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renny-boy-blog · 1 year

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My Shadow

This is a short story/creepy pasta I wrote based on the traits of the Jeff the Killer types of stories. I also just wanted to try my hand at actually writing since I wanna improve my writing skills so instead of it just wasting away on my pc I decided to post this. So yeah, uhhhhh enjoy my crappy attempt at writing something half decent with the JtK format. Also the images at the bottom are pulled from Picrew, they are not hand drawn by me. I just didn't have time to draw these characters before posting. Also trigger warning I guess for a dark story that does include some child not so happy situations and, as the format of JtK suggests, there is murd3r in this. (idk if tumblr is super ok with those kinds of words yet lolz) So yeah! enjoy this cringy story!

Normally monsters are big, scary creatures with long teeth and sharp claws. Horns and fur and wings. However….. sometimes monsters don’t look like that. Sometimes monsters can blend into society. Sometimes monsters can look like you and me. Sometimes monsters can reside within us.

This is my story. A retelling of sorts that my therapist suggested I do to talk about my feelings and what led me to be here…. In a mental facility/prison.

I have a medical condition called DID. Also known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s the modern day term for a split personality. How this happened is unclear however my doctor thinks it started back when I was a kid, so I guess that’s where I will start too.

I was never the brightest kid. Got picked on in school, had about a C or a B average. And never really had the best home life. My mother was an alcoholic and substance abuser. I never knew my father. You see I was a one night stand baby. And you might be able to see where this is headed. My mother always had a new guy over every week. Sometimes multiple a week. She was selling her body to pay for basic things. Fortunately my grandfather would come by to help take care of me when I was a baby and toddler since she never made a whole lot.

Up until I was about 10 years old this continued. I always saw strange men in the house, my mother was never really coherent enough to take proper care of me, and my grandfather would sometimes teach me how to take a bath or make some toast so I could do things by myself when mother wasn’t home.

Now my grandfather was quite an older man. When I was 10 he was 87. He passed away from a stroke in his sleep. It was so traumatizing for me as a kid cause he was the only real support I had in my life that wasn’t always flickering. My mother was never really a bad mother. Just…. Missguided by her substance abuse.

Sure she would throw things if she got angry, or blow puffs of smoke into my face, and on the rare occasion she would verbally harass me if I was too loud coming home from school and she had a hangover. The real harm came from the men she brought home to do business with.

Most of them were very big muscular guys. Some brought guns, some brought drugs and alcohol. All of them hated me. They hated that I even existed. When mother had men over I would lock myself in the bathroom and play the radio to drown out their sounds. Sometimes the men would need to use the bathroom and get angry at me for locking it up.

Other times if the men saw me, they would abuse me in both physical and psychological ways. Some of them even sexually assaulted me. And it was constant. Every time a man came over and I was seen, all hell would break loose. They didn’t want their living sex doll having a child around.

Once I reached age 13 however, things changed a bit. I was taking care of myself more at this point. Cooking for myself, doing the laundry and things of that nature. The men would come over a lot more often since they didn’t get scared away by the idea of a toddler or child in the house anymore. Now I was practically a teenager and my mom could charge more for having me…. Join their antics.

I don’t blame her. She was under the influence that those demon of substances can cause in people who become dependant on it. I just wish things could have been a lot different.

This is kinda where the DID comes into play. Sometime after my grandfather died, and age 13, I developed a coping mechanism of sorts. My brain would shut off, and a new person would take over my body while these things were happening so that I eventually wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore. I dubbed them my shadow since they only ever came out when I was scared or knew the men would be coming over.

As kids do, I also kept a journal, like the one I’m writing now. Though sometimes pages I don’t remember writing would show up. The writing was messy and scratchy, yet still legible. It seemed that Shadow was the one who would write these after the encounters with men.

Shadow would write about how it hurt when they touched them and how they felt gross all the time. Thankful for the freedom from a physical body when I was in control. At times I felt bad for this creature who was sharing my skin. I knew the pain they felt since it had happened to me before shadow came to be, however I felt like I shouldn’t try and stop them from taking over when those bad times happened since I was scared to face them myself.

