#travis hackett x OC

[isroji]

Enjoy the silence | Travis Hackett | Chapter I

The sheriff of North kill

Summary: The summer finally arrives and Hackett's quarry opens it doors again. This year, with a new counselor. A pretty pretty particular one. Of course, as everything related to North kill, Travis Hackett ends up involved.

TW: Teen pregnancy, age gap relationship, eventual smut, topics such as immigration mentioned.

Things to know before reading: foreign OC, changes to the original plot.

Author's note: I needed so bad to write about this man. Please keep in mind English is not my first language, so, if you see any kind of grammar mistake, feel free to tell me about it. I hope you enjoy it.

•

—Oh, my little girl...

•

"So... we have a little shy one here, don't we?"

Chris Hackett's words made Camila smile. She moved her head slightly, looking at the little boy who was hiding behind her leg. A gentle hand rested on the child's head, caressing it tenderly.

"Carlos, this is Chris," the girl said, pointing to the man in front of her. "Come on, mi amor, say hi."

Carlitos, as his mother lovingly called him, peeked out one of his small eyes. Compared to him, Chris looked much bigger. He didn't like it when big men approached him and his mother, although he also had some parts of his hair painted white, which reminded him somehow of his grandfather. He waved his little hand in greeting.

"There he is!" Chris exclaimed happily.

Genuine happiness flashed across his eyes. Carlitos' shyness reminded him of his eldest daughter when she was just a little girl. Past times, better times.

Dylan, the boy next to Chris, scratched his neck uncomfortably. He knew how to deal with the children at the camp, but this one here was much smaller.

"So..." He squatted down, wanting to be at the same height as the kid "How old are you?" He asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

Carlos opened the palm of his hand, displaying the number 5. The only three people who heard the child speak were Camila and her grandparents. No one really understood why, but with the others he limited himself to mere physical expressions and whatever his big brown eyes could convey. This being a relief, since he was a very expressive little boy.

"Quite a big boy!" Said Abigail, who, along with the other two girls, seemed delighted by the presence of that boy.

She could already see the image of Carlos showing his hand captured in her drawing notebook.

Babies always caused a sensation among women, Camila knew it. Her's was no longer exactly a baby, but he was quite a cutie. She understood it. If she could, she would also spend the day squeezing those cheeks.

Again, shame flooded Carlos, hiding his face in his mother's leg.

Camila sighed.

"He's a little shy, but I assure you he's very kind. Right, Carlitos?" She asked, continuing with the action of stroking his head.

He nodded. He always got nervous when he had to be around so many people. Especially if they were big people. Lots of eyes on him, lots of attention.

"We are very happy that you have arrived, the other counselor who was supposed to work with you in the nursery has not arrived yet and from the looks of it, she will not." Chris spoke, finally bringing the important topic to the table; the job.

Camila clicked her tongue.

"Looks like it'll just be you and me in the infirmary, baby." She commented to his son.

Carlitos, with his face protected by his mother's leg, smiled. He liked being her assistant.

Ryan, the only one who hadn't said a single word in all this time, finally entered to the conversation.

"Actually, another counselor is also missing..." He sounded almost sorry. Kept looking at Carlos.

He was part of that group that didn't really know how to deal with the 5-year-old boy. Preteens were simple. He told them his horror stories and let them stay outside at night for 15 more minutes and they already loved him. In this case, he had a little boy just as reserved as him, who also didn't even know how to read or write. Or he did? At what age did children learn to write?

Chris looked at him, as if reproaching the comment. Camila didn't pay attention.

"It's good that there are two of us here." Was her response, making most of those present laugh.

Half joke, half reality. She would be lying if she said this was the first time her son accompanied her to work. Being a young single mother robbed her of many privileges, and the truth is that Carlitos was already more than used to following her everywhere, no matter what job it was.

When the laughter stopped, Chris returned to his usual role.

"Well, guys, no more wasting time. Show Camila and Carlos the cabins and the place in general. Our campers arrive tomorrow and everything must be ready." He ordered, encouraging the young people around him.

Camila, somewhat different from the rest, was very excited to start the work. Unlike the others, this was her first time as a counselor. Everyone already knew the place, except her and her faithful companion. She knew so few places in the country where she lived that this felt like a real adventure.

She took the bags with her. Watching Chris disappear through the door of the large house, she stopped to take a look to her surroundings. Carlitos mentioned when they were on the road that those trees were the biggest he had ever seen, and if she thought about it, believed the same. It was barely 7 in the morning and the sun was already beginning to shine brightly, forcing her to leave her pair of sunglasses on. Being the city girl that she was, she found it annoying how much people from areas like this exaggerated the subject of views and landscapes, but now that she walked among them herself, she admitted that even the colors felt more vivid and beautiful. How happy it made her that her son was going to spend one of his first summers in a place like that.

Lost in the landscape, a male voice brought her back to the moment.

"It's a long walk to the cabins, little friend..." Jacob, the "big guy" of the group, began to speak, addressing Carlos. "Do you want to ride on my shoulders?"

Suddenly, Carlos's shy face lit up. He let go of his mother's hand and ran to Jacob, just as he did with his grandfather, who, when taking him to preschool, also made him sit on his shoulders. Jacob smiled like a child, picking up the little boy as soon as he arrived and placing him on his shoulders.

"It's the best view, right?" He asked, holding the kid's legs firmly.

