#since i was using Sammy's drawing for a long while before this

[rainyreyn9]

A little late night flight between the trio :'3

This was heavily inspired by one of my lovely friend's drawings, I decided to draw it in my style as well with Artie being added in. Idk how correct his color palette is, but all I know is that we're all dual colored hair so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[bensbush]

My pirate AU drawing has been getting a lot of love, so I thought I'd share my ideas about each character within this universe!

Yaz's Crew: Brooklynn and Ben

Sammy's Crew: Darius and Kenji

Yasmina:

Runs a very organized ship

Super skilled with a sword

Worked as a member of the royal navy, and went rogue when she realized how corrupt their organization was. She often targets ships owned by the navy to steal supplies and anything else of value.

She's considered a major threat by authorities due to her knowledge of their system, and how successfully she uses that knowledge against them.

Has issues with teamwork sometimes, as well as trusting people to complete tasks up to her standards

Brooklynn:

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Was famous for leading her own crew, but after losing a battle to another infamous pirate, she lost her ship, her crew, and her hand.

Yaz found her drifting in the sea and brought her back to good health.

Her missing hand was replaced with a hook

She and Yaz clash sometimes because Brooklynn is used to being a leader, but with time they've learned to get along.

Ben:

Loves cannons and will find any excuse to fire them

Yaz saved him from imprisonment by another crew of pirates, and he was so grateful he pledged his loyalty to her forever (even though she didn't really want it). His background was pretty sheltered and comfortable, so he had a lot to learn about being a pirate.

Bumpy is his pet crocodile, he found her as an egg and raised her on Yaz's ship. Yaz and Brooklynn freaked out when they saw her for the first time and told Ben to chuck her in the ocean. He set Bumpy free, but she follows the ship everywhere because she sees Ben as her mother.

Sammy:

A bit of an unexperienced leader, but her attitude makes up for it most of the time

Skills in carpentry have saved her ship from sinking on multiple occasions

Became a pirate to fight back against a crew that targeted her village and her family. After winning the fight, she was able to take over the ship, form a crew, and travel around to more towns in need of defending.

Her intentions are often misunderstood because through word of mouth, a lot gets mixed up. Her association with village raids gets her in trouble, even though it's her apprehending the raiders.

Darius:

Most recent addition to Sammy's crew

Has great aim with a pistol

Wanted to study sea creatures, but didn't have the money for higher education. When Sammy stopped at his village, he snuck on the boat to see it up close. The boat left the port while he was still on it.

Sammy was impressed that Darius was able to go unnoticed for so long, and she offered him a place in her crew. Darius was conflicted because it meant it would be a long time before he saw his family again, but living at sea was the future he'd wished for since he was a kid.

Brand was distraught when Darius went missing. He finds out he's alive by seeing him on a wanted poster.

Kenji:

Likes hanging out in the crow's nest

There is no financial reason he needed to become a pirate, he came from a rich family. He got into a big fight with his father one night and went to a bar to get drunk, which is how he met Sammy. They got along instantly, and he impulsively agreed to join her crew to get away from his dad.

He regretted joining the crew once he realized he'd have to work

The sense of community on the boat gave him a reason to stay, they were like his first real family

I wish I had the commitment to write a fanfic about this, but knowing myself I don't! Someone else is gonna have to step up and take one for the team

[clonedchaos]

Ripple Effect

Orchids and Oranges: A Yasammy Week Special

Yippee! It's Yasammy Week, brought to you by @yasammyweek! Pardon the late kickoff, had to attend my sister's bridal shower today as well as writing this 2,000 word one shot in one day. I know most ppl here are doing art, but I can't draw, so fanfic it is! Enjoy! <3

Day 1: Hurt/Comfort

Rating: G/PG

Summary: Yaz thought she had left the dinosaurs behind. She thought it was time for her to finally heal… until she came face to face with one on the mainland.

AO3 Version:

Tumblr Version:

Yaz wrapped her arms tighter around Sammy’s waist as she gradually got used to the fluid movement of the stallion below them. The saddle wasn’t the most comfortable or practical of inventions, but Sammy had insisted it was far better than riding bare back.

Yaz let her gaze wander as a smile crossed her lips and her heart gave a little flutter. The maple trees surrounding them were colored in vibrant shades of orange, red, and brown. Despite fall coming to a close, Texas was still as humid as ever. It was the polar opposite of her home upstate— the moment it hit October, the temperature would plummet. 

Yaz had gotten used to the frigid air over the years thanks to her daily morning runs. She would be quite out of her element down here if it weren’t for the months she spent stuck on a tropical island. She’d take the Texas heat over Nublar’s every single time.

And, of course, she loved Texas because of Sammy. Her parents had been the textbook definition of southern hospitality ever since Yaz came down to spend the week with them. Sammy had been a hurricane of energy and enthusiasm ever since her arrival. She talked a mile a minute at any possible opportunity and paraded Yaz around to see every nook and cranny of their land. It had been fun; she knew Sammy had been waiting a long time to introduce her officially to her family-- cattle included.

A pleasant breeze brushed past them, Sammy’s hair tickling Yaz’s nose. Yaz sneezed, the sheer power of the act nearly sending her reeling backwards.

”Bless you!” Sammy immediately chimed in, looking over her shoulder. Her hands held the reins in a loose grip as the stallion came to a stop. His ears and tail twitched. Yaz’s behavior had irked him.

“Sorry about that, bud,” She apologized, patting the horse on the flank. A whistle and nudge from Sammy ushered the stallion forward again. 

The cowgirl kept her eyes on her girlfriend. Yaz felt that wasn’t the appropriate course of action given she was the one guiding the horse down the path. It seemed almost as dangerous as taking your eyes off the road while driving.

”The trees are mighty beautiful, aren’t they?” Sammy cooed with a grin. She reached forward and plucked a leaf out of Yaz’s hair. How long had that been in there?

”It is beautiful, Sammy,” Yaz admitted. Truly, the scenery was gorgeous. The Gutierrez’s land was pure nature’s bliss, all 700 acres of it. She liked to call it “The Eight Wonder of the World.”

Sammy glanced up towards the sky, its colors glowing with muted hues of pink, blue, and purple. “It’s gettin’ late. Perhaps we should head back to the stable.” Her gaze darted to and fro before she leaned forward and whispered, “Ol Kota’s eyesight isn’t as great as it once was.”

Kota nickered in response. Yaz snorted. “I think he heard you.”

"Oh, that wasn't an insult, boy!" Sammy quickly corrected sheepishly, getting a chuckle out of Yaz. Sammy's baby talk toward her critters wasn't at all meant to be taken seriously, but Yaz couldn't help but think it was adorable. 

“I suppose you’re right. Hey, think I could beat Kota in a race?” Yaz asked with a clear undertone of a challenge. If he galloped at full speed, she knew he would be able to overtake her effortlessly. But at his old age, she might just have a chance if he were to trot.

Sammy’s eyes shone as she turned her attention back onto Yaz. “Oh, that’s a gre—“

Kota saw the Triceratops first. The elder stallion reared up onto his back legs. Yaz lost her grip on Sammy and hit the ground hard. The breath drew out of her lungs, leaving her momentarily stunned at the blunt impact. Surely that was going to leave a sizable bruise on her tailbone.

”Woah, boy! Easy… Easy!” Sammy yelped as she tightened the reins and fought for control. Yaz instinctively rolled to the side to avoid getting trampled on by hooves, just barely scraping by with nothing more than a dust cloud in her face.

With her chest heaving in gulps of air, Yaz finally lifted her gaze toward the instigator. A bulky Triceratops stood before them in the path, its head lowered and grazing on the sparse patches of grass that sprung up from the dirt trail. At the stallion’s cry of fear, the herbivore lifted its head. Its horns glinted off the dying sunlight’s rays, the tips sharpened points that could skewer her should the animal desire.

Yaz didn’t know why, but she screamed. She screamed a blood curdling cry that sent the nearby birds scattering. Her hands tore up clumps of dirt as she balled them into a fist. Her heart pounded, she could hear it in her ears and feel the blood coursing through her veins. It was getting hard to breathe. Why could she not breathe? Why couldn't she think? Why was her vision spinning? Was it a concussion, or was she losing it?

The Triceratops bellowed and raked its front leg on the ground. Despite being in fear’s clutches, Yaz subconsciously knew it was about to charge. Suddenly the aspect of getting trampled by a horse seemed far more appealing.

The Triceratops stomped forward, waving its horns threateningly. Yaz couldn’t move. She wanted to pull herself off the ground and bolt toward the nearest tree. She wanted to be safe, to be inside, to be far away from this prehistoric beast. But her body was rooted to the floor, tied down by unseen vines. Despite the adrenaline pulsing through her veins and the chilling numbness of her hands, she could only watch powerlessly as she sat directly in the line of fire.

“Yaz!” Sammy was suddenly right by her side on horseback. Quite literally her knight in shining armor. She extended a hand down to her. Yaz felt a sharp pierce plunge through her heart at the palpable fear she found lying behind Sammy's eyes. “Come on!”

Yaz still felt frozen by invisible roots. She wanted to reach for Sammy. She wanted them to huddle under the blanket fort Sammy had insisted they build in her room last night. Her and Sammy had been at checkers for nearly two hours before Sammy’s mother had called them down for dinner. She wanted to wake up in the morning and breathe in the aroma of fresh, fluffy cinnamon rolls and salted, crisp bacon. Would she ever partake in these memories again? Or would they be snuffed out, much like her life might very well be. If only she could just…

MOVE!

With one hand wrapped around the stirrup, Sammy leaned down and grabbed Yaz by the arm. Yaz knew her girlfriend was strong, like really really strong. Calling her "country strong" wasn't just a cute pet name, it was a fact.

Sammy's rapid maneuver was enough to nudge Yaz up and back into the saddle. With a quick snap of the reins and click of her heels, Sammy ushered Kota forward. The trike missed them by a hair, nearly getting clocked on the muzzle by the stallion's hooves.

Yaz had her arms wrapped around Sammy in a death grip, her face buried against her wool jacket. It felt like she was holding her breath for every second until they had made it safely to the barn. Her chest was tight and sweat rolled down the side of her head. She could barely feel her fingers besides the buzzing, staticky feeling she noticed there.

"Yaz?" 

She looked up with rounded eyes. Sammy released the reins and kicked her leg up and over as she dismounted. Immediately, she turned and extended a hand toward Yaz in a gesture of assistance. "Are you okay?"

No. No she wasn't. With a shaky breath and trembling hand, she reached out. Sammy's hands were worn with numerous callouses; no doubt a result from her long days of working hard on the ranch. Her fingers intertwined with Yaz's. At the touch, the dam holding back her tears finally broke. Yaz sank to her knees and began to sob.

Sammy was right there, kneeling down and pulling her into an embrace. "It's okay, Yaz. I'm here," She cooed, gently rubbing her back in a circular motion. 

Yaz nestled closer to her, hoping Sammy's very presence would be enough to chase away her inner demons. "I... I thought... I thought we'd be done with dinosaurs," She admitted weakly. She hated feeling like this. Vulnerable. It was like she was a little kid all over again; someone who needed to be coddled and comforted by her mother.

"I know..." Sammy replied sympathetically as she rested her head against Yaz's. "I wasn't expecting to see a trike so close to home."

It was getting a little easier to breathe now. Just a little. "Why? Why is it here?" She choked out, closing her eyes.

Sammy grew silent. Yaz didn't expect her to answer that rhetorical question. After all, how in the world would she know what a dinosaur was doing hundreds of miles from Nublar?

Rather, Sammy began to hum. Her tone lilted in a melancholic sway. Yaz seemed momentarily taken aback as her heartbeat began to steady and her limbs slackened. With every rise and fall in tempo, Yaz begun to notice an unmistakable pattern in the rhythm.

Yaz leaned back and cupped Sammy's cheek in her hand. Her eyes still stung, and she knew she probably looked like a bedraggled mess. Right now, that didn't matter. "How do you know that song?"

Sammy leaned into Yaz's touch. "Your mother taught it to me. She knows you've been having a tough time since the island..." She trailed off and averted her gaze.

Yaz relaxed her features and silently urged Sammy to continue. "She told me it used to help you when you were little... and I thought it might help in this situation," She murmured sheepishly and rubbed her arm in embarrassment with flushed cheeks.

Yaz cracked a gentle smile at that and swiftly planted a kiss atop her forehead. "It did help. I'm sorry. For freezing like that..."

"Hey, none of that," Sammy lectured sternly with a good-natured smile. She held both of Yaz's hands in her own. "Just because we're off the island, it doesn't mean those feelings just up and disappeared. But I know you, Yaz. You're the bravest, most stubborn fighter I know. We just need to take baby steps again."

Baby steps. Right. It was like running a marathon; you don't go full sprint right off the bat. You pace yourself until you're further along with the finish line in sight.

"It just... surprised me is all," Yaz continued. The fireflies casted a gentle, infrequent glow across the purple and blue painted sky. "I thought I would be over this. But what if...? What if there are more dinosaurs?" Particularly the ones that would have them for a midnight snack.

"I don't know," Sammy admitted, returning the kiss on Yaz's forehead. "But what I do know is that I'm here if you ever need me. We conquered Nublar together. And if dinosaurs are on the mainland now, we'll conquer that together too. You're stronger than your fears."

Yaz smiled and pulled Sammy close. There was one constant in her life when it came to dinosaurs: Sammy. When her PTSD got the better of her on Manta Corp's island, she was there to help ease her nerves and shift her attention toward other matters. Even if they were states apart, she knew Sammy would just be a phone call away. And that was enough.

"I'll always be here for you, mi rosa. For now, and forever."

[desmond69miles]

Hi there!

Can I ask for an ink demon x reader headcanons for a chubby fem reader who’s really cuddly and sweet, but can’t always portray her emotions correctly? You can do SFW and/or NSFW, it’s up to you! But I’m in the mood for something cutesy and fluffy!

Also, I love your content, have a great day/night! ^^

It's been a little since last posting and asks have been marinating in the ask box for awhile... It's finally time to get them done in some spring cleaning.

And as always, thank you for your ask! I apologize for taking a literal lightyear - shits been INSANE.

Warnings/Tags: No big warnings! Major fluff, hints at reader being autistic. No NSFW!

[-: Starting off strong, your relationship with Bendy is a little rocky to start. Both of you poorly communicate your emotions. The Ink Demon being the Ink Demon, he's not always open for cuddles, hugs, and kisses, and struggles to properly set the boundary for when it's okay for physical intimacy. Most often him setting a boundary is a violent growl and a snap of his teeth; not the most welcoming thing. And of course, you can't properly communicate that it's hurtful (and scary) when he responds that way to your affection so most instances end in separation and the silent treatment.

[-: I do think that the more you were around each other and the more you got used to each others patterns/behaviors, communication would become easier and less vocalized, more shown throughout body language, especially on Bendy's part. His major communication is through body language, not spoken words, much like any animal (and there are verbal cues such as a low growl - meaning 'space, please' - a hiss - meaning 'I'm getting pissed' - and your personal favorite, a quiet trill meaning 'show me some affection').

[-: I can imagine some frustration on both your end and the Ink Demons, this is new to the both of you. Thankfully Sammy is there to give some pointers on how not to be mauled by his lord (which works a lot better for you). But as I said above, time, effort, praise, and unconditional love will make everything easier.

[-: Oh my lord, I know Bendy would be very stubborn even if communication was therapist approved. Like, imagine this,,

It's the middle of the night. Or, at least you think so; there's no real way to tell time this deep down in the studio. It was a very, very long day of walking, fighting for your life, and dealing with Sammy and there was nothing more you wanted than a hot bath and to curl up with your inky lover. The bath was achieved successfully, Bendy sat by the tub and played with a rubber duck while you relaxed and climbing in bed was fairly easy as well. Half way into your sleep though, your eyes opened to the sound of crunching. This wasn't like a bag of chips crunching or like paper, no, it was... hard. Boney, if you would.

"Bendy, what the hell are you chewing on?"

"A bone."

"...Can you stop?"

"...No."

[-: Back onto the cuddly and sweet part, I think that Bendy would like that in moderation. He needs his space occasionally as I said before, but I do think he'd curl up against you like a huge dog (in the middle of the night you'd wake up to him licking your arm but that's besides the point). PDA around the studio is a heavy no no but in closed doors, in strictly demon domain, the Ink Demon doesn't mind if you cling to his arm (more likely leg, have you seen how tall he is?) while he draws/chills.

And... I got no more inside my brain.

Thank you guys for reading <3 Comments/Reblogs are like cocaine please keep them coming

[motelsnleatherseats]

A new school year was on the horizon as the summer days were coming to an end. Dean had spent the weekend with Sam dreading it and complaining, asking why he couldn't just get his GED like Dean did so he wouldn't have to worry about school anymore, but John wouldn't stand for it, and if there was anyone in the Winchester bloodline that was gonna actually graduate and get their diploma, it was going to be Sam. Plus it kept Sam busy and out of trouble on the days where he'd bring Dean along on a hunt. But he was going to do it the right way, Dean would make sure of it.