As the years went on, shadow became more… uncontrollable. They would suddenly take over any time I felt any stress of some kind, leading me to be kicked out of school for the actions shadow would do. Based on the records, it seemed that shadow would attack any adult male in the vicinity and also throw cuss words at the adult females.

I did go to the doctor on police request after they had escorted me off school property for the last time, however that doctor just threw meds at me and said “bye”. So I never really got treated. Things continued like this until one day, shadow wouldn’t come back. I don’t know how long I was out for, as I never remember what happens when shadow takes over, however I just remember feeling like something wasn’t right when I returned.

What I returned to, days later according to my moms phone, was a bloody mess. A man had come over a few days before, and thus shadow took over. From the journal it seemed like shadow had enough of the torture and hated whomever was the other soul in this body for making them go through such terrible things. Shadow has killed the man, and my mother when she tried to stop shadow from attacking him.

Every day for those few days I was out of it, a new man was scheduled to show up and shadow killed them as well. So when I woke up, a good 4 or 5 bodies had piled up in our little apartment at this point. The smell was unbearable and I threw up on the spot. Someone else in the apartment building reported the smell and police arrived a few hours after I had come to. I was thankful they had showed up since I was so traumatized by the scene in front of me I couldn’t speak.

The police took me into custody and interrogated me for hours. They found my journal, and the fact I was covered in blood and vomit didn’t help them in not suspecting me. Since I was 13 at the time, they couldn’t really throw me in prison for the murders of my mother and those men. However they did send me to juvie and I was finally looked at properly by a competent doctor.

As I aged I grew out of juvie and into the adult correctional system. Still going to therapy and taking medications though. It took a lot of work, however shadow never comes out anymore. At least when I’m awake anyway. Sometimes shadow will come out when I’m sleeping and write things down about how they hate me still even though the torment is over.

I’m not 23 and living a relatively normal life. For someone who’s in a mental institution and prison that is. I’ll never be allowed to be released since unless I constantly take my meds and am under supervision, shadow may come back when I get scared and could go on a rampage again.

I don’t mind that quite so much…. It’s safe here and my therapist actually cares about me. I’ve taken up drawing in my time at this facility so I’ll attach a few drawings I have done of myself and what I believe shadow looks like as well. We are two separate individuals after all.

So I guess that’s where the story ends? This story may have been a bit rambly cause it’s all from memory and most of this stuff happened 10+ years ago. I guess thanks for reading of you get this far? I honestly don’t know why my therapist wants me to write this…

Myself:

My depiction of Shadow:

#stories #story #creepy pasta #creepypasta #my creepy pasta #my story #short story #jeff the killer format

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4jeagers · 4 years

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packin’

⭑ what’s karasuno packin’ ;)

⭑ word count: 637

content warnings: nsfw, dick analysis, detailed descriptions of dick?

a/n: i was literally writing this at 4am so i’m sorry if this bad.

daichi sawamura → nice cock bro akdnsksk okay i kNOW daichi has a nice dick, like he’s a healthy guy with quite a bit of muscle. a sold 6.7 inches with a nice girth, curves a little to the left and a few vains on the sides. daichi tries to keep himself nicely trimmed but doesn’t always have the time to do so. overall very nice looking dick. bonus point for daichi because his cum doesn’t taste like battery acid.

sugawara koushi → omfg my head hurts, ceo of pretty dicks. suga really just hit the jockpot of genetics. 6.5 inches, a decent girth, curves up, a few small protruding vains on the underside. not the thickest but the curve really makes up for it, mans doesnt even have to try to hit your sweet spot. yes the carpets match the drapes, keeps himself trimmed but sometimes shaves if he has the time. pls let me suck your dick sir.

asahi azumane → oof you’re gonna need some stretching for this one. 7.3 - 7.5 inches, not much but does curve to the left, has a really sensitive vain right at the base. biggest dick on the team but doesn’t know what to do with it akdnsksk. it’s very intimidating to say the least, not only is it long but it’s THICK. asahi really out here with horse cock. tries his best to keep himself neat but it’s a little on the longer side.

ryuunsoke tanaka → 5.9, almost 6 inches, im sorry tanaka. even though he might not be the longest he’s definitely got girth on his side. 2nd thickest dick on the team, not too many distinct vains but the head is very sensitive. very rarely trims himself, only if it really get out of hand.

