felt JJ’s hands cupping my cheeks as I muttered out gibberish. He was patient with me.

When I finally calmed down, JJ laid with me. He pulled me into his chest, just like when we were kids. The smell of weed and mint filled my lungs with every inhale. I knew falling for him was inevitable at this point, I was in too deep. I was so infatuated by him that I didn’t even remember Topper existed. He held me tightly and played with my hair, trying to do anything to get me to relax. I buried my face into his neck and just cuddled into him. As I was feeling myself become tired, I asked the question I’ve been dying to hear the answer to.

“Why did you not want to be my friend anymore?” I asked. He placed his lips against my forehead and gave me the easy answer.

“I don’t know, A.” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s more, JJ,” I mumbled. My voice was strained as I forced the words out. Their names haunted me now. “There’s more dead kids.”

A/N: Do you guys like this? Is the plot boring or is there something that doesn’t sit right? I’m trying to incorporate my own story into the one that already exists and don’t know if it’s working or now.... Let me know please!

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Tag List : @jjmaybangme @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @obxmxybxnk @waywardbarbie @talksoprettyjjx @obbx-tings @agirlwholovescoffee @thoughtsofthestars @outerbankslut @potterheadhollander @baby-pogue @lindzaylove @obxlife @queenofthebees003 @rockyyc77 @beth-winchester21 @outerbongs @sunwardsss @ilovejjmaybank @thesurfingsnail @animetiddi3s

[nightwingshero]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAIGE

Happy birthday, hun!!! @joeyhxdson and I collaborated to bring you an awesome birthday gift! Em, you did fantastic as always!!! Such a beautiful background and you captured the girls beautifully!!!

Thank you @xbaebsae​ and @returnofthepd3​ for allowing me to include your lovely deps!!!!

I wrote a fic to go along with it, since I can’t be there to party with you, Em and I decided that it was important that our deps threw something together for Veronica. You’re a total sweetheart and my best friend. We love you and I hope you have an awesome 21st birthday!!! 💖💖💖💖

“Happy birthday, asshole.” Wren said with a smirk as she elbowed Veronica. She rolled her eyes at her best friend, swatting her on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, thanks.” Veronica replied sarcastically.

Wren hummed, taking a sip of her beer as she watched Mary May walk back to some other customers on the other side of the bar. “Any big plans?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Veronica fought the urge to sigh. Chances were that she would just go to her mom’s and hang out for a bit. She knew she would whip up a cake, despite her mom trying hard to keep it a secret. It wasn’t exactly a secret when she did it every year, but it warmed her heart at the thought behind it. “Maybe go see my mom, then rent a movie to watch with Olive.”

“Lame.” Wren threw her head back and groaned. Veronica shot her a look.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, you love my mom.”

“Yeah, but that means you’re getting cake without me. Also, why not throw a party?”

Veronica hesitated before pressing her own bottle to her lips and taking a drink. It wasn’t that Veronica hadn’t thought about it, it was just that…well, she didn’t really know what to do or who to even invite. She stopped having birthday parties after her dad left, and it wasn’t like she ever felt the need to start that back up again. But each year, as she contemplated, she would end up just doing the same damn thing.

It was the first birthday she was celebrating since Wren became her partner at the Sherriff’s Department. Wren was a bit older than her, by only a few years, and Veronica was worried at first that it would make a difference. But it really hadn’t. They became fast friends and had each other’s back. Wren was the voice of reason when Ronnie needed it and Ronnie always had a way of helping Wren loosen up a bit when it was called for.

Placing her bottle on the bar, she glanced at Wren. “I don’t know, I guess I just never get around to it.”

Wren threw her a look, her hair shifting and showing off her new blue flannel. “Says the person who makes sure that every single one of us is here on St. Patrick’s Day. You know how to throw a party.”

“I’m okay with drinking with my best friend.” Veronica turned away, fidgeting with her jean vest. “I got some new stuff from Sharky to smoke later, so I’m good.”

Glancing at her phone, Wren hopped off the barstool. “Hey, I have this really cool idea. Come on!”

“We’ve been drinking, Wren. Where the hell should we be going?” Veronica snorted and she knew she wasn’t wrong. They had been here as soon as Spread Eagle opened, Whitehorse being kind enough to give them the day to enjoy Ronnie’s day. To say they had a few would be an understatement, but Wren threw a mischievous look over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me that Veronica Rook is scared?”

With a huff, Ronnie followed suit, calling to Mary May to keep their tab open. The brunette gave a triumphant smile and Veronica rolled her eyes. Stepping outside, she frowned as she watched Sharky jump out of his jeep, with a weird trailer hooked to the back of it, the loud barking almost making Veronica flinch. What the fuck was going on?

“Hey there, Shorty!” Sharky waved at her before adjusting his cap and turning to Wren. “It’s all ready. Whenever you are.”

“And he’s still at the station?” Wren asked, throwing him a worried glance.

“Well, that’s what Hurk said.”

Relief washed over her partner’s face. “Good. That’s good.”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on here?” Veronica finally cut in, causing Wren and Sharky to exchange glances. Wren shrugged, throwing Veronica a smirk.

“You remember when we had to arrest Zip at the farm a while back? And we had to run after him?”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. Of course she did. It hadn’t been that long ago, about three weeks if she had to guess. Her and Wren both had to chase the guy down, not only was he causing issues for the farmers, but he had a few counts of slander against him. John Seed, Grace Armstrong, and Adelaide Drubman being a few of his victims in that damn magazine he wrote.

He had taken one look at them before he had dropped his protesting sign and ran, jumping a fence and flinging mud as he went. They were right on his heels, trying their best to herd him in the pasture they were in, but they were almost certain he was on something. He had been seen hanging around Tweak the last few months, so it wouldn’t have been too shocking, and they later found out that they were right. But it was bringing him in that made Veronica cringe, because all three of them ended up in the mud, both deputies trying the best they could to keep the man down, and still, long enough to cuff him.

Veronica would’ve paid serious money for COPS to have been there to film it.

Or at least, that’s what she originally had thought. While her partner seethed in the driver’s seat on their way back to the station, Veronica couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. And she told her partner as such, adding that there was never a dull moment in Hope County, in which she received a withering glare from Wren in return. She had only shrugged. It wasn’t until they got to the station that her mood took a dark turn, with John Seed’s stupid smug face. She could still hear his damn taunting. It took damn near a week to remove all the mud from her hair.

“What about it?” Veronica asked, not pleased at the reminder of the incident.

Wren’s smirk twisted more, and Veronica immediately recognized the dark mischief in her eyes. “Are you ready for vengeance, my friend?”

Taking a step forward with her hands on her hips, Veronica narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Get in and you’ll find out.”

The brunette turned, taking the keys Sharky offered up, and hoped in behind the wheel. Veronica grumbled, wanting to go back into the bar for another round. She wanted to celebrate her birthday, not do…whatever the hell these two had in mind. And once she was buckled and ready to go, she turned to her best friend.

“Dude, seriously, what are we doing?”

“We’re going to break into John’s ranch and leave him a present.” She replied, finally, and Veronica’s eyes widened.

“We’re what?!” she gasped, both from shock and excitement. But being the cop that she was, Veronica felt the apprehension set in. “You know that’s illegal, right? What if we get caught?”

“Is it so illegal if I have these?” Wren fished a set of keys out of her pocket, dangling them in front of Veronica’s face. “Besides, didn’t you just say that you bought a little something from Sharky to smoke later?”

“That’s different!” It wasn’t. Not really, but Veronica was focused on the set of house keys that hung delicately from Wren’s pointer finger. “How the hell did you get John’s house keys?”

“It’s not at all different!” She snatched the keys back with a wicked grin. “And a lady never reveals her secrets.”

“Bold of you to call yourself a lady, Wren.”

“I’ve been called worse.” She teased, starting the car and putting it in gear. “Besides, if you stopped staring at John’s ass, you would catch on to the things that go on around you.”

Ronnie threw her head back and laughed as the wind gently played with her hair as Wren drove. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I can multitask.” Wren smirked with a shrug and Veronica laughed harder.

The rest of the drive was in comfortable silence, Veronica giving up trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Wren wouldn’t say a damn word, and Ronnie knew it. Part of her was okay with allowing it to be a surprise, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. The idea that they were getting revenge was sweet enough. She couldn’t wait to see his damn face when they…well, when they did whatever they were going to do.

Ronnie didn’t know what to expect when they got to the ranch but being completely empty wasn’t it. Wren pulled off to the side, putting the Jeep in park and looking over. “Okay, I’m gonna jump out and guide you. You think you can back this thing up to the door?”

“Wren…” Ronnie started, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Just back it up! You’ll be fine!” Wren gave a bright smile and jumped out. Veronica huffed, climbing over, and adjusting the seat before shutting the door so she could use her mirror. With Wren’s guidance, she began to align and back the trailer up slowly to the double doors of John’s ranch. Finally, with Wren giving her the signal, Veronica stopped and put the car in park and shut if off.

She found Wren already unlocking the doors to the house as the barking continued. “You gonna fill me in now?”

“You know how John is a dog person?”

Veronica threw Wren a look as if she were insane. “No, he hates dogs. Him and Jacob were giving each other shit over some of the wolves that Jake was training at the F.A.N.G Center.”

“Exactly.” Wren breathed out, pushing the doors open, lining them up with the trailer as makeshift borders. “He loves them so much, we’re gonna leave him some.”

It was like her brain short-circuited. Ronnie could’ve sworn that she had heard Wren wrong, and she was trying to put it together. “You…holy shit!” she breathed out as a wide smile made its way across her face, her hands running through her hair as it all came together. “Oh my god, he’s going to be so pissed! Where did you get all the dogs?”

“Yeah, about that.” Wren looked sheepish. “They have some domesticated wolves up at the Center, the same ones that Jake was training and working with. They’re from that guy that had that illegal zoo, I think? Well, some of them got transferred here since they had the room. I called in a favor, and well…”

“Wolves. We’re going to put wolves in John Seed’s house?”

“Muddy wolves.” Wren corrected. “It rained, and the owners let them run along and play in the mud. Just for the occasion.”

“Remind me to never fuck with you.” Veronica laughed. “You wrathful ass.”

Her best friend scoffed as she approached the trailer. “Oh, like you’re any better.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should get matching wrath tattoos.”

“I suffer from more than just the one sin, Ronnie.” Wren laughed. “Alright, I’m gonna open this quick, and jump to the side. Make sure to keep the door steady, we don’t want any to get away. They’ll have my ass.”

“I gotcha.”

Ronnie grabbed a hold of John’s door, holding it in place as Wren unlocked the metal door. She was fast, opening the trailer door and getting out of the way. And it was a good thing, too. Wolves, as Ronnie learned, were hyper. They darted out, at least five of them, and into John’s ranch and they were caked in mud.

“Close the doors!”

Before the wolves had a chance to turn back around, they slammed the doors shut, Wren locking it quickly.

“Holy shit, I wish I had their energy.”

“They’re young.” Wren replied with a heavy exhale before throwing Ronnie a bright smile, her hands resting on her hips. She gave the front doors another thoughtful glance. “Still technically pups, I think.”

“Wren, puppies chew on things.”

“Hmm, yeah?” She twisted on her heel, finally facing Veronica with a curious look on her face.

Veronica gave a light scoff. “I’m pretty sure there are some things in there that they’re gonna chew on. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think John is gonna like that too much.”

Wren tensed, a crease forming in her brow as Ronnie’s words processed. Veronica bit her lip to try and hold back her laughter. She couldn’t believe it. Wren clicked her tongue, glaring at the ground with a sour look on her face, making Veronica lose it.

“Oh my fucking god! Of all the times you gave me shit for not thinking things through—”

“Shut up, Ronnie!”

The blonde doubled over, her arms wrapping around her abdomen as tears formed. “Oh, John is going to be so pissed! I can’t believe you didn’t even consider that!”

“Hey, it’s not like he isn’t rich enough to replace the furniture!” Wren insisted, throwing her hands in the air. “He can just buy more! And it’s not like he’s going to know who did it. Right?”

Veronica stood straight, wiping away her tears. “The man is a lawyer, Wren. I don’t think he’s stupid. No one else would dare do this shit.” She shook her head.

Wren huffed. “Well, he ain’t got proof. I was told to leave the trailer here so they could transport them back to the Center.”

They decided to leave it on the other side of John’s hangar, out of sight to not immediately tip him off. Veronica helped Wren unlatch the trailer, both working up a sweat from the summer heat. It was starting to get dark, but the humidity was still hanging heavy around them. Veronica sighed, hopping up on some black crates.

“I need a cigarette.” She groaned as she pulled the pack out of her vest pocket, putting one in her mouth as she lit it.

Wren opened the back of the jeep, grabbing a couple of beers and using her shirt to pop the tops. “I hear that. Have a beer, too.”

Veronica grabbed it, saying thank you as Wren leaned against the crates. Ronnie took a quick swig then sat it down beside her. Wren checked her phone again making Veronica roll her eyes. “Checking to see if you got any sexy texts?”

“Not likely.” Wren muttered, but Ronnie could see the light blush on her face.

“How’s Game of Thrones going? Did you get to the part where—”

Wren’s blue green eyes snapped to Ronnie’s blue ones, piercing her with a glare. “Don’t you dare ruin that for me, Veronica Rook, so help me god.”