"What are you going to do while I'm at school?"

Dean breathed out a long exhale as his fingers idly massaged the back of Sam's scalp as he rested his head on his chest. He was half-laid up on him in a familiar and comfortable position. The television was off with the distant sounds of cars passing along the main road outside of the motel granting them occasional background noise.

"Might find some part time work. Hustle or whatever," Dean commented as his eyes fell shut. It had to be approaching midnight.

He'd find a way to keep himself busy, but he knew he'd always have to be available if John called and needed something. He could potentially pick up a local case if one ever presented itself, but his main objective was just to keep an eye on Sammy.

"Kinda miss when you were with me at school," Sam commented and Dean gave a short laugh.

"Speak for yourself," he replied. "You're the smart one. Tests and books ain't really my gig. Plus the teachers were nothin' like they were in pornos." Dean cracked one eye open to gaze at Sam with a half grin.

"Shut up," Sam spoke as he nudged him before he shifted his glance up towards Dean, moving his hand to draw little patterns against his chest with his index finger. "You're smart too, y'know. I just meant I'm gonna miss not being around you all the time."

"I'm still gonna pick you up and drop you off, it won't be that long. I'm actually kinda shocked you're not sick of me already." Dean moved his hand to cover Sam's against his chest before he curled his fingers against his palm.

Sam went quiet for a moment as he seemed to mull over Dean's comment, pinching his lips together as if sealing off the words that sat on the tip of his tongue. He recognized the look, the little pouty expression that his little brother used to get when he'd spend too much time chatting up girls before this whole thing between them got started.

"Sammy."

"You're not gonna find someone else while I'm not around, are you?" Sam responded abruptly. Dean gave a laugh, much to Sam's dismay because he was met with a petulant scowl and a whine.

"Seriously? C'mon, man, I'm not gonna go prowling for chicks while you're at school," Dean replied with a lift of his eyebrows. He may have had that reputation before, but Sam was in the picture now. Even if he had contemplated the seriousness of their situation, he knew that Sam's jealousy and possessiveness would be hell to deal with if he even considered getting something on the side.

"Promise?" Those damn puppy eyes. Dean lifted his hand to cup his cheek before he leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

"I promise. Now let's get to sleep, gotta get up early to get you to school tomorrow."

The day dragged on longer than Dean expected it to. After a morning of Sam seducing him with heated make out sessions and heavy petting to try and convince him to let him stay home, Dean found himself hesitant to drive away even after his brother had walked through the main doors of the school. They hadn't really had a conversation about what they were in terms of a relationship, but Dean had an inkling that Sam would classify them as exclusively together. That didn't really bother him, in all honesty. Ever since they had their first kiss, Dean's eyes found themselves fixated on his brother more than anything, and any desire that he used to have when it came to flings or one-night stands had basically disappeared completely. What did bother him was the fact that Sam was still so young, and maybe the feelings he had towards Dean were getting wires crossed somewhere and he was mistaking his familial bond and reliance on Dean to take care of him as something on the more romantic side. A new school year meant a new opportunity for Sam to meet other people, and maybe that'd be good for him.

By the time the school day came to an end, Dean had posted up outside against the Impala, glancing at his watch to count down the minutes before a rush of kids would come flooding out of the doors.

"Dean Winchester?"

Dean turned his head in the direction of the familiar voice, his eyes falling on a pretty brunette with a pretty smile heading his way.

"Rhonda?"

"I thought that was you. I mean, kinda hard to miss with the car and all," she retorted as she came up to him as he pushed himself from the car, turning to face her better. "Thought you were leaving town before summer," she chided, giving him a playful push against his shoulder.

"Ah, yeah," Dean chuckled, giving an ostentatious shrug of his shoulders and a signature cocksure smile. "Plans changed. Dad's job kept him around longer than expected. What are you doing here?"

"Uh huh, and here I thought you were just making something up to let me down easy," Rhonda responded with a tilt of her head, but that smile still remained on her lips. Shit, she was flirting. "Picking up my sister, she's a freshman this year."

"Oh yeah, uh.. Darla, right?"

"Mhmm. And you're here for... Sam?"

"Sammy, yeah," Dean spoke, and is if on cue, the bell had rang and students started the migration out of school. Dean shifted a bit, shoving his hands in his pockets as he glanced towards the doors to scan for his brother.

"How could I forget?" Rhonda said with a grin before she stepped into Dean's personal space and nudged his arm with hers, drawing his attention back down to her. "Well you know, since you're hanging around a little longer, maybe we could get together? Catch a movie or something?" She offered. Dean felt a small clench in his chest, something akin to uneasiness. "I picked up a couple more things from the lingerie store," she added in a whisper and Dean's cheeks grew hot.

"Hey, hey, that was a one time thing," Dean replied with a nervous laugh, clearing his throat afterward.

"I know, I was talking about for me," she purred.

"Dean?"

Dean whirled around like he had just been caught in the act, Sam standing on the other side of the Impala with his eyes going back and forth between the both of them.

"O-oh, hey, Sam. How was school, are you ready to go?" Dean asked and stepped away from Rhonda, moving to open the passenger door for Sam who was on the brink of staring daggers at him. "C'mon, let's go grab something to eat, huh?" He offered as he ushered Sam to get in with a short huff of a protest from his little brother. He moved back around to the driver's side where Rhonda was still standing, watching him with an inquisitive gaze. He awkwardly slid passed her and against the car to get to the door before flashing her an uncomfortable smile. "Sorry, we gotta go. It was, ah.. nice running into you," Dean spoke before he climbed into the car.

"Yeah, same here..." Rhonda trailed off, lowering herself a bit to gaze better through the window at him. "Call me sometime, yeah?"

Dean gave a tight lipped smile and a half nod of his head before he watched her walk off and flag down her sister before they had gotten into their own car. He sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few long moments, feeling Sam's eyes boring holes through him.

"What the hell was that?"

"Nothing. She just recognized me from a few months back, came over to say hi," Dean answered, starting the car before he pulled them onto the road, all but peeling out of the spot.

"'Call me?' Did you have a thing with her?" Sam asked, his arms tucked tightly over his chest with his back against the passenger door, keeping as much distance as he could between them to display his trepidation about the whole situation.

"What? No, Sam, c'mon," Dean retorted with a snort. "I mean, well.. once, but it was a long time ago, way before you and I even started doing anything," Dean defended himself, chancing a glance towards Sam. He looked pissed. "Look, she just came over to say hi, that's all, I swear. I'm not gonna call her," he continued, doing his best to convince Sam that it wasn't even a notion that crossed his mind.

The silence persisted. Sam was good at giving the cold shoulder, but he felt that this was probably gonna be worse than just a few hours of no conversation given the fact that Sam had expressed this particular concern the night before. As each second passed, the pit in Dean's stomach grew.

"What's her name?" Sam asked, voice too calm for Dean's liking. He contemplated on asking why he wanted to know or just changing the subject, but there was no point in lying to Sam or avoiding the situation. Whether or not it was his fault, he had gotten caught red handed.

"...Rhonda Hurley."

"Hm."

An uneasiness settled in Dean's shoulders as Sam seemed to signify the end of the conversation with his nonplussed sound of a response. His fingers itched to reach for the radio to do something to cut the silence, but that would have been a bad move as well. They were half-way to the motel before Dean found his voice again.

"Wanna get something to eat?" He offered, voice soft and apologetic.

"Drop me off at the library," Sam retorted.

"What? Why? It's the first day of school." Dean looked at Sam with his eyebrows furrowed. "You're mad at me."

"Just drop me off, please. It's for school," Sam responded, his gaze still out the window, refusing to give his brother any read into his feelings at that moment.

Defeated, Dean sighed and drove towards the public library as requested, though he wasn't happy about it. He wanted to further explain himself, to make sure that Sam knew he had no intention of calling her and if he were to ever run into her in public again that he'd dip out as quick as he could, because being on Sam's shit list wasn't worth it. Once they pulled up, Dean put his arm against the back of the front seat bench and leaned a little closer to Sam.

"Want me to come in and wait for you?" Dean offered and Sam had turned to look at him, his expression still indecipherable. He noticed how his eyes flickered to Dean's lips for a moment he took that cue to lean in for a kiss, but Sam was quicker and had pulled the door open and slid out, leaving Dean awkwardly bent over the center and watching as Sam took a few steps back.

"Don't wait up."

"Sam.. Sam! Hey!" Dean called out, frowning before Sam turned to walk backwards as he headed towards the library. "Call me to come get you, okay?"

Dean was met with a roll of his eyes before Sam had turned back around and headed inside. He was in deep shit and he knew it.

Against Dean's best judgment, he drove away from the library, beating himself up about even letting Rhonda come over to say anything. How could he have known that he'd run into her, let alone have her be trying to get up close and personal right as Sam walked up? He didn't actually do anything, he shouldn't have anything to feel guilty over. He went back and forth of feeling deserving of punishment and coming up with an argument to plead his case to Sam once he gone to pick him back up again, but the guilt laid heavy on his shoulders. He checked his cell phone every 2 minutes to see if maybe somehow the ringer was dysfunctional or maybe his phone was dead, but he knew Sam was making him suffer. An attempt at watching TV was made, but he couldn't focus. His knee bounced nervously, eyes unfocused on the screen before he just turned it off and paced a bit. After an hour of waiting around, Dean knew he had to keep himself preoccupied with something else, so he left the motel and went to the nearest diner to pick up some food for the both of them. Something healthy that Sam liked, even one of those health conscious shakes Dean thought tasted like lawn mowings, just to get on his good side.

Another hour had passed and their food was growing cold on the table. One more glance at his cell phone had him reaching for his keys, the metal digging into his palm hard as he went to pull open the door before someone else had beat him to it, nearly hitting him in the face. Sam stopped abruptly, obviously not expecting to see Dean there.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing? I was gonna come and haul your ass outta the library. Why didn't you call me?" Dean asked, though he was relieved that Sam had actually come back.

"I told you not to wait up," Sam responded as he shouldered passed him, throwing his back pack onto the floor by his bed before he flopped back on it.

"Yeah, okay. Like I'm still not gonna worry." Dean watched Sam as if waiting for a further explanation, or just something other than disinterest. He sighed as he received a shrug in return. "Are we not gonna talk about earlier?"

"What's there to talk about?" Sam asked, giving a slow blink as he regarded Dean, eyebrows raised slightly. "You said you weren't going to see her, right?"

"Yeah, but I can tell you're pissed about it," Dean responded, caught a little off guard, though relieved that he wasn't going to make a big deal over it.

"Then that's it, isn't it? I believe you." 

Dean's eyes narrowed. This was too easy.

"That's it? You're not mad, then?"

"I'm not mad."

"Okay... well, I got you some food if you're hungry," Dean replied, though still wary of Sam's current emotional state.

"Thanks," Sam replied, flashing a hint of a smile that did nothing to dissolve the pit in Dean's stomach.

Dean had decided to leave the conversation at that, not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Sam wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, then there was no need to further plead his case. Maybe Sam was getting better about his little jealousy issues. Hell, he was impressed Sam didn't tackle her upon seeing them talking to begin with in the way he used to act out when he was vying for Dean's attention. Or he was still mad at him and he was putting on one hell of a poker face. He tried not to dwell on the thought for too long even as he stole glances towards his brother to try and get a better reading on him.

The rest of the evening passed quietly, both of them eating in their own time and winding down from the day. Dean had showered first before he had gotten himself ready for sleep, slipping into his designated side of the bed as he heard Sam showering up after he brushed his teeth. He stared at the bathroom door, seconds ticking away feeling like minutes before the creak of the door was heard and Sam stepped out, dressed in his boxers with his damp hair curling by his ears. Dean wanted to ask if he was going to join him, but he swallowed the bit of vulnerability, wanting Sam to make the conscious decision himself.

Relief was an understatement when Sam crawled into the same bed and pressed his form up against Dean's, fitting himself as the little spoon. He curled his arm around his torso and buried his face against the back of his little brother's neck, giving a deep inhale of off brand shampoo and bar soap.

"Did you fuck her?" Sam asked in a voice so quiet Dean wasn't sure he heard right.

"What?" He lifted his head some to gaze at Sam's profile.

"Did you fuck her?" He asked again before he turned his head to meet Dean's eyes. Dean stared for a beat, unsure of how to answer, but Sam's eyes were demanding of a truthful response.

"Yeah," Dean replied remorsefully. 

Sam rolled his smaller frame to face his brother, another unreadable expression there as he moved a hand to reach for the amulet around his neck, toying with the adornment. Dean wasn't sure what else to say so he simply moved his hand to caress along his arm in an apologetic manner. Really, he had nothing to be sorry for. Sam knew what Dean's sexual appetite was like long before he had shown any remote interest in Dean or what he was doing with other people. Still, there was a part of him that felt guilty, because he was sure he was all of Sam's firsts, and Sam would never get to lay claim on any of Dean's.

Sam gave a little tug to the amulet in his fingers, tipping his head up to press his lips to Dean's, earning a small sound of surprise from the elder, because where did that come from? Grateful that Sam wasn't punishing him for his truthfulness, he leaned into it and let his eyes close. Sam was quick to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and welcoming Dean to do the same before their tongues grazed one another, the subtle lingering of mint there. Dean moved his arm to curl around his brother's middle, pulling him against him better before Sam rolled on top of him and gave a soft moan. His hand went to reach for the bedside table to turn off the light but Sam reached out to grip his wrist, giving a soft 'mm-mhh' before he lifted his head.

"Did you do it with the lights off with her?" Sam asked, voice a touch breathy. Dean responded with a soft, discontent groan as he tipped his head back with a roll of his eyes, not wanting to think or talk about Rhonda Hurley anymore. "Tell me, I want to know," Sam urged with a roll of his hips down against his groin, this time earning a pleasured groan from Dean's parted lips.

"Y-yeah, Sammy.. lights off," he exhaled, moving his hands down to Sam's hips where he gripped and gave a tender squeeze, pushing his own hips up for more friction.

"Did she suck your cock?" Sam asked, lifting his form to sit up as he straddled Dean and he gave deep rolls of his hips. Dean bit down on his bottom lip as he felt his cock begin to fatten under the pressure of Sam's actions and he slid his hands up along his sides, having a hard time participating in the conversation.

"Jesus, Sam," he exhaled, his green eyes wide as he gazed up at his little brother, a mix between turned on and concerned. It was hard to enjoy dirty talk when it was about someone else. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I wanna do it better," Sam replied as he leaned down and kissed Dean once more before he slid his body down his brother's thighs, trailing his hands down his torso until they were at the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. Far be it for Dean to turn down a blow job, but Sam's fixation on what he did with Rhonda was making it feel like some kind of non-existent competition. Sam would win. Every. Single. Time.

"Wait, wait," Dean interjected as he reached down to grip one of the other's wrists, shifting to sit up on his elbows as he gazed down at him. "She's never gonna compare to you. No matter what. You don't have to be better than anyone."

"Then why don't you want to have sex with me?"

Dean's chest felt heavy with the weight of Sam's question. He had put off actually doing the deed with him because somewhere deep down inside, he was afraid that Sam would change his mind about this intimate relationship they had delved into, but now Little Brother was becoming impatient. He fell back against the bed with a sigh before his arm came over his eyes.

"Is it because I'm not a girl? Because I'm not pretty or have tits and a pussy?" Dean could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"No, God no, that's not it at all," Dean replied quickly, dropping his arm and angling his head to meet Sam's gaze once more. Not pretty? Fucking hilarious. "I just.. want to make sure you're ready. That you're not gonna, y'know, hate me for it afterward or change your mind."

"Why would I change my mind? I'm the one that came onto you," Sam spoke, the edge now missing from his tone.

"Because you're young? Because you're confused? I don't know, I worry about shit like that all the time," Dean admitted, silently beating himself up for being a professional boner killer in that instance.

"Are you confused?" Sam asked.

"No.. actually I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Dean replied. If he had to compare everything that he ever felt towards anyone he took to bed, or anyone in general, nothing could hold a flame for what he felt towards his brother. Somewhere along the way of taking care of Sam, of practically raising him, he had put him on a pedestal. Sam was to be treasured, to be revered, to be worshipped, and who better to do that than Dean himself?

"Okay," Sam replied before he flashed him a smile. Okay? Okay??? That's all he could say in response?

"Okay what?"

"Okay, then just shut up and let me suck your cock."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in response, words failing him in that moment as Sam resumed what he had originally planned by curling his fingers in Dean's boxers and tugging them down, letting his cock spring free from the thin material. A soft groan left the elder's lips as he felt Sam curl his fingers around his length, holding it upright before he wrapped his lips around the head, the first touch of wet heat sending a shockwave of pleasure through him. 