yuu nishinoya → 5.7 inches with a decent girth. what noya may lack in size he makes up for it with enthusiasm and attention. you won’t be feeling him in your guts but NO ONE has a faster pace than noya. deadass feels like a vibrator is inside of you. 100% puts all that energy into thrusts.

tobio kageyama → 6 inches with a pink head. kageyama has a lean body type and that translates to his dick. it’s very idealistic, above average length and girth. there’s a nice vain that goes from the base almost to the tip. honestly he doesn’t really think about his dick, like it’s just there akdnsksk. sometimes trims but doesn’t really think about it. bonus points also go to kageyama because he’s healthy like daichi and it helps with the f l a v o r.

shoyo hinata → very similar to noya, 5.3 - 5.5 inches, but does have quite a bit of girth. definitely has the most sensitive dick, his tip get very red when hard, also have a lot of pre cum. surprisingly shaves, he doesn’t likely the feeling when his pubes get too long. and yes the carpets match the drapes.

kei tsukishima → it’s ya boy uhhhhh skinny penis jk kinda. tsukki do be kinda packin though. 6.2 - 6.4 inches. has a nice girth but is more on the lengthy side. there’s some vains on the side of his cock but the real sensitive part is the underside of the head. doesn’t really have to trim because he’s blond but does take the extra time to do so.

tadashi yamaguchi → 5.8 inches with just the right amount of girth. not too big not too small, tadashi is kinda at this perfect middle ground. very nice looking, 10/10 would recommend. has a few freckles on his hips 🥺 pls give them a kiss. trims himself because he thinks it looks better.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #sawamura daichi #shoyo hinata #sugawara koushi #asahi azumane #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #tobio kageyama #ryuunosuke tanaka #yuu nishinoya

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pizzamafiaart · 3 years

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hee hoo THATS IT. IM TELLING YA’LL ABOUT MY DESTINY OCS

Exo Hunter Kobalt-13 Ghost name: Triangle Pronouns: he/him

loves finding treasure (aka caches of glimmer) to the point where he keeps treasure finding mods on his ghost

likes taking down high level enemies because they leave behind caches of glimmer

eats aquarium gravel on a regular basis

Triangle has all the brain cells and has to try to convince him to take actual missions rather than scrounge for cache's of glimmer

Has a shoebox filled with old pictures of him and his brother and family from when they were alive. It also has a soccer trophy from when Rust played soccer as a child.

Exo Warlock Rust-19 Ghost name: Saki Pronouns: He/him

Much more serious than Kobalt. Finds him to be kind of annoying

jailbroke his system so he could install anime gacha games onto himself.

Remembers nothing of his old life.

Actually surprisingly buff for a warlock. Could have been a titan.

Backstory: Kobalt and Rust were brothers that died in a carcrash during the golden age. They were turned into exos by their grieving parents. Kobalt has a few memories of their life and remembers their brother, Rust. Rust remembers nothing of his previous life to the point that he does not know that he and Kobalt are actual brothers. Kobalt insists that he refers to Rust as his brother. Rust just thinks that this is just a weird annoying thing that Kobalt does. Kobalt refuses to show Rust any of the photos of them in their past life or reveal that they are actually brothers for fear that it may cause him to glitch and need to be reset, thus making him lose his memories again.

Human Titan Liam Ghost Name: Sweetie/SweetHeart Pronouns: she/they

Liam was alive during the pre-golden age.

Their ghost managed to find a way into a buried mausoleum and resurrected them from their grave.

This is SUPER weird considering most guardians are from the golden age.

Liam doesn't remember their past but seems to remember what the pre-golden age was like. This mostly manifests as general confusion about what the absolute fuck is going on and have NO IDEA how anything works.

thinks exos are... kinda hot ;)

thinks the fallen are... kinda hot ;)

thinks the cabal are... kinda ugly ;)

thinks the vex are-

Historian love her. She offers some great insight into what life was like pre-golden age.

Who let this tiny lady be a guardian? who did this? why does she also have the strength to lift a fucking fridge.

looks like a cinnamon roll. could also kill you. fuckin smasha your head in with a ROCK

Someone managed to find a VERY RARE pre-golden age computer and Liam managed to get doom running on it.