Camila, partly relieved at how comfortable her son seemed with him and partly anxious about the number of accidents her mind was imagining from such a sudden action, was not too sure about allowing her son to make the walk on Jacob's shoulders, the guy who seemed taken from the American series she watched when she was a teenager.

Jacob, noticing Camila's nervous gaze on him, spoke.

"Don't worry! I have carried much heavier things."

Things, not children. Specifically, not her child.

The blonde who had introduced herself as Emma a few minutes ago suddenly appeared near Camila.

"Don't worry about him, he's harmless," She said in a low, almost confident voice. "Your child will have another child to play with."

Oh, Camila knew it.

"That's precisely what worries me," she admitted, laughing.

The guys around her seemed nice. They all looked equally young, equally inexperienced. She probably looked like that in their eyes too, with the only difference being carrying a little guy at her side and the experience that this brought.

Carlos was always surrounded by teenagers. From his birth, when 17-year-old Camila cradled him in her arms, until today. Her mother's friends were the first babysitters in his life, the exception being when an university teacher would swing his baby carriage when she found Camila asleep in some corner of the classroom. In general, both his mother and his friends grew up with him. All this, being Camila's biggest concern regarding the summer that was coming. She was going to deal with people her own age, but unlike her, they did not yet have the responsibility of a child. Maybe she thought too much, according to Chris this was everyone's second year as monitors, they would already know how to handle the children. She didn't want to be prejudiced, she really didn't, but when it came to caring for her son...

"Calm down, mama bear." Emma whispered, almost reading Camila's thoughts.

She couldn't do anything but smile. It would definitely be a fun summer for her and Carlitos. The best, for sure. She had a feeling that this month and a half would feel like a class on how to stop being an overprotective mom. At least the first step had already been taken.

•

"New counselors?"

Chris Hackett looked away from the papers in his hand, watching his older brother in the doorway. Travis had this ability to appear suddenly, without even a single noise to warn of his presence. The years had gotten him used to it, but from time to time it gave him a little scare.

"Mhmm." Was his response, continuing with the long paperwork that would surely have him sitting there all day.

Could someone tell parents that information documents about their children didn't need to have things like "favorite food"?

Travis walked into the office. Chris couldn't see it, but he was tense. He didn't know how to shake off that discomfort that invaded him every time he had to talk to his brother about that topic, especially when the bad news was included.

A strange throat clearing came from the older one. Chris looked at him again.

This time the youngest Hackett did notice the image of his brother.

"Tell me no one is dead, please." He asked. His voice sounded pleading, matching the tiredness that his gaze conveyed.

Travis looked away. He hated being the bearer of bad news. He knew that from the moment the moon set and the sun gave way to a new day in Northkill, he must have talked to his brother about certain events of the previous night, he knew it. However, he couldn't.

"The counselors you told me about..." He started, but his brother didn't let him continue.

"Bitten? Dead?" He asked, straight to the point.

"Dead. It seems that Silas was on the road last night." He reported, as if it were another of his police reports. It was simpler that way.

If it didn't feel so personal, it didn't matter, right?

Liar. Damn old liar.

Chris sighed, letting his head fall.

Travis, now even more uncomfortable, walked towards one of the windows. Seeing the beauty of the camp where many years ago (too many, if he thought about it) he was so happy, always helped him feel better. However, it was something else that caught his attention. His face wrinkled, looking confused.

"I thought the children were arriving tomorrow..." He mentioned, watching the group of counselors walk.

He doubted his eyesight was failing him. He was more than sure that the one on the boy's shoulders was a kid, and one much smaller than the ones his brother received each year for camp.

Ugh, the camp. Cruel reminder that his job would become more difficult for a month and a half. He didn't like children and their ability to get into trouble.

Chris looked at his brother.

"Yes, they'll arrive tomorrow," he stated, getting up and walking towards the window with Travis. "He is the son of one of my counselors. The one who goes there."

Travis, taking his eyes off the boy and the child, followed his brother's finger until he found the aforementioned. He couldn't help but be surprised. Was he already that old? Or did that girl look exaggeratedly young?

Chris saw the surprise in his brother.

"I know." It was his only comment.

He also had the same expression as Travis when he first met Camila. Everyone, really. The other counselors, although a little less, were also surprised when that small human being appeared holding the girl's hand.

"She doesn't look older than Kaylee." Travis said, still looking at the young woman.

"She is, but only for two years. She is twenty-two." Chris answered.

As soon as his brother mentioned the girl's age, Travis stopped looking at her.

Don't you think you're too old to be seeing twenty-two-year-old girls?

The amount of questions Travis had in his head regarding her vanished. The less he knew, the better. He turned around, walking a couple of steps and leaving the window.

Great, as if it wasn't difficult to take care of teenagers and pre-teens, now he had to take care of that. Little children were a big no for him. Very curious, very easy to lose sight of. He remembered his nephew Caleb in his first years of life and all the scares he gave Chris and Amelia when he decided to play at being an adventurer in the forest.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to have such a young child in Hackett's Quarry?" he asked, back to his usual bitter sheriff appearance.

Chris, still at the window, didn't seem worried.

"You think too much."

His brother's favorite phrase. Travis hated it. It wasn't that he thought too much, it was that he was the only one in his family who thought. Of course, he fixed everything.

Sure, if the kid saw something he shouldn't have, if he got lost where he shouldn't get lost or something happened to him that wasn't supposed to happen to him; It would be his fault. Because, how could Sheriff Hackett let that happen?