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean breathed, moving a hand down to push his fingers through his still damp locks, tightening a bit at his scalp as he felt him descend on his arousal, the velvety sensation of his tongue and cheeks making the muscles in his stomach quiver. His teeth bit down on his bottom lip as he inhaled through his nose and exhaled a pleasured sound, watching as Sam tried to take as much as he could into the depths of his mouth, the head nudging the back of his throat and making him lift his head a bit from fear of gagging. "Just.. relax your throat a bit and breathe through your nose," Dean guided, giving another moan as Sam did as he was told, now starting to bob his head.

He had seen plenty of girls go down on him, some more enthusiastically, some with a hell of a lot more experience, but nothing looked or felt better than watching Sam suck his cock. The sight alone made his length throb against his tongue, his thighs tensing slightly as his toes curled against the sheets. The wet sounds were like music to his ears as they were paired with soft little hums and gentle gags when he took too much, but it was perfect. He gave his praises through tender tugs of his hair and groans of pleasure, all while resisting the urge to raise his hips.

Sam pulled up after a few long moments of concentrated bobbing to take a breath. His lips were glossy with saliva and slightly more plump than they usually were with a thick line connecting his bottom one to the head of his cock. Then he grinned up at Dean, mouth poised so close to the engorged head that it gave another throb in his grasp.

"Am I doing okay?" Sam asked, cheeks a little flushed, and God, he's never looked prettier.

"What do you think?" Dean asked as he lifted his hips some to get his cock to slip within his brother's grasp, the hardness against his palm a clear indicator that he was doing a fine job.

"Can we..?" Sam asked, expression so hopeful, how could Dean ever say no? If Sam thought he was ready for it, then Dean would give that to him. He deserved that much.

Dean licked his lips and swallowed, holding his gaze for a long moment before he nodded his head.

"Yeah, c'mere baby," he replied, coaxing Sam back up his form before their lips had joined in another embrace, Dean rolling them over to have Sam on his back. He kissed him with a deep seated hunger, licking into the pink of his mouth as he savored every sensation, his heart beginning to pick up pace the closer they got to sealing the deal. He kissed down his brother's throat as his teeth scraped gently over the thrum of his pulse, earning soft mewls from Sam as he arched up against him. His hands made quick work in discarding their boxers, now a tangle of limbs in the sheets. Dean fit between Sam's thighs, grinding their arousals together as he moved one hand to push under the bend of Sam's knee to bring his legs further apart before he trailed his fingers inward to caress against his sweet little hole.

"You touch yourself here?" Dean asked as he lifted his head, gazing down at Sam who had circled his arms around his neck and gave him a nod as he bit down on his bottom lip.

"Yeah.. just my fingers.. wanted to be ready for you," he divulged, his cheeks taking on more of a pink hue. Dean smiled, bordering on a smirk before he stole one more kiss and detangled them briefly.

He got himself up from the bed with reluctance, but if they were going to do this, he was going to make sure that Sam was comfortable. He rummaged through his duffel for a small bottle of lube he kept stashed, coming back to his brother and resuming his position.

"You still want the light on?" he asked as he uncapped it and smeared some of the clear substance on his fingers. Sam nodded and spread his thighs for him, his lips pinched between his teeth.

"Wanna see you," he murmured in reply before Dean had moved his fingers down to touch against his hole once more, Sam giving a little jolt at the cool sensation. "S'okay," he nodded, granting Dean permission to do what he set out to do.

Dean pressed his index finger against the tight clench of his rim before the lube helped it ease inside, meeting less resistance than he anticipated. Sam's eyebrows knit together at the slight pressure, but he willed himself to relax to indulge in the sensation of Dean actually being inside of him, feeling his digit massage his inner walls as it slipped in and out. It didn't take long before he was able to add a second one, the pinch of additional pressure making Sam wince slightly, but he still pressed his hips down against the feeling, the softest little sounds of pleasure leaving his lips under his brother's thrusting fingers. Dean put his mouth to work to help distract from any pain as he kissed along his throat again and along his collar bones, his cock giving a small impatient throb as he scissored his fingers inside of him, urging a deeper stretch so he'd be able to accommodate his length better.

The wet squelches of lube played a beautiful melody to accompany Sam's breathy sounds, and the drag of blunt nails between Dean's shoulder blades only added to the heightened sensitivity of his body before he lifted his head to find Sam's eyes once more.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asked, and Sam subdued a wide smile with a bite down on his bottom lip, giving a nod of his head.

"More than ever," Sam breathed as Dean slipped his fingers free. He took what was left of the lube on his digits and slicked up his own arousal with it, moving to grip the base of it before he aligned himself with Sam's hole, nudging lightly against it.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay? And I'll stop," Dean spoke and waited for the go-ahead from Sam, both of them taking a steadying breath before he had pushed forward, the head catching his brother's rim before the resistance let up and he slipped inside with a groan, Sam's body tensing as he sucked in a breath. "Relax, baby. Breathe and relax for me," Dean coached, waiting until he felt Sam unclench enough to allow movement. "I'll go slow," he murmured, voice breathy. The tightness was incredible, and even the way he clenched and quivered around him sent pulse waves of pleasure through him, but he had to remember that this was Sam's first time. Shit, it was Sam's first time. He was taking his brother's virginity.

Dean pressed their lips together again in a kiss, another distraction, a silent 'I got you' in the form of physical affection. They stayed engaged in a lip lock as Sam's hands moved up and down Dean's back, fingertips pressing against the flesh, nails leaving light half crescent shapes against freckled skin until Sam exhaled against his mouth, giving another nod of his head.

"M'okay. You can move now," Sam breathed and Dean went right to work, giving slow and shallow rocks of his hips, feeling the slow drag of his cock against his insides. He dropped his head some, letting his forehead press against Sam's shoulder as he continued to move, his thrusts going a bit deeper, pressing just a little harder. Sam's arms had curled around him as his thighs pressed to his hips, giving little swivels against each movement that made Dean's head spin.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Dean spoke with a voice like tires on fine gravel as he breathed hotly against his skin, earning a soft whine from Sam between his panted breaths. He could tell his brother was biting his tongue at any discomfort, or maybe he enjoyed the slight sting of pain because it made this real and not some porno fantasy where everything was exaggerated screaming moans of ecstasy, but he checked in, making sure Sam could handle it. "Feels okay, baby? I'm not hurting you?"

"Bigger than fingers," Sam managed to reply with a strained laugh as he held at Dean's nape, pressing his mouth against his ear to give more of those delicious breathy sounds. "Don't stop, I want to feel you all the way," he spoke and Dean groaned, moving to find his mouth again as he angled forward and gave a full thrust, bottoming out. Sam arched, parted lips against Dean's as he gave an outward cry. His heels came to press at the small of his brother's back, holding him in place as he quivered and spasmed around him. "Oh fffuck," he whined, chest rising and falling faster. "I feel so full.. nngh, you're so big," he gasped and Dean throbbed.

"Yeah? You like me that deep, Sammy?" Dean asked, his pupils blown wide with lust as he held Sam's gaze, thankful that he opted to leave the light on because Sam's expression was one he'd commit to memory forever. He gave a grind forward and Sam let out another choked sound, giving a nod of his head as his eyebrows knitted together, those stained glass eyes glassy and dark.

"Do it again," Sam urged and Dean pulled his hips back, giving one fluid roll forward to sink as deep as he could which earned him something akin to a sob as he felt Sam suck his stomach in, the tightness around him increasing.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Dean hissed, nipping at the sharpness of Sam's jawline. "Like big brother fucking you?"

"God, Dean," Sam mewled and Dean shifted his hands up along the other's shoulders before he guided his arms up, curling their fingers together on either side of his brother's head. "Yes, yes, I love it so much.. fuck me, please," he pleaded, squeezing his fingers between his own before Dean took the lead and set a rhythmic pace, each stroke deep and firm, causing Sam's smaller form to bounce slightly. Any pain that Sam may have felt either went ignored or dissipated, because he was matching Dean's pace by countering each thrust with a throwing of his hips against his cock as it plunged in and out of him. The sound of skin on skin grew louder in slick plap plap plaps as they exchanged moans and grunts, entranced by each other's pleasured expressions, locked in an intense gaze that only exemplified their desire for each other.

Dean shifted his hips slightly, angling his body down enough to catch Sam's cock between their abdomens. The added stimulation had Sam writhing and he released Dean's hands to bring them to his shoulders, giving a sob of pleasure.

"Wait," Sam breathed, eyelashes wet with unshed tears from the overstimulation. Dean stilled, panting, eyes darting back and forth over his features to ensure that he hadn't hurt him or gotten carried away. "I don't wanna come that fast.. let me just," he murmured, pushing his brother's shoulders to guide them to roll over so that he was straddling Dean now, careful not to have had him slip out. Dean stared up at Sam, sat atop him like it was his rightful throne, face and chest flushed, hair disheveled. 

Dean moved his hand to run along the taut, slender torso before him as Sam leaned back some, his hands finding an anchor point right above Dean's knees. He could see every newly developed muscle in his abdomen, the stretch of skin from growing quickly framing his physique so perfectly. He gazed in awe, licking his lips and catching his breath before Sam rolled his hips, lifting and dropping down, sucker punching a moan passed Dean's lips.

"Shit, Sammy," he breathed, fingers now gripping at Sam's tanned thighs, squeezing possessively as he countered his movements with arches of his own hips. "Look so fucking good riding me like that," he praised, moving one hand to curl his fingers around his brother's leaking cock before his hand was batted away.

"No, wanna come on your cock alone," Sam drawled, his expression somewhat dazed. Dean gave no argument as his hand gripped his hip instead, watching as Sam set his own pace, up and down at first, the new position giving him a front row view of the show, seeing just how stretched his cock had his baby brother's virgin hole. He groaned as his lashes fluttered, full set of lips remaining slightly agape as he continued to let pleasured sounds drip from them. And then he sat fully down on him and began to rock back and forth, the grinding of his engorged cock dragging along his insides had his balls seize up, impending orgasm quickly approaching.

Dean's eyes were fixated on the way the muscles moved, the way Sam tipped his head back and dragged one of his own hands up his body, touching over his chest and his neck an into his own wavy locks. He had never seen anything so sensual, so breathtakingly arousing, he could have come right then and there, but he wanted Sam to get off first.

"Oh my God," Dean groaned, eyes rolling back for a moment as he pressed his feet into the mattress, aiding in Sam's riding motion before he saw his eyes flutter shut and his mouth fall open wider upon the constant pressure against his prostate. It only took a second or two more before his little brother was coming untouched, making a mess against Dean's stomach and chest before he was right behind him, forcing his hips down a bit harder before his dick throbbed and pulsated, emptying a hot and thick load deep inside of him.

Little thrusts of hips were given as they rode out their orgasms, both of them soon breathless and boneless as Sam leaned forward and collapsed against Dean's chest. His eyelids were heavy and his body was thrumming with post-coital bliss as Dean caressed along his back, blinking his vision back into focus.

"Goddamn," Dean breathed, taking a moment to catch his breath. "You okay, little brother?"

"Fucking amazing," Sam retorted with an airy chuckle, taking a deep inhale to exhale a content sigh. "Told you I was ready."

"Yeah, you called me out on that one." Dean smiled lazily to himself, bring a hand up to smooth through Sam's hair before he kissed the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Their moment of intimate affection was interrupted by Dean's cellphone ringing, making him grunt and curse under his breath. "That's probably dad. Are you okay to move?"

Sam gave a nod of his head and forced himself to sit up, slowly lifting his hips to have Dean slip out of him, come soon to follow.

"I'm gonna clean up," Sam murmured as he got off the bed with shaky legs, Dean giving a nod before he sat up himself and hurriedly moved to fish out his phone from his jacket pocket, flipping it open as he watched Sam head into the bathroom with a sweet little smile his way.

"Hello?" Dean answered as he flashed Sam the same smile, giving a little head tilt to check him out in the process. He was expecting a gruff voice on the other end but it came out much more feminine, his expression dropping when he realized who it was that was calling him.

"Hey Dean, it's Rhonda. Look, I'm sorry to bother you so late, but you're good with cars right?"

"Uh.. yeah, why?" Dean looked away from the bathroom where Sam was busy taking care of the aftermath, afraid that all the color had drained from his face. What perfect fucking timing to call.

"Weirdest thing happened. I think someone was vandalizing cars in the neighborhood or something cause my tires are slashed and they broke my rear window," Rhonda replied, voice distressed. "I already filed a police report, but I don't know if my insurance will cover all of it. Was kinda hoping to call in favor about getting my tires switched out if you have the time."

Dean's eyebrows pulled together as he suddenly looked towards the bathroom again, swearing he caught a glimpse of Sam watching him through the mirror.

"Oh, um, I'm not really sure.. I'd just take it to a mechanic. Y'know, let the professionals handle it." He wasn't about to get roped into meeting up with her after the conversation he had had with Sam earlier. "I'll let you know. Sorry, I gotta go."

"Oh, okay-"

Dean closed his phone and gazed at it in his grip for a moment or two before he noticed Sam standing in the doorframe of the bathroom.

"Ready for bed?" No question about who was calling, which was strange considering Sam could probably piece together that it wasn't their father. Dean let the silence linger for a beat or two before he set the phone down and cleared his throat.

"Yeah." He padded back over to the bed and got settled on his side before Sam joined him, pressed up nice and close. "Hey, Sammy?"

"Hm?"

He couldn't bring himself to ask. Sam wouldn't do something like that, would he?

"..Goodnight" Dean opted for instead, reaching over to turn out the light on the nightstand.

"Night. Love you."

"I love you too."

↳ part 1 || part 2 || link to ao3

[thatonecrookedsmile]

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming. Wishing for the impossible is just human nature. That's how I got started. Just a pencil and a dream. We all want everything without even having to lift a finger. They say you just have to believe. Belief can make you succeed. Belief can make you rich. Belief can make you powerful. Why with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself. Now that... is a beautiful, and positively silly thought." -Joey Drew.

[OPEN YOUR EYES]

-Line-

-----

I mean, at the end of the day, he wasn't so wrong about that last part.

This one also took a little longer to finish. I wonder why /s.

I usually don't like drawings where I have to create a design for a character I've never drawn before. It ends up making me force myself to come up with ideas and sometimes I end up not liking the design anyway. At least this time? That didn't happen (thank goodness).

At first, I didn't know what to do for this prompt. What I originally conceived was a more "joke" drawing with Joey and Sammy, with Sammy literally drawing the line between him and Joey with a big pencil. No big deal, right? But then the phrase "end of the line" came to mind and then… this happened. Funny. A while back I had an idea for a drawing about Joey's afterlife. The idea was much simpler, from what I remember. And compared to what we have, quite different.

"Death" is what came for Joey, and it's what comes for everyone. What he faces is nothing less than what will determine his fate. It is the very Arbiter itself - the eye that sees all - who decides where souls whose lives are over will go. The heavenly gates in the great beyond? The burning flames in the darkest pit? The void of vast nothingness? Somewhere else beyond? Reveal your soul and the Arbiter will decide. I have a certain guess as to where Joey is going, but I'll leave that up in the air.

Maybe I thought just a little bit too much about a character that I probably won't draw in a long time,but i don't mind giving a little lore even to characters that i don't see using much in the future, you know.

(Also, since I used Joey's audio log from BATIM CH3 in the beginning, did you know that Dave Rivas (Joey's current VA) did his own reading of that audio? He's going to be a guest on the Indie Horror Talk Podcast, and the video they posted teasing Dave's appearance there has him reading this same audio log, only with his Joey voice. So now we have Joey's first audio log in the series voice acted by both his first VA (David Eddings) and his current one. I thought that was cool, you know. I found this out a while back and wanted to talk about it for a sec.)

(Alt. without the text):

[vanfleeter]

Conjure: Chapter 4

Characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka, Sam Kiszka, Maggie Warnings: 18+ || Paranormal. Ghosts. Spells. Conjuring. Angst. Anger. Grief. Yelling. Swearing. Drunkenness. Fluff. Friendly banter. A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

“Jake, I really don’t want to be here,” Sam says as he stands outside the gate of the cemetery.

“Sam, you haven’t been here since the funeral,” Jake says as he pushes open the gate.

“For good reason..” Sam grumbles.

Jake sighs and rolls his eyes. “Stop it..” He grabs Sam by the elbow and pulls him past the gate. “Now come on, I bet he’s waiting for you.”

Sam rolls his eyes and continues to follow Jake through the cemetery. “You and your voodoo shit is really getting annoying.”

Jake scoffs and turns backwards to face Sam as he continues to walk. “It’s not voodoo..”

“Oh?” Sam digs into the bag he was assigned to carry and produces the same pumpkin and sage candle. “Then why do you have this?”

“It’s just a candle.”

“That’s not what Maggie said,” Sam says as he twists the candle in his hand. “She said you had been using it to conjure up Josh’s spirit.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jake snatches the candle out of Sam’s hand and sets it on top of Josh’s tombstone. “It smells good.”

‘You need to get your nose worked on again, brother,’ Josh says as he walks up beside Sam. ‘Candle smells like shit.’