She only laughed in response, taking a pull from her cancer stick. “I won’t ruin it, I promise. But hurry up, I wanna talk about it with you!”

“Tsk, I’ll get around to it eventually.”

“Which means you’ll finish it in a year.”

They both laughed and it stayed that way for a little while. Ronnie did know why they were just hanging around; she was starting to get antsy. John could come home any moment, and as fun as it would be to see his reaction, Ronnie didn’t wanna be the receiving end of that man’s rage. Pointing that out to Wren, she checked her phone, and agreed that it was time to go. Hoping in the driver’s seat, Wren sent a quick text, probably an update to the people at F.A.N.G Center, before they were on their way.

Pulling off to park, Ronnie eyed the bar suspiciously. There were more cars here than when they left, but it was strangely quiet. Never had she seen something like this, and she was about to voice her concern to Wren, but she was already out of the jeep and shutting her door. If Wren wasn’t concerned, it was fine.

Right?

Veronica wasn’t so sure, and she suddenly missed her service pistol. She both chose not to carry since they were going to the bar to celebrate. At the time, it made a lot of sense. But now? Not so much. Her heart was pounding, not sure of what to expect, so she had no issue going in first when Wren motioned for her to. She was ready for anything.

Well, almost anything.

What she wasn’t expecting was the bar being so full of people, or for those people to hope up from hiding. From behind the bar, out of the kitchen, and even behind the chairs.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Someone, somewhere, had a confetti gun and made it rain in rainbow paper. Veronica eyed the green and pink birthday banner that was definitely homemade. Her hands found her mouth, covering it as tears swelled, pure happiness taking over completely as Wren threw her arm around her shoulders.

Everyone was there. Adelaide stood with Mary May, Evie with Joey hugging her from behind, Rey waving with Sharky and Hurk jr, and even Rheese had been able to make it as she stood with the Rye’s and Grace. It was overwhelming, and she was passed around, greeted and hugged. Veronica was smiling so much, her face was starting to get sore, and she was sure her makeup was done for with all the crying. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

To say she had a blast, was an understatement of the century. A game of darts with Rey that ended up proving Veronica had terrible aim while drinking, but neither of them cared. It only roped her into a drinking contest with Rheese, the blonde bound and determined to beat her this time. Rey and Wren placed their bets as Evie took her job as referee seriously. It got to the point where they had just started chugging with their friends chanting and cheering them on. Rheese placed her arms around her, pulling her close in a tight hug.

“IT’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY!!!”

It got Wren and Evie rowdy, and one thing led to another, resulting in a karaoke battle. Wren dragged her with her, Evie following with Hudson in tow.

They all agreed to one song. But one turned to three, and eventually, they had lost count. All that mattered was that Sharky was singing along in the audience as Hurk jr waved a lighter in the air. When they were fully out of breath and sweaty, they stopped, asking which team had won. Sharky just shrugged.

“I just thought y’all were havin’ fun, didn’t know I was s’pose to be judgin’.”

They just laughed, stumbling away from the karaoke machine giving their friends high fives as they went. It was then Veronica’s mom came out of the kitchen, her and Ronnie’s friends leading the entire bar in singing Happy Birthday. The cake was bigger than Ronnie was used to having, two tiered and the icing matching the banner.

“Make a wish!” Rey called with a wide smile once the singing died down. Veronica giggled, racking her brain for something to wish for, but for once, she couldn’t think of anything. She had everything she wanted right here…well, almost everything.

With the thought of pretty green eyes, Veronica blew out the candles, everyone clapping and cheering. It was Mary May who cut the cake, helping Ronnie’s mom pass out slices to everyone. The group of friends finding a table for themselves. Wren leaning back, resting a leg on Ronnie’s chair, and Ronnie doing the same. Evie plopped herself down on Joey’s lap while Rey pulled her knee up, her arm holding it close as she took a bite. Rheese, dragged a chair loudly across the floor, making a few people stare as she swung it around and straddled it. Evie winked at her, running a finger in the icing of her cake.

“Hey babe, watch this.” Evie teased before smearing it over the side of Joey’s face. Wren snorted before taking a bite, and Joey eyed Evie mischievously. Grabbing the icing flower on her cake, Joey moved to smash it on Evie, but the blonde shifted, moving out of the way last minute.

Rey, however, wasn’t so lucky.

The flower smacked Rey in the chest, sliding down. She carefully grabbed it, eyeing Hudson as she set her foot back on the ground. Moving forward, she took a chunk of her cake before throwing it back. The alcohol, unfortunately, affected Rey’s aim, making it Rheese in the face. The table grew quiet, but Wren cackled, laughing loudly and Rheese fixed her glare on her.

A smirk made its way across her face as she grabbed the whole cake, flinging it at Wren. She squealed when the cake hit it’s mark against her own face. “Motherfu—”

The table erupted, cake and frosting painting the table and floor. Ronnie ducked, pushing away from the table in hopes to escape as Wren smashed her piece in Rey’s hair, but she wasn’t so lucky. Rheese grabbed Veronica’s plate and smashed it against her face. She could taste the icing and she was almost certain some of it made it in her nose.

“Guys! Seriously?!” Mary May called, her hands on her hips as she assessed the damage.

“And that’s my que.” Rey said with a laugh. “I’ll catch you later, dears. Don’t have too much fun.”

They hugged before Rey made her exit, waving as she walked out. Wren called back, promising to clean up when everything was done. Fairgrave gave her a look before shaking her head and returning back to the bar. They erupted in laughter, ordering another round of drinks.

Slowly, things began to die down, Evie and Joey announcing their departure, leaving hand in hand. Rheese stayed for a bit longer before she, too, called it a night. She gave quick hugs, wishing another loud happy birthday that made Veronica blush. Wren and Veronica sat in comfortable silence a little longer before Ronnie felt a gentle touch against her shoulder, and looking, she found the familiar green eyes and bright smile.

“Hey.” Ronnie said, her voice just a bit shaky.

“I heard it was your birthday.” Faith replied, her soft voice almost drowned out by the music still playing. “Wren mentioned that you were having a party.” Ronnie whipped around to throw a look at Wren, but she was taking another drink and looking innocent as the bottle hid her smirk. She smiled, turning back to Faith as her heart pounded.

“Oh, yeah. It was a bit of a surprise. I’m sorry that I didn’t get a chance to say hi earlier.”

Faith just laughed. “No worries! You were having fun with your friends. Unfortunately, my brothers couldn’t join. Joseph had some counseling to do with some troubled followers and Jacob isn’t exactly the social type. And John, well…” Faith glanced at Wren briefly. “He’s a bit busy dog sitting, I heard.”

Wren barked out a laugh and Ronnie couldn’t fight the smile on her face. “You heard about that?”

“I’ve heard a few things.” Faith replied with a twinkle in her eye. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss against Veronica’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Veronica.” She whispered in her ear. Ronnie couldn’t bring herself to say anything as Faith walked away. She touched her cheek, still feeling the warmth of Faith’s lips still burning against her skin. Guess her birthday wish came true after all.

“So?” Wren asked, looking at Veronica. “Good day?”

Before Veronica could answer, the bar door flew open. John Seed, muddy and disheveled, stood in the entryway. “Blake!”

Wren’s eyes widened as she paled, and Veronica howled. “The best!”

[alexthepartyman]

The Rescue of Jamie (a really weird drabble I wrote and read to my English class)

“I have the forty thousand, right here, in my fucking hand!” The woman screams, her green eyes lighting with fire as her voice echoes off the walls of the warehouse. “Now give me back my son.”

The men who had taken her boy didn’t know who he belonged to until she tracked them down and demanded he be returned, but they had to stick to their guns and deals, even if they had unknowingly kidnapped the sick toddler son of a murdered cop during a robbery gone wrong.

The ransom remained steady over five months, forty thousand would go a long way for the gang. It would also cause severe financial damage to the woman, as somebody had to pay for what they thought was child abuse, but in reality, was just Jamie’s nature.

The five-year-old boy was quiet, believed to be somewhat deaf as he didn’t acknowledge anyone or speak, but mischievous as any other boy his age, possibly more. He was small and frail as if a gentle drop could shatter him to pieces, though he often entertained himself by climbing and tearing things apart to put them back together. Of course, the group felt mad for making him so frail, but nobody could’ve seen that much blood spurting out of the boy after giving him an over-the-counter ibuprofen that they triple-checked for poisoning. The boy had certainly made up any, if not all, lost sleep in his life, as that was all he did unless he was using the bathroom or eating, due to the blood loss he had suffered.

Now, his mother stands downstairs, in the night of that abandoned Mulholland warehouse, with forty thousand dollars in her hand and a pistol hidden in the waistband of her wrinkled jeans.

“Alright, alright, you’re gonna get your kid back. Just give us the money, we’ll count it, and then we’ll bring him down to you.” A man tells the woman.

She nearly thrusts the money at him.

“Now you relax, gotta get this counte- EY-EY-EY!”

A pistol now sits in her hands, pointed at the bridge of his nose.

“No, it’s all there. All forty fucking THOUSAND OF MY LITTLE BOY’S LIFE!”

A moment of silence passes; she gasps for breath before ordering, “Now, you’re going to march your pretty little butt to wherever in this building you’ve put him, and you’re gonna bring Jamie back to me.”

“Stick to the deal, woman. I just told you, let me get it counted, don’t want to come up short here-”

BOOM!

He falls to the ground, holding his left bicep while groaning in pain.

“Get. Me. My. Son.” She says, stepping over him and pointing the gun in his face. 

“ADELAIDE WOODS, FBI!” A crash follows the sound, police and federal agents swarm the warehouse, the black of the night being interrupted by flashing blue and red.

“Addy, drop the gun!” A woman with raven hair quickly approaches, pointing her gun at the woman with curly brown hair that frames her tear-streaked and stone face. 

“I WANT MY SON!” She screams, turning around to face her new audience. 

“Drop the gun, Adelaide. It’s over.” A man orders, pointing a pistol at the woman. 

“No! Not until I get him back!” She yells. 

“You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to shoot another cop, Addy.” The raven-haired woman says.

Meanwhile, upstairs, three men search upstairs for the missing boy.

“Where would a five-year-old hide?” The black man asks. 

“Start looking in boxes. Jamie would hide somewhere cozy where he’d be protected from harm,” The youngest replies, with the oldest adding, “The boy’s sick; reported to be covered in blood and unable to respond. Be careful, he’s easily scared and stressed.” 

The three men holster their guns, knowing that the little boy would be terrified to see a gun pointed at him, and armed with a flashlight, they start ripping open boxes.

“Try moving to a corner. Jamie might feel safer there.” The youngest states. 

“So that box there, in the corner there?” The black man replies.

“Yeah, I feel that’s exactly where he’d be. Come on.” The oldest man ventures over to a back corner of the room, the other two moving scattered boxes out of the man’s walkway.

He reaches for the tipped over box on the ground and puts it right side up.

“Hey, little guy. You must be Jamie.” He speaks with a softer tone, looking into the cardboard box. A tiny, sickly boy lies in the box, curled up into a little ball, his green eyes more vacant than an abandoned hotel.

“I’m David. You’re okay, you’re safe now.” He says. 

Jamie blinks slowly, his eyes lazily drifting about. Dried, crusted blood covers a lot of his face and most of his body and clothes, and his thumbs lay loosely in his mouth.

“I NEED A MEDIC!!” The black man bellows, agitating the boy further.

“Sssh, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you help.” David says, reaching in and picking up the toddler, who was too sick, stressed, and tired to properly fight, though whimpering and trying to wriggle free of his newfound captivity.  The man adjusts the boy to a better position, scooting him up to better hold him close so he would be warm. 

“We got him, Hotch, but he’s not doing great,” the black man speaks into his microphone.

“I’m getting him out of here, he needs medical now,” David says, heading for the stairs to lead him to the paramedics. 

“Hotch, Rossi’s bringing Jamie to medical.” The black man says into his microphone.

David carefully climbs down the stairs and darts across the warehouse floor, with the boy in his arms, arriving at the exit in little time.

The tear-stricken mother jumps to her feet and runs at them from a police car, a blonde woman following behind her.

“JAMIE! JAMIE!” Addy bellows, forcefully pulling her son into her arms. “Oh, Jamie. Jamie, what have they done to you?” The woman sobs, holding onto the boy for dear life. She seems unaware of the boy’s screaming and squirming, dying to escape her grip. 

“Adelaide-Addy. Addy, let him go.” The black man approaches calmly, slowly reaching out towards the boy. 

“He’s not your boy!” She screams, sobbing uncontrollably into the boy’s curly hair. Blood spurts from both nostrils of his little nose, gushing at a rapid rate. “It’s Mommy, don’t you remember?” She sobs, guiding his chin to her face. As soon as she touches him, he cries out and whips his head away, spurring a coughing fit as he cries and screams. 

“Addy, he’s too stressed and sick. He needs help.” The black man calmly says, reaching again.

“HE’S NOT YOUR SON!” She screams back at him, falling into a sitting position. 

The boy is soon covered with his own blood and vomit, his skin turning blue as his green eyes flutter shut.

“Addy, you have to let him go. He needs help, look. He can’t breathe.” The blonde woman says, her blue eyes boring into a maternal green.

