Whiskey Girl Wendy

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Y'all be needin' a lil' liquid courage? Somethin' with a lil' kick? I'm the girl t' come to, sweetheart. Sit on down n' let Whiskey Girl grab ya a bottle.

brothersineternity:

whiskey-girl-maniac:

It was a brisk night in the desert. The cold seeped through the walls of the all but abandoned farm house on the outskirts of Ruggsville, Texas; the house smelled of rotting blood and decay, it hadn’t been cleaned since the Fireflies had been taken away… there was no point. The only sign of life was a pale face in one of the second floor windows. The delicate features were smeared with blood and chocolate brown eyes were turned up to the clear, starry sky.

Loneliness ached in Whiskey’s tattooed chest; an ache that had not stopped since coming home to find her new family gone. They had obviously been caught in the middle of a slaughter, the evidence still lay strewn across sticky red tables and walls. there were plenty of bodies within the rooms… but only one still had a heartbeat

It had become a kind of nightly ritual, for Whiskey to pray for the numb relief of death or at least sleep before retiring from the window to begin her nocturnal staring at the ceiling; from her place in the center of the bed she had once shared with her sister. Maybe tonight the powers that be would have mercy on her…

A slender young man stepped from what appeared to be the wall, looking curiously around the room with his head tilted in thought. In his preoccupation, he’d forgotten to shield himself from mortal eyes and was fully visible to the woman as he prowled around the space with his nose in the air. The stench of blood and death pervaded the air, smells he was used to, and he absently wondered why he’d felt a mortal longing for sleep in a place such as this. He’d have thought that it was more of a place for his brother to be called to.

His emaciated frame turned to the girl on the bed, and Hypnos suddenly realized his folly- he was visible. After a minute staring at her, he decide to shrug and go with it, smiling happily. Smoke drifted from the corner of his mouth, trailing and curling up to the ceiling even though there was no sign of a cigarette or cigar in his hand. The god inspected her for blood, looking for a reason she wanted to sleep in such a place as this, and found none.

"…Why’d you kill them?" He eventually asked, letting his smile fade into a smirk. As he spoke, more smoke drifted over his lips and created a mild haze around the boy’s face, obscuring his features the slightest bit. His jacket was much too large and his jeans were torn past the point of being fashionable. It almost looked like he’d been attacked and slashed at, and she was viewing the aftermath of the battle. “It’s a little odd to want to sleep in the same place. Police might find you,"

By now the sight of this strange man appearing from nowhere came as no surprise to the dark haired girl. Her lack of companionship and lunacy had brought her intangible company before… blank eyes slid to meet those of her visitor, her voice was calm and even.

"I didn’t kill them… My family did… but they’re gone now."  Shifting a bit, Whiskey’s slender from turned onto her side and she curled up in the spot usually occupied by her sister, Baby. "I stay because I miss them." Surely this figment of her imagination understood that, it made more sense than anything else.

(via brothersineternity-deactivated2)



asdfghjkl-phan:

the-mishas-have-the-phone-box:

i-think-i-m-adorable:

If you reblog this you’ll get a picture of Jensen Ackles in your inbox

image

That was fast.

imageshes not fucking around

(via nellieraintodd)



It was a brisk night in the desert. The cold seeped through the walls of the all but abandoned farm house on the outskirts of Ruggsville, Texas; the house smelled of rotting blood and decay, it hadn’t been cleaned since the Fireflies had been taken away… there was no point. The only sign of life was a pale face in one of the second floor windows. The delicate features were smeared with blood and chocolate brown eyes were turned up to the clear, starry sky.

Loneliness ached in Whiskey’s tattooed chest; an ache that had not stopped since coming home to find her new family gone. They had obviously been caught in the middle of a slaughter, the evidence still lay strewn across sticky red tables and walls. there were plenty of bodies within the rooms… but only one still had a heartbeat

It had become a kind of nightly ritual, for Whiskey to pray for the numb relief of death or at least sleep before retiring from the window to begin her nocturnal staring at the ceiling; from her place in the center of the bed she had once shared with her sister. Maybe tonight the powers that be would have mercy on her…



Tattooed hips rolled as tiny hands wrapped around the cold metal pole. Music with deep bass boomed around her as lights shifted from purple to blue. How had she come to this? Stripping in some seedy club in the dirty part of the city? Though Whiskey tried to fake that she was having fun… Tears still streaked eyeliner down her pale cheeks.



Whiskey stared in disbelief at the abandoned old farm house that had once housed her family. She had loved them… But they were gone. Tears slid from her eyes and dripped to the dusty ground, quickly followed by her knees. She crumbled in on herself, sobbing, screaming and smacking her hands against the sand. The police had taken Mama, Tiny, and RJ…. Baby and Otis had run off. The Pleasant Valley folks refused to acknowledge her existence now that she’d left. Whiskey Girl Wendy-Jo was completely alone… And she didn’t like it.



Sooooo… Whiskey doesn’t have a family anymore. They abandoned her. (they were deleted) She can’t handle being all alone, anyone want a mentally unstable cannibal?



howsboutahug:

How’d they remove the bullet from Carl’s stomach? 

Gypsy magic

(via howsboutahug-deactivated2013061)