Sam shakes his head and sits down on the ground. “So how exactly is this supposed to “help” me?” He says as Jake lights the candle and goes to sit on the ground as well.

“It allows you to begin the healing process.”

“You’re one to talk.” Sam grumbles.

Jake cocks his head to the side and gives Sam a disapproving look. “Feeling completely healed doesn’t happen overnight, Samuel. It takes time.”

“It’s been four years, Jake,” Sam sighs. “If it hasn’t already happened, I fear it will never happen.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried.”

Josh lowers himself to the ground and sits cross legged in front of Sam. ‘Come on Sam.. Please talk to me.. Tell me how you feel, please. I know you feel guilty and you shouldn’t.. I just wish you could hear me tell you that.’

Sam shakes his head and he lowers his chin. “I don’t know, Jake.. I haven’t been back here in four years for a reason.. I can’t face it.”

“You already are,” Jake says. “Just because you can’t see him or hear him, doesn’t mean he can’t.”

Sam leans his elbows on his crossed legs and rests his chin in his hand. He stayed quiet for a while, drawing circles into the grass in front of him. Jake let him take his time, so he turned to face the sunset. It wasn’t long before Sam was standing to his feet and taking the bottle of tequila out of the bag. But instead of twisting the cap off and pouring a shot, he slings the bottle at the tombstone. Jake jumps at the sound of the glass bottle shattering against the stone.

“Fuck you!” Sam shouts. “How could you have been so stupid?! Why did you have to be such a show off?! For once in your life you could have just not entertained people! Just once! You would still be here if you weren’t clowning around!”

‘There you go, Sammy.’ Josh says as he watches Sam take out his anger. ‘Let me hear it.’

Jake had fully turned his body around on the ground so he was facing Sam and all of his anger on display. “So fucking stupid, Josh, and I still so fucking angry with you! You ruined everything! My life, the band! The only good thing that I had managed to create is a baby! A baby that won’t grow up with you around! It feels so wrong bringing another life into this world after losing one–a vital one..” Tears fell down Sam’s cheeks and he fell to his knees in front of the stone. “I should hate you.. I really should.. But I can’t..”

Jake moves closer to Sam and wraps his arms around him. Sam turns his body into Jake’s, his cries taking over his body.

“I miss him, Jake..” Sam cries over his shoulder.

“I know you do,” Jake says as holds him tighter. “Believe me, I do.”

Hearing a knock at her door, Maggie gets up from the couch and goes over to answer it. Pulling open the door she’s surprised when she sees Jake standing out in the hallway. His head is lowered, his hair covering his face. He sniffles and looks up at her, his eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say a word, instead she pulls him inside her apartment.

Waking up the next morning, his head pounding, and his body shivering, Jake peels his eyes open and finds himself alone in the bed with the covers strewn all over exposing his half naked self to the chilled air. Grabbing the covers, he drags them back over his body but pauses when he hears humming coming from Maggie’s kitchen. It was sweet and soothing and he wanted to hear more of it.

So he climbs out of bed and throws his shirt back on before quietly making his way down the hallway and to the kitchen. He can smell the scent of lavender making him feel more at ease. Peering around the wall of the kitchen, he finds Maggie seated at the island counter with a book open in front of her. She smiles and looks up at him.

“Good morning,” She says. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” He says as he walks over to stand behind her. “Thank you for letting me cry in your bed.”

Maggie giggles and turns her head to look over her shoulder. “My bed is your bed.”

He chuckles and kisses her cheek. “Then why don’t you come back to it?” He says as he begins to sway their bodies back and forth.

“I would love to, but I have been doing some research.” She says. “I think I may have found something that could help us, but it’s going to take a lot of practice.”

“A lot?” Jake questions. “How much is a lot?”

“It involves a lot of breathing exercises and getting our bodies in tune with the spirit world.”

“So in other words… Yoga.”

“Yeah pretty much,” She says as she closes the book.

“Looks like a kid’s spellbook.”

Maggie giggles and takes a drink of her coffee. “I know nothing about what the book contains or how it may or may not work.”

“Where’d you even find it?”

“Some lady in Oregon who claims to be a witch.”

“Doesn’t sound sketchy in the slightest.” Jake chuckles.

“It’s worth a shot,” Maggie says. “Probably will do something more than that dinky pumpkin and sage candle.”

“Excuse you.. My candle is–” Maggie raises her eyebrows. “My candle is horrible..” Jake sighs. “I guess we can try this.”

“Well we have at least twelve months to perfect this,” Maggie says before sliding off the bar stool. “Sam’s welcome to join too.”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think so..”

“Sam is just as distraught as you are, if not more.. Maybe this could be his chance to have the closure he needs to make peace with the past.”

“He’ll think we’re insane.”

Maggie wraps her arms around his body. “Just casually mention it to gauge his opinion.”

“And how exactly do I tell him casually? ‘Hey Maggie and I have a plan to bring Josh back from the dead for a day, want to join?’.”

“Well not like that,” She laughs.

“Then how does one bring that up?”

–A Few Weeks Later–

Sam twirls his fork in the spaghetti on his plate as he stares at Jake. “So let me get this straight.. You want to conjure up Josh’s spirit for twenty four hours?”

“I know it sounds crazy–”

“Crazy?” Sam scoffs.

“--But it would give us closure..”

“This is absolutely deranged..” Sam tosses his fork down on the plate and stands up from his chair. “You want me to participate in some seance to bring our dead brother back from the dead just to have some closure? Jake, you have absolutely lost your mind.”

“Sam, listen–”

“No! You’re delusional thinking something like this can happen! He’s dead, Jake!”

“I know he is..” Jake mumbles as he slouches in his chair.

“Then leave it be,” Sam says. “Let him fucking be at peace wherever his goddamn spirit is..”

“What if he isn’t at peace, Sam? What if he’s struggling like we are? What if he needs that closure too?”

“Jake.. Josh is dead.” He grabs his coat off the back of his chair and slips it on. “But if you and Maggie want to go through with this freaky voodoo shit, then go for it.. I want no part in it.”

Jake huffs and drops his head as Sam storms out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. Jake leans forward onto the table and rests his chin in his hands. Josh appears beside him and sighs. ‘That went well..’ He mutters. ‘Give him time, he’ll come around.’

“Maybe I am deranged..” Jake says to himself as he stands up from his chair and gathers the plates and carries them to the sink. He scoffs and turns on the faucet before running the garbage disposal. After letting it run for a few seconds, he shuts off the disposal and rinses off the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. “But if I’m deranged then I guess I could ask you to pour me a shot?”

Josh chuckles and gets up from the table. ‘Just because I figured out how to make coffee doesn’t mean you can abuse my abilities for your own drunken gain.’

Jake smiles before he starts laughing. “Come on Joshy, help your little brother out.”

‘So not happening, Jakey.’

Jake sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll get it myself..”

‘I think you’ve had enough to drink already.’

He follows Jake into the living room where he starts to pour himself a shot of whiskey. “Maybe I have lost my mind.. Grief can make you do funny things..”

‘Like getting blackout drunk like you’ve been doing since I died?’

“Alcohol eases the pain, Joshy..” Jake throws back the shot before pouring more. “And silly me for wanting to involve Sam, huh?”

‘Jake, stop..’

Jake downs the next shot before setting the empty glass down and grabbing the bottle instead. He goes over to the couch and flops down on it. “Sorry, Sam, I just wanted to give you some closure too.” He scoffs and lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long drag of it. “You probably think I’m crazy too.”

‘You’re still grieving, Jake.’

“Fuck it.. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight..”

Josh watches as Jake begins to light a few candles and lays them out in a circle on the hardwood floor. Closing his eyes, he begins to clear his mind of everything and focuses on his breathing. He needs to find peace and tranquility and Josh.

‘This could be interesting.’ Josh says as he relaxes back on the couch and crosses his legs over one another on the coffee table.

“Cinis in cinerem pulvis ad pulvis,” Jake begins to chant. “Eadem pellis participes sumus. Nos eiusdem sanguinis participes.”

‘O-o-o, fancy. Speaking all in Latin.’ Josh chuckles. ‘No idea what you’re saying.’

“Cinis in cinerem pulvis ad pulvis.. Eadem pellis participes sumus. Nos eiusdem sanguinis participes.”

Jake goes on for another hour, repeating the incantation over and over again as he focuses on his breathing.

‘Well, I’m getting bored, I’m going to lay out on your bed.’ Josh stands up from the couch and leaves the living room and Jake to his own devices.

Hours have passed and Jake is finally growing exhausted. The candles were near spent, wax drying on the floor. Blowing out the candles, Jake picks them up and sets them back on the mantelpiece before going to grab a butter knife to gently scrape the melted wax off of the hardwood floors. Once everything is cleaned up, he makes sure the house is locked up before going upstairs.

‘You finally finished.’ Josh sighs as he sits up on the bed. ‘And you look so drained.. The fuck kind of incantation were you doing?’

Jake huffs and falls down onto the bed. “Maggie is right. This is definitely going to take a lot of practice.” He rolls over onto his side, facing Josh. His eyes start to droop closed, sleep fighting to take over his body. “Goodnight, Josh..”

Josh scoffs and smiles. "Boy do you need sleep," he says. ‘Goodnight, Jake.’

The sun is shining brightly into the bedroom and covering Jake’s face. Groaning and rolling over onto his side, he grabs his phone and taps the screen to check the time. 2pm. He really slept most of the day away. The screen is littered with texts from Sam and Maggie, accompanied by a few missed calls from Maggie.

“You really slept in late today..”

Dropping his phone on the nightstand, Jake slowly turns over and looks beside him. Laying in the bed beside him is Josh.

Josh?

Josh?!

“Oh my god, you heard me..” Josh says.

“AAAHHH!!” Jake screams at the top of his lungs as he scrambles off the bed and staggers backwards away from Josh. “You.. You..” Reaching for the nearest object, he swipes a bottle of cologne off his dresser and throws it at Josh.

“Hey! Woah!” Josh shouts as he dodges the flying object. “Jake, calm down.” Without another word, Jake takes off out of the bedroom. “Wait! Jake! Stop!”

“No! Stay the fuck away from me!”

“Jake!” Josh chases after him into the kitchen. Jake is scrambling around the kitchen, searching for something. “Jake, please calm down.” Jake grabs a frying pan off the hook and swings it at Josh. “Jacob! Put the pan down..”

“No..” Jake says as he holds it out in front of him. “Not until I figure out if I’m dreaming any of this.”

“Hate to break it to you, brother, but you are wide awake.” Josh says.

They slowly circle the island, Josh with his hands held in the air, and Jake still holding onto the frying pan.

“I have to be hungover..”

“Definitely not that either,” Josh says. “You barely drank enough to get yourself blacked out again.”

“You’ve been watching me?!”

“Someone’s gotta keep their eye on you.” Josh says. “Although I always leave when you and Maggie…you know.”

“Oh my god!” Jake grimaces. “How long have you been watching me?!”

“Every time you come to the cemetery.. But then I figured out how to leave the cemetery so I’ve been here ever since. You’re welcome for the coffee by the way.”

“That was you…” Jake says as he lowers the pan.

“Morning after coffee is great.” Josh smirks.

Jake drops the frying pan down on the island counter. Josh sheepishly smiles and snatches the pan away. “Just so I don’t get threatened with it again..” He awkwardly laughs.

Jake digs his hands into his hair. “How.. How did this even happen?”

“It could be that spell you were chanting over and over last night.” Josh says. “Where did you even find that anyways?”

“I don’t know…” Jake sighs. “Maggie said she found it in some spellbook that she got from some old lady in Oregon.”

“And you thought to try it?”

“I didn’t think it was gonna work!” Jake exclaims, dropping his hands to his sides. He begins to pace back and forth and tries to make sense of the fact that his twin is currently standing in front of him. The doorbell rings making Jake freeze and his stomach plummets. Suddenly he’s shoving Josh out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. “Go, go.”

“You’re hiding me?”

“Just go!”

Once Josh is upstairs, Jake goes to answer the door. Swinging the door open he smiles brightly only to come face to face with Sam.

“Oh no..”

“Gee, good to see you too.” Sam chuckles as he steps into the house. “I’m sorry to just show up like this but I did a lot of thinking.. You may sound insane, yes.. But if I’m being honest, having another chance to see Josh again, even just for a limited time, I don’t want to miss out on that.”

“Oh uh, well..” Jake scratches the back of the head. “About that..”

“Don’t tell me you changed your mind..” Sam says. “I will gladly take the damn spellbook from you and do it myself.”

“Y-You.. Um.. You don’t have to do that..”

Sam’s eyebrows crease and he folds his arms over his chest. “And why not?”

Jake takes in a deep breath and goes over to the stairs. “You can come down now!” He calls up to Josh.

Sam looks up the staircase to see Josh stepping into view. “Josh?”

“Hey baby brother,” Josh smiles.

Sam turns his attention back to Jake. “Did you..”

“Yeah..” Jake breathes.

“Last night?”

Jake nods his head. “I was a little upset after you left.. So I thought I would try to prove to you that I wasn’t crazy and well…” He throws his hand up in Josh’s direction.

“Does Maggie know?”

Jake shakes his head. “I just woke up a little bit ago.”

“It’s 2:30..”

“Apparently doing that spell wipes you out.”

Josh walks down the stairs, cautiously as to not send Sam running away and screaming, much like his frightened brother. “You don’t by chance have any weapons on you?”

“No?” Sam says confused. “Why?”

“No reason,” Josh shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay?” Sam slowly steps up to Josh and presses his index finger into Josh's cheek. “You are real…” Suddenly he throws his arms around him and hugs him tightly. “I’m so sorry.. I was angry and–”

“Sam,” Josh chuckles as he hugs him. “Never apologize. I wanted you to say all of that. I needed you too.”

They hold onto each other a little while longer before pulling apart.

“Congratulations on the baby,” Josh says. “I’m very happy for you.”

“I wish you’d be able to see them when they come.”

Josh smiles and rests his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Did you know children can supposedly see ghosts? I’m going to test that theory.”

“Oh boy..” Sam sighs. “Just don't freak them out.”

“I would never.” Josh says. “So!” He claps his hands. “What do we do now?”

“I need a drink..” Jake sighs before turning around and heading for the living room.

“Are you serious?” Josh says as he follows after him. “You conjure me from the great beyond and you want to drink?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.” He pours out a shot of whiskey and throws it back before pouring himself another one.

“Hello! You brought me back from the dead! I think I need to be wrapping my head around this.” Josh says as he takes the bottle from Jake’s hand. “Feels so good to finally be able to take something out of your hands. Seriously though, what do we do now?”

The front door opens and soon Maggie is joining the trio in the living room. “Oh hey Sam!” She greets him with a smile. “Lovely seeing you here.” She drops her bag on the couch. “Hey Josh,” She says as she waves at him and sits on the couch.

Sam and Josh both look at each other before Maggie’s jumping off the couch and turning to face Josh.

“Josh?!”

“Hi-i-i,” He awkwardly laughs. “Nice to finally meet you, Maggie.”

“You’re here? You’re real? How the hell are you…here…” Her voice trails and she turns her attention to Jake. “Care to explain how your brother is standing in the living room right now?”

“Depends,” Jake says. “How mad are you?”

“I’m not even sure what emotion I have right now.. Am I dreaming?” She says as she turns to look at Sam. He simply shakes his head in response.

“I got drunk last night after Sam left and I wanted to prove to him that this wasn’t just some silly voodoo shit.” Jake says.

“How did you do it?” Maggie asks.

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “I lit some candles and repeated the incantation until I grew tired.”

“And then proceeded to sleep all day.” Josh adds. “Such a boring day. Though it’s nothing new, I spent the last four years bored out of my mind in a cemetery.”

“Sleeping all day would explain why you haven’t been answering my calls.” Maggie says as she raises her brows at Jake.

“So now what? He asks for the third time..” Josh says.

“Well you can’t leave the house,” Sam says. “Last thing we need is freaking people out.”

“Let’s make some music!” Josh exclaims. “One last song together and you can say it was in the lost files.”

“But we’d need Danny.” Jake says. “And he knows nothing about this.”

“Plus he’s golfing in Florida,” Sam says. Josh turns to Sam and flashes a wide grin. Sam sighs and fishes his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll go call him.”

tag list is in my master list if you would like to add yourself! 🤍

@losfacedevil @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @hollyco @earthgrlsreasy @dancingcarbon @josh-iamyour-mama @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2 @highway-tuna @musicislove3389 @gretavangroupie @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @thetroublegetssoloud71 @squirreledelman

[cowgurrrl]

Hey June; could I ask for mother’s day in the Miller household? With Joel, Sarah, Ellie, and Sammy doing something nice to surprise you? Just all the kids and Joel being such a wife guy and showering his wife with love, I need it 🤍

Saph!! Thank you for the request 🩷Sorry this took literally forever but here it is!!