“Come here, Jamie, it’s okay.” The black man says, quickly pulling him out of her arms and handing him to David before turning to fight off Addy, who had leapt to attack him.

David runs the boy to an awaiting ambulance, paramedics quickly placing him on the sideways on the gurney and strapping an oxygen mask to his face before strapping him down and plugging his nose, forcing him to breathe through his mouth. 

The white lights of the ambulance are a near match to the little boy’s skin; they load him up, David climbing in and being handed the boy’s stained shirt. The paramedics work quickly, poking IVs into the unconscious child and hooking him up to machines that add to the chaos of the back of the vehicle. Sirens ring out, machines beep, a man pumps medications with funny names into Jamie. The ride seems to take forever, until the boy is wheeled into the hospital, spots of white and purple amongst the red, where they had inserted needles and where he had bruised.

David pulls out his cell phone and dials a familiar number as he finds a seat in the waiting room, holding the bloodied shirt to his chest. He knows he can only hope the doctors can save the little boy’s life, only the Lord could let this boy take another step on this Earth.

[starlingsrps]

palmer osborne.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: palmer robert osborne REASONING: nope, not really. NICKNAME(S): ozzy, six PREFERRED NAME(S): he'll answer to pretty much whatever tbh BIRTH DATE: june 27 AGE: twenty seven ZODIAC: cancer GENDER: cis male PRONOUNS: he/him ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual NATIONALITY: american ETHNICITY: american CURRENT LOCATION: montreal LIVING CONDITIONS: pretty neat and tidy, if a little....bachelor-y.

BACKGROUND BIRTH PLACE: bismarck, nd HOMETOWN: bismarck, nd SOCIAL CLASS: upper, he guesses. EDUCATION LEVEL: in theory, he has a degree in history from the university of north dakota but........... FATHER: stark osborne, 67, retried state trooper MOTHER: peggy osborne, 65, retired kindergarten teacher SIBLING(S): adelaide ross, 40; jim, 37; natalie gilbert, 36; jennifer hoffman, 32, matt, 30 BIRTH ORDER: youngest CHILDREN: — PET(S): a polydactyl calico named hank OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: in-laws, legions of them. all of his siblings are married and he's up to twelve nieces and nephews. LEGION. PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: like, he guesses. CURRENT RELATIONSHIP: single, ready to mingle. ARRESTS?: there have been Conversations with certain members of law enforcement, he will say that much. he's kept his nose pretty clean since junior year of college though.

OCCUPATION & INCOME PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: left wing, montreal canadiens SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: investing - his brother jim is a broker and has been helping him build a portfolio. he's not exactly sure what it all means so he trusts jim. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yeah sure it's cool PAST JOB(S): AHL (st. john's ice caps/laval rocket), ECHL (greenville swamp rabbits), pizza maker SPENDING HABITS: reasonable - he's not a big spender, never has been. nice apartment where he doesn't have to share a bathroom with anyone else has been his biggest indulgence. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: man, he doesn't know.

SKILLS & ABILITIES PHYSICAL STRENGTH: A+ SPEED: A+ INTELLIGENCE: like a C ACCURACY: A AGILITY: A STAMINA: A TEAMWORK: he's a fantastic teammate TALENTS: hockey, loyal, tenacious SHORTCOMINGS: his temper burns fast and hot LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, ten words of spanish. he's aware he should speak more french, playing in montreal but it's only been a year and he's....trying. DRIVE?: yep, a bmw he felt like he was supposed to get but that kind of makes him feel like a dick. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yep CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: he could figure it out with diagrams RIDE A BICYCLE?: he couldn't tell you the last time he tried SWIM?: sure PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: nope PLAY CHESS?: nope BRAID HAIR?: kind of? he's grown it out pretty long in the past and he fucked around with it with braids and such TIE A TIE?: yep PICK A LOCK?: sure

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS FACE CLAIM: jack quaid EYE COLOR: blue HAIR COLOR: brown HAIR TYPE/STYLE: short, little curly. he's growing out a buzzcut. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: neither DOMINANT HAND: left HEIGHT: 6'1 BUILD: athletic, booty rockin everywhere. EXERCISE HABITS: daily, in one way or another. SKIN TONE: fair TATTOOS: shockingly, nah. he's thought about it but only usually when he's drunk and figures that's not a good time to get a tattoo. PIERCINGS: nah MARKS/SCARS: oh yeah. NOTABLE FEATURES: expressive face, mile deep dimples, freckles USUAL EXPRESSION: amused CLOTHING STYLE: jeans and a button down tucked in - he likes to look neat. suits for game day and he loves a nice suit. JEWELRY: nah. ALLERGIES: seasonal DIET: healthy but he puts hot sauce on everything like a monster. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: like aches and pains from hockey for twenty four years straight but he'll live. he's had a few concussions and a few hip and shoulder injuries but nothing.........truly awful.

PSYCHOLOGY MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good TEMPERAMENT: choleric ELEMENT: fire MBTI TYPE: ESTP MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: palmer has a chip the size of east texas on his shoulder. he only got a full nhl contract last year and he's still scared shitless that someone's going to be like "hey what are you doing here" and kick his ass back to greenville. SOCIABILITY: pretty good - he's friendly and upbeat if he likes you but will fuck with you if he doesn't but it's hard to tell because Dimples. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: he wears his heart on his sleeve - you'll see every thought and emotion. PHOBIA(S): The Big One, be it concussion or injury. ADDICTION(S): nah DRUG USE: nope, never ALCOHOL USE: very, very seldom during the season but yeah, sure in off-season PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not off the ice at least.

MANNERISMS SPEECH STYLE: measured, even. ACCENT: kind of flat midwestern QUIRKS: the hot sauce thing. HOBBIES: video games, hanging. he likes exploring montreal still. HABITS: working out? NERVOUS TICKS: clearing his throat when he's thinking or doesn't like the question. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: don't fuck it up. POSITIVE TRAITS: energetic, direct, tenacious, loyal, emotional. NEGATIVE TRAITS: insensitive, impatient, risk-prone, reckless, insecure. SENSE OF HUMOR: juvenile DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: tiny bit.

FAVORITES ACTIVITY: playing hockey - he's been playing since he was three and it's his favorite thing in the whole damn world ANIMAL: cats - he loves hank the most. BEVERAGE: water BOOK: nah. COLOR: red FOOD: breakfast food HOLIDAY: christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: drive MOVIE: the mighty ducks is like, 70% of the reason he got into hockey. SONG: "could have been me" by the struts SCENERY: anything out of an airplane window SCENT: ice and pine SPORT: come on. SPORTS TEAM: he doesn't want to commit to an answer TELEVISION SHOW: letterkenny WEATHER: summer VACATION DESTINATION: anywhere warm and sunny

ATTITUDES GREATEST DREAM: keep doing this as long as he's able. that simple. GREATEST FEAR: see above, re: The Big One. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he's playing hockey - he's pretty confident in his abilities there. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: getting to this point. he's been clawing his way up to the nhl for five years, played his first game with montreal in 2017 (got called up from laval for a game, it was the best day ever) and signed his NHL contract two summers ago. so that.   BIGGEST REGRET: not keeping his mouth shut sometimes TOP PRIORITIES: his career, his cat, his family.

[igoturbackkid]

When You Were Young (Michael Langdon x reader one shot)

“You sit there in your heartache

Waiting on some beautiful boy to

To save you from your old ways”

Note: Warnings: drug use, mental illness (depression), death, season 1 and 8 spoilers, fluff, and smut. I’ve also never done drugs so Idk how accurate parts of this are but it’s fiction so just go with it! lol Also I stole the title from a song again but it fits so perfectly and it’s one of my favorite songs of all time. And I’m still new to writing so any constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy!

*** = time jump

The first time you met Michael was when his grandma killed herself. You were one of the many spirits doomed to wander the Murder House for eternity. You were only 16 when you died. You didn’t have many friends growing up, being the introverted weirdo that people made fun of daily, so when you got to high school, you immediately found a group to call yours. They were the stoners. Constantly getting high, drinking, and trying anything that was passed around at parties. Your parents didn’t understand what was wrong with you. They loved you, god help them, but they didn’t know how to control you. You still remember the first time you tried drugs was when you realized you had depression. You barely went to school, you were never happy, not even sad, you didn’t feel anything at all. Your room was your sanctuary, but all you did was wallow in your own depression, away from anyone and everyone.

One day while your parents were at work, you skipped school again and were feeling utterly restless. You wandered into your parent’s bedroom and started going through their things. You stumbled into their bathroom and found a bunch of bottles of medicine. It had your typical ibuprofen, allergy medicine, etc. But what really interested you were the bottle of prescription pain killers. You knew that people got addicted to them, but you also knew that you could get high off of them. Maybe that’s what you needed. A shock to the system to set you back to normal. You popped a couple of the pills into your mouth and wondered back to your room, waiting for the effects to kick in. It wasn’t quite what you were expecting, you felt almost more numb, but in a good way. You felt like you were in such a different state that mental illness couldn’t even touch you. That’s where your addiction began.

It was Halloween night and you and your friends were pretty wasted. Those of you who weren’t completely passed out decided to embark on a spooky adventure. You knew all about the Murder House growing up in LA. Everyone did, the house was infamous for the vile acts committed inside the premises. Sure, you’d seen the building from the outside but this time you were gonna get a first-hand tour. One of your friends had been arrested  for breaking and entering before and he was the one who initiated the plan of break in, find some ghosts, and get high. You and your friends explored the whole house, mostly in the dark without finding anything. Your friend told you that if the spirits didn’t wanna be seen, then they wouldn’t show themselves. You all tried to get them to come out, trying to make them mad, even using a Ouija board you found in the basement. Still nothing.

That’s when you all decided to just get high instead. The oldest in the group, a senior at the school, brought cocaine. You’d never tried anything that intense before. But that didn’t scare you. What’s the worst that can happen? You get super paranoid and pass out? Your friends went one by one until it was your turn. You did exactly as they did. It didn’t take long to kick in but once it did you were flying. You felt so high you never wanted to come down. So while your friends were all minding their own business, checking out the house, you decided to partake again. That’s where you went wrong. Your second hit was bigger than the first, and you were already so high. You started to feel sick to your stomach, you actually vomited in your mouth. You managed to swallow it but started to feel hot, like you had a fever. That’s when you blacked out.

 After a few minutes you stood back up, feeling much better. You felt fine actually. You looked around to try to find your friends but you didn’t see them. Did they ditch you? Assholes. You continued to wander the basement, until you saw the oddest thing. It was you. You were lying on the ground, motionless, eyes rolled to the back of your head. Oh god. You couldn’t stop the immediate sobs that wracked your body. You were dead. You were dead and you’d never grow up, you’d never see your family again, you’d never graduate, you’d never get married and have babies. You were dead.

It took an adjustment to get used to being just a ghost of the person you were before. Once the spirits of the house realized what happened to you, they made themselves known. The first one to introduce herself was Moira. She was an older, red-headed lady who felt pity for you. She told you about the other spirits, warned you against them, and offered her condolences. She wasn’t prepared to die either when she did but she didn’t have a choice since she was shot and killed.

After a few years of wandering the home, you finally weren’t completely somber on the inside. You still weren’t happy in this afterlife but at least you weren’t in hell. You didn’t think you’d be able to take the burning, the torture, whatever actually went on down there. If hell was real, then Satan was real, and that meant your bible-thumping parents were right. They thought Satan would bring about the apocalypse. Crazy, right?

It was another normal day while you were wandering the house. You were upstairs, looking out one of the windows. While you were watching you saw an older lady walk into the house. You thought nothing of it, you’d seen her around before. Sometimes she would talk to Tate, sometimes to her other son, Beau. You heard some shuffling downstairs, some music playing, not quite sure what Constance was up to. You continued daydreaming out of the window when you saw a young boy approach the house. You couldn’t tell much about him, but he looked about your age with short, blonde hair. You made your way downstairs to see what he was doing here.

“Grandma!” you heard the boy call out. “Grandma!!”

“Grandma?” you heard him say in a distressed tone.

When you finally made your way downstairs, the scene before you was so tragic, you started to tear up. Constance was on the couch, lying dead, as the boy cried and tried his hardest to get her to wake up.

“Grandma, hey, hey wake up.” he tried pulling at her lifeless body, trying anything to get his Grandma to come back to him. Wait, his grandma? Who was this boy? You thought you knew all of Constance’s family, even if her Adelaide’s spirit wasn’t trapped in the house as well. 

“That’s my son.” you heard a man’s voice say behind you.

Ben Harmon was stood behind you now, also watching the scene unfold.

“Your son? I thought your son died?” you questioned Ben. Violet had told you her mother was raped, gave birth but that the baby was a still born.

“When my family lived here, my wife was raped. By Tate. She was pregnant with mine and Tate’s child. One of them was a still born, the other survived. Constance, took him in.” he explained to you.

You couldn’t even think of a response to what he told you. Vivian was raped by Tate Langdon? Why would he do that. But Ben said that was his son, was this Tate’s son, since Constance took him in? He did just call her his Grandma...

You turned away from Ben, back unto the scene of the crying boy in front of you. You watched him clutch Constance’s lifeless body and cry out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault!”

Right then you felt your heart break for this poor boy, too young to lose his only family. If Tate/Ben is his father and Vivian is his mother, then the rest of his family is dead. You really felt for the guy. You decided to show yourself to the young boy, with so much grief in his eyes, to help him.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” you told him as you appeared.