The eldest Hackett hastened his departure. He wasn't going to talk to Chris, there was no point. They never listened to him, this wouldn't be the first time. He prayed that this girl would know how to take care of her little... creature.

Creature? Oh, Travis, what's wrong with you?

"Just... Keep the boy away from the forest, okay? Last year it was a pain in the ass to have to look for your lost camper."

And with that, he left. He had bigger problems waiting for him at his police station. Problems that perhaps he should have share with Chris, but he would prefer, of course, to be the one to bear the responsibility.

He did not expect that when he left the house, a meeting with that girl who he had looked so much from the window would be waiting for him.

Camila's big eyes met the tall, strange figure of a police officer. A policeman? It took her mind several seconds to assimilate that yes, she had a police officer in front of her. One too high. Too serious.

Camila, even though she had already passed that moment in her life where she should have had reasons to fear encountering a police officer, still felt a certain unease in their presence. There were no reasons, not anymore, but bad habits were difficult to erase. She didn't know if her face reflected it, but coming across one so abruptly (especially one so visually intimidating) left her in shock for a moment.

Long seconds of silence passed between the two. Travis, without transmitting any emotion in the sight of Camila. And she, of course, looking like a confused mouse in his eyes. He didn't find that reaction new, in fact, it was the most common.

Young and foolish, the older man imagined. How much shine in those scared eyes. Big and shiny.

Camila, seeking to somehow cut the awkwardness of the situation, decided to speak first. It was hard to get the words out of her mouth.

"Um..." She cut herself off, clearing her throat "Hello."

Travis didn't recognize the accent. He knew it wasn't even remotely close to Northkill, but he didn't find it similar to any he'd heard before. It was strong, too strong for such a high voice.

Camila waited for a word from the man, but her wait was in vain. More seconds full of silence and discomfort. Was it her idea or was he terrifying?

"I... I have to..." She didn't know what to say or how to make the moment less strange "Pass? Chris?"

Finally, the policeman in front of her showed signs of life. A raised eyebrow and an obvious what? captured on the man's face made Camila understand that he understood absolutely nothing of what she said. English in itself was difficult for her, in situations like this the concept of fluency was not exactly her strong point.

"I mean, I need to talk to Chris. The owner of the camp?" She said this time, still faltering over the words, but a little more coherent.

Even more doubt. No, that way of pronouncing the words... He didn't find it similar to anything.

Camila didn't know if a divine deity felt pity for her, or if Chris simply heard the strange interaction, but the owner of the camp appeared behind the police officer.

"Chris!" Camila exclaimed, relieved.

Chris looked at her and then at his brother. It was like going back years to when he would ask a girl out and by bad luck she would end up bumping into his brother. Travis Hackett was no expert when it came to human interactions. Worse if it was a woman, especially a pretty one.

A sight was heard from the youngest Hackett.

"Camila, this is my brother, Travis," he presented, placing a hand on the aforementioned's shoulder. "He is the sheriff of North kill."

Camila nodded slowly. They didn't look like brothers, and if they really were, they looked like a version of a good twin and a bad twin.

"Nice to meet you, Sheriff Hackett." She managed to say, extending her hand.

Travis contemplated not receiving the greeting, but something in the back of his brain screamed at him to move his hand. And so he did.

He couldn't remember the last time his cold skin had contact with such a warm place. The paleness of his hand was overshadowed by the girl's brown fingers. He couldn't help to notice how that caramel color shone with the reflection of the sun.

How could he not look at her? She literally glowed.

Speak, idiot.

"Likewise, miss... " He left the sentence in the air. He really didn't want to know anything about her, he knew he shouldn't, but curiosity got the better of him.

"Ramirez." Camila hurried to say. Suddenly didn't find the moment so terrible.

Travis understood in that moment. That's why he didn't recognize the accent. What a way to attract attention, it seemed like everything about that girl was trying to stand out. And she did it.

"Miss Ramirez." He pronounced, as best he could, the last name.

Camila couldn't help that giggle. Travis understood why, and even though he would have loved to smile back, like a normal human being, he did nothing but ignore her.

Travis broke contact with the girl. It was distracting him too much, and more important things than an attractive young woman were waiting for him at the police station.

"Have a good day."

Short, dry. As it should be.

Chris looked at Camila, almost telepathically apologizing.

Travis quickened the pace to his patrol car.

And as suddenly as he appeared, he left.

[nikageeee]

Psst here’s some art of Travis and Marjorie that no one but me asked for…

scribble of them circa 2000 when Kaylee was almost one

[scrapnick]

“Are you checking me out, sheriff?”

“More checking so you don’t accidentally shoot me?”

Waist up full colour commission for @auryborealis of their oc Evan and sheriff Travis 🥰

[howdydarling]

A sketch commission for @the-girl-of-rain-and-shadows of their precious OC and Travis Hackett!

This was so fun to work on! Thanks for the comm!

Interested in commissioning me? Check out my rates here!

[summersnow82]

Me, writing a scene between Annabelle and Constance: Hmmmmm. Might be too aggressive.

Also me, remembering how Constance treated Travis: NOT AGGRESSIVE ENOUGH!

[lunaticus-platina]

It is merry chrysler. I mean crisis. I mean Santa day. The day that makes ya stressed because capitalistic marketing says you gotta buy stuff to give and people start doing charities that they forgot to do for the whole year. Also it makes ya sentimental. Why not write something about Christmas then hahaha.