Hey Me, Hey Mama

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: Mother’s Day [1.7k]

Warnings: fluff, brief mention of breastfeeding, talks of having another baby, Sam and Daisy being Hell Raisers

You hear the whispering outside your door before you can open your eyes. It sounds a lot like Joel and the girls having a hushed argument while Sam jiggles the door knob underneath their noses, his favorite thing to do since he's started walking. You smile and roll so your back is to the door and pretend to be asleep as quiet footsteps enter the room. Joel's side of the bed dips with his weight, and a gentle hand smoothes the hair out of your face a moment later. 

"Hey," he says gently, and you hum. "There's a surprise for you." You blink your eyes open to find Sam in Ellie's arms at the edge of your bed while Sarah carefully slides a tray full of breakfast on your bedside table. Eggs, bacon, a little bit of toast, and a huge Starbucks coffee with little cards tucked under the plate fill the tray, and you smile. 

"Happy Mother's Day." The girls say in unison as Sam babbles along, trying his best to keep up with his sisters. You turn to look at Joel and see a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

"Happy Mother's Day." He echoes. You sit up, giving Sam enough reason to wiggle away from Ellie and into your bed. 

"Oh, thank you, guys," you say as Sam collapses into your chest with all his toddler weight, making himself laugh. "D'you guys make this all by yourselves?" 

"Dad helped," Sarah answers, and Ellie slaps her arm. "I mean, yes."

"One job," Joel mumbles under his breath next to you, and you laugh.

"Well, thank you to everyone who made this. It looks amazing." You say as you hold Sam with one hand and grab the food tray with the other. Sammy snuggles into your side, occasionally reaching for a piece of egg which you give him until he decides he's actually hungry and all but rips your shirt trying to nurse. Thankfully, neither the girls nor Joel gives you a second glance. After almost a full year of breastfeeding, they're used to it and really don't care when or how you feed Sam so long as he's not screaming. They fall right back into their conversation as they lay in between you and Joel in bed. 

For being as old as they are, the girls never miss an opportunity to crawl into bed with you and Joel like they're little kids again. You love it, especially since you didn't get to make those memories when the girls were little and press kisses to their foreheads whenever you feel like it. Joel observes the organized chaos quietly, snapping candid photos of you four every once in a while and relishing in the slow morning with his family. 

You finish your breakfast and open the cards from the girls and even one that Sam scribbled in. Ellie gives you a beautiful drawing of one of the pictures she took in the hospital after Sam was born, and Sarah writes a heartfelt message in your card that makes you cry. Sam, ever the cuddly boy, rests his head under your chin once he's done eating and sighs contentedly, making you feel like your heart could burst. Joel catches it and smiles at you over the kid's heads. 

At some point, Daisy comes crashing in and gets Sam all riled up and wanting to play. Ellie throws Sam over her shoulder and leaves the room with Daisy trailing closely behind, ready to run around the backyard like her life depends on it, and Sarah grabs the now empty tray to take it back downstairs. "We'll be down in just a second, okay?" Joel calls after them. 

"No funny business with our mom!" Ellie yells, making you choke on your laughter, and Joel's jaw drops.

"She's my wife!"

"Yeah, but she's my mom!"

"She's got a point," you chime in, and Joel rolls his eyes.

"Would y'all just go play or somethin'?" Joel says, and you can hear their laughter even after they close the door behind them. He huffs as he turns toward you, but you're still laughing at the whole encounter. He melts at the sight of the smile on your face and leans forward to kiss you. "Hi," he says against your lips.

"Hi," you say back, resting a hand on his chest and cuddling into his warmth. "Thank you for my breakfast."

"'M glad it wasn't a complete disaster."

"The coffee definitely helped." 

"Yeah, I figured it would," he breathes. "It's a miracle Ellie didn't burn down the house."

"She's learning." You say, and he nods, but the scarred look on his face tells you everything you need to know. You glance over his shoulder to get a better look at the flowers he brought you and smile when you recognize the petals. It's a bouquet of the kids' birth flowers. Granted, their birth flowers are pretty easy to remember considering how similar they all are. Sarah was born in July, making hers a waterlily, and Ellie and Sam were both born in May, making theirs a lily. There are lots of little filler flowers like Baby's Breath and some pretty ferns, but the lilies really stand out. Thank God you don't have cats. Joel catches you looking at them and chuckles.

"The florist thought I was fuckin' with her when I asked for that many lilies. Had to explain my whole idea to her." He says, and you laugh.  

"They're beautiful," you say. "But you really didn't have to do anything."

"I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated," he says like you just said the most incredulous thing to him. "Plus, this is your first Mother's Day with Sammy. I wanted to make it special." You're about to argue that, technically, Sammy was there last Mother's Day, you were just pregnant, but you stop at the love-stricken look on his face. Who are you to argue when he's staring at you like that? You kiss him again.

"Thank you." You mumble, and he smiles.

"You haven't even gotten your big present yet." 

"Joel-"

"Let me spoil you, please. You deserve it, and not just because you pushed Sam's big ass head out but because of how good of a mom you are to the girls." He cuts you off, and you sigh. He's not wrong, but still, motherhood doesn't feel like something to be spoiled over. It feels like something you just do, and hope everyone gets through life with the least amount of trauma. Even if you said this to Joel, he would argue and probably go on a long tangent about how important you are to the kids, and you'd probably cry. Stupid Libra, you think. Always making me emotional.

Before either of you can say anything else, he pulls a little box from his pocket and hands it to you. It's not dissimilar to the box your engagement ring hid in for months, and for a second, you think about joking that you're already married. But when you open it, a stunning cluster of gems gleams back at you. A ruby and two emeralds shining against a gold band to represent your three kids in order of their births. "I thought it'd be nice to have a reminder of them when you go back to work," Joel says, and you smile. How is he so fucking thoughtful? Carefully, you take the ring out of the box to look at it a little closer. The kid's initials are engraved inside the band as a little secret for you, but something near the gemstones catches your eye. 

"What's this?" You ask, pointing to the empty spot near Sam's birthstone.

"Oh, I asked the guy to leave a space, just in case." 

"In case what?" You know the answer. You just want to hear him say it. He blushes and fiddles with his wedding ring.

"In case we decide to have another baby." He says, and you smile. Sam will be one next week, flying through milestones like it's nothing. Sarah is in grad school, doing amazing things, and Ellie is getting ready to finish up her last few semesters of undergrad. Everyone's growing up too fast, and you've both been caught by the other looking at old pictures of the kids. Still, you haven't formally discussed the idea of having another baby until right now. You look down and turn the ring so the morning sun can hit the stones at different points before meeting Joel's eyes again.

"Another baby, huh?" You ask.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world if there was another Miller walkin' around?" 

"We may never sleep again," you say. "But no, I don't think it'd be a bad thing. I think it'd be pretty cool."

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod, giddy smiles overtaking you two. You probably look crazy, but you can't care about it when your mind is running fast with images of Sam holding a baby, being a big brother, and teaching them things. Joel hovers over you, his chest pressing against yours, and you slide your hand into his hair. "You're serious?" He whispers.

"Yeah. Three was never my favorite number anyways." You shrug like you're talking about apples instead of humans, and he laughs. 

"Well, alright," he says. "Let's have another baby." Hearing the words out loud makes you giggle, but the sound is cut short when he kisses you. It's tender and sweet until it's not, his teeth grazing your bottom lip and swiping the pain away with his tongue. Your hand finds its way up Joel's shirt, your fingertips tracing the hard lines of muscle formed over years of playing sold-out shows. He's barely ducked his head to kiss down your neck and chest when a door slams from downstairs, and you hear the girls shouting about something.

"Dad! Sam took off his diaper, and Daisy won't drop it!" Ellie yells, and Joel groans into your skin.

"Just a minute!" 

"Now!" Ellie and Sarah scream at the same time. The sound of the faucet running, Sam screeching with laughter, and the girls yelling at Daisy fill the previously peaceful house, and Joel gives you a look. 

"It's all you, Dad." You say, and he sighs.

"Why me?"

"Because it's Mother's Day."

"That," he starts but can't come up with an argument. "Is true," he kisses you again before standing up and walking to the door. With a hand on the knob, he turns back around and points at you. "Don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it, cowboy."

[funky-gobbo-art]

Donolinc/Cringe!AU pt. 3

Trans!John headcanon post HERE

Cringe!AU pt. 1 HERE

Cringe!AU pt. 2 HERE

Once again I'll give the same CW as the last post: if you don't wanna see any references to trans male pregnancy please blacklist the terms "mpreg" and "tmpreg", similar content to whats in Mafia 3 normally like violence, bigotry of the 1960's, war, etc.

General disclaimer: I'm still not good at drawing babies/young children and I'm not much of a writer personally so sorry if things are clunky.

John got home sometime around mid-November, laying low and skipping around the states altering his appearance a bit until he felt the heat died down enough he could return to Louisiana with no issues. Once he got home he was greeted by a very intense Lincoln alone at Sammy's while Dani was at Nicki's being watched. Lincoln was feeling a lot of stuff at once, like anger, but also just holding back emotions a bit, hiding at first that he was happy to see John coming through the door.

Obviously things got pretty intense emotionally a bit after John got into the house, but things cooled down (or heated up lol) and Lincoln immediately started teasing him for his more "messy" appearance, said he looked like a hippie.

Adjusting back home was pretty comforting for a bit, John's happy he can just stay inside, catch up with Dani and be lazy. Already he was naturally anti-social so staying in wasn't that much of an issue, just watching T.V and most he does is if Lincoln needs his help on something work related.

Wasn't too long until John started feeling sick again, waking up early to run to the bathroom, or accidentally throwing up at the worst times. He immediately had a "oh this better not be what I think it is again" and after a visit to Lincoln's personal doctor, yep, it was exactly what he thought it was.

Despite appearing angry, he was more annoyed and just wanted to give Lincoln a hard time. They were both fine with this because John's going to be more a homebody now and Lincoln can support them all. Dani, despite being 2, seemed pretty happy with the news, she kept saying "baby!" after being told.

John definitely wants to get serious about finally getting a hysterectomy after this kid though. Still kicking himself for not getting one earlier but oh well. Like the last pregnancy he was moody and wasn't allowed to smoke or drink, fell back into annoying Lincoln by popping gum around him constantly.

Rhys Clay was born August 10th 1972, Lincoln Clay and John Donovan his parents and Danielle Clay his older sister. Not named after anyone again but both parents were looking over names and just got attached to that one. Once again the baby was delivered at home with the same doctor as last time, only difference is that Dani could meet her new little brother as soon as they were able to.

Lincoln was very happy being a father of 2 now, though it was dawning on him that he needs an actual house for them now, but he has some time before both kids are big enough to get their own rooms. John feels a little weird knowing he's technically had 3 kids already but gets serious about getting a hysterectomy a bit after going back to normal after Rhys is born. Both John and Lincoln have to settle with a story now to tell people especially if John is seen walking around with both kids. Lincoln finally comes out about it all to the other 2 underbosses (since Nicki already knows), he's a father of 2 and the other parent is a trans man who happens to be the gangs advisor that's been working from the shadows ever since the beginning.

Vito and Cassandra don't take too kindly knowing that their bosses advisor is a now ex-C.I.A agent, and it does break out into a big argument between the underbosses, Lincoln and Donovan. Lincoln being so used to this now, he was able to get the argument under control by telling John to keep his mouth shut and telling the other 2 if he wasn't trustworthy, then why on earth would he willingly raise 2 children with him? It seems to work.

Some time passes: Dani starts school, shows a bit of an artistic streak while also showing signs of being very stubborn when she feels like it. Rhys shows signs of being autistic and is nonverbal until he's nearly 4 years old. The Clay Crime Family starts doing some good for the local area, renovating and building places, but also expanding their operations. Lincoln is basically untouchable now, which means his family is safe and sound as long as their around him.

John still goes around the city with both kids and visiting Robert, but can't seem to stop Robert from making snarky comments about both him and his kids, meanwhile Father James notices a lot of similarities between Rhys and Lincoln from back when he first came into the orphanage. Both very quiet boys but different circumstances.

Donovan takes a good break from his "side project", he's letting the heat die down since the whole senate hearing incident and he wants those folks he sent that message out for to get a false sense of security and think nothing more is going to happen, but John is planning on striking when they least expect it. He's not going to act for awhile though, doesn't wanna miss any birthdays and still be present during the kid's childhoods, also Rhys still needs a lot of attention.

Dani and Rhys are very close, and Dani always tries to get him involved with games she plays, Rhys is pretty quiet still and shy around new people but does start talking more to his family and other adults that come around, mostly Father James or Nicki Burke.

Rhys is the last kid and John tells Lincoln if he wants more, he can just figure that all out himself.

Both kids are still in development, character wise. I have some thoughts about Dani in her teen years, like going on with her friends a lot, as for Rhys, I'm still wondering what personality he has, though I see him getting into puzzles a lot. I'm open to any thoughts honestly, writing kids isn't really a strength for me and these are my first fan kid oc's for a piece of media I like.

But yeah, that's my cringe au! Been cooking it for awhile and finally got the guts to release it to the wild, like I said previously.

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 07

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ This chapter contains themes of and references to deep, personal losses, which may be distressing to some readers. Please take care while reading.

Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

To say that Morgan was a difficult and stubborn patient was an understatement. With the extent of the injuries she sustained when a Harlem apartment building collapsed on her, she was ordered to be on strict bed rest for a few weeks at least. Keeping her down was easier said than done, however.

Bed rest literally means bed rest, Ms. Daly. Lounging in your chair in the conference room doesn’t count.

Dr. Foster had personally ordered her back to bed herself too many times already. If it wasn’t for her Hippocratic oath, Morgan was certain the woman would have strangled her by now. As punishment, she was stuck in bed for one more week before she could get back to work on less taxing duties.

At the very least, she had her script for Dawn of the Seven , to rehearse.

“And you’re sure they won’t throw a fit over you breaking your NDA?” her sister asked, her wide grin practically audible over the phone. 

“Sammy, you’re my big sister.” Morgan said with a soft snort. “We’re basically extensions of each other. Besides, I know how you are about spoilers. You’d sooner invoke the curse of MacBeth than give away the story.”

“Shh! Don’t say that name!” Sammy hissed. “You’ll jinx the movie!”

“Relax, the curse only works for stage productions.” Morgan laughed softly, wincing slightly as a sharp pain shot through her ribs.

“Hey, all the world's a stage.”

“Smartass.”

Morgan wished she could have seen the wry grin her sister was likely wearing. One day she would have to convince her to upgrade her phone to something that actually had video call capabilities. The flip phone Sammy insisted on using was sure to break eventually.

Still, even without seeing her, Morgan could sense the shift in tone before Sammy could say what she was thinking.

”Sorry to change gears here, but have you found out anything else about the Compound V situation?” Sammy asked, her voice low.

Drawing in as deep a breath as she could manage, Morgan pressed her lips into a thin line.

”I don’t have any solid leads yet.” She murmured back.

Ever since the origins of supes came to light, Morgan’s family had been scratching their heads. Neither of her parents had struck any sort of deal with Vought to juice her with their super drug. If they had, Morgan would have known about it a long, long time ago.

Another worrisome piece to the puzzle was Dr. Foster’s silent panic with a recent panel of bloodwork she had done. Morgan’s already fragile trust with Vought and its other employees had been dwindling. After what happened with Stormfront in Harlem, Morgan felt less and less inclined to keep from reading minds without permission.

This can’t be right.

Foster’s voice still echoed in her mind even weeks after the fact. She had gleaned a few things from a quick mental scan, but it was still only a fraction of the bigger picture.

Edgar had ordered a test to be run on Morgan, all without her knowledge or consent. Dr. Foster was to see if she had any markers in her system that would indicate she had ever been touched with Compound V. Much to her surprise, and consequently Morgan’s, the tests came back with negative results.

Not minimal, not inconclusive– negative .

“What do you think that means?” 

Sammy’s question echoed in her ear just as a soft knock interrupted the moment. Morgan’s gaze flicked toward the door. Her telepathy warned her before she even saw him, and her chest tightened.

“Hey, I’ll call you back,” Morgan quickly said, her voice quieter now. 

“Everything okay?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah, just... something came up,” Morgan replied, eyes still on the door as she disconnected the call and set her phone aside.

The door opened with the unmistakable quiet confidence that only one person possessed. Homelander stepped into the room, the air seeming to shift with him. His presence was magnetic, almost suffocating in the small space. He was dressed in his usual immaculate suit, the red and white cape trailing behind him with an air of regality.

“Psyren,” he greeted, his tone somewhere between a question and an observation.

“Homelander.” She didn’t bother to hide the weariness in her voice. She shifted slightly under the covers, painfully aware of how feeble she must look to someone like him—someone who never seemed to show physical weakness.

He stood at the foot of her bed, his steely blue eyes scanning her as if taking inventory of whatever scratches, cuts and bruises still remained. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching out uncomfortably.

“Am I interrupting something?” he finally asked, his tone deceptively casual, but there was always that edge to it—like he was testing her.

“Just a call with my sister,” Morgan said. “Nothing important.”