“Who are you?” he asked. 

“A spirit who also died in this house, who just wants to show you some kindness.” you told him simply.

“A spirit? Does that mean my Grandma is a ghost now too?” he questioned.

“Yes, she is. But I don’t think she wants to be seen.” you told him as you watched Constance’s spirit walk out of the room, unseen to the living.

“She doesn’t wanna see me?” he cried.

“No, I’m sorry.” you apologized.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he accused you.

“Someone who wants to be seen, someone who wants to help.” you replied. He slowly shook his head, unbelieving of what you said.

“I want to help you, let me help you.” you said.

“I’m a monster! Why would you wanna help me?” he asked you.

“Because I died in this house and I’ve never felt more alone, being trapped in this house. But you’re alive, free to do whatever, go wherever, but you have no one. Which means you also have never felt more alone.” you told him.

He only kept looking at you, tears in his eyes, still clinging to Constance’s body for dear life. You slowly approached him, holding your hand out for him to take.

“My name’s Y/n. What’s yours?” you introduced yourself to him.

“Michael. Michael Langdon.” he said while slowly grabbing your hand as you pulled him up.

“Well Michael, let’s go try and forget about this awful day, together, if that’s alright?” you hesitantly questioned him, not wanting to come on too strong.

“Ok.” he replied in such a small voice, tear stains down his beautiful face.

***

Ever since that day, you and Michael began a friendship. You were two of the loneliest people who made a true friendship, when you came together. Michael was an interesting person. Depending on who you asked about him, he was either a monster, or to you, just another lonely and lost soul. Constance took notice of you hanging around with her grandchild, she even tried to warn you to stay away from him, that he was evil incarnate. You blew her off with a “Fuck you, you don’t know the real him, you don’t know him like I do!”. All she replied with was a “Just don’t come crying to me when you see how evil that boy really is.”

You and Michael were close so you decided to tell him about your encounter with his Grandmother. He said she was probably right, that there was something wrong with him. He liked to skin animals, hammer them to the walls, and leave them for her. He saw them as gifts but she thought it was an abomination. Because of this new discovery, you started to understand Michael a lot more than you did before. He was the creation of a spirit that fornicated with the living, that had to have an effect on him. The darkness of the other side, of death, must have had some kind of influence on him. He’s not a normal kid in that sense, so he wouldn’t do normal things. It doesn’t mean what he’s doing isn’t wrong, it just means he doesn’t know that it’s wrong. 

The more time you spent with Michael, the more you saw the good in him. And he wanted to be good, desperately. Always looking for your approval, to know what he did was right and good. This house was always shrouded in a darkness that tainted your heart with grief and despair. Michael was your light in the darkness. And you loved him for it. Michael and you started to spend a lot of time cuddled up together. Either watching a scary movie as he held you, taking walks through the house and holding his hand. A romance slowly started to blossom between you two. At first you were conflicted. You were dead, you’d always be dead, so Michael should leave and find someone alive to be happy with. But the other part of you craved him more than any drug you ever had. It was selfish to love him, wrong even, but you didn’t wanna be right.

The first time you kissed was after an encounter he had with his father, Tate. Michael was going through his things and Tate caught him in the act. Michael innocently told him, “I just wanna be like you, Dad.” and Tate exploded at the boy. He told him, “Not even I could create something as monstrous, as evil as you!”

Michael’s response was to throw himself back onto the bed and cry. You were furious. You wanted to kick Tate’s ass for being such an ass. But your Michael needed you, and that was more important. Tate would get an earful later. 

You sat down on the bed next to a crying Michael. At first you just rubbed his back, telling him words of encouragement, trying to get him to stop crying because it was killing you inside. Michael was your weakness, seeing him cry made you cry. You brought yourself closer to him, rubbing his back and whispering in his ear. Telling him how great you thought he was, how special he was, what a great friend he was to you, and how much you loved and needed him.

When he heard that, Michael lifted his head. He sat up to rest his head on your shoulder as you put your arm around him to comfort him. As he finally calmed down, he wiped the final tears off his face and turned to face you. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. Don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave.” he pleaded with you.

This poor boy had no one in the world. No one but a girl who died and whose spirit befriended him out of pity. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about that, Michael. Anyway, I’m stuck here remember?” you joked.

Michael laughed quietly and bumped your shoulder with his. You both just sat there smiling, happy to be in each other’s company. It was quiet for a minute while you both just stared ahead at the room. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already staring at you. The intensity of his eyes made you blush. His eyes suddenly flickered down to your lips before his closed his eyes and he started to lean in. If you had a beating heart you’re sure it would have jumped out of your chest. You brought your hands up to hold either side of his face, closed your eyes, and leaned in. When your lips met, you felt a spark. Like a lighter being flicked on. The sudden heat rushed through your body, you almost felt alive again at the sensation. The kiss started out innocent but once you opened your mouth to him, it became way more intense. Michael got the clue and opened his lips to taste you. When your tongues met it was like two puzzle pieces finally put together. It felt right to be with Michael in this way. To be completely open with him, it was like he could see your soul. As you continued to kiss, your hands wondered onto his chest, then onto his back, holding him to you. He brought his hands to hold your face in his and he cradled it like it was the most precious thing he’s ever held. Like he didn’t wanna break you but also like he never wanted to let go. Once you both started to run out of air you both leaned back to catch your breath.

His hands still held your face as you both just smiled at each other. Content in each other’s silence. Knowing that nothing needed to be said because you both were just blissfully ignorant to anything that wasn’t this moment. The world could be ending and neither of you would care because you’re here in his arms, feeling alive for the first time.

***

“So how’d you die?” your Michael asked you one day while lounging on his bed together. His head was in your lap and you were running your fingers through his beautiful hair.

“I overdosed.” you told him.

“Were you trying to kill yourself?” he asked innocently.

“No, I just liked the high, got greedy, and paid the price.” you explained to him.

“I don’t want this to come out wrong, but in a way, I’m glad you died. It brought me to you.” he confessed.

“Honestly, I feel exactly the same.” you confided to him.

He gave you that adorable smile you loved so much that just made you wanna hug him and never let go.

“Y/n...” he started.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Why did you do drugs?” he questioned.

“Because I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t get happy or sad. I just felt nothing, and I wanted to feel something.” you felt like you were in a therapy session.

“What about now, are you happy?” he asked you with those puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, yeah Michael, thanks to you I am.” you told him.

Michael sat up then and grabbed your face to start kissing you. He kissed you all over your face and it made you giggle. You were already laughing as he also decided to tickle you. You yelled for him to stop, breathless, and laughing. He kept going when suddenly you both heard the front door open. He told you to wait while he checked it out. You agreed. You realized he was taking quite a while and decided to see what was taking him so long. When you made it downstairs there were boxes everywhere. Someone moved in? You heard a scream and followed it into the home office. A man stood in a black rubber suit, he had just stabbed the two new homeowners to death. 

“No!” you screamed at the figure, trying to stop the tragedy happening before you. The man waved his hand and you found yourself unable to move. Unable to help the poor couple lying lifeless on the floor. The man suddenly unzipped the mask he was wearing and revealed his identity to you. Michael stood in front of you, staring you down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked innocently.

“Seriously?!” you yelled. “You just killed two people, Michael! Why the fuck did you do that?” you raised your voice at him.

“They don’t belong here.” he simply stated.

“Because of what you did they’ll be here forever.” you countered.

The couple just brutally murdered discovered their bodies, and rightly so, started to freak out.

“You didn’t have to kill them. I know you, Michael, this isn’t who you are.” you pleaded with him.

Suddenly, as if by magic, Michael started motioning with his hands and the spirits of the couple before you burnt up before completely disappearing. Suddenly you found you could move again. 

You didn’t know what to do. On one hand what Michael did was so awful you shouldn’t wanna ever see him again. And on the other hand, this was the man you loved, who was deeply fucked up, but still needed help. You simply decided, to just make yourself unseen. Before you turned to disappear, you saw tears in his eyes. He knew you were disappointed. You didn’t wanna fuck him up even further by yelling at him, so you decided to punish him by giving him the silent treatment. 

The entire time you avoided Michael physically, you were still with him every second, spiritually. He couldn’t see you but you were by his side every night. He was still your Michael, you couldn’t be without him. The day you decided to be seen again was the day three strange people visited the house. They wore black capes and claimed to be satanists. They invited Michael to partake in a ritual with them. One that involved the death of an innocent girl. When the ritual was over, and Michael became more powerful, you decided to show yourself. Michael cried, and begged for your forgiveness. You forgave but you never forgot. He cried so much he wore himself out so you put him to bed and watched him from the corner. It was in the middle of the night when another spirit entered his room. It was his mother, Vivian. She held a knife in her hand as she approached Michael. You completely froze, not knowing if you should stop her to save your love, or let him kill the evil that was inside of him. Suddenly his eyes opened and Vivian started to burn like the couple he killed. You were still frozen with fear when suddenly Tate jumped out and saved Vivian. You were glad he was there, because you were literally petrified. 

You realized Michael was becoming a completely different person to the sweet, innocent boy you once met. It took some time before you and Michael went back to normal, after the things you witnessed, you decided there was nothing you could do now so you should just enjoy your time with him. One day you realized Michael wasn’t home and went to look for him. You couldn’t find him anywhere. You waited and waited for him to come home but he never did. You finally found a letter in the office, where you first met him, with your name written on it. 

Y/n,

I’m sorry for everything I’ve done but I have to leave. It’s my destiny. I know you think there’s something wrong with me, even if you try to ignore it. So I’m leaving to become who I was meant to be, and so you don’t have to feel bad pretending to like me anymore. I still love you, I promise one day I’ll come back.

-Michael

You dropped to your knees with the realization Michael was gone. Your heart ached and tears streamed down your face. He was gone. Your Michael, your light was gone. It didn’t matter anymore, the evil things he did, because he was gone and he wasn’t coming back. He promised in his letter he’d return but he probably only wrote that for your benefit. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. What a load of bullshit.

***

Years had passed since Michael left you and you were doing fine. Over the time you came to be thankful for his departure almost. The spirits here were right, he was evil, and you should stay away from him. You were sitting in the library, staring at the unlit fireplace when you suddenly heard a voice behind you.

“Even I could think of a few better ways to spend eternity in here other than staring at a boring fireplace.” he sarcastically remarked.

You immediately whipped your head around to meet the eyes of a man your heart ached for. Michael stood in the doorway, wearing all black. His hair was slightly longer, and he was even slightly taller but it was him. His beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. You leapt up from your seat and ran to him. He welcomed you with open arms as you hung onto him for dear life.

“You came back.” you barely got out as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” he retorted.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say so you lifted your head and kissed him so fiercely it took the wind out of both of you. Neither of you let go for several minutes, basking in each other’s presence. Happy to be reunited.

“Where have you been? Why did you come back?” you questioned him.

“Well, darling, I already told you the answer to one of those questions. As for ‘where have I been?’. Well that’s a long story, love.” he responded.

“Well then... just one more question...what now? You left, you grew up. I’m still dead and stuck in this house for eternity. Why come back for something you can never fully have? You should have just stayed away.” you confessed. As much as it hurt to say, it was true. Michael could have a life, away from you, away from this demonic house. It’s what he should have done, but Michael wasn’t very good at doing what he was told.

“I came to fetch you, love. So we can be together, the way we were meant to. If you’ll have me?” he said.

“How?” you simply responded.

“While I was away, my powers became stronger. I’m pretty much the most powerful warlock to ever exist, darling. Aren’t you proud of me?” he asked with a cheeky grin on his angelic face. 

“If that’s true, if you’re right. Then get me out of here, so we can be together.” you told him.

“Happily, Y/n.”

“So how are you going to do this?” you didn’t know what his plan was. How was he going to get you out of a place you’d tried to escape so many times but never could.

“Easy, I’m going to pay a visit to Hell and bring you back to life.” he said like he wasn’t just about to go Hell and resurrect you like jesus fucking christ.

“Umm...” was all you could say.

“Relax, I’ve got this. Go ahead, take a seat, it’ll take me a moment, dear.” you took a seat on the couch in the room. Michael laid down on the floor in front of you, closing his eyes. He started saying something that you couldn’t make out. It sounded like Latin. Suddenly you weren’t in the library anymore, you were in Michael’s old room. You looked around, confused as to how you could’ve switched rooms, having not moved. When you looked towards the door, there stood Michael, except it was him when he was younger. His hair was shorter again, he looked more child-like, more innocent. 

“I’m leaving you.” he said, “I’m leaving and I’m never coming back, Y/n. I never even loved you.” he spat.

You were suddenly so overwhelmed with sadness. Michael just ripped out your heart and stomped on it. You were heart broken. You started to sob and call out for him. You grabbed him and tried to stop him from leaving. He simply shook you off as if you never meant anything to him, and slammed the door in your face. You fell to the floor, and cried your heart out.

“This is your hell?” you heard a voice ask, “This is so sad, Y/n.”

As you looked up the door was open and there stood Michael again. Except he was older, his hair was a little longer, and a little bit taller. How had he aged so quickly after breaking your heart so brutally?