Sometimes sings old songs from their past life. It reminds of them of home...

She finds the current state of earth to be distressing. In her time nearly the entire planet was covered in towns and cities. Now there are only decaying structures that have been slowly taken over by nature.

[makes ocs] hee hoo [makes them sad] >:3c

Anyways Kobalt is heavily based off of my hunter and my playstyle. YES i like treasure. Also my ghost has a pyramid shell so i named him triangle :)

I recently started a titan character so that’s liam. And i havent made a warlock because uhhhhh im dummy. I probably wont do much with rust. hes basicly just part of Kobalt’s backstory and i made him weirdly fleshed out.

#they're MY ocs i can make them mary sues if i want them to #also im very dumb and dont actually know alot about destiny lore because it confuses me #i just like pew pew shooty space game #might do a comic of liam of when they first wake up as a guardian??#also liam's name is a joke on mausoleum #mausoLEUM? LIAM? GET IT?#i know i make it seem like liam remembers alot but they actually dont #they mostly sense a lot of unease because they're from a completely different time #liam doesnt remember their family or what life was exactly like other than they miss their family and that their life was NOT LIKE THIS

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angelicspaceprince · 4 years

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Ouija

Author: Ama

Title: Ouija

Pairing: Possible Future Beetlejuice/Reader

Character/s: Beetlejuice

Word Count: 2, 473 words

Warnings: Beetlejuice has dyslexia, I do not, I tried.

Tags: @yankyo, @justballoonfishthings, @breadbudzo, @aethersghoulette, @ironically-deadinside, @beetlejuicecansteponme, @beetlebitchywitch (some of you asked, some of you I just tagged bc)

Prompt: You find a Ouija board and end up communicating with a ghost who has trouble spelling. Together you figure out a way for him to communicate with you a little bit easier.

Notes: I promised this fic like ages ago, based off of @slut-4-beetlejuice hcs that they wrote ages ago and we kinda did a dance of reblogs where we added to each other. But yeah, this is what I came up with! My plan for this fic is to do it in two parts and if y’all want more I can write more later, but I’m basically gonna portray your side of the story and then our favourite residential ghost with the most. This, obviously, is the reader’s side of the story. This is my first attempt at writing Beetlejuice as a fic, not as a hc so please be gentle with me. I hope y’all enjoy!Also, I had speechie friendo talk to me about dyslexia and I based Beej’s spelling mistakes around the notes she sent me.

Ouija Board Inspiration

Buy Me a Coffee

Ouija

It had started out innocently enough. You were bored and decided to spend the day exploring your new attic. You found a box filled with old games and decided that you wanted to sort through them, see if any were unusual or rare that you could keep. Most of them, you planned to donate somewhere, or put them back into storage.

You weren’t expecting much. Maybe a torn-up game of Twister, or Mouse Trap. Half a pack of Uno cards, or a ruined game of Trouble, and for the most part, you got what you expected. But when you found the Ouija board, you were a little surprised. Most of the games were for children, and weren’t in good enough nick to keep, let alone play. But the Ouija board looked like it just came out of the factory that created it. You go to lift the case from the bottom of the box, surprised by how heavy it was when you started to lift, nearly dropping it twice when you finally got it out and onto the table in front of you. Carefully, you lift the lid.

No wonder it was heavy. The Ouija board was wooden, and bigger than you were expecting. The dark wood had been engraved with the usual things a Ouija has, Yes, No, Goodbye, numbers 0-9 and every letter of the alphabet, the outside decorated with various designs you couldn’t make out in the dark. The one you could recognise was the pentagram engraved between the Yes and the No on the board. The planchette was also heavy, made from the same wood as the board, engraved with just two x’s, indicating where to put your finger.

You look over at the board as you hold the planchette in your hands. You were bored, yes. The attic was now in a state, yes. But the urge to test out the Ouija board was beginning to get too great. You organise yourself on the floor, placing the planchette in the middle of the board and just.... waiting. Not really sure on what to do now.

“Uh…hello?” Your voice is uncertain before you yelp when the cursor on the board begins to move. Yes, your fingers are on the x’s, but you weren’t providing any pressure. It just moved on its own.