Travis Hackett x oc where they share Christmas headache and some melancholy that follows it.

Christmas with BK is a chaos. To put it mildy.

Travis being a man he is, he chooses to try and be somewhat present at his own Family's dreadful Christmas. Not that he had that much chance to stray far from North Kill in the first place, but no excuse is enough to bail out of family holidays. Even when there is no longer his mother there to enforce it.

About two weeks prior, however, BK mentions the family dinner he had to attend on 18th, and says his family rarely celebrates any holidays together, so they all decided to have the annual family gathering a little closer to Christmas this time.

Brief shock on Travis' face from the invitation must've been poorly masked, because BK's rare, sheepish side is suddenly searching for words to explain that usually they all bring friends or co-workers to make the party merrier.

"Forget I said anything." He says, now feeling stupid to bring it up at all. "Things are gonna get hectic anyway, always do. No need to-"

But here's the thing. Travis has never been invited to Christmas parties before. His Family's doesn't count, and him having been a hardass cop most of his life didn't help either. Seeing the former hunter this nervous is refreshing too, so he says, "No, no. I'll....think about it."

That was his first mistake.

There's smoke pouring out of the kitchen. For some godforsaken reason the smoke detector is not going haywire, and a man in the corner tossing darts won't stop looking at him intently whenever their eyes meet.

BK's youngest brother has 3 kids, expecting one more. "Where's our preeeesentssssss" "Uncle Renny, who's that?" "Yeah! Is he your boyfriend???" All three erupt into giggle feat. The room's too warm for Travis and BK's busy explaining that T is his friend.

The kids ooh and next thing he knows, they are all running around screaming, 'We have a new uncle'. The smoke is still coming out of kitchen, only this time there is added exclamation from BK. "How the fuck did you burn water???" Some people at the table are discussing about different versions of death gamble around the world, a guy catching a falling kid from the Christmas tree, a red haired woman sneaking a jar of candy canes out of the room and accidentally dropping it, etc.

Headache only grows. Until it stops.

Once a woman with salt n pepper hair and steely eyes enters the room, everyone falls silent. Only when the kids zoom towards her shouting, "Nana!" does he understand that this is BK's mother. He marvels at the way she takes control of the situation, assigning everyone to their roles and places like a commanding officer. Despite his concern, the handshake and knowing look from her are approving enough. And that is all of their exchange. Although the kids keep asking her if 'uncle trav is joining them', which makes his ears burn.

BK's in the kitchen stirring pans here and there, seasoning and cutting like he's worked there all his life. Travis helps where he can. Dinner's twice more pleasant with everyone seated and not causing a ruckus. When T heads out the door, it's with full stomach, full hands, and full heart, though his head is light with alcohol and contentment. He'll later grimace at the ugly Christmas sweater in the unwrapped box, but the card still makes him smile.

Christmas arrives. It could be worse, to put it simply.

Kaylee decided to spend her first curse-free Christmas at the party with her friends. College life is doing good for the kid, Travis thinks. He doesn't know if the relief he feels from his mother's absence makes him a piece of shit. Then again, he's always been a failure to her. Jed doesn't comment on BK being there. In fact, he doesn't acknowledge his presence at all. Small mercy, he guesses. Last thing Travis wants is violence on a goddamn Christmas.

Bobby helped with the decorations around the house, laughing like a child on, well, on Christmas morning. Chris and Caleb set the table, Travis is cooking, until they all hear shouting from another room.

Jed standing with heaving chest. BK wiping his busted lip. There's blood on the old man's knuckles. "You ain't get to walk around this house like you own it boy! I'll make sure you go to hell for what ya did!"

BK looks slightly inconvenienced, licking at his newly acquired wound. "First of all, I was invited. Second. She got herself killed by not listening to me. Ain't my fault she dug her grave and jumped right in."

"You sonova-" Chris drags his father out of the room before the second blow connects. Caleb gives him a long look and quietly leaves. Travis grits his teeth. But the anger that bubbles to surface pops and simmers down when BK quietly mutters his apology. It's not like they all didn't do unforgivable things in the name of survival.

She couldn't be saved. He still doubts if his family even deserved to be saved, but that thought is for another drunken night.

Dinner's short and tense. Jed leaves first. When Caleb gets up to leave, BK hands him a small box wrapped in green ribbon. When Travis sees Caleb smile, he lets go of a piece of burden that suffocated him for the whole evening.

BK and the Hackett brothers head to a bar. To enjoy the holiday for once, it's a nice change. There's laughter. Chris wistfully mentions how his little girl is all grown up and away from the nest. Wishes his wife was there to celebrate with. Travis remembers the night his brother wailed like never before, repeating over and over again 'How am I supposed to do this without you?' That's why he needed to be here. With family. They needed him. Even before the curse. Even before he got his job. He looks at the glass and ponders. Some more talk happens. Chris and Bobby head home.

Two remaining men head to T's place, the half empty whiskey bottle stands between the two. It's late. It's snowing. TV volume is at the lowest, some cheesy Christmas Rom-com playing.

Travis' pondering(sulking) is interrupted when a small grey box enters his view. BK answers his confusion with 'merry Christmas'.

"But you already gave me a present."

"That was obviously a joke. Your reaction was worth it though. Why didn't you wear it by the way? Don't like sweaters?"