“I’m not him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m here to get you out, Y/n.” he said as he leaned over to you, holding out his hand. Wiping tears off your face you grabbed his hand and stood up. He took you and walked out of the room. As you walked through the door you saw a bright, white light. The next thing you knew you were sitting up, gasping for air.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here. I’m here.” you heard a calming voice come from beside you. You turned your head and it was your Michael again. The all grown up one. You were out, you made it out of Hell. You were suddenly overcome with so many emotions, having died, gone to Hell, and come back to life. You started to cry and quickly started hyperventilating. Then you felt his hands grab your face. He turned you to look directly into his eyes.

“Breathe, Y/n.” he commanded. It was like a switch. His command made your heartbeat immediately ease back to normal. Your breathing slowed and your tears dried up on your cheeks. 

“You’re alright, you’re ok. You’re with me now, and I’m not leaving you. We’re getting out of here, there’s just one more thing I have to do.”

“What?” was all you managed to say.

“Well, darling, you died a 16 year old. And I’m not as young as I once was, so what do you say we help your aging process a little, seeing as you had a little hiccup in the road.” he brought you back from the dead, so aging didn’t seem as extreme of an experience to you, after what you just went through. Michael seemed to simply wave his hand before you, magically aging you a decade in only seconds. You didn’t feel anything particularly painful or weird. All you could think about was the night you died, remembering it so vividly. The drugs, your “friends” abandoning you, finding your own corpse. It flashed in your head like it happened yesterday, that moment haunting your every memory. When you finally realized Michael had finished, you quickly found a mirror in the room. Looking at yourself, you didn’t notice any huge changes. You looked like yourself, just more wrinkles and, that wasn’t a grey hair was it? You were too young for grey hair!

“What do you think?” Michael came up behind you, placing his hands on your waist, kissing you on the side of your head.

“I think we finally make sense as a couple.” you joked.

“I thought the Anti Christ dating a ghost made a lot of sense to me.” he laughed.

“Yeah, a little fucked up, but makes sense. But now we’re almost normal, like we can go on a date!” you squealed.

“A date? What’s that? It sounds absolutely disgusting.” he retorted.

“Oh come on Michael, they’re not that bad! Remember when we used to cuddle and have a horror movie marathon?”

“Yes.” he said.

“Well that’s a date! We can do more of that, maybe even go to an actual movie.” you explained.

“Honestly, as long as I’m with you, my love, I’ll do anything.” he professed.

You felt your heart start rapidly beating in your own chest, unfamiliar to the feeling of having a beating heart in your chest, having been a ghost for so many years.

“You know what we could do right now though?” you asked innocently, batting your eyes up at him, holding him close.

“And what’s that, dear?”

“This.” you said as you grabbed his face again, kissing him with so much passion and love you thought you’d explode trying to show him just how much you loved him. Michael responded eagerly, grabbing onto your waist, even dipping lower to grope your ass as you ran your fingers through his hair. As you made out, your tongues met and you swore you felt a spark so strong it made a shiver run down your spine, his hands following the path of the shiver, adding to the intensity. You were already dripping between the legs, ready to get to the main event. You didn’t wanna waste anymore time so in order for Michael to get the hint you caressed the front of his pants, feeling him harden under your touch. You started nipping at his neck and he finally had enough and threw you against the wall. He quickly rid you of your pants and underwear, as eager as you were to be one already. Once he had you half undressed he let you unzip his pants to pull his member out, giving it a few tugs. Michael suddenly grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up to hold you against the wall. As he held you, you guided his length inside of you and were finally connected. You crossed your legs behind his back, holding onto him for dear life. He thrust into you against the wall, careful not to bang your head on the wall. He started to pick up the pace and you were close so you started to kiss and suck at his neck again, pulling his hair. You heard him growl, which turned you on even more, accelerating you to your finish. With a couple more thrusts, he had you cumming, moaning into the quiet library. Michael quickly finished after you, moaning into your neck, and cursing your name, “Fuck, Y/n.”

Michael kept his head on your shoulder, getting control of his breathing as you did the same. When you both finally came down, he set you back on the ground, tucking himself back into his pants. He helped you get back into your clothes as well. Once again, you couldn’t help yourself and you kissed him with such a sweet, gentleness it made a tear fall out of Michael’s eye. When you lifted your head, he was smiling at you as you wiped his tear away, and kissed his forehead.

“Let’s go, Y/n. Let’s get out of here and take over the whole damn world together.” he started to pull you towards the front door.

As he pulled you to the door, you took a second, turning around and looking at the home you’d been trapped in for years. It was your own hell, but now it reflected your happiness. You died here, yes, but you were resurrected here, because of one man. And that man was pulling you out of the house, into the light. The same way he pulled you out of Hell. The only difference was this time,  you were free. Michael may be the “Anti Christ” but he was your savior, and you never wanted to look back.

[woundedheartwithin]

from these dark waters (from this dark world)

Far Cry 5 | Hurk Drubman Jr./Female Deputy | Fluff and Angst

First chapter: prologue Previous chapter: chapter two

For notes and extras, find it here on AO3!

chapter three

“You been quiet these last couple ‘a days.” Hurk says as he approaches her. She’s leaning against the new truck the people of Fall’s End had dug up for her with her arms crossed, staring at the big YES sign in the mountains beyond the town.

“Guess I’ve had a lot on my mind, Hurk.” She replies, still staring at that sign.

“Like the defector?”

“Yeah.” Bailey sighs. “What a colossal fuck up, huh?”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“Sure it was.” She huffs. “I’m gonna blow up that fucking sign.” The change of subject is jarring, and Hurk just blinks dumbly at her for a long time. “I’m gonna get a plane, fly it right at that sign, and jump out right before it hits. Boom.” She unfolds her arms and mimes the explosion with her hands.

“Hell yeah, sounds fun. Can I come?” Hurk says, sort of relieved. Blowing up John’s tribute to his dick sounds like the most fun they’ve had in a long time, and he’s sure it’ll act as a kind of therapy for her.

“Yeah. Let’s go find a plane.” She says, grinning and pushing off of the truck’s bumper.

—

Bailey stands at the base of the burning YES sign screaming up at the Chosen planes to just shoot her already. They oblige her willingly, and Hurk barely has enough time to grab her by the waist and drag her back into cover before they turn her into Swiss cheese. She fights him and they tumble a few feet down the mountain, grunting when he lands on top of her, snarling when he won’t get off.

He straddles her and pins her arms, baring his teeth and squeezing her legs with his knees to keep her from nailing him in the nuts.

“Stop it, you dumbass.” He growls, but she only fights harder. She yells and he covers her mouth with one hand, hissing at her. “You’re gonna give away our position. Fuckin’ Peggies are on the mountain, too. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed.”

She bites his hand.

He jerks backward and she manages to wriggle out from under him. She kicks him in the gut and scoots away from him.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” She says, low and dark, watching as he struggles to breathe again.

“Yeah, back at ya. Fuckin’ lunatic.” He wheezes.

—

She doesn’t speak to him for three days. They travel together, they work together, but she doesn’t say a word.

Then, at the end of the third day, she tosses him the keys to the truck and climbs in the passenger seat. He sighs and gets behind the wheel, easing out onto the road.

“Where to, boss?” He asks, not expecting an answer.

“Don’t care.” She replies, frowning. “Just wanna sleep for a bit.”

“How ‘bout I find someplace with a bed or two?” He asks, glancing at her. “You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”

“Whatever.” She huffs, then pulls the bill of her hat down low.

He drives until he hears her begin to snore, then he heads for that old hotel by the hot springs. They say it’s haunted, but Hurk doesn’t believe in that shit. Humans are the real monsters, not ghosts. He’s sure Bailey would say the same.

It’s full dark when he pulls into the parking lot. No one is around, so no one can question him when he goes around to the passenger side to pick her up and carry her upstairs to one of the rooms. She groans softly and presses her face into his chest, and he can’t help but smile as he climbs the stairs.

There’s only one available room, so Hurk puts Bailey in the bed, then sits on the floor and falls asleep against the wall.

When he wakes up, he finds her sitting up in bed watching him. She smiles when he meets her gaze.

“You didn’t have to sleep on the floor.” She says softly. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch.”

“Nah.” Hurk says, chuckling and heaving himself up. “I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t.” She huffs. He sits on the foot of the bed and looks at her. “I just… it freaked me out, is all. Took me back to being strapped in that fucking chair. I know you care about me and I know you didn’t mean to scare me, and that you wouldn’t hurt me. I shouldn’t have given you the cold shoulder just for trying to keep me from killing my stupid self.”

“See? Told you you just needed a good night’s sleep.” He says, putting a hand on her ankle and squeezing it gently. “Don’t worry about it, Bailey. Really. I got your back.” He smiles again. “And I’m sorry for scarin’ you.”

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She says softly, putting her hand over his. “Anyway, now it’s your turn to get some sleep.” She says, pulling away and standing up. She gestures to the bed and smiles. “Promise I won’t take off without you. Get some real sleep.”

—

She’s not there when he wakes up. He panics for a moment, rushing to the window to make sure the truck is still there. It is, but she could have just left it and taken another car.

He pulls on his pants and shirt and practically trips down the stairs, earning several alarmed looks from the nearby Cougars.

“Where’s Bailey?” He says to the room, staring around until someone raises a shy hand to point outside.

A small figure sits at the edge of the hot springs, legs disappearing over the edge and into the water.

He takes a deep breath and steps outside, waving awkwardly when she glances back at him.

“I said I’d still be here.” She says softly, swishing her feet in the water.

“I guess you did.” Hurk replies, sitting down heavily next to her.

“You ever wish for something bad to happen, just because you want to prove to people that you can handle it, and then regret it the moment it comes true?” She asks, suddenly very still and very serious.

“Can’t say that I have, Ladybug.” He replies, because he doesn’t know the right answer. Doesn’t know if she even knows it.

“I have.” She says, kicking one foot out of the water so that the spray hits them both. “And I regret it. I regret a lot of things. And I wish I could take it back.” Her foot lands back in the water with a splash. “But I can’t take it back. You can’t take shit back, Hurk. No matter how much you hope and you pray and you wish, it doesn’t change anything. It’s done and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She turns to face him then, staring into his eyes and making him suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

“Bailey, I don’t know what —“

She kisses him. Just snaps forward like a snake, grabs the back of his neck with one hand and a fistful of hair on the side of his head in the other, and kisses him so hard their teeth clash, pinching his bottom lip between them and breaking skin. The bright taste of his own blood on his tongue surprises him, has him pulling back and gasping for air and apologizing for everything under the sun all at once.

He freezes, staring at her and the hurt and regret that slowly blooms in her eyes, and he hates that he’s caused it. Before he can talk himself out of it, he takes a deep breath and leans forward and kisses her back, a soft press of his lips to hers, chaste and sweet. She makes a soft, content sound in her throat, the hand gripping his hair loosening as she relaxes, her other hand sliding to cup his jaw as he smiles against her lips.

—

They don’t talk about it. Bailey offers no explanation as to why she’d kissed him, no comment about him kissing her back, and Hurk is too scared to ask. Too scared of breaking her trust. Too scared of losing their friendship. It was probably the beer he thinks he’d tasted on her lips. She’d been buzzed and stressed and he’d simply been there.

But then he finds himself grabbing her waist and pulling her back into cover yet again, baring his teeth and growling something about her being a crazy fucking bitch. She fights him, knocking them both off balance and onto the floor of the abandoned house the Peggies have them cornered in, and they both freeze when he raises up onto his elbows and looks down at her.

It’s Hurk’s turn to scramble away this time, ignoring the shock on her face as he turns and takes cover behind the sofa.

“Hurk?” She mumbles later as they’re poking through the bodies for money and ammo.

“What’s up, Ladybug?” He asks, distracted by the Clutch Nixon bottle opener he’d just pulled out of one of the dead Peggies’ pockets.

“Thanks for earlier, I guess.” She replies, almost too quietly to hear. He glances up at her and smiles.

“Don’t mention it, amigo.” He says, then pockets the bottle opener and goes back to searching Peggies.

—

“You okay, honey? You seem distracted.”

Hurk looks up from the bottle opener he’d been turning over in his hands and sighs.

“Yeah, mama. I’m fine.” He replies.

“Bullshit.” Adelaide snorts. She sits down next to him on the dock and bumps his shoulder with hers. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’. Really.”

“I know that look, Hurky.” She says, pulling off one boot and dipping her foot in the water. “It ain’t nothin’. So tell your mama what’s goin’ on in that crazy little head a’ yours.” Hurk snorts and puts the bottle opener back in his pocket.

“Got a stupid-ass crush on a girl.” He says after a moment. “She’s way the fuck outta my league, though. I just wish I could stop thinkin’ about her.”

“She like ya back?”

“Hell if I know.” Hurk snorts. “No, I don’t think she does.”

“Why don’t you try askin’ her, Hurky?” Adelaide says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Here’s a secret, honey. You just gotta talk to her, and then listen when she talks. That’s all a girl ever really wants.” She stands up then and steps back into her boot. “Life was short before these cult assholes showed up. It’s even shorter now. You like a girl, then you better go tell her. Before one or both of ya gets killed.”

“Wow. Gee thanks, mama.”

[julietpeverxll-blog]

JULIET PEVERELL (ROTHSCHILD), 17

She wears strength and darkness equally well, the girl has always been half goddess, half hell.