‘H – I.’ The cursor spells out as your brain sort circuits as it returns to the centre of the board.

“Uhhhhh.” You pause, not sure how to proceed. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” The planchette seems to shake a little before moving towards the ‘No’ part of the board, returning to the centre. “You don’t want to tell me?” It moves back to the ‘No’. “That’s ok then. Can I ask if you’re really dead?” It moves to the ‘Yes’. “Is that yes I can ask, or yes you are?”

‘YES, I – A – M – D – E – D.’ You repeat the phrase once you’ve spelt out the letters quietly to show you’re aware of which letter the ghost was indicating with. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d get a response, or one so soon.”

‘F – L – G – U – R – E – D.’

“Can I ask some questions about life after death?” You wait for the cursor to move over the Yes before continuing. “Is there a hell?”

So, it continued. Every day, after work, you’d come home and race up to the attic and spend time talking to your ghostly friend, who still wouldn’t tell you their name. All you knew was they were dead, had been for centuries, were bored, and were something called a bio-exorcist (which took a couple of attempts to spell). You also learnt that any form of parental figure, they hated, and any form of rules and regulations was not something they enjoyed.

You also noticed that they had a weird tendency to refuse certain questions or struggled to spell words correctly when they did. Sure, exorcist, intelligence and February weren’t easy words to spell when you weren’t writing them down, but replacing b’s for d’s and p’s for q’s, c’s for o’s and n’s for m’s. There were a lot of little things you picked up over time made you think perhaps there was more to this story.

So, you changed direction. One evening, you were talking about work and things that annoyed you and a question you thought they’d be fine answering, but the planchette just started to shake. You pause for a second, trying to figure out what was wrong. “Do you want to answer the question?” The cursor slides quickly and heavily to the ‘Yes’, causing you to move your whole body with it before it tentatively returns to the centre of the board. You think for a second as the planchette continues to vibrate with what feels like annoyance. “Can you spell the answer?” The planchette stops moving and everything is still. It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. You wait for thirty seconds before you say “Hello?” and like that, the cursor slowly, tentatively, goes over towards the ‘No’ part of the board followed by a ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-E-E-M-A-B-A-D-S-P-E-L-E-R. “Oh. That’s ok, I’m pretty rubbish without spell check too. Take your time.” Everything stops for a second, the energy that is always humming when you’re up here seems to have dropped to a low throb, and you slowly remove your hands from the planchette as you think.

‘How can I make this easier for them?’ You hum for a second before returning your hands to the board. “Would you prefer yes or no questions?” The planchette slides quickly over to the ‘Yes’ and you smile. “Ok, if something isn’t a yes or no question, I’ll provide answers and you can slide to the numbers to tell me which one is appropriate. Does that work?” Again, ‘Yes’.

Life moves on. It was weird at first, but you got used to asking only yes or no questions and becoming content with that as a response. A few more weeks went by, you slowly began to spend more time talking to the ghost in the attic. It was fascinating, and you were lonely and suspected they were too. Why else would they talk to you night after night after night? You never brought up the idea that perhaps they may have been lonely, but you focused on making sure like they felt like they had a friend.

A few more weeks had passed before you came up with a new idea. As good as it was to make them feel like they weren’t stupid for their spelling, you felt like you were muting them or speaking on their behalf. So, on your Saturday evening as you ate your dinner and you asked a question about if they enjoyed scaring people whenever they got the chance and the planchette moved by its own accord, you stared down at the board for a few minutes in shock. “You can move things WITHOUT me helping?”

‘Yes.’

“Why the fuck do I have to hold it then?” You forget to offer options as you take a breath, hearing the planchette slide across the board. “Its fine, I was just in shock.” You explain, not looking at what the ghost was being said. An idea pings in your head. “With your bad spelling, does it affect your reading or is it easier? One for both are hard, two for reading is easier.”

The planchette wobbles for a second before it slides over between the two. ‘R-E-A-D-I-M-G-I-S-S-T-I-L-L-H-A-R-D.’ It spells out. ‘B-UT-N-O-T-A-S-H-A-R-D-A-S-S-P-E-L-I-M-G.’