Travis deadpans. "In that case, I have something to give you as well." He says instead.

BK is smug, clearly already imagining Travis in that monstrosity. "Aw, you didn't have to." He gratefully takes the present.

In the carefully wrapped brown box is a...an earbud?

No. It's a hearing aid.

BK stares at it for a moment. Travis rambles on nervously. "You said the one you have is broken. Kaylee helped me look up things but there wasn't much to choose, some were too big, some were just plain garbages, then I thought maybe it could be something you need. Kaylee said it could work like those airpods she has, and you are always listening to that radio, so I thought-"

"Wait, wait." BK shakes out of whatever thought he was in. "Are you saying this has bluetooth?"

"Yes."

There's that stare again. This time aimed straight at Travis. It's making his palms sweat.

"Travis. How much did you spend on this."

"Not too much."

BK looks at the box again. "Fucking Christ." He looks at Travis. "It's rechargeable. Got the case and all. Pretty sure I know this brand. How much did you spend on this Travis." He sounds incredulous.

"Look it doesn't matter okay? It's for your ear, what use is it if it's crap?"

"It's not like I'm completely deaf. Didn't have to bother getting a good one when I can survive without it. But..." BK purses his lips, lowering his gaze. There's gentle sadness in his eyes. A strange sight. When he speaks again, it's barely above a whisper. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you. Not often I get any gifts, let alone something this thoughtful."

All Travis can do is mumbling 'you're welcome' and start unwrapping his gift. It's a tiny, long and silvery whistle. On the sides there are intricate patterns adorning them. It's attached to a chain, and the whistle itself is beautiful enough to make it look like a jewelry. He arches a brow.

"Go on. Blow it." BK says. And Travis does just that, but the whistle is silent.

Travis isn't sure if this is another joke. "You gave me a...dog whistle?"

BK bursts into laughter. "Not exactly. It's a magic whistle."

"Magic." Travis repeats, unimpressed.

"Yes. And as you've seen before, it's very real. You see, that whistle's enchanted, so when you blow no one can hear it...... But I can."

BK smirks. "I'll tell you how it works later. But for now, all you need to know is I can hear that sound even from the other side of the earth. You blow it, I come and help you out when yer in a pickle. Consider it a thank you for saving my life."

Travis smooths his thumb over the patterns, thinking of the night when it all ended. "You helped me first."

"It's my job." BK shrugs. He knows what the man is thinking. At least the main bits. His ma, his life, his family, etc. Maybe the earlier shit with his dad.

"I saw you wincing."

There it is. BK only looks.

"Earlier. When we were drinking."

"It's just a small tear. It'll heal."

"I'm sorry that he did that."

"Not your fault."

Two are silent.

This time it's BK that mutters out. "I'm sorry about your mother."

Travis grunts.

They empty the whole bottle. BK tries to sneak out but Travis is not having it. He also wouldn't have let BK take the couch if he wasn't already collapsed on it like a log. So instead he heads to bed. When he turns he hears BK say 'Merry Christmas Travis', muffled against the couch. 'Merry Christmas Brennen', he replies, and there's warmth to it.

Travis crumbles on the inviting bed. It's warm, the whiskey boils in him. His chest is warm too, not hollow and chilled like many other nights. All in all, this Christmas wasn't too bad, he thinks, looking at the glittering whistle on the nightstand.

[travishackettboygirlfriend]

This blog is as dead as my hyperfixation but I think it's worth to post these doodles because I think they're still cute.

[slashaer]

also - like for a starter from one of my horror muses ( listed below ). specify muse.

anita lesnicki - jennifer's body. billy loomis - scream. beetlejuice - beetlejuice. carrie white - carrie. camille preaker - sharp objects. clarice starling - silence of the lambs. clayton riddell - cell. daniel le domas - ready or not. dana polk - cabin in the woods. dennis rafkin - 13 ghosts. graverobber - repo! the genetic opera. sheriff hassan - midnight mass. hannibal lecter - hannibal. hugh crain - the haunting of hill house. jason dean - hearhers. jeremiah hackett - the quarry oc. joel miller - the last of us. john kramer - saw. josef - creep. lee - bones and all. margot - the menu. maxine minx - x. mike schmidt - fnaf. nathan wallace - repo! the genetic opera. natalie scatorccio - yellowjackets. nathaniel james carson - serial killer oc. owen sharma - haunting of bly manor. parker nash - fbi agent oc. richie tozier - it. stu macher - scream. travis hackett - the quarry. warren hawthorne - grim reaper oc. wendy christensen - final destination 3.

[evilvvithin]

TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU'D LOVE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

Tagged by @yumethefrostypanda (ily n everything you post)

Three Ships:

Uh i... ship people with me mainly, but something fresh i dig out my mind is - travis hackett x laura (the quarry) - wednesday x tyler (wednesday) - my oc ghostface x me can't think of third

First Ship:

Okay listen the tension between them? The way Travis talks to her and.. handcuffs her? If you know The Quarry, you know

Last Song:

Last Film:

Film? The original SAW because the old movies are just so good and never gets old. Precious little frames full of violence romance and blood.

Currently Reading:

Dirty smuts counts? If not, METRO 2033 for the 6589th time.