They both knew the other knew better than that though. She was already in his head, and he had been listening in with his acute hearing. The most worrisome part about that though, was he seemed to already know what Sammy was referring to. Morgan couldn’t fathom why Edgar would have disclosed the results of her secret Compound V panel to Homelander, but he had. 

Homelander nodded, though his gaze lingered on her phone for a beat longer before returning to her. “How are you feeling?” The question sounded almost... polite. Uncharacteristically so.

“Like I got buried under a building,” she said dryly, unable to help herself. “But I’m fine. You really don’t need to worry about me.”

Homelander’s lips twitched in a semblance of a smile. “Oh, but I do. I'm the leader of The Seven, and you’re a valued member of the team. I’m fully invested in your recovery.”

“I’m just saying you don’t need to keep checking up on me like this,” Morgan replied, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “I’ll be back on my feet soon.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said, that small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth a little more. He took another step toward her bed, close enough now that she could feel the subtle shift in the air between them. Something about the way he was staring at her, trying to discern what he could about her from a simple look, made her feel like a bug under a microscope.

Conversely, she hadn’t ever taken her eyes off of his, and now his thoughts were a storm of unanswered questions. He had no way of knowing when she was in his head, and that unnerved him. Even more than that, the origins of her abilities had come into question, and he wasn’t even remotely sure of how to deal with that. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “I can hear those gears in your head turning.”

There was a brief flash of surprise that passed over his face before his expression quickly darkened. He was already worried she was in his head, but now he knew she was teasing him about it.

“Oh, I don’t know.” he huffed, his lips pulling into a tight smile. “Why don’t you tell me? Go ahead, tell me what you find.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving his. “You sure you want me to do that?”

It was a challenge, and they both knew it. His smile faltered, just for a second, before it returned, this time sharper—dangerous.

“Go ahead,” he said, leaning in just enough to make the air between them feel heavy. “Take a peek. Maybe you’ll learn something useful.”

She could hear the anger creeping into his voice, the way it thinned, despite the control he was desperately clinging to. It was always like this with him. A balancing act. One wrong move and the mask would slip. One wrong word and she’d see just how close to the edge he was.

But Morgan wasn’t afraid of him. 

“I don’t need to read your mind to know you’re feeling threatened,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, her tone turning more serious. 

His jaw tightened, the facade of calm crumbling just a little. “Threatened? By you?” He laughed, forcing a smile. “You’re cute, you know that? Do you really think that? Or is that the pain-killers talking? I’m sure Doc Foster has you all hooked up with the best stuff.”

“Oh, I’ve been off the pain-killers for a while now.” Morgan said, cracking a wry grin. “Gotta keep this mind sharp. I’ve already let you see me impaired a few too many times.”

Homelander’s smile faltered, but only for a second. He adjusted his posture, arms crossing over his chest, the tension still simmering behind his eyes. “Then I guess you’re just naturally delusional.”

"Maybe I am delusional," she said with a shrug, but her voice lacked its usual bite. "Or maybe—"

Her phone buzzed in her lap, interrupting her mid-sentence. Morgan glanced down, seeing Sammy's name flash across the screen. She sighed, sending the call to voicemail and focusing back on Homelander, though something in her expression had shifted.

“Or maybe you're just not used to anyone calling you out on–" she was cut off once more as her phone began to buzz again. 

Homelander raised an eyebrow, noticing the change in her demeanor. "You gonna get that?" 

"It’s just my sister." Morgan waved it off, her voice tight as she ignored the call with a tap of her thumb. "I’ll call her back."

But no sooner had the words left her mouth than the phone buzzed again, Sammy’s name flashing across the screen. This time, Morgan hesitated, her fingers tightening around the phone. Sammy never called more than twice in a row unless it was urgent. Something twisted in her gut—a sinking feeling she couldn't quite shake.

Homelander watched her carefully, his expression unreadable. "Maybe you should answer."

Morgan didn’t respond right away. Slowly, she picked up the phone, a strange, cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She slid her finger across the screen and held the phone to her ear.

"Sammy?" Her voice was a little too calm, as if she was bracing herself for bad news but still hoping it wasn’t what she feared.

There was a pause on the other end. She could hear her sister breathing, and that alone was enough to send her pulse racing.

"Morgan..." Sammy’s voice broke, shaky and thin. "It's Dad. He's... he's gone."

The words hit like a physical blow, knocking the air out of her lungs. For a moment, everything around her faded—her lavish bedroom, Homelander’s presence, the soft hum of the city beyond the tower. It was just her and Sammy’s voice, raw and filled with grief, and the heavy, final truth that her father was gone.

Morgan blinked, her mind racing to catch up with the weight of the words. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. All she could do was sit there, frozen, as the reality sank in.

“I—” Morgan started, her voice cracking before she could even form a coherent thought. Her chest tightened, an overwhelming ache swelling beneath her ribs. “I... okay. I’ll—I’ll make my way home. Do I need to call Lucas?”

For a solid minute or two, Morgan shifted into autopilot. On one level, she was aware of the things Sammy was telling her, and she was responding appropriately. On another level, all she seemed to be conscious of was her heart thundering painfully hard in her ribcage. 

Her father had been battling with stage four pancreatic cancer for some time already, and she knew that this was an eventuality. Even so, she thought she would have had more time. He had sounded well enough on their last phone call, but now she was wrestling with the fact that he was gone.

At some point she had said her goodbyes, and she was vaguely aware of her name being called.

“...Psyren? Psyren?” Homelander’s voice pierced through the haze in her mind, tinged with irritation but laced with something else, something uncharacteristically soft. “Morgan, are you in there?”

“Yeah…” she responded automatically, her brow furrowing as she sat up straighter in her bed. The room felt too small, too cold. “Yeah, I just need to... I have to go.”

Her pulse rushed in her ears, drowning out everything but the thundering ache in her chest. Her hands trembled slightly as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She moved on autopilot, ignoring the sharp pain still lingering from her injury as her body adjusted. A wave of numbness washed over her, a protective shield against the weight of her father’s absence.

“Go?” Homelander echoed, the concern etched into his brow deepening. “You’re on bed rest, doctor’s orders. You can’t go.”

Robotically, she brushed past him, her eyes distant as she made her way to the dresser. Her fingers fumbled with the drawers, yanking out clothes without much thought.

“Dr. Foster can kiss my ass,” Morgan murmured, her voice hollow. The grief that threatened to engulf her pressed against her ribcage, tighter with each breath. “My dad just died. I’m going home.”

She didn’t care about the dull throb in her side, or the way her vision blurred as tears welled up. She couldn’t afford to break down. Not yet. Not in front of him. Not again. Her family needed her. Everything else could wait.

Homelander stood frozen, his usual air of control slipping as he watched her. He opened his mouth to say something, but for once, the words didn’t come. Instead, he just watched her pack with that same intense, unreadable gaze, the silence between them thick with unspoken things.

Finally, he spoke, quieter than before. “Do you need anything? I can... help.”

Morgan stopped, hovering in the entry of her walk-in closet. For the briefest moment, she let herself meet his eyes, surprised by the offer. But she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “No. I just need to get home.”

Leaning her head against the open archway into her closet, she drew in a painfully deep breath. 

“I’ll reach out to Ashley then.” He said decisively. “She can help arrange everything you need. It’s not like you’ll be out in the field in the next few days anyway. You might as well spend the rest of your recovery with your family.” 

If Morgan had been paying closer attention, she might have registered the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, tinted with the slightest degree of curiosity. That was a detail she would have to file away for a later time. For the moment, she was desperately trying to keep herself grounded and focus on the things she needs.

”Thank you.” She murmured with a gentle nod, before retreating into the closet to find her luggage.

Morgan stayed in the closet longer than necessary, her fingers tracing the edges of her suitcase. She could hear Homelander’s low voice outside the room, speaking to Ashley, but the words blurred into static. 

Just breathe. Just get through this.

It was a simple mantra that she played through her mind on repeat until the moment she was on a private jet bound for the Pawhuska Municipal Airport. The hum of the engines filled the quiet space as Morgan sat beside the window, staring out at the clouds but barely registering the view. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her thoughts drifted back to her father. 

She should have been there. God , she should have been there for him. For all the highs and lows he had been there for her, she should have been home and holding his hand in his final moments. Instead, she had been halfway across the country, playing at being a hero and acting as a glorified babysitter for a company that didn’t give a damn about her as a person.

Her father had always been her rock, the one who believed in her ability to change the world. She could hear his voice in her head, telling her that true strength wasn’t in power, but in the courage to stand for what was right. Before her abilities even manifested, he had taught her to be a force for good.

It was because of him that she decided to accept Edgar’s invitation into The Seven in the first place. Despite his distaste for the posturing and pageantry that surrounded Vought and its superheroes, he believed she could make a difference. But now? Now, she felt like a fraud. 

Try as she might to fight against it, she still found herself neck deep in endorsement deals, social media campaigns and all the other superfluous bullshit Vought threw at her. True, she had saved some lives along the way, but she could be doing more. She needed to be better.

The thing that probably hurt the most, was knowing that no matter what, he would have still been proud of her. She just wouldn’t ever get to hear him say it again when she needed it most.

Song: Losing My Religion by BELLSAINT Author’s notes: Thank you all so much for reading this chapter! It’s a bit shorter than the others, but for me it was emotionally heavy. In the next chapter, we’ll see Morgan return home and confront some long-buried emotions as she navigates her family’s grief, all while the pressure from Vought—and Homelander—continues to mount. As always, your feedback means the world to me, and I appreciate all the support you’ve given this story so far!

Next Chapter.

[stardustbarbarians]

Too Pretty For War

Chapter 7 (ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 8| ch. 9)

Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.

Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slight angst

Trigger Warnings: blood, death, nightmares, grief

A/N: PLEASE DON'T LET THE WARNINGS SCARE YOU they're just briefly mentioned in this chapter. I hope y'all enjoy this one I had fun with it. As always, this series is dedicated to @safety-sam (happy birthday, my love <3).

Words: 2.8 k

+++

After the fifth night of isolation with his new bride, Samuel was free to leave to his own chambers. It could not have come any sooner. Ever since their… mishap… on the third night, the air between them had grown stale. While there was less of a chance that one of them would end up in a pool of their own blood at the hand of the other, it was very clear that they were actively avoiding one another out of embarrassment more than anything else. 

Before, Sam had attempted to avoid his wife’s eye simply out of fear that he would fall into an inescapable rage. Now he dodged it out of the deep guilt he experienced each time he glanced her way; seeing her looming above him as he used her for nothing more than his own amusement at seeing her come apart at the seams by his tongue. Each time she would draw breath it reminded him of the small noises she made while astride his hips. It made his face burn, shame and disgrace thrumming thickly through his veins at the memories. 

She also hardly looked his way. Samuel took solace in the fact that they were both embarrassed by that… whatever one would call it. 

As soon as dawn broke over the ocean and shed its weak beams of sun into the temporary chambers Sam had been housed in, the prince was alert and attempting to dress himself. Deciding that being haphazardly dressed was favorable over having to experience that awkward air for another moment, Samuel burst out of the doors. He already had his destination in mind, his feet carrying him swiftly down the sleepy corridors of his marble palace. He passed statues in the likeness of the gods, open archways that led into atriums and gardens until he reached his destination. 

Knowing that he should have knocked, Samuel barged through the doors of Daniel’s chambers anyway. It was dim, that weak sunlight trying its best to light the large room of the advisor. At the sound of someone entering, the figure laying in the bed at the far wall began stirring. A stab of guilt lanced through Samuel’s heart as he came to the realization that he had awoken his best friend. However, it was quickly replaced by joy at the sound of hearing his voice for the first time in days. He had not even spoken a word, rather groaned in confusion, but that mattered not to the prince. 

Sam bounded over to the scholar’s bedside, wrapping his arms around the form of his best friend tightly. There was so much that he had felt as he embraced Daniel, guilt being at the forefront. However, he chose at that moment not to allow himself to think. He would just experience each second as it passed. 

Confused and still had a mind muddled with sleep, Daniel reluctantly reciprocated the embrace. His brow was knit as his mind attempted to piece together what was transpiring. 

“Sammy?” the scholar finally asked, his voice rough from sleep. 

The prince simply nodded, not wanting to disrupt the calm of the moment with his anxious voice. He felt Daniel’s arms tighten around him as he recognized the person embracing him. They stayed in that position until the room was fully filled with sunlight, Samuel finding much needed comfort in the arms of his closest relation. 

Sam was the first to pull away, knowing full well that Daniel would allow him to stay like that for however long he needed him to. However, he did not remove himself from his seat on the bed. 

“Your honeymoon has ended, I see,” the advisor pointed out, shifting himself so that he was able to sit upright against the headboard. 

“Please, refrain from calling it as such,” Sam lamented, flinching at the thought of such a thing. It was far from sweet, his forced time with his wife. 

“It did not go well, I take it.” Daniel’s voice was still gravelly from sleep, clearing his throat to attempt to rid it of that quality. 

The prince scoffed, shaking his head minisculely. “It is a wonder that we both still draw breath.” 

There was a moment where it seemed that Daniel was deciding what his next words would be. Sam knew that meant he was about to say something he knew the prince would not enjoy. 

“Why do you hate her so? I have never seen you this prone to malice towards anyone in all the years that I have known you; not even your father,” he questioned, laying his hand gently atop Samuel’s that was resting on his bedding. 

“She has taken so much from me, Daniel. She ripped away both of my brothers from me, from my poor mother! She took away the life I was meant to live! She removed my right to be with whom I choose rather than forced to live my life at the side of one I can hardly stand to look at! That is why I despise her!” 

He had not meant to get that angry. His own yell bounced off the walls of Daniel’s chambers and back towards him, making the royal wince at his own tone. There was no mistaking the rage in his words, however Samuel hardly recognized his own voice. If he had not known that he had spoken those words, he could have easily mistaken them as those of his father. 

“Was it she who took all of that from you? Or are you simply placing all the blame on a single face to make it easier for yourself?” 

Samuel froze at the words of his best friend. He suddenly felt as if Daniel had peered right into his soul. 

“Something else disturbs you,” the advisor pointed out, his eyes taking in the haunted look in his best friend’s eyes. He recognized that look as the one Sam harbored after experiencing a nightmare. 

Heaving a bone-deep sigh, Samuel closed his eyes and hung his head. Truly, there was nothing that got past his best friend. Glancing back up into Daniel’s compassionate face, the prince began to wonder how he had never seen it before. 

“It was her. She managed to sack the castle and stage a rebellion. The twins both died in front of me, Veronica was beheaded, mother and father were burned at the stake, and-” Samuel’s voice failed him, the hyper-realistic visions of all his loved ones dying horrific deaths making his chest ache, “And you bled out in my arms after she slit your throat before my very eyes.” 

Daniel was silent as Sam attempted to futilely prevent himself from crumbling. It truly was a fruitless venture, the warmth of their blood on his skin resurfacing along with all the visuals from his night terror. 

“What if it is an omen? What if Apollo grants me the gift of prophecy through my dreams?” Samuel finally asked, breaking the silence of the moment. It had been a question he’d pondered for many years. 

“Sam-” 

“This is not the first time I have seen one die in my dreams only for them to perish within days of my vision, Daniel. You know this to be true,” the prince argued, his tears flowing freely down his cheeks. 

The scholar seemed at a loss for words, his brow knit together in deep concern for his best friend. He pulled Samuel in for another embrace, laying his head atop his chest. 

“Perhaps Apollo has favor towards you, I will not deny that possibility. However, I cannot allow you to torture yourself with this burden. This nightmare of yours is most likely a manifestation of your fear of failure,” Daniel reasoned, his voice humming in his chest against Sam’s skin. The scholar’s hand gently smoothed Samuel’s hair, both sensations providing immense comfort to him. 

The prince allowed himself to adjust his way of thinking to accommodate Daniel’s reasoning. It made sense to Sam that the fear he experienced in his waking moments would also extend into his unconscious mind. 

There was something else that Samuel wanted to share with his best friend, but he found himself unable to conjure the words while in his presence. It seemed wrong to discuss what he and Princess Y/N had done on that night, afraid of breaking Daniel’s heart further. It was truly selfish of Sam; Daniel had the right to know. But when he gazed into those hazel brown eyes, Samuel found himself unable to witness them with sorrow caused by his hand. It was unlikely that he would find out what happened, anyway. 

+++

After a while, Daniel had eventually shooed the prince out of his quarters, citing that Sam had princely duties he had to attend to. Knowing the advisor was right, as usual, Samuel left his best friend in order to be properly dressed by Pythius. Instead of his silken Chitons, the manservant suited Sam in his armor. It had been a great deal of time since Samuel was weighed down by his bronze armor, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. It was a familiar one and the gods above knew he had so few of those recently. 

Once he was clad in his battle gear, the prince made for the field behind the palace specifically cultivated for training. He heard the sound of swords clashing into one another before he saw his soldiers sparring, their armor glinting in the sunlight. 