You can sense the confusion in the room as you nod, already thinking of a plan. “Have you always struggled with reading and spelling?” ‘A-L-W-A-Y-S-B-U-T-I-N-J-U-S-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ You you’re your heart break slightly when they call themselves that. “Sweetheart, have you ever heard of the term dyslexia?” ‘No’. “It’s where your brain struggles to recognise letters or sounds, it makes it hard for people to read and write. They often miss letters or get letters mixed up, or sometimes even add letters that aren’t meant to be there.” You explain gently. “I think you may have the same kind my friend has. He reads a lot even though it’s a struggle, but if you get him to spell, he’s absolutely hopeless. Amazing at math, though. Like a walking calculator.” You smile as you get distracted before you shake your head and bring yourself back to the present. “I don’t think you’re stupid, love, I think perhaps your brain just isn’t wired to like letters and words.” You explain as you fiddle with your hands, unsure on where to put them. The planchette doesn’t move, but you can feel the air growing thicker.

‘N-O-T-S-T-U-P-I-D’ – the planchette draws a question mark over the entire board. You shake your head.

“Not stupid at all, pet.” A few seconds pass before the planchette moves over to the ‘Goodbye’ section. You sigh, slightly disappointed that they wanted to leave so soon. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You ran late to work the next day, replaying the conversation in your head with your resident ghost over and over again as it kept you up later and later into the night. Your plan wasn’t well thought out at this stage, but you could get things started.

You stay late after work to make up for the hour that you missed this morning before rushing to the bookshop, making it there 10 minutes before they closed. You found what you wanted and quickly purchased it before rushing home, making sure to grab something for dinner as you drive home.

The moment you arrived home and placed your bags by the front door, the house felt empty. For the first time since using the Ouija board, the house felt like you were the only one in it. Pulling out the Ouija board, you asked if they were here. Nothing. You put your fingers on the planchette. Nothing again. You call out to them to see if they were there, nothing. You sigh before packing it back up. Perhaps your new-found friend had moved on.

It was a few days before your ghostly friend returned. The house had felt barren the entire time they were gone, you had stopped bringing out the board the day they returned, figuring that they just weren’t going to come back. A loud crash from the living room caused you to run out from the kitchen where you were preparing dinner to see what had happened. On the floor was the Ouija board, set up and ready to go with the planchette moving wildly across the board, so fast you couldn’t keep up.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on.” You rush back upstairs to grab the item you had purchased for them the week prior before rushing back downstairs and putting it next to the board with a satisfying thud. “I got you a dictionary, they had one with pictures which I thought could help.” You explain to where you hoped the ghost was. You put a pen in front of the giant book. “Just…. point I guess to the word you want to say. If you want to try it this way that is, I thought it might be easier for you.”

The air seemed thick as you waited for something to move, the planchette or the book. Suddenly, the cover of the book seemed to gingerly open as the ghost slowly looked for the words he was looking for. ‘IT-IS-EASIER’ they indicated with the pen. You smile as the pages begin to turn in a flurry, clearly excited to be able to communicate with you a bit easier.

So, life continued. The ghost (who you later found out was a man) would follow you from room to room, carrying the pen and the book to indicate different words to you, making comments on nearly everything that he wasn’t able to before, from the shade of paint on your walls (he thought they should be green) to what you were wearing (he was really into you wearing stripes for some reason), he would readily give your opinion on everything. It was weird, but you could feel yourself slowly falling for the now forever talking ghost. The freedom that came with the dictionary meant that your conversations become more…. conversation like. He wasn’t restricted to just yes or no answers, and you weren’t restricted to staying in one room. You found yourself having dinners next to the constantly page flipping book and laughing at his bad jokes and giving some back of your own. You found small doodles on the outside of the dictionary too, his own little crude drawings he did when you weren’t home. It was nice, it felt like some kind of perverse kind of domestic.

It had been months since your initial contact with him, and you still didn’t know his name and, to be honest, it was beginning to bug you. You didn’t say or show your annoyance about not knowing his name, but you figured it was time you knew. So, when you came home that night and had set up your dinner in your usual set up, you finally decided to ask. “Can I know your name?”

It took a minute before your squatter decided to respond. ‘ORION-BRIGHT-STAR’.