 ⚜️ THE BASICS

Nickname: Jules, but only by those that are close to her, and J by Gossip Witch but otherwise Juliet. Gender: Female Date of Birth: 16th July Place of Birth: Paris, France Nationality: French Ethnicity: Celtic Accent: English, with a hint of French although she can speak perfect Queen's English

Blood Status: Pureblood, although the Peverell line has been entangled with Veelas from many years ago which gives each descendant a slightly ethereal look but this is one of the family secrets that isn't known at all.

⚜️ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Lily James Hair: Blonde Eyes: Hazel Green Height: 5'10 Weight: 55 kg Body: Juliet has a lilthe and petite figure, having always had a slim and athletic physique. Any Scars/ Marks?: She has a circular birthmark upon the small of her back that she was born with. Any Tattoos/ Piercings?: None.

Style: Juliet keeps up with the most recent fashions, usually wearing designer wear and occasionally mixing it up with whatever she'll find in someone else's closet. She is usually quite fluid with her style, and you can occasionally see her wear something that's more 'comfortable' rather than is most fashionable. However when she dresses for an event, she'll be dressed wearing something most likely designed custom just for her, adorned by family jewels. She enjoys wearing different rings, and most days she'll be wearing at least two rings one of which is a family heirloom with a small cursive writing of Peverell on the inside of the gold ring. In terms of other jewellery she'll usually wear different types of necklaces, bracelets or bangles depending on her mood or outfit.

Additional Information: N/A

⚜️ PERSONALITY:

Strengths:

- intelligent, idealistic, observant, hard working, charismatic, educated, enigmatic, perceptive, diligent, imaginative, protective, loyal, cultured, charming, refined, ambitious, focused, confident, perfectionist, astute, intuitive, insightful.

Passionate — For the things that Juliet loves, she is incredibly passionate about them and could talk about them all days on end. She will often talk nonsense and ramble on about random facts or things that she's discovered in the library (something that used to amuse Francois very much so), forgetting to see if the person she is talking to is even vaguely or remotely interested in the subject she will be speaking about. This will consist of Juliet speaking at rapid paces about something she finds absolutely fascinating; displaying her very passionate nature.

Intelligent – Juliet is incredibly intelligent because of the amount of education she had when she grew up which led her to be able to easily remember and recall facts. This meant that when she was to do tests, her photographic memory easily allowed her to write down all that was needed in order to pass with flying colours. Despite this, many would think that Juliet would take the easy road and decide to not study and take the passing marks, but instead she strives to push herself so that she will extend herself.

Hardworking – Juliet has never known an easy path. Growing up with her curse has meant that she almost didn’t survive as a child, and is something that she constantly reminds herself. She considers herself lucky that she is alive, and is never going to let go nor forget this. It is why she will always be driven and work hard in all tasks, never choosing to take the easy path out of anything, be little or big. She may not be as gifted magically like some of her peers, but in the end her intellect and her determination takes her far, and might be something that allows her to surpass them.

Weaknesses:

- sarcastic, cynical, blunt, manipulative, stubborn, introvert, (when her family demands it ; detached, cruel, ruthless — but she seldom displays her much darker nature)

Frail — When Juliet hasn't taken care of herself properly (which she forgets to do sometimes and that's why Alexi is such a blessing in her life) and forgets to eat or she isn't sleeping enough it can mean that she can easily faint at any second. It would be unsurprising to find Juliet laying down in one of the corners of the castle, slumped over because she hasn't done one of those two things. However her blood curse also means that she has a sickly health, and despite her enjoyment of outdoor activities like Quidditch and horse back riding, she can only often do them for a short period of time before having to rest.

Awkward — There are times when it seems that Juliet becomes awkward in situations. She is not fully in touch with all of the human emotions so she'll come off as not being able to understand other people when they come to her overly upset or distressed. Perhaps this was because of her upbringing which demanded that she become detached from her emotions but she sometimes won't understand people and their overemotional states.

Stubborn – One could say that Juliet is strong-willed and stubborn upon her ways. But this is due to her vast knowledge within many topics, and will be why she will stay stuck within her decisions. Utilising her sharp intellect, she will often more than not employ it to try and convince others to agree with her own opinion, as she ever so rarely is wrong, and therefore will often become persistent to lure others to agree with her words. She won’t necessarily start an argument – it is not within her nature to do so, but it is more of her to utilise her remarks and comments to try and influence others to agree with her beliefs.

Headcanon: Juliet has always been one that gets along with most people at Hogwarts. As a Ravenclaw it means that she isn't part of the usual Slytherin verses Gryffindor rivalry that occurs with many of the students, having befriended many students across the different houses.

Theme Song: Fight Song by Rachel Platten

⚜️ QUIRKS/MANNERISMS:

When Juliet gets nervous she has this habit of twirling her fingers or her hair, and it has become so habitual that she won't even realise that she's doing it

Juliet's natural fluent tongue is French so sometimes she'll think in French before manually translating it into English when she responds (and when she gets shocked she'll say a French phrase or two of swearing)

She has this habit of stealing her friends jumpers and wearing them

She rarely will lose her temper unless she is incredibly irate, and this will usually be directed towards people that hurt her close friends or family

Habits:

- Juliet sometimes will drift out of the conversation and will zone out of what is actually happening before being poked or prodded out of her imagination by one of her friends

- She will always carry at least one book around with her because she never knows when she'll have the chance to read and gain more knowledge

- Juliet will always have tangled headphones, spending at least a decent amount of time untangling them before she can finally use it - this is why Alexei bought her wireless headphones so she didn't have to do it anymore

- She enjoys to spend her time outside, and sometimes  will sit on the grass outside Hogwarts doing her homework, because she enjoys it, and God forbid she sometimes wander outside without shoes on

 Skills/ Talents:

- A skilled horse back rider, despite her blood curse as she grew up with a love of horses and often rode on her family's property (especially loving show jumping and cross country and the thrill of soaring over the fences despite the warnings)

- Can speak multiple muggle languages such as French, Italian, Russian, German and a couple others

- Skilled musician especially in piano and violin

- Very good memory and it seems like its photographic and she can easily recall certain facts

- For some reason Juliet is quite gifted with wandless magic and this ties into her being able to somehow do telekinesis very well although it can lead her to be quite tired after doing it for extended amounts of time

- She is also good at wordless magic

- She has a naturally very strong mind and thus has very strong occlumency barriers

- She has a slight veela allure, which will sometimes mean that people will stop and stare at her, and is something she cannot control

- She seems to have Veela abilities that have only been triggered once but means that if she is extremely angered or emotionally unstable it means that she will cause massive magic destruction and black out without remembering it (thus do not anger her if you would like not to be injured in the aftermath) 

Any mental health issues :N/A

Favorite Quotes/ Sayings that your character would use:

"Um Alexi..I have something to tell you and it's kinda important, and I dunno how to say it. So I'm just gonna blurt it out. I kinda like you." *she runs away after saying this*

"Come on, it won't be /that/ bad!" - to Theo

"I'll be fine, I promise!" - to anyone who's concerned about her looking like she's about to faint and she just wants to go to Hogsmeade

"Tu m'as fait peur!" - you scared me

"Adelaide /please/, for once can you go bother Rhiannon instead of meddling yet again?" - to Adelaide (which never works)

Additional Information: What isn't known to anyone at all except Theo and Alexi is the reasons surrounding Juliet's transfer to Hogwarts in her second year after originally attending Beauxbatons. In her first year when she received the news about Francois's death, she triggered her accidental magic which caused a minor collapse of one of the sides of the castle. She fears that day because it was one of the ones that she felt so much anger, rage and sadness that it bubbled up and caused an accident which resulted in her unconscious at the scene surrounded by several other injured students. As soon as her parents found out they immediately blamed it upon unknown causes, although the school had threatened to expel Juliet for her actions (thinking that she had done it on purpose — injuring those students because she chose to, when she would never do that). Thus her parents decided to transfer her to Hogwarts under the public reasons so that she would be closer with her cousins, when truthfully the school was going to expel her (they could have donated a library to smooth things over but they decided it was better to start over with people who wouldn't remember what Juliet had accidentally done). Although the Peverell family were secretly pleased at Juliet's actions, they were displeased that she had caused such a public scandal in France, deciding that the best situation was to remove her. Ever since then she fears the day that her emotions will take over and that she will accidentally trigger it again, and it is why she has tried to be detached from her emotions, although this doesn't work (and can be awkward at times when people become overemotional.)

⚜️ BIOGRAPHY

 Likes: flowers, outdoors, books, reading, geography, history — especially of the muggle world, jewellery, fashion (especially a set of designer heels), chanel perfume, horse riding, music, piano, violin, stars, astrology, art, tea, chai lattes, binge watching muggle shows, silence, exploring the muggle world.

Dislikes: pureblood supremacy, death eaters, slytherin propaganda, being cruel, sadism, apathy, condescension, pureblood balls, when she has to be a "proper pureblood lady", her parents at times, sympathy and pity.

Hobbies: quidditch — she enjoys playing catcher, horse riding, reading, being with friends, playing her musical instruments, learning more about the muggle world — especially reading about their history which she finds absolutely fascinating, exploring gardens.

Any health problems? (allergies, illnesses, etc): Cursed with blood malediction.

 ♣️ Family Background: A once prominent dynasty that had faded into ruins. Or so many thought. Perhaps to the muggles they would only recognise the name Rothschild, or Capetian whilst those with magical power would know of the name Peverell. The House of Rothschild originated as branch of the Capetian dynasty and it was through their varied connections that sought them to gain political power in first Paris, which spread to the rest of France and Europe – and as it would become, global domination. Controlling their city’s government from behind the smokescreen, the family thrived and it was under their power that the family succeeded in both the muggle and magical world through their deep machinations. Whilst perhaps unconventional for such a medieval wizarding family, the Peverell’s had always grown up in both worlds – both the magical and the mundane. Whilst they certainly preferred the superior way of the magical, they respected the way that the muggles were able to develop such inventions to protect themselves, developing technology in ways the magical world could not even comprehend. Thus, they saw a need to infiltrate both worlds, in order to truly reign supreme. They sought not to control power in such an obvious way like the muggle Prime Ministers, or the Minister for Magic, but rather to utilise individuals like figures upon a chessboard, moving them to how they saw fit.

The family had two branches – the magical and the mundane. For those who were born to become a squib, they were given the surname of Rothschild, whilst those that had magic were given Peverell. This allowed them to permeate into both spheres of influence, trickling in whilst no one noticed. Neither child would be treated to be superior over the other, especially when each had their own role to play in order to further the family’s power. Heeding their founding father’s words, they utilised this method throughout the centuries so that no one could truly realise how much power they held within their fingers, as they faded behind the scenes to take their place omnisciently. However, this perception changed with the birth of Juliet. Although it became evident that she had magic, it seemed that there was something not quite right with their daughter. She seemed to be rather sickly as a child, and it meant that many times she could not play with her older brother and her other cousins. She was a frail child that had to spend her times indoors, choosing to read stories from the books in her father’s library in order to create the illusion that she was outside. It was not till Juliet was five years old that Juliet’s father Nikolai realised that his daughter had been cursed with blood malediction, something that was caused by her mother’s side.

♣️ Family Affiliation: The Peverell family have always been affiliated for the Sacred 28 families, but also to Slytherin and Pureblood supremacy (that is the facade that many people see, little do they know how entangled the Peverell family is with the muggle world though.)

Socio-economic status: Richer than you could even imagine.

 ♣️ Family Members:

▪️ Relation: Brother

Francois Peverell / Lucky Blue Smith

- Age ; N/A

- Profession ; N/A

- Status ; Deceased

▪️ Relation: Mother

Rosaria Peverell née Medici / Charlize Theron

- Age ; 50

- Profession ; Respected member of the Wizarding community and believes in pureblood supremacy.

- Status ; Alive

▪️ Relation: Father

Julien Peverell / Colin Firth

- Age ; 47

- Profession ; Respected member of the Wizarding community and pulls many strings within the muggle world due to the Rothschild side of the family.

- Status ; Alive

 ♣️ What is your character's relationship with their family? Juliet is slightly estranged from her parents because they consider her to be quite a nuisance of a child because of her blood malediction curse. However she is still a Peverell so to any outsider she looks like she is a beloved child, that thrived in such a family. She rarely has any contact with her parents and is much closer to all of her cousins, especially Theo. He is like an older brother figure to her, and is one that she treasures especially.

♣️ Which family member does your character feel the closest to? Originally Juliet was closest to her eldest brother Francois, but this was until he died from an attack to the Rothschild family, as someone discovered that he was actually a Rothschild and planned to attack their side through Francois. Now she is closest to Theo in her family, and he is like a brother figure to her; and Francois's death is one of the reasons why she is so protective over her family and her closest friends. She'd fight to the death for any of them.

Happiest Memory: Juliet's happiest memory is one of the moments when she was younger which she spent with her brother. He was the one who taught her first spell which was lumos. He took the time to explain the purpose of the spell and encouraged her to take his wand and try and cast the spell. At first nothing happened, but due to his encouragement she eventually was able to produce a small light and for the first time since she had been diagnosed with her curse she felt like she had accomplished something.

Saddest Memory: When Juliet found out that her elder brother Francois had died from an owl in her first year from her parents, it felt like all the walls had shattered around her. It was the first time she had activated her veela abilities and accidentally attacked multiple students, injuring them in the abandoned classroom, when for the first time she felt such anger and rage from the news of Francois's death. It was a day that she'll always remember, and something that slightly frightens her in what could possibly happen if she loses control of her emotions again.