“The prince has returned!” one of them called, the rest of the warriors turning their helmet-clad heads in his direction. Upon spotting the royal, they all ceased their fighting in order to greet him. 

He was soon surrounded, familiar faces smiling up at him. Sam was glad to know that they had missed his presence in his near week absence. 

“Welcome back, your majesty. How was your vacation?” one of them, Alerio, jokingly asked. Every one of them knew that it was far from a peaceful break for the prince. 

The group of soldiers broke out into a fit of chortles, laughing good-naturedly at Samuel’s expense. He was sure the face he made added to the hilarity. 

“Yes, jest all you like. I had much time to ponder our training technique and how to up its difficulty while I was away,” Sam taunted, hearing them all collectively groan at the suggestion. Their training was rigorous as it was, considering they were the prince’s chosen warriors. 

“Was that what you thought about in between bedding the princess?” another one of his warriors called, Sam unable to catch who it was. The prince glared in the general direction of the voice, the group breaking out into immature calls and whoops that often went hand in hand with the topic of intercourse. 

The prince was sure his face was bright red at the implication, embarrassment flooding his veins. “Silence! I wish not to discuss what transpired while I was away! Now, you can either put all thoughts of it from your mind or I will make you run the length of the shoreline-” 

Samuel stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes befalling a figure as he scanned his warriors he was far from expecting to see. But he knew that face anywhere, the difference in armor standing out like a lighting strike in the dark. 

“What are you doing here?” the prince hissed, his teeth clenched together in reaction to the sudden and intense feeling of spite flooding his veins. 

Moving as one, all of the warriors turned their attention towards whatever made their leader so furious in a manner the likes of which they had never seen before. They all came face to face with none other than Samuel’s new bride, varying degrees of shock on their faces. 

“I have come to train with you, your majesty,” Princess Y/N replied, her helmet resting beneath her arm as she stood at her full height. 

“You have, have you?” Sam began trekking towards her, the warriors parting for him to make a clear path to his betrothed. 

“Yes. I wanted to see just how superior Spartan training is to that of the Athenians.” There was no mistaking the challenge in her tone. She was aware that the comment would get under her husband’s skin; she was correct. 

“You are more than welcome to join, Princess,” Sam was unable to quell his dark satisfaction at her surprise, “however, you must first prove yourself.” 

“And what might that entail?” They were sizing one another up, a near perfect parallel to that of the third night. However, Sam would not allow himself to be weak this time. 

A cruel smile slithered itself across the prince’s lips. He had hoped she would ask. 

“You must best me in battle.” 

The crowd of soldiers broke out into a clamor of shock, Sam catching snippets of men debating over who would win. Excitement grew amongst the soldiers as the silence between the newlyweds carried on, both maintaining tense eye contact. 

Finally, the princess nodded. She accepted the challenge. “Be sure that advisor of yours is available, your highness. You shall need someone to lament to after I have bested you.” 

The amount of fury the prince experienced in that moment was not helped in the slightest by his warriors’ reactions to the taunt, all of them “ooh”-ing in clear support of her comment. He would not allow his anger to show, however. He knew it would only grant her satisfaction. Instead he held out his hand to signal to one of the servants to place his sword into his hand. A moment later, he felt the weapon pressed into his palm. His helmet was passed to him as well, the prince never taking his eyes off his opponent as he slid the metal over his head. 

The warriors moved out of the way of the arena, standing off the sides of the line dug into the dirt. Once both were ready for battle, they approached one another, their gazes locked as they sized up the other. The two of them crossed blades, the sound of metal on metal a familiar one to both. 

“The rules are simple. Forcing one out of the battle area or successfully disarming your opponent counts as an instant win. For either side.” 

The princess scoffed in arrogance. “Hardly a challenge.” 

“BY YOUR COUNT!!” Samuel shouted to Pythius. 

With his heartbeat in his ears, the prince hardly heard his servant speak. However, once the word “one” entered his ears, Samuel attacked. He swung his sword right for her chest, the princess parrying his blow with her own sword. It soon became a dance of skill, both parties having years of experience pertaining to swordplay. Each attack by the other was met by a defensive measure, following it up with an attack of their own. Neither was equipped with a shield, only having their weapons to defend with. 

Sweat was soon accumulating on Samuel’s skin, the sun heating up his armor along with the physical exertion. She was a worthy opponent, Sam was willing to admit. Her foot work was excellent, never allowing him to trip her up with his movement. Where took a more defensive approach, Princess Y/N favored the offensive. That was how Sam would beat her: allow her to tire and then best her. 

There was a moment where she managed to catch the prince’s arm with her blade, the sharpened metal drawing blood. However, Sam hardly flinched and continued to battle her. They were both becoming winded, the fight lasting much longer than the other had anticipated. However, pride would allow neither to surrender. Pride be damned, it seemed, as the princess was able to grab the prince by his ankle and cause him to fall onto his back. Wasting no time, she quickly pinned him down by straddling him and pressing her sword into his throat. 

“Do you surrender?” She was panting, the fight a strenuous one. Sweat was also forming on her skin, the moisture catching in the light. 

Sam would not have the chance to answer. 

“Prince Samuel!” Someone called, catching the attention of every person in the immediate area. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, Sam threw his head into the ground beneath him in a fit of annoyance. Taking the opportunity, Sam was able to change positions with the princess by pinning her to the ground. She growled in frustration at being bested in that instance, the prince throwing her a wink before getting to his feet. He would have offered his hand to assist his wife as well, but he knew she would refuse it. 

“State your business,” the royal commanded, still breathing heavily. He had removed his helmet by then, shaking his hair out. 

“Prince Samuel, please, make haste,” the servant girl urged, a look of extreme distress in her eyes. 

“What does this concern?” He would be lying if he stated that her distress was not a cause for worry for him. 

The serving girl glanced around nervously, swallowing anxiously before speaking. Her hands were trembling, her face drained of all its color. “It is your father-” 

No

“-he is gravely injured.” 

+++

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[idv-askchaoticduo]

November 24th

"Dear Sam It's been some months since the last time we spoke face to face, stuff around the orphanage are slowly getting better, we finally got a new caretaker that doesn't try to... you know... make us devoted to a false God. It's really nice having someone else to help here with the more younger ones, I've been trying to teach them the basics but it's still a long way...

Those are the new updates I have to tell about our 'home', but it's not the main reason why I'm writing this. I hope it gets delivered in time.

It should be November 24th for when you're reading this. which only means one thing for me and possibly you.

Happy Birthday, Sammy. Another year where you're not here with me, but I hope you at least have someone better to spend your days with, you always used to complain about how boring it was to only feel comfortable to talk with me... til this day I'm not sure if I should be hurt by that or not, you were always a weird one to understand.

I'm getting off-tracks... From wherever you are, I wish you the best of birthdays, let us hope for a brighter future finally free from sadness and sorrow.

Your Best Friend, Dominic."

Attached to the letter, there's a drawing presumably made by the kids in the orphanage.

. . .

"Is that all it says?"

"Pretty much, you should learn how to read on your own by now."

"I'm trying..." The Candy dealer says, just laying down on her bed while the Gambler read the note. After reading, he folds it and hands it back to her.

"I got you something too, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

The girl sits up again, looking at the other pull a nicely wrapped gift from his closet. the shiny golden ribbon catching her attention.

"It's not much... but I struggled a bit to get it in the manor, I saw you look at it a lot while we were still on the streets... I couldn't get it back then but now I got the chance to! I hope it still means something to you."

". . ."

"Leave the room."

"Wha-"

"Please, I don't like you seeing me like this."

". . . Sure, feel free to yell at me if you didn't like it."

Lawrence walks up to her and ruffles her hair for a moment, she only huffs and watches him go to the door.

"Happy Birthday Sam."

Once alone... Samantha starts unwrapping it until it's just a box, slowly opening it to reveal a cute stuffed Magpie plushie with what seems to be a chef hat and apron. Her eyes seem to look at it for a moment before hugging it. The Candy Dealer closes her eyes... ignoring the feeling of small tears tainting her face.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e2 wendigo (teleplay: eric kripke, story: ron milbauer, terri hughes burton)

(this is a rewatch, so spoilers abound)

quelled my irrational anxiety long enough to start the rewatch and recap what i have not yet recapped and thank fuck for that because not having my scheduled evening task was not going well. i am staunchly ignoring the not-so-distant future where i will again be out-of-task.

fun fact this is the first screenshot i took while watching this show, long before i considered doing these posts. brotherly chat at the fire, if i recall correctly. we'll soon see! thought it'd be a fun easy draw because it's almost entirely dark with the little kiss of light around his profile.

DEAN You okay? SAM Yeah, I'm fine. DEAN Another nightmare? You wanna drive for a while? SAM Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that. DEAN Just thought you might want to. Never mind. SAM Look, man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay. DEAN Mm-hm.

now if that isn't love

SAM What, are you cruising for a hookup or something? DEAN What do you mean? SAM The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl? DEAN I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it? SAM What? DEAN Since when are you all shoot first ask questions later, anyway? SAM Since now.

little cheesy in execution (blaming some of this on the music honestly*) but whatever :p sammy's a new man, hardened by his loss and grief 😤

*guess who did the music this episode 🤪

was curious since this is the same director as the pilot, if he did more episodes this seasons - nope, just 1x01 and 1x02. but this little quote on his wiki page

David Nutter, even with his extensive experience in the industry, was impressed by Padalecki and Ackles' chemistry. Never have I done a show where two actors clicked so well together. These guys had never met each other before and it was like they were instantly brothers.S1Com

we're all sending up our thanks for whatever led to them being cast, for real

HALEY Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.

coming in hot already with sibling parallels. even when john was alive, he wasn't around and dean's the father mother brother situation. and we've got a vulnerable lookin little brother here we're all gonna be fighting over to take care of

DEAN Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing. HALEY Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself. DEAN I think I know how you feel.

looking for dad, looking for sam after dad is gone...

s1e2 / s5e14

oh, my dear old friend, untitled 1 and 2!! and what kind of background is this! lol my spn desktop background update tag for all my riveting screenshots of their laptop desktop backgrounds - apparently i called this their snazzy background when it was used in s5, but damn dude look at the coloring differences. how warm/red the s5 is in comparison. skateboard on a chest i guess is what's happening there

aw man, apparently the actress playing the sister, gina holden, was claudia stilinski in an episode of teen wolf but her scene got deleted. and little brother there alden ehrenreich was han solo in solo: a star wars story (which i haven't seen.)

i do know i know someone in this episode though, little surprised i didn't do a hey i know you post for it actually. not sure when the first one i did for spn was. s1e11 scarecrow apparently!

s1e2 callum keith rennie as roy / the killing s1e4 as rick felder / the x-files s1e15 as tommy / existenz (1999) as hugo carlaw

we got an xfiles and the killing alum, and he was in existenz! in fact i did a hey i know you for him when i was rewatching the xfiles a few years ago 😂

someone give this child a hug (and the actor was actually a kid, 16)

DEAN Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat. HALEY Why didn't you just tell me that from the start? DEAN I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So we okay?

oh yeah, dean? what about spilling your guts about all the family secrets to cassie, huh?? lol. gotta maintain your asshole-man image

wonder if the peanut m&ms was the only actual brand placement they did, their production design people were always whipping up fun fake branded drinks and foodstuff

hey, it's one of the xfiles-y sounds (when she says "our packs!") i didn't notice this until way way later. grabbed a clip of it from 10x12 compared to the same effect used in the xf movie fight the future (because i happened to know where the sound was in that movie, it's def a standard xf score sound.) i think it was just a lot more forward in that s10 clip, maybe that's why it caught my ear and had slid by unnoticed before.

cannot get over him looking like the saddest teenaged baby brother in all the lands

DEAN You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours? SAM Dean— DEAN No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember? SAM Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?

the brotherly chats *chef's kiss*

SAM Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here? DEAN This is why. This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.

the tagline that never dies

SAM That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is? DEAN I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.

for real, sam. dad's an ass :p i think someone justified it to me that john couldn't contact them directly because of the demons watching him and he didn't want to lead them to the boys

SAM Dean...no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about. DEAN Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. SAM How do you do it? How does Dad do it?

oh, sam.

DEAN Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable. I'll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.

it's this kind of thing that grabbed me by the throat early on. clear communication, sam has been deflecting but he opened up a crack after dean gently pushed again. and dean is honest and kind, trying to take care of sam. ugh. hurt/comfort my beloved.

buh, this action music when roy gets yoinked by the monster is not great.

SAM So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.

snorted. i swear sam got stuck with some cheesy lines back in the day. part of my hot take theory of why jackles's acting stood out more to me initially, i think he just got better dialogue. padalecki hit it out of the park with those moments with jackles, but same episode he had a lot of like... i'm taking charge of the situation moments that felt awkward

sammy brooding with dad's journal, dean staring at sam for a very long time, he's just a baby ����

we're all having a moment

this is why i reached the 30 image limit when i rewatched 1x01 :p

LOL. we can't swear really, but we're gonna use the hell out of the words we can say

baby brother clinging on to anyone at this point, sammy holding the line

kinda looks like the game of thrones night king lol

via wiki

Eric Kripke had long been critical of this episode, particularly because he felt the creature wasn't successfully scary. "He looked more like Gollum's tall, gangly cousin than anything else", he says in Supernatural: The Official Companion Season 2. However on February 11, 2018 he tweeted: "I have something shocking, even sacrilegious to say: I watched #Wendigo with my son for the first time in over 10 years. And it wasn't bad at all. 2005 effects were lame, but it was scary. Plus young Han Solo! I'm taking it off my shit list. #spnfamily @cw_spn"

inexplicably some sort of jaguar type roar as the wendigo is burning

HALEY So I don't know how to thank you. DEAN smirks lasciviously. HALEY smiles despite herself. HALEY Must you cheapen the moment? DEAN Yeah.

very cute. deflecting from dealing with the gratitude and lightening the moment

DEAN Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right? SAM Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving.

this scene obviously has been gif'd to death but i didn't really remember the context and it makes it all the better. sam gets to return the very long staring moment, and lets dean give him a little treat to take care of him and make him feel better that he declined earlier

and jared, you made a choice with that expression. I think that look could be enough to launch a thousand ships alone. the line feels like it should be kind of teasing mischievous little brother vibes, but his face says unbearable affection and something I'd expect more out of a romantic-dynamic teasing feel. wild

my cup runneth over

[he-will-set-us-free]

Sammy headcannon : background

Because this little bitch has been brewing rent-free for 4 years in my mind, and now i think it's finally time to write about him.

Okay so hear me out, because it's one hell of a story.

It all starts in London, right before the Great War starts : a young and calm bartender goes on with his day, cleaning up tables and chairs while humming a merry tune in a quiet manner. He could be 25, but not older ; and his father still runs the place. The bar is all silent, since it's only the start of the afternoon, so, when the door opens and the small bells chime, it doesn't go unnoticed. Used to this routine, the young bartender greets the door opening with a smile and a wave, on his knees while scrubing the dirt off a chair's leg. Two young children run in, visibly holding a grudge against each other as the tallest pushes the smaller against the doorframe for the privilege of coming in first. They both put down their schoolbags against the bar, and as the tall one helps his way on a chair on the counter, the other child decides to wander around, still looking at everything as he discovers his environment for the first time. He peaks above the weary tables, and chuckles quietly as he deliberately make the woodplanks squeak under his feet. He has on his face the same calm as the bartender, the same expression of rêverie as he wanders around.

Sitting on his chair, his elbows on the oaken counter, the older child moves his legs around as he looks at the posters behind, mostly regarding the venues of a beautiful singer : a woman with mesmerising, dusty blue eyes, and long, flowing blonde hair giving her the panache and the elegance of an American diva. Her name, as stated with many beautfiul lettering on each of these posters, is Edna Lawrence, the Fabulous Edna Lawrence. There's also sketches of her, in front of an amazed audience, and all sorts of cheery expressions on her face as the pencil strokes bleed out love and admiration. They don't comport any kind of signature, except an occasionnal "With love," scribbled in the corner of a particularly good portrait.

The small child eventually bumps into the bartender's leg, and their eyes lock : the brownish, gentle gaze of the adult encounters the stunning, icy blue of the boy and they both illuminate with joy. The bartender puts away his cleaning tools and hugs the young boy, stroking his really, really blonde head. They rarely exchange words, that's all. But the bartender loves his sons, and as the afternoon goes by, he doesn't even mention that it was way too early for them to come home. And as the evening falls, the family, joined by the bartender's father, are playing cards in a spot clean bar. The oldest son is winning, as the youngest and their father teamed up against him. The grandfather looks amused, as he knows for sure that in a couple of rounds, he'll win easily, if the luck of the draw is with him. "This is not fair ! Jacob's always winning ! He's cheating !", complains the boy while shuffling through his hand in order to find something good to play, as if counting and organizing his cards would make a stronger one appear. His father looks over his shoulder and discreetly points out a card : it's part of their team play. "Sammy, please calm down and think about it for a moment. If you take some risks, you can win big afterwards.", says the father with a not-so-discreet wink. Sammy finally throws in his card, pouting and already figuring out that the game was lost. "Ah, to be a gambler. Good lessons you give your sons, Glenn.", laughs the older man while slightly bending his own cards, before releasing them for a quick whip sound, right before playing his own card. He looks just as rough as his voice, and his laugh seems filled with smoke even though he hasn't lit up a single cigarette in days. Too expensive to waste money on, he now says. "I'm not-", the bertender tries to defend himself as he is interrumpted by his father. "I know, I know. You're a good father... And your own son already outsmarts you.", he laughs again.