Currently Watching:

Wolf Pack ep1 because it looked cool, for movie I'm putting Scream 1996 right after it. Ongoing series? The Last of Us 100%

Currently Craving:

Coffee, if i ever say anything else call an ambulance

Tagging (no pressure): @xellnikov @life-or-something-like-lt @nickoffermen @knifecalledlust @konigbabe @dropped-their-sniper @sandinthemachine @thedeathdoctor @slasher-lovers-blog @itsagrimm @lucifers-horror-harem & and anyone wanting to do this!

[auryborealis]

....I really don't know how to draw Ted Raimi ;-;

Behold, another product of my simpness. This time an OC for The Quarry. Her name is Evan, and she's actually the younger sister of my RE8 OC, Faye. She's a private investigator who is struggling to cope with the recent passing of her mother and the disappearance of her sister, who went missing in 2014. She takes on a missing person case which leads her to Northkill, where she quickly finds out about a coverup, causing a feud between her and local sheriff Travis Hackett. Simply put: he locks her up, she kicks his ass and escapes, he saves her from a werewolf encounter, she nurses him back to health, insert steady build of trust and understanding which then develops into affection (and a carnal need to release their frustration and stress together).

Nicknames: Evans, Evie (used by Faye)

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Their

Birthday: July 8, 1991

Height: 5'4"

Voice Claim: Allegra Clarke (Shamir from Fire Emblem: Three Houses) but also sounding like Tara Strong's Raven from Teen Titans

Character inspirations include: Madeleine Nguyen (Gourmet Hound), Melinda May (Agents of SHIELD), Nathalie (Uriah), Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan), Kang Sae-byeok (Squid Game), Elektra Ovirowa (Cowboy Bebop), Helena Harper (Resident Evil 6), Aya Brea (Parasite Eve), and Juli Kidman (The Evil Within)

My exact thought process when coming up with her name: "Lol Ebony. Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Ok no, let's just shorten that to Evan... Evan Lee, Ebony lolololol." (I did not know that the actor who plays Nick is named Evan during this time)

I forgot to add to that interrogation comic that she also carries a combat knife.

She wears a silver sun necklace while Faye wears a golden moon necklace. They each serve as a symbol of the other. Her necklace did serve as a protection against the werewolves but during a certain encounter, she loses her necklace, resulting in her getting bitten. She later recovers and gives the necklace to Travis for safekeeping (and for his protection).

The scars on her face aren't a result of an attack but a childhood injury. Her werewolf form can be identified by these scars and they still somehow remain when she returns to human form.

She had an unspecified illness which would sometimes flare up, to the point where she would need to be put to bedrest or even hospitalized. Faye had disappeared while taking on a job that would pay off her medical bills, hence why Evan blames herself for her going missing. After getting bitten, she was cured from the illness. She would not reunite with Faye until 2022.

She scares Bobby, with or without her werewolf form.

Among the counselors, she’d probably get along with Ryan the most.

What would be the shipname for this resting bitch face couple? Traven?? (Evis sounds like Elvis and Hacklee sounds like a coughing fit)

She and Travis probably won't have kids. But they would definitely spoil their nephew and nibling, Damien and Adrian Heisenberg.

[THE QUARRY SPOILERS] 

I imagine certain events of The Quarry going differently if Evan was involved, particularly the Laura and Max scenes. For one, she’d make up for Travis’ lack of social skills and not keep them locked up for two whole freaking months, even fiercely arguing with Travis about it. During the final couple chapters, after Ryan shoots Chris which therefore cures Laura and Max, I imagine Evan taking on Laura’s role. She lets her go off to reunite with Max (because I don’t like the conditions for this to happen in-game ;_;)

[danyaselmar]

Work in Progress - Travis x female OC

"She’s a good girl, Travis, and she loves you dearly. Believe me," said Nate. Travis looked at him suspiciously. "But I swear, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Don’t care that you’re the sheriff. She’s my baby sister." Travis nodded. […]

Still far from finished, but I like the progress. Good boy needs some rest. And someone who loves him.🥺

[nikageeee]

My hand slipped and I drew oc x Travis art again…

A post quarry doodle when Travis wakes up in hospital. Marj is there. He doesn’t know why, but he instead asks her who “made it”.

There’s a silence.

Travis realizes she won’t have known the half of what went on the night before; but she will still know who in his family is still living and breathing…right?

It’s not good. Travis knows from the look on her face that he has to brace himself for more bad news.

God…no…god-fucking damnit

[kijiboop]

So, I finished the first part of In the Family. I stopped posting it on Tumblr because I finally remembered that Tumblr’s tagging system is so fucked up.

There are ten chapters of Travis Hackett x OFC on AO3. I’m posting this mostly so it can show up in the tags. I’ll reblog later with a link.

Please read it. I’ve really enjoyed writing it and want to keep writing Part Two. Feedback, both general and constructive criticism is welcome.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[howdydarling]

Summary:

Guilt is something that Travis knows all about. It gnaws away at him, a quiet thing that wraps clawed fingers over the curved cage of his ribs, staring out at the world. It reaches up, claws at his throat as he stands over one more bloodied, mangled mess and has to make the decision, every time, to dig into the viscera, push up his sleeves and push down his bile, and bury one more secret.

That's all this is. Just one more secret.

i threw my pwp “travis drugging my SI” drabble up on AO3! mind the warnings!

[summersnow82]

Somethin Bad - Part 19

Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter up. I will be finishing this story. Life just keeps getting in the way. Thanks for sticking with me. @durorholmes - this chapter is for you!