 How does your OC feel about pureblood supremacy?: Juliet thinks that pureblood supremacy is a ridiculous notion, partly because of how she was brought up to value both muggles and purebloods — but for a completely different reason. Her family has always been powerhungry and are intelligent enough to see how they could manipulate both sides by being entangled with both. However she doesn't see the point of pureblood supremacy because she thinks that all human lives are equal, and thus thinks it shouldn't exist at all.

How does your OC feel about muggles/ half-bloods? Juliet has always been fascinated by muggles and their technology, always having used it since she was born. She thinks that they are incredibly intelligent with their creations, and feels the same about them as she would with anyone; that they are just as important as one another. She doesn't see any difference between a muggle, halfblood and pureblood.

Does your OC think they should be a part of the magical community? She doesn't mind if they should be part of the magical community at all, but she does think that before they become part of the community that they should take the time to understand one another since the muggle and magical world have very different customs and what they are used to.

Quick facts: Since Rosalie had originally been a Greengrass, it seemed that with Juliet’s birth had meant a resurface of the blood curse that had not been seen in many generations. This meant that Juliet was something of a stain upon the family, because she could not help further the family’s cause and hindered it more as not a true witch. Perhaps it would have been kinder if she had been born a muggle instead, but it seemed she was stuck as inbetween as a frail witch. Unfortunately as Juliet grew up, she needed much more care and attention than her older sibling Francois, which resulted in a lot of irritation on her parent’s behalf. She received much unkind treatment from both her mother and her father who were disappointed in the fact that their child had something that prohibited her to be able to function normally. And although she was a woman, they knew that not many families would want to have their daughter because of her curse that caused her to be weak. After all, what pureblood family would want the chance of perhaps no heir if their mother could be quite fragile at times, weakened by bouts of attacks. Thankfully although Juliet did not receive much maternal nor paternal care, her eldest brother took it upon himself to care for his younger sister.

Her idealistic and charismatic nature softened him that the times spent with her allowed what his parents perceived as his weaker side to appear. Juliet cherished the times he spent with her, as he helped her with her first spell to bringing back different books that she had not read from the Hogwarts library. Juliet had been rather lonely in her isolation at home, and although she was taught the conventional lessons of being a proper pureblooded lady, she yearned for more. She wished that her parents could accept her for who she was, but also that she would be able to travel the world. The stories she read from the books that her brother brought back as well as the ones she read from her father’s library allowed her to discover a world she could only dream of. However this would have to wait, as she finally reached the age to attend Hogwarts. As Juliet’s name was read out to go towards the sorting hat, her fingers trembled as she walked upon the stage. She could hear the whispers spreading throughout the room as they looked upon her, having heard the rumours of the sickly Peverell girl. Just let them see the real me, she thought as her smile began to beam at the call of Ravenclaw.

She had always had the slight fear she would be sort into Slytherin like much of her family before her, but it seemed that the Hat had seen her love of books overcoming any other aspects of her nature. Although she was well acquainted with many of her Slytherin peers from pureblood balls at a young age, she had never become particularly close to any of them, apart from her cousin Theo. Perhaps this was because they shunned her because of her curse, or because she was perceived to be weaker than them but these only made her stronger. And pushed her to become the individual she is today. As Juliet nears the ending of her schooling she has heard the whispers of the different sides calling towards her. Truth be told she fears war and what it will bring. For so long she has relied upon books to create the illusions and world where she can escape reality. But this time she is uncertain that she will be able to do so.

Additional Information: N/A

 ⚜️ HOGWARTS INFORMATION

House: Ravenclaw

Year: 7

Best Class(s): Most of Juliet's classes are her best because she has always understood theory and content very well. However sometimes it can be more difficult for her to produce this practically because magic can exert a lot of energy from her. That is why it is easier for her to actually do wandless and wordless magic where she is able to utilise her imagination and not have to use a focal point in order to create magic. Her best classes would most likely be Potions and DADA, because she has always had the biggest interest in both of these subjects.

Worst Class(s): As a typical Ravenclaw, Juliet has always scored well in all her classes, but her worst class would most likely be History because she doesn't think that Professor Binns is that interesting a Professor despite still doing well in exams.

Any Pets?: A white owl named Persephone

Reputation at Hogwarts: Juliet has always been someone that befriended different types of individuals within Hogwarts. She is one of the rare students that has friends from the different houses; even if they aren't necessarily pureblood. She has a reputation for being one of the kinder purebloods despite still being close friends with many of the ones that have a more terrifying reputation.

 ▪️ Is your OC based on one of the character archetypes? If so, which one: Eric van der Woodsen!

▪️ If not, please write a 2-4 sentence tagline for your OC: N/A

Additional Information: N/A 

⚜️ INDIVIDUAL MAGIC

Wand: Elm with a core of Dragon Heartstring, Unyielding at 11”

Red Oak – "You will often hear the ignorant say that red oak is an infallible sign of its owner’s hot temper. In fact, the true match for a red oak wand is possessed of unusually fast reactions, making it a perfect duelling wand. Less common than English oak, I have found that its ideal master is light of touch, quick-witted and adaptable, often the creator of distinctive, trademark spells, and a good man or woman to have beside one in a fight. Red oak wands are, in my opinion, among the most handsome."

Wand Core: Dragon Heartstring – “As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts , though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.”

Wand Flexibility: Unyielding – “A wand of this flexibility finely tunes itself to its original owner’s preferences and doesn’t stray from those preferences, even in the hands of a new owner; the new owner will just have to get used to it. It is particularly good for combative and healing magic. Unyielding wand owners tend to be very confident in themselves and/or in the things they believe in. They tend to be intelligent, somewhat cynical, and usually have well-defined principles that they will not stray from ever. Sometimes, this combination can lead to arrogance because of them insisting on how right they  are without considering other points of view or whether or not they might be wrong. 

Wand Length: 11"

Patronus: "Raven’s are a bit like watchers of the night, quiet and observant, waiting for the precise moment to show themselves. Chances are they don’t want you to see them, then you want, as they are very good at hiding themselves. Equally, they can be incredibly charismatic when they need or want something, swooping in out of nowhere and shocking you with their mysterious presence. They have a fire to them that represents their need for freedom, and this mostly coincides with their somewhat greedy nature. They are inwardly emotional, and can turn off what they are feeling almost as a switch, if need be. The most common house for a raven patronus is Slytherin. The most common signs are Scorpio and Libra.” 

Having found this spell at a younger age than most within a book in father’s study, Juliet quickly learned upon the properties of the spell, and it was due to this that led her to seek to conquer the famed patronus spell. She had heard of it before from her brother, describing its contents and she had always wondered what it would be like to have an animal appear out of your wand, being able to send messages. It took her awhile to master the spell, unlike many of the spells she had learnt of previously – not understanding about having the happiest thoughts. Eventually as she was able to cast the spell to emit a certain sliver of silver, it was at this that Juliet understood how to cast the spell – practicing it down until she was able to get it to corporeal form. To her surprise it was the patron animal of her own house – a raven.

Boggart: Juliet has often feared that she will be cast out of her family and be removed because of her inferiority to her other cousins and older brother because of her blood curse. She fears the day she loses her last name, where she will be all alone, with no one to possibly turn to at all. The image she sees is her being cast off of her family tree — being burnt off.

Amortentia: fresh ink, old books, chai tea blend, cypress wood

Affinity to any particular magic? Wandless and wordless magic.

Additional Information: N/A

[reapers-carino]

May I request a poly Roadrat where they have triplets? Two girls and a little boy, who Jamie likes to call his little ankle biter.

“Ada! Cel! Kai! You three off of the counter right now!”

Your hands were on your hips, eyes narrowed as you stared your three two-year olds down, their eyes round as they looked back at you guiltily. Never in your life could you believe there would be anyone who could usurp Jamison ‘Junkrat’ Fawkes as the troublemakers of your family but your three rugrats proved your assumptions wrong effortlessly. A part of you figured that the way the three of you worked had been somehow genetically passed down into your children; the three always having one another’s backs, getting into as much trouble as they got one another out of. But you couldn’t fault them for it, it soothed something in your heart to know that despite all that the three of you had been through, despite the fact that you all had lived with targets on your backs, trusting no one but each other (until Overwatch’s recall), that they would have someone to rely on. Each other. As endearing as you found it, they still managed to drive you up the wall…even if they were using their patented puppy dog faces.

Adelaide, Celyn and Kai Fawkes-Rutledge, born on a comfortably warm Tuesday, March 4th 2079. Adelaide had Jamison’s bright amber eyes while Celyn had Mako’s gray and Kai possessed your brown. Kai’s hair was damn near snow white when you had given birth but had darkened to Jamie’s straw blonde, Adelaide and Celyn’s hair black as night like Mako’s used to be. All three of them were now covered in freckles, the melanated spots claiming more and more surface area as the days went along. Their cheeks were still full and rounded, often stuffed with treats or sweets like they had been trying to attain from the kitchen counter. The three of them quickly scrambled down and off the chair, each of them possessing enough humility to have their heads dipped down guiltily.

“Now my three little monkeys”, you teased, crouching down so that you could see them face to face. Their eyes dipped down but you didn’t miss their soft giggles and smiles that tugged at their lips. Adelaide’s hands jumped up, covering her lips to hide her grin. “What have I said about climbing on things? You want to fall and bump your heads?”

For good measure you lightly tapped all three of them on the head with your closed fist, each of them giving an exaggerated ‘ouch’ before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“You’d break daddy’s and papa’s and mommy’s heart”, you sighed dramatically, placing your hand over your heart and falling back onto your kitchen floor. The three kids surged forward, all laughter and kisses and hugs and ‘oh no, we gotta fix mama’. Resisting the urge to giggle yourself, you threw your arm to the side, the back of your hand hitting the floor with a soft thwack. Celyn pulled your arm up only for it to fall back to the floor with a thunk, your eyes closed tight and tongue hanging from your mouth. That sent them into another fit of titters as they circled around you, playfully lifting your arm and poking at your cheek, Kai going as far to ‘carefully’ push your eyelid up.

“Welly welly well…what do we got here?”

One of your eyes peeked open, catching sight of Jamison, the man grinning, amber eyes glowing mirthfully. He was shirtless and his sleep shorts hung low on his hips, his hair somehow more mussed than normal. The three of you often played these dramatic little games with the kids, your triplets absolutely eating up and enjoying how playful and reactive you could be. The three of you reacted to one another effortlessly, so he began to play along, face morphing into one of faux concern.

“They’ve killed me”, you stated simply as he moved further into the kitchen, faking a pretend sob as he crouched down next to you. “Broke my heart right in two! Trying to climb up on the counter, scared me half to death! Boohoohoohoo!”

“Mama don’t cry! It’s okay!”

“You’re okay, you’re okay!”

“Sorry mama, we’re sorry!”

You took a dramatic breath in, winking at Jamison before sitting all the way up and opening both of your eyes.

“I’m alive again”, you say, throwing your arms wide and almost getting barreled over before Jamie caught you, sitting directly behind you. The kids pressed sloppy kisses to your cheeks and you and Jamie ruffled their hair.

“Papa we saved mama”, Celyn exclaimed looking over your shoulder and up, their name for Mako making you tilt up. He was still dressed in his pajamas, sweatpants and a large t-shirt with a Mickey Mouse face on it. He was maskless as he tended to be more after the birth of the kids, a playfully look in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips.

“Lil anklebiters killed her but brought her right back like Ang does yeah”, Junkrat teased playfully as Mako moved further into the kitchen, making it only a step in before Kai threw himself at Roadhog’s ankle and wrapping his arms tight around his thick, sweatpants covered calf. “You lot got magic, huh?”

“Nope for mama only!”

“Yep for mama!”

“Sorry daddy!”

Mako snorted and you fell into a fit of laughter as Jamison shot his kids a betrayed look, no real hurt behind his gaze only play.

“Well that ain’t fair”, Junkrat whined, huffing heavily, the arms wrapped around his waist crossing across your center.

“Neither is life”, you intoned with giggle and a shrug of your shoulders.

“She’s right Rat”, Mako answered as he began to open and close the cabinets, pulling various items out and setting them on the counter.

All the while, Kai held on, giggling as Mako made exaggerated movements for his son’s sake. Adelaide still sat curled up in your lap, playing with your hair while Celyn was standing to the side, sympathetically patting her father’s face with her hand as she tried to soothe his pouting. Warmth spread throughout your chest, cheeks glowing with happiness as you peered around at your family, happy and giggling and together. This was greater than any heist or treasure you three had stolen, better than any sight you had seen on your travels. 

Mako was still Roadhog, a force of destruction to be reckoned with, deadly and ruthless on the field when on missions. Jamison was still Junkrat, the crazed demolitions expert who could create bombs and explosives with a practiced expertise, chaotic and haphazard. But Mako was also Papa, the man who made breakfast almost daily and cuddled with the best of them and couldn’t say no to the teary puppy dog face he knew the kids were manipulating him with. Jamison was daddy, the best storyteller in the whole world, who created bath bombs that bubbled and glittered and filled the tub with swirling colorful suds, and gave the best ‘airplane’ rides. You all had found your niche, found your place. This was home and this was perfect.