“Orion’s brightest star?” You say, almost as a question as you pull out your phone to do a quick Google. “Beetlejuice?” You look up to see a fury of pages flying as he quickly makes his way over to the ‘A’ section of the dictionary.

‘AGAIN’

“Beetlejuice?”

The pen slams back down on the page. ‘AGAIN.’

You hesitate. “Beetlejuice?”

There was a crash, a bang, and way too much smoke that filled the room as bright green lights seemed to radiate from outside your house. You cough and wave your hand to clear the smoke from your mouth when you finally hear it.

“Thanks for that babes, I’ve been wanting you to see me for months now.” You blink before you see him. He was-

Cuter than you were expecting. Shorter too. Not the scary man you had envisioned, but rather an adorable guy dressed in arguably way too many stripes, even though it seemed to suit. The green in his hair was vibrant and his whole being seemed to shake with excitement. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to say.

“What’s wrong babes? Cat got your tongue?” He leans in closer to take a better look at you, but all you could focus on was the bright green of his eyes.

“You’re hotter than I imagined.” You heard yourself say before you turn bright, bright red. The grin on his face widens as he chuckles lowly, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh babes, we are going to have so much fun.”

#ama writes #ama's stuff #Beetlejuice the Musical #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice The Animated Series #Beetlejuice (1988)#Betelgeuse #Beetlejuice headcanons #beetlejuice the musical headcanons #headcanons #betelgeuse headcanons #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice/reader #betelgeuse/reader #betelgeuse x reader #beetlejuice x reader headcanons #beetlejuice/reader headcanons

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missbrightsky · 4 years

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I didn’t know where else to go

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Chapter 10: Feyre

Ughhhh, can’t a girl get some sleep around here? My phone ignored my internal bitching, continuing to ring. My fingers reached out, fumbling for it.

I didn’t bother looking at the caller, knowing who it was already. “Lucien,” I answered, my voice thick with sleep.

“There’s been reports of shots fired at the docks, looks like the Veritas could have been involved.”

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. “How can you know?” Adrenaline pounded through my system, waking me up. I had only gotten home barely an hour earlier, Cas dropping me off with a grin and a wink.

“Wishful thinking, mostly. Maybe a bit of a hunch,” Lucien admitted. “But this is a close area to where we think the Veritas base is…” I now knew that was nowhere close to true, it was several blocks north of where we were trying to narrow it down.

“You woke me up for a hunch?” trying to bring my heart rate back down, doing my best to put a grumble in the words to sell them.

“I know you need your beauty sleep,” he teased, sounding unfairly awake for the ungodly hour, “But I thought I should give you the heads up.”

I sighed, flipping onto my back to stare at the shadowy ceiling. “Thanks, Lucien. You want me to come meet you at the docks?”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered, the area was abandoned except for some bullet casings and tire marks. You need your sleep to heal from those bruises, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, call me if you need backup,” exhaustion pulling me down again despite the heart attack he almost gave me. The line went dead and I sank back against my pillows, relieved that there seemed to be almost no evidence of Veritas involvement from tonight.

Lucien didn’t mention the possibility of another group being there tonight. Had he not completely examined the scene yet? Or had he just assumed it was an internal Veritas skirmish?

Questions for the morning, Feyre, I reminded myself. I had been pushing myself hard the last few days and my body cried out for rest.

Slowly, I managed to sink down into sleep again, my dreams filled with clashing violet and green eyes.

The normal Monday flurry of activity greeted me when I stepped off the elevator at the precinct. The night shift shuffled by, heading home for sleep. Cops bustled back and forth, stopping to talk to others if they had a question. Those that had been arrested yowled obscene things from the bullpen every now and again. Typical for a day at Precinct 12.

Except now there was a huge board set up in the briefing room, covered in reports, clippings, photos and other various bits of paper.

“Uhhhhh Lucien?” I called to my partner who had beaten me our desks, “What’s this?” I took a few steps into the room, eyes darting across the board. They settled on a pair of violet eyes looking directly at whoever was taking the photo, a hint of mirth in them as though he knew who was taking the photo.