Part 19

Patience had never been one of Annabelle’s virtues. Frank and Darlene had her convinced Travis only needed a night or two to think things over before he’d come back for her. It had been three days, and Travis hadn’t so much as called.

She was starting to get pissed off.

Thankfully, her accommodations were better than normal. Darlene’s home had been in the family since the Civil War, consistently updated and well cared for while still maintaining the historical charm. The home was a lavish two-story build with columns, tons of windows, and a charming wrap-around porch. Inside, the original flooring had been carefully maintained, and small details like the sconces reminded the owners of their rich heritage. Darlene had carefully decorated with a flurry of antiques and heirlooms, while updating the kitchen and bathrooms to a more modern taste.

Annabelle loved it. She currently lay on the four poster solid chestnut bed trying not to worry or feel sorry for herself. Darlene and Frank had gone above and beyond to make Annabelle feel at home, and they’d been kind enough to keep the personal questions to a minimum. Darlene had taken full advantage of having a female companion with time on her hands, and had dragged Annabelle to North Kill’s beauty parlor and salon for a “day of lady luxury,” as she called it. It was hard to feel bad for yourself when your nails were polished like gems, your makeup was flawless, and your hair was styled like a 1940s pinup model. Darlene had insisted on shopping afterwards, and now Annabelle had half a dozen bags in her room with new clothes and accessories.

“I can’t take it with me, sweetheart,” Darlene had said, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she handed her credit card over to the store clerk. “Besides, you need something more than Travis’ flannel shirts and stretch pants to wear. I take it this was an unplanned visit?”

“Very much so,” Annabelle admitted, ducking her head to hide her shame – her pride was currently at war with her gratitude, which was another common problem thanks to her time traveling.

She sighed, swinging her feet off the side of the bed now. She couldn’t lie in her room all day; maybe she could help cook dinner or do something to show her gratitude. If she could find something to do, something to preoccupy her thoughts perhaps it would be easier to figure out how to deal with the coming full moon and Constance Hackett’s clear insanity. Anything was better than thinking about why Sean hadn’t reached out yet, and how Travis could so easily pretend she didn’t exist.

------------

“You can’t stay here anymore.”

That’s what Travis had said the night of his confession to Sean; the same night he’d cast Annabelle out of his home. He knew he couldn’t go home that night, either. He blamed it on the alcohol, but he knew it was because he couldn’t face the place now that he’d sent Annabelle away. Despite his reasoning, he still felt guilty for how he’d left her. The least he could do for her now was keep Sean safe from his parent’s murderous intent.

The alcohol had loosened his tongue as he paced his office floor. Sharing his story had ignited a determination in him to fix something, anything within his control, and this he could control. Sean watched him pace back and forth, working through options before he spoke again. “I know a place,” he finally said, grabbing his keys and his jacket.

Sean didn’t move. “You’ve been drinking.”

Travis arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?” Sean’s expression said he was. Travis sighed. “Look, you can risk the car with me, or you can risk my family coming back here later tonight.”

Sean pursed his lips, exhaling deeply. “Fine,” he reluctantly announced. His body language and tone told Travis it was anything but fine, but this was the lesser of two evils.

Sean wasn’t sure where he was expecting Travis to take him – maybe a cabin deeply hidden in the woods, or a seedy motel, but a historic Catholic church was not on his list. Saint Christopher’s Blessed Trinity of North Kill had fallen into some disarray over the years, but it was still stunning with intricate detail.

“Saint Christopher’s the patron saint of travelers,” Travis replied, killing the ignition. “Thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

A small chuckle left Sean before he said, “I always preferred Saint Jude.” He cast his eyes to the Sheriff. “Patron saint of lost causes.”

The two men were silent as they approached the church. Travis took the lead, heading towards the back of the building. The back door of the church was unlocked, a testament to either the trust of the priest or his faith in the citizens of North Kill. Travis ushered Sean in, leading him to a back room in the darkened halls.

“You know your way around,” Sean said softly.

Travis made a small noise in the affirmative, closing yet another door behind him before he pulled out his flashlight. “I spent quite a lot of time here growing up. Thought about joining the priesthood at one point, too, but Ma wasn’t very supportive of that idea.” He grimaced at the thought. “This church dates back to the Civil War era. It’s been used to hide, protect, and offer sanctuary for countless people – a fact the former priest shared after Evie…,” he trailed off, casting the glow of his flashlight in the direction of the bookshelves lining the wall. “Now let’s see,” he murmured to himself, moving forward to run his hand along the wooden shelves. “Frank said it was even used in the Underground Railroad.” Travis paused for a moment, then turned back to Sean. “Is that a thing where you come from?”

Sean nodded, his silence heavy. “So your folks don’t know about this?”

Travis went back to searching. “Not a bit. I think the only reason Frank ever told me was in case Evie or I needed to run.” He shrugged. “At least it’s helping someone now. Ah!” The excitement in Travis’ voice and a small, but firm click told Sean he’d found the release mechanism, and the bookshelf pushed forward. “There we go. C’mon.”

The enthusiasm in Travis’ voice died the second the lights flicked on. Both men whirled to see an older man glowering at them, his hat clutched firmly between his hands.

“Frank,” Travis gasped.