“Pancakes”, Mako asked, but more or less indicated that he was already making them, more or less asking if anyone would like to help.

“Yes!”

“I love pan-cakes!”

“I  wanna stir!”

“No no I wanna!”

“Me me me!”

“Papa lemme stir!”

You laughed as all three of the kids clambered off of you and towards Mako, the man already having three small bowls and spoons to separate their own batter and add-ins into. Leaning back into Jamie, still on the floor you gave a soft sigh, the kids climbing into their seats as Mako gave instructions on what to do and how to help.

“This…is the life.”

[deannachu]

Going Viral

Prompt: You just went viral on YouTube. Your video is the most viewed video now. But now your videos are being linked to the murders of dozens.

Challenge: To write a prompt a day for the entirety of November.

If someone had told Adelaide that she would be sitting in a police station on her 21st birthday being asked question after question about a string of murders that somehow involved her, she would have probably laughed, rolled her eyes, and told them to stop doing drugs. Yet, here she was, sitting in the cold, hard chair underneath harsh lights and the disbelieving stares of two meaty police officers. She could swear she smelled what she thought was a foul coffee and bologna breath from one of them, and... was that powdered sugar on the corner of the other one's lips? She scoffed outwardly and chuckled to herself.

"Something funny, girl?" barked Powdered Sugar cop. His badge said "Officer Dixon" but she was going to refer to him as Powdered Sugar cop. It was much funnier.

"You think murdering six people is funny?" spat Bologna cop, or "Officer Ryan" as his badge stated. "Clearly you must feel no remorse for butchering up those teenagers because you're in here, being questioned by the police, and laughing." Adelaide moved to hold up her hands in defense, but strained against the metal chair where she was handcuffed. Jerks.

"For the thousandth time, I did not murder twelve people," she shouted, startling the cops into jumping about five steps back. "You people claim you have all this evidence that I'm the only murdering these teenagers; so, where is it? What is your rock solid beyond-a-reasonable-doubt proof that I'm capable of murdering somebody?" The two cops glanced at her and then at each other, both wearing an identical smirk. Adelaide knew that smirk well; it was the "I know more than you" smirk that she had to endure her entire childhood from her older brother, and then in high school from the annoying Lucas who, just barely, beat her out for valedictorian. She hated that smirk.

Officer Powdered Sugar knocked on the door leading out of the room and someone on the other side opened it just enough to hand him a laptop. Oh joy, she thought. I think I know where this is going. "Are we going to watch cat videos?" she asked lightly, keeping her eyes on the laptop. Officer Bologna opened it up and typed a little, the clicks filling the room. He spun it around after a second and there, on the screen, was Adelaide. "Oh are you guys fans of my video?"

The two officers looked at each other and sighed, sitting down on either side of her. "This video was found playing at each murder scene, along with pictures of you and other items that referenced either you or your video in some way. It, aside from the same murder weapon being used at each crime, is the only thing connecting them. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah, whoever killed those kids is a huge fan of my work." Adelaide's defense mechanism in stressful situations is humor and sarcasm, and she could see it was irritating the officers. "But since it's the only other thing connecting the murders, you think I'm the one killing them, right? Like I'd be stupid enough to commit a crime and leave a fucking calling card. You've got to do much better than that. I graduated second in my class; I'm a Criminal Justice major, for crying out loud. Rule number one of any crime is to not leave anything that could connect you to it, dumb-asses. Or did you fall asleep in your CSI classes?"

"I know you're tied to these murders one way or another, little girl-" started Officer Bologna but Adelaide had had enough.

"I am not a little girl, you pig-headed sweat stain," she yelled back, straining against the handcuffs. "Now if that's all you think you have, clearly that's not enough to charge me with anything, so you have to let me go."

"Afraid not." The officers stood up, each making their way to the door. "We can detain you for 48 hours, which is exactly what we are going to do. But here," Officer Powdered Sugar pushed the laptop towards Adelaide and uncuffed one of her hands, "maybe watching your video on repeat will be enough to get you to confess. After all, 48 hours is a long time to sit in a room watching the same video over, and over, and over." The two officers departed and all was silent. She stared at the laptop and the video pulled up, frozen on Adelaide's laughter.

--

Seventy-two hours ago, Adelaide had been a normal college student. She lived in an on-campus apartment with her two best friends, Iris and Sydney. She worked part time in the school library and part time making sandwiches at a local deli place. She was in all honors courses, president of two clubs, and was dedicated to graduate top of her class here. She never did drugs, never drank, and never went to parties. She just didn't really have the interest or time to do any of that. However, Iris had talked her into coming with her and Sydney to a frat party that was being held that night. Iris was crushing really hard on one of the brothers in the house and he had invited her, Sydney, and Adelaide to go. Of course, she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Come on," Iris begged, literally on her knees in front of Sydney and Adelaide. The two girls looked at each other and then at their best friend who was groveling. "I don't want to go by myself. I need my wing women."

"All that's going to happen is people are going to play shitty rap music, get drunk or high, and probably break a lot of shit," Sydney responded.

"And have sex. That's always a given at these things," Adelaide added, smirking a little bit. Iris rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Please? We don't have to stay longer than an hour. I just want to check it out, and if everything is going okay you guys can absolutely leave. I'll be fine. I just need that bit of a safety net for a little while, okay? The last frat party I went to by myself did not go well at all. I need you guys." Damn. She was pulling out the doe eyes and the pout and everything to get her and Sydney to agree. It was really hard to say no to Iris. The girl stood maybe 5 feet tall on a good day, with long, curly blonde hair and blue eyes. She seemed like a dwarf compared to Sydney and Adelaide, as each girl had at least 7 inches on her, although they couldn't look more different. Adelaide had dark red hair and green eyes hidden behind what Iris called "hipster glasses" and Sydney had dark purple hair cut to about her shoulders and brown eyes. Sydney was always experimenting with hair color and styles; she could never decide what color she liked the best.

Adelaide sighed and pulled Iris into a hug. "Fine, but only for an hour. If I see or hear something that I don't like, we are leaving. Got it?" She tried to sound stern but had to crack a smile when she saw Iris's face light up with joy.

"Oh, THANK YOU!" she squealed, returning the hug with a hard squeeze. "I can't wait to tell Alex! He's going to be so thrilled. So what do I wear? Ooh, what about that new crop top I bought? The dark blue one with the lace? And my dark jeans! And my new boots I bought. Oh, and how am I going to do my makeup? Do I go bold, or sweet?" Iris rambled to herself as she ran to her room and slammed the door. Sydney looked and Adelaide and shook her head.

"You created a monster," she laughed.

"Yeah, but she's going to knock the pants off of Alex. Probably literally, too. I was with her when she bought that crop top; we better look out for our little Iris tonight," Adelaide responded, walking to her bedroom. She opened her closet and looked at her wardrobe, grimacing at the startling amount of t-shirts she owned. It was going to be a little bit more difficult than she thought to figure out what she was going to wear. She saw her favorite pair of shorts, light denim with a worn look to them, and threw them on her bed. She looked down and picked out a dangerous-looking pair of black heels and added them to the pile. She flipped through her hangers to find the small section of non-tshirt clothing she owned, and noticed a black crop top in the very back. She pulled it out and looked at it, not remembering buying it. There was a knock on the door and Adelaide saw Iris in the doorway.

"That's such a cute top, where did you get it?" she asked, walking in the room. Adelaide shrugged.

"I don't really remember. Must have been a present that I forgot about."

"Well you should totally wear it tonight. I know! All three of us can wear crop tops and heels. We can match, sort of. It'd be great," Iris beamed, sprinting from the room to tell Sydney her idea. The crop top had a little bit of white detail around the bottom and the sleeves and was backless. She sighed and threw it on the bed with the shorts and heels, grabbing a towel and clean underwear and heading into the bathroom to shower.

--

The night itself had been pretty uneventful until about the time that Adelaide was ready to leave. She had decided that Iris was a big girl and would be safe at the party without Sydney and Adelaide hovering over her, though she did pull Alex aside and told him that if Iris got too drunk that he was to promise he would take her back to the apartment. He nodded and looked at Iris who was dancing with Sydney in the living room. Adelaide saw a look of adoration cross his face and knew that she would be in good hands tonight.

She told Sydney she was leaving to walk back to the apartment, saying her goodbyes and heading for the door, when all of a sudden someone in a hockey mask and a machete jumped out from behind a corner, scaring the shit out of her. Her self-defense training kicked in and after the initial shock wore off she punched the guy in the face and kicked his feet out from under him, pointing the heel of her shoe at his groin. The whole party went silent until someone started laughing, which caused everyone in attendance to join in. The hockey mask came off and Adelaide saw her friend Richie clutching his nose and grunting in pain. "What the FUCK, Richie!" she yelled, rearing back to beat him some more. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"Yeah I know, that was kind of the point. I didn't know you had such a strong right hook, holy fuck," he groaned, sitting up and still clutching his nose. She took in the scene before her and couldn't help but laugh. Here was this 6'3" frat boy on the ground after getting his ass handed to him by a girl. He was going to never hear the end of it. Adelaide looked around and noticed a few people recording and silently groaned.

"Please don't tell me this is going on YouTube," she begged.

"Oh hell yeah it is," one of the fraternity brothers laughed. "That was the best thing I'd seen in ages, dude. You're going to go viral for sure."

"Great. Wonderful," she deadpanned. "Now I actually am leaving, unless Michael Myers is waiting for me behind the door or something."

"Nah. Even if he was, I'm sure you'd be able to kick his ass, too," the brother grinned. Adelaide rolled her eyes and flipped him off before walking out of the house into the warm night air.

--

Sure enough, the next day everyone on her friends list had tagged her in the video, and by the end of the day it was the most viewed video on YouTube. All of the comments were positive or funny, though of course there were a few perverted ones mixed in with the rest. Before she went to bed that night she turned on the news, which was part of her bedtime ritual, and settled into the sheets, turning the volume down low.

"Breaking news: police are on the scene of a grisly and brutal murder. Tom, what do we know for sure?" said a concerned newswoman.

"That's right, Diane. The police have responded to this house behind me, home to Lana and Wes Richardson and their two teenage daughters, Alexis and Brittney. It appears the two girls were having a party of some sort while their parents were out and a neighbor called 911 when she heard what she thought sounded like screaming coming from the residence. Inside, police found the brutally mutilated bodies of the two girls along with five of their friends. Tragedy has indeed struck this small town. Back to you Diane."

The next day, Adelaide discussed what she had heard with her friends, the three of them not able to clearly wrap their minds around what kind of person would do such a thing. Sydney, being the type of person who disliked discussing negative or depressing topics, quickly changed the subject.

"So, your birthday is in two days," she grinned at Adelaide. "The big 21. Have you decided what you want to do?"

"My parents want to take me out for dinner, but after that I really don't have any plans," she responded, taking a swig out of her water bottle. Iris and Sydney looked at each other secretively. "No, you two are not throwing a party for me. You remember what happened last year, don't you?"

"So you had way too many tequila shots, tough shit." Sydney waved away her complaint. "We were thinking of going bar hopping, since you'll finally be able to get into them legally."

"Someone has to be DD, then, because I'm not going to go out without someone sober to make sure we get back home in one piece."

"That's fair. I'll ask Alex and see if he'd be willing to do that for us," chirped Iris, pulling out her phone. A few clicks and notifications later, Alex agreed to be the girls' DD for that night. Sydney jumped up from the couch where they were sitting and held out her hand.

"Come on, ladies. Lets go find Addy a birthday outfit."

--

Fast forward to tonight. All Adelaide wanted to do was go out with her friends, have too much to drink, probably drunkenly makeout with a cute guy at a bar, and go home to sleep off what was sure to be a hangover the next day. Her phone constantly blew up with invites from people she had briefly seen around campus, and even some who she had no idea who they were, because of that stupid video. She had seen it be played on various TV stations and websites, and people everywhere seemed to know her name. It was extremely inconvenient when she wanted to be alone with just her schoolwork because people would follow her everywhere, taking pictures and videos at all times. She just wanted to be invisible again.

The girls barely made it outside of the apartment before policemen swarmed them from every angle, guns drawn. "Adelaide Murray?" barked a policeman with a potbelly and a mildly impressive beard.

"Yes?" she asked. "Can I help you?"

"You're under arrest for the murder of twelve teenage girls. Give your purse to your friends and turn around with your hands behind your back," the officer said, moving towards her, gun still drawn.

"Excuse me? Are you serious? I didn't murder anyone!" she yelled. She handed her purse to Iris, whose eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Tell that to a judge," an officer with a permanent scowl said, roughly placing cuffs around her wrists.

Fear and anger and shock flooded through her system. "Call my parents," she told Sydney calmly, being led away by the officer. "Tell them I need a lawyer. Call them now." Sydney nodded and pulled out her phone, unlocking it and dialing the number to Adelaide's father.

Adelaide was placed in the backseat of one of the squad cars. Once inside she noticed all of the media that swarmed around her and her friends. "Adelaide, is it true that you murdered those twelve girls?" screamed one reporter before the door slammed. She could see each reporter yelling questions at her, although the glass muffled their voices and she couldn't make out any specific ones.

The whole ride to the police station, she leaned her head against the window and silently cried. Even though she knew she was innocent, she couldn't help but wonder, Why me?