It was me. I took that photo on one of the first stakeouts with Lucien to get a handle on the new gang that had popped up in town. Just him knowing exactly when and where to look was the first hint that we were biting off more than we can chew. Rhysand Noc wasn’t running a new gang but an organized criminal enterprise with an MO of kidnapping scientists.

Rhysand Noc, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere in Velaris a week before, immediately started causing waves in the underbelly of the city with his family.

Rhysand Noc and his family that practically was laughing in our faces at how they were able to walk down the street without a care in the world because they knew we had nothing on the.

Helion had put the two of us on his tail soon after, ordering us to trail him and catch him as soon as possible with an arrestable offense.

Weeks went by and the only thing we saw him do was run a stop sign. And after bringing him in on that charge, it was clear he did it on purpose to feel us out. Get a look inside the precinct and how we think. He had been completely at ease the whole time, going as far as to flirt with me at one point. Had it not been for my stellar ability to grit my teeth and sit back, I might have been tempted to punch that smug look off his perfect face.

“Captain made the Veritas Crime Syndicate our top priority after the shooting last night. Even though there were no bodies or blood, it looks like they’re becoming more violent. Vargas and Boyle are now working with us on this.”

Velaris was a pretty big city but safer compared to those further down south. It had its standard run of the mill gangs and lowlife, but Rhys and his family and Amarantha went far beyond that. The oncoming storm might end up being one of the worst in this city’s long history.

The thought of that sent a shudder of ice crawling down my spine. When I joined the force, I knew I would be dealing with blackened and lost souls, seeing someone’s life spilled out on the cold ground, but a threat on this scale would be devastating for the citizens of Velaris.

Lucien had continued on in the background, oblivious to my dark, troubling thoughts. He followed me back to our desks, handing me the file from last night. Flipping through it, it didn’t have much information other than the facts from the scene and stipulations that the Veritas were involved.

There was one thing I had refused to let my conscious confront from last night until now.

Hot lips pressed against mine, strong hands pulling me closer.

I mentally shook myself, No, not that. The other thing, shoving Rhys far, far, far from my mind.

Tamlin.

He had been there last night, working for Amarantha.

And I had knocked him the fuck out. If I had to admit it, it felt damn good to drop him after all the shit he put me through.

I flashed a glance over at Lucien. His chin was propped on his hand, the other scrolling through whatever was making him grimace slightly. The morning light streaming in from the windows caught the gleam of glass from his left eye. Sometimes I completely forgot that he only had one eye having lost it when he was little. As close as we were, that was one story he hadn’t told me yet, the scars from it running deeper than the ones I could see.

I can’t tell him, not yet at least. Other than me, Tamlin was Lucien’s closest friend and that kind of pain might send him into a spiral that I can’t pull him out of. If I was lucky, and I rarely am, maybe Tamlin getting knocked out last night had made him realize the money wasn’t worth the pain and jail time.

A steady flow of work passed me by, Lucien and I leaving only once for a basic B&E scene and making it back before lunch.

It was in the break room where Captain Cartana found us. Despite the growing concern for the Veritas, he was practically glowing with happiness. And despite my growing concern for Rhys and Tamlin and everything else, his happiness was infectious, and a smile sprung to my face.

“Ready for your wedding this weekend, Captain?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be already.

“I wish it was tomorrow,” he answered, a slightly glazed look coming to his eyes when he thought of his fiancée. Lucien and I looked at each other and laughed, Helion was absolutely smitten with Leana.

“Anything else need to be done for the big day?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“Nope! Everything is made or booked or ordered, now all we have to do is count down the days,” that glazed look deepened, causing Lucien and I to groan our disgust, barely hiding out shaking shoulders.

That broke Helion out of it, a mock glare sweeping over us. Here was a man that had no shame in how much he loved his soon to be wife.

“Well, we’re excited to be there,” Lucien assured. Even though Helion could be a tough captain, he treated everyone under him fairly, encouraging trust and friendships to grow in the precinct. Lucien and I were practically the poster children for that fact after he put us on night shift duty for six months. Now nearing six years on the force and we had become close enough to the captain to be invited to the wedding, along with half of the precinct.

With a nod and a smile, Helion stood up and strode out of the room. And I’ll be damned if no one was watching, he would be skipping instead.

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#acotar #sjm #feyre #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #sarah j maas

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