“You two wanna tell me what you’re doing in my church at this hour?” The scowl on Frank’s face read as disappointment and frustration more than proper anger, but Sean remained silent, waiting on Travis to take the lead. “Dagnabbit, Travis, I showed you this in confidence. What’re you doing skulking around here in the dark like a common thief?”

Sean blinked. “You thought we were thieves?”

Frank gave him a withering stare. “Of course. Figured they could take what little I had instead of risking the defilement of the Lord’s House. And you are, son?”

“Ummm,” Sean said dumbly, not missing the sudden smug look on Travis’ face. Sean wasn’t used to feeling dumb; he was used to Annabelle doing most of the talking when they were in sticky situations. She was good at it. Travis, despite his earlier surprise, seemed to be enjoying this off moment for the younger man.

“Frank,” Travis began, and the older man turned his withering gaze to the Sheriff.

“You’ll remember where you are before you answer that question, son.”

Travis sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Frank.”

“My name is Sean, sir. Sean Landers.”

Frank arched a brow. “You a new officer?” He asked, motioning towards the uniform Sean still wore.

“Not… exactly, sir.”

“Frank, I can’t explain, but I need you to trust me,” Travis said, holstering his flashlight. “He needs a safe place.”

Frank cast a look between the two men, crossing his arms over his chest as he debated Travis’ words. Finally he said, “This have anything to do with your folks?”

Travis nodded, his thin lips pulled in a tight grimace. “Yes, sir.”

“What about Alice?” He cast his eyes over to Sean when he said the name, studying him carefully.

Travis sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Frank pursed his lips, nodding his head just a touch. “Her name really Alice?”

Sean couldn’t tell if Travis was ashamed or forlorn, so he spoke up. “Her name is Annabelle Harris, sir. She’s my sister, and we’re in a bit of tight spot.”

Frank took the new information with stride, carefully studying both men. “I’ll say you are. Constance Hackett’s got her eye on that girl. Maybe she should be the one hiding in here instead of you.” He was silent for a moment before slowly asking, “Does this have anything to do with the fire six years ago?” Travis’ head snapped up, and Frank nodded, clucking his tongue. “What about the upcoming full moon?” It was Sean’s turn to look surprised.

“How… ?”

“I may be old, boys, but I’m not dumb. I’ve lived in North Kill most of my life; the town’s not that big. People talk. Some listen. Fewer observe.” He paused, his gaze softening at he looked back over at Travis. “You haven’t been the same since, son. Been… off. Tired – no, exhausted. Constantly. Every full moon you get on edge, and the day after you’re plum worn out. But mainly,” he paused, releasing a heavy sigh. “Mostly, I just see the hope and faith slip further and further away in you and your kin. That’s no way to live.”

Travis cast his gaze to the ground. “So you’ll help us?” Sean asked quietly, and Frank nodded, still watching the Sheriff.

“I will. Just tell me what you need.” He paused for a moment, as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “And you c’mon over tomorrow night for supper, Travis. You owe your lady friend a proper apology.”

---------------------

Annabelle should’ve known something was up with the way Darlene and Frank flitted around the house the next day, fusing over her, insisting she wear the lovely yellow blouse with the frilled collar, and the emerald green skirt that twirled around Annabelle’s calves. Darlene was taking extra pains to make the house smell warm and inviting, while giving Frank hushed instructions anytime Annabelle came into view.

So when the doorbell rang it shouldn’t have surprised Annabelle how Frank called from the kitchen, asking her to get the door for them.

It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. So did seeing Travis standing there in a clean pair of dress slacks, a stiff white button-down shirt, and a charcoal gray suit jacket. The look on his face when he saw her was one of pure surprise, and she might have relished it more if her anger hadn’t gotten the better of her. Her lips twisted in a defiant purse, and with a flick of her wrist she was slamming the front door in the Sheriff’s face.

Annabelle spun on her heel, her green skirt flowing around her, and began marching away from the door when Darlene popped her head out of the dining room. “Darling, don’t slam the door the poor fellow,” she said, examining two different stems of glassware. “You can’t see him grovel through the wood.” Annabelle froze, blinking at the older woman. She’d already come to admire and adore Darlene over the past few days, but a new respect was growing within her. The older woman looked up, flashing Annabelle a dazzling grin before nodding in the direction of the front door. Annabelle sighed reluctantly, and spun back around, swinging the door open with a flourish.

Travis was still standing on the porch, an eyebrow arched so high she could hear the sass before he opened his mouth.

...so she slammed the door in his face again. Just for good measure.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the entryway mirror. Her hair was still curled and coiffed, her makeup still pristine, and she looked better than she’d seen herself look in a long time. If she was going to deal with Travis better to do it looking like this.

She swung the door open again, thrusting a hand against the door jamb, ultimately blocking his path. She arched a brow, tilted her chin up a touch, and said, “You made me ruin a perfectly good roast.”

Annabelle didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but clearly it wasn’t a reference to food. His brow furrowed in confusion, and she stepped over the threshold, surprising him further as she advanced into his personal space. His eyes widened a touch, and he took a step back. She reached out, grabbing his jacket lapels and pulled him back to her. “Where is Sean?”

[lunaticus-platina]

My oc BK in the quarry universe, interacting with the characters. Portrayed by dog gifs

BK with Counselors:

BK with Laura:

BK with Max:

BK when Constance tries to say or do anything:

BK when werewolves attack:

BK when he's with Kaylee and Caleb:

BK when Travis smiles:

BK when Travis manages to really, really hurt his feelings.