Pride burns in the Jacob's blue eyes as he tries to decrypt the messages between his father and his younger brother. His brown hair is as smooth as silk, perfectly combed, and reflects some shine from the lamps and the rays of sunlight. "You're cheating !", complains again Sammy as he pulls out a good card and takes away all the points. "And tarot is dumb !". He accelerates the game's tempo and already throws his strongest card on an impulse. "Hey, shut your mouth ! I'm just lucky, and you're jealous !", lets out the older. "You're always jealous !", he adds before being interrupted by his grandfather's hand on his shoulder. He plays his card, just enough to top Sammy's, which owes him an other complaint from the smallest. "You two, calm down.", he sighs. "You're too young to compete against each other. And besides... No competitions between two losers." There it was : the World gets put on the table with a grin from the grandfather, and his card-bending and slapping gets louder and louder. The few last turns go on the same way, and upon counting up the scores, the old man easily wins by a dozen points. Glenn chuckles as he tries to cheer up Sammy, who's apparently very upset, whereas Jacob still, quietly, tries to figure out why his granpa didn't play his most powerful cards first.

"The problem is that, both of you, you're too impulsive. Jacob, don't scream out your victory before receiving the medal. And you're the opposite, Sammy : why are you certain you're going to lose anyway, before the game has ended ?" He raises up his head, and while looking at his grandpa, he wonders too. Why does he always feel like Jacob is going to one-up him ? Will his brother always be better than him ?

"You got lots of things to learn, and you better start out soon."

Oh, Sammy didn't learn soon enough to prevent himself from his own demise. And his brother still does better than him.

[the-therapist-is-ace]

(VERY LONG POST!!!)

Hello everyone!

I'm sorry for the people that follow me for other things than BATIM because this is my new hyperfixation at the moment, please bear with me xD

I suddenly decided to share my ideas about some BATIM AU I had for... a while since BATDR just came out and the fandom is back from the dead x)

So basically this is a Power AU. With everyone of the main cast having particular abilities. (I actually had the idea from the fanfiction "Magic cleaner is more than just an advertisment" by @hello-im-not-a-possum on Ao3, go check it out it's awsome!) I just thought it would be funny because why not xD

Those with powers are: Henry, Joey, Wally, Jack, Sammy, Susie, Norman, Thomas and Allisson. Let's go in that order!

Henry Stein: Do I really have to say? Bringing drawings to life of course!

Pre-Ink: At the beginnig it wasn't much; just a little drawing moving on the page here and there. That's actually what gave Joey the inspiration to start cartoons, seeing his old friend's drawings moving on their own on the pages. But when begining animating Bendy, and by his love for the characters he created, it started to become stronger. Strong enough that the Little Devil Darling would sometimes pop up to reality with his friends for several hours in a row. That is until he got drafted for the war and left the studio. As the years passed by after the war, he discovered that he could even manipulate at the manner of an elemental bender the ink. But it wasn't really strong; just enough to make some shapes and forms when he had trouble visualizing an idea. His powers continu to grow after he returned home, but he became a master at hiding them.

In the Cycle: Joey sealed away (I'll get to it on his part) almost all of his powers before throwing him in the Cycle. He knows that Henry have the strongest magic out of everyone in the Studio, so he went through several sealing and bending rituals before sending him in it. But even that wasn't enough, because Henry can still do a few things; the Golden Ink is one of them. He can create it, manipulate it, make it last for as long as he want, and hide them from Joey's view. He's also capable of using the globs of ink to shape them in the form he need them to -there's no handy machines like in the game in this AU, Henry do that all by himself-. And despite Joey's attempts, he's little by little breaking free from the script's influence...

Joey Drew: Devil's deals and rituals. He can make rituals -often satanics but can be both... well could be at the beginning- contracts and deals with people and they CAN'T go against it after "signing" them. He can also easily persuade them if he feel a weakness in their heart.

Pre-ink: Nothing too bad -compared to what he did next- using his deals and contracts to make sure the Studio and Bendy were growing and becoming more popular and loved. Henry was often his impulse control and moral compass. At that time he would never had the idea of using his powers against Henry.

After Henry left: Oh boy. He took it BADLY. He made a deal with GENT Corporation to create the Ink Machine as a way to "replace" Henry's talent, and to prove to him that the Studio didn't need his "temporary bringing the characters to life"; after all the Ink Machine would bring them to life FOR GOOD.

We all know how that sorted out though. -he had to make a deal to every employees to forbiding them to quit-. However, seeing his former -magical- employees having a (very understandable) grudge against him, he made another deal this time with the Machine itself to trap its ink-corrupted inhabitants locked up: by reducing and warping their powers into something else entierly, something twisted. Exploiting a weakness in their minds to bend them and theirs powers. However, a time loop isn't a type of magic that he could hide from magic users, even as weaken as can be. So after throwing Henry in the Cycle to torture him, he made sure that they would forget the loops. But against Henry's magic it's starting to wear off...

Wally Franks: -I took the idea from hello-Im-not-a-possom fic here ^^'- Telekinesis Fantasia style. Only on cleaning supplies and light objects in general; he's still young, it needs time to develop and he's happy for now with the janitor job.

Pre-Ink: Was absolutely oblivious about why every magical people he could feel and see in the studio were trying their damnest to hide theirs powers from the CEO of the place (to each other's too, but not as much as Joey). Wally personally didn't have a problem to admit that he had magic on his own when Drew caught him in the act -it was the equivalent in real life of the Fantasia scene really; brooms, buckets, rags and feather duster flying around in an organized chaos- because he figured that ("Well he got magic on his own! Can't be all that bad right?") He's the one that accidentally revealed the existence of magic to Joey. (well the existence of his employees' magic) He's also one of the very firsts that Drew made the deal to be unable to leave with. So despite what he loved to say, he couldn't even with his magic "get outta here!"

In the Cycle: He's the one that Joey reduced the most. In a Boris body (this is my AU again) he was unable to cast any spell; he's one of the most vulnerable and sensitive to magic now. But it doesn't stop him from being able to change some of his cards to another color or shape in his games with Henry (to this day he had never been caught.) As time pass by though, he have a nagging feeling that he should... Get away from this place... And it's only getting stronger.

Jack Fain: This one doesn't really have a precise name for it. Jack is a litteral muse; mostly to Sammy but he can inspire others musicians and artists if he write lyrics -or poems-. He brings inspiration and motivation wherever he goes, and as such everyone in the Studio appreciate him.

Pre-Ink: He was just the geniune positive energy of all the studio. No matters the crazy deadlines, the inhumane amount of work, or later on the pipes bursting everywhere, Jack Fain always had a smile and tried to give everyone the strenght and will to continu creating. His lyrics never failed to move the audience, and together with Sammy they gained several awards. (all under Joey Drew's name however...) His powers weren't visibles; he was the one that gave everyone creativity behind the scene, the strenght to move forwards and continu despite it all. He wasn't the animator that could bring the drawings into the real world, nor was he the janitor who make brooms and buckets fly to clean after hours. He was the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whisper to you a new idea or a new song. As such, Joey didn't think it was necessary to twist his powers more than the ink did.

In the Cycle: It's more or less the same but without a lot of his memories from his life before the Studio. Asides the moments with Sammy it's pretty blurry. But since there's not really a lot of people to inspire these days (oustide of Sammy when he was lucid enough to remember how to compose) he's quite powerless. But even in his form of a Searcher, he can still bring a bit of joy and strenght to the others Searchers and the Lost Ones that are under Sammy's wing back at the village.

Sammy Lawrence: Can be seen as telekinesis as well, but stronger than Wally's; if he's angry enough (which already happened) he can throw a person across the room with a wave of his conductor stick (it was Joey.) Technically it's more wind control. It's a tangible force that you can feel contrary to Wally's telekinesis.

Pre-Ink: Prodigy. In music and magic both, the guy was already capable of playing an entiere orchestra with his magic at the age of seventeen. He is seen as one of the strongest air-bender (not the last one thankfully) of the century in the element-bending community. As such he didn't had friends in said-community. He left them to meet his best friend, and musical partner Jack. He used his powers several times when Joey's deadlines weren't humanly possible (he prefer to have the band rehearsal his songs before recording them though; he already wrote songs that were impossible to play without magic before. Only realizing when the band looked at him with bewildered eyes when seeing the sheets he had written.) While he very much did not tell outright that he was an air-bender, he didn't tried to hide him from the band members, Jack, Susie or Norman -well Norman was more him discovering Sammy's abilities because he's just spying on everyone than Sammy telling Norman-.

After Susie was fired and Jack went "missing", he went to confront Joey about it. Only to get drugged without his knowledge by an ink coffee served by his boss (I don't believe you can get dependent by only having an ink pipe burst above your head and some drips of ink getting in your mouth sorry ^^') and got bend by a deal at the end of it. Joey wasn't stupid; he knew that Sammy's magic wasn't going to be weaken and twisted as easily as the others; so he went to poison him slowly but surely to erode them.

In the Cycle: His air-bending abilities were completely burried under the corruption of the ink. Now, his connection with the Ink Demon and the Searchers is taking all of his capacity. He can feel when the Ink Demon is coming and hear him talk; call upon the Searchers and communicate with them, ordering them to attack or not, as well as the Lost Ones. All of this as in the game. The only trace of his wind abilities is his capacity to walk through walls. And the feeling that his mind is trying to fly away from the ink trapping it. And what's with the deja vue feeling?

Susie Campbell: There isn't a real name for her powers either; it's more or less emotion-based. If she's happy, her voice -especially when she's singing- will send you a feeling of happiness as well; when she is sad, you will feel upset upon hearing her. And when she's angry... well if she was angry enough at someone, the nearest people around her would have taken a swing at that person's face. She brings emotions to people by mere hearing.

Pre-Ink: Nothing really out of the ordinary at first; the voice actress was appreciated and loved by everyone. She was with Jack, the sweetest person there is in the Studio, as well as the one that bring the most emotions in her acting. Nobody realized exactly that she had power, until she was -for an episode- rehearsing a song where Alice was angry about the latest prank Bendy had pulled on her. The acting was perfect! So much so that the other voice actor voicing Bendy started to get angry at the toon demon, under everyone's confusion. Upon seeing that, Susie immediatly apologized ans shyly explained that it was probably because of her.

However... The day she was fired, everyone remembered it. She was so upset, angry and betrayed that the music department didn't got out unscathed.

In the Cycle: Joey took the opportunity to use Susie's despair as a way to persuade her to make a deal with him; to become Alice. She accepted, and we all know how that played out. With the ink corruption, her voice cannot make people feel emotional anymore. But she gained something in exchange; the ability to lure people with it, like a true siren, and to put them in a transe... However an Angel is patient. And Susie shall wait for her time to take control back of her twisted body, which she was forced to share with a corrupted version of the character she loved.

Norman Polk: Darkness/Shadow manipulation, and noctural vision.

Pre-Ink: Norman definitely didn't tell his coworkers his abilities. Firstly because he didn't want to be called out for his sneaking habit, and secondly because his element doesn't really have the best reputation. The only things you hear about shadow-benders are how cruel they are of stealing light away, how creepy it is for them to roam around in the darkness and how they are all secretly serial killers. Not the best resume to work at an animation studio, you'll admit. However, he used his abilities a lot; he fused with the shadows when he heard something that he wanted to investigate, turn off the lights in the Studio with a mere snap of his fingers -nobody understood what the heck was going on until Joey investigate throughly every employees' abilities before using the Ink Machine- and of course, played a lot of pranks by suddenly making a projector that he had previously covered the lense with his powers, go off. So for an outsider's point of view the projector suddenly turned on without anyone near it. (he scared a lot of animators that day).

In the Cycle: After he eavesdropped a particularly worrying conversation between Thomas Connor and Joey Drew about the Ink Machine, he got caught, without him noticing himself. Before he could warn others however, Joey called him in his office and used a binding circle to keep him in place before decapitating him. As with Henry, Drew used a lot of seals, and others rituals to reduced and corrupt Norman's abilities; but since dark-benders are not bend by the usual spells as others elementals, Joey had the idea of using its own opposite: light. He switched Norman's head with a projector, and activated the Machine. Then the Projectionnist was born; forced to see only in the limited range of its own light. A perfect way to make his former employee unable to use his magic.

But since he refused to lose his mind that easily despite the ink's influence, Joey directly throw his soul in the -ironically- darkest depths of the puddles, leaving his body a roaming dangerous husk. But a shadow-bender soul's isn't going to be imprisonned in the darkness eternally. Especially with a new golden light in the Studio...

Thomas Connor: Metal manipulation. More particulary morphing it into a different form.

Pre-Ink: As part of the GENT Corporation, he used his powers on a regular basis. Touching some pole of metal to change it for a wrench, use it for a few screw loose, then change it back to a pole... Oh he need a screwdriver? Another touch ans here you go! His colleagues liked to call him "portable toolkit" but that was it. But he didn't used them nearly as much as when GENT had this new client: Joey Drew. The man clearly had powers of his own, and not pretty ones from what he saw. But that's the thing: while he made that Machine, when that... thing came from it, and what Joey decided to do afterwards... Well Thomas was here. Saw everything. And metal morphing capacities or not, against pentagrams, rituals and bending spells he didn't stand a chance.

In the Cycle: As a Boris clone like Wally, he really don't have a lot to work with either; however, even if the ink had weakened his powers greatly, it didn't changed them... Too much. He can't change metal that he's touching anymore, but he have a mechanical arm. And THIS he can act upon. He can morph it however he please, however he can't solidify it more (which led to many broken arm but he never complained). But that's enough to protect his dear Allisson. Poor Allisson that don't remember anything... He will protect her. Through all those blasted loops. Mark his words Mister Joey Drew.

Allisson Pendle: Waves control. It's a seperate branch of magic users who decend from the air-benders, specified in airwaves. In Allisson's case, it's mostly about soundwaves.

Pre-Ink: Allisson didn't used her magic much, asides from messing with Tom when they were working away from each other. She used airwaves to carry sweet loving messages, whispered teases, or reminders that he forgot something. She was honestly a bit surprised that the Music Director was an air-bender (quite powerful too, or so she heard. Then again rumors have a tendency to being exagerated -she quickly changed her mind seeing him sending Joey flying with a movement however-) but she didn't try to pry. Air-benders and the decendants of mutations in their magic weren't exactly friends after all. So they kept their distances -after Susie's replacement it was for the best- until Joey came to her. Asking her a little favor some years after the Studio closed for good, and that the majority of the employees had either quit or dissapeared.

In the Cycle: As she doesn't remember anything, her magic isn't something she reclaimed back from the ink. As such, Joey didn't even take the hassle of twisting it to a weaker version of it. But as the loops are passing and Henry's influence more and more the script, Drew might realize he made a mistake...

And it's all detailled! It took me ages to finish this xD

If you have questions about it, my ask is opened! I'm in the middle of my BATIM hyperfixation, I'd love to talk about it xD (Also no, I didn't really took the books in consideration sorry)

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

Return of the Dark Angel - Kenny x Emery x Jay

Alrighty, here we go~

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

Tagging a few that expressed interest @moxxieswitchblade, @summertimefun1982

Next, I guess I'll work on an introduction post for Emery (it's now done, just click on 'intro' for a direct link)

Word Count: 5864

Angsty Kenny x Emery / Jay x Emery and slight Hangman x Emery (if you squint enough)

Warnings: Angst, a few swear words, feelings of abandonment, heartbreak

(border by)

Emery stood backstage, throwing her long brown hair up into a messy bun, before she crossed her arms in front of her as she watched a match on one of the screens. Darby Allin and Jungle Boy were taking on Sammy Guevara and Daniel Garcia. Matt was out with a legitimate injury, Nick was out with a kayfabe injury. It left just her and Kenny—and Brandon, too, she guessed.

Kenny said he would meet her here to watch the matches half an hour ago, but he had yet to show. Yet again.

It seemed to be a common occurrence since he returned from the investigation. He hardly ever interacted with her like they used to; play games, go to random arcades, and go out to eat as a team (with the bucks). Even traveling together had almost become non-existent. It felt like she was losing her best friend.

Emery was so deep in thought that she hadn’t even noticed someone had joined her. His blue-gray eyes watched her curiously, his lips rising slowly into a grin as he leaned back and put his hands into his pockets. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he erased the grin from his face.

“I think I see smoke comin’ from those ears…” he muttered, seemingly drawing her from her thoughts. Her eyes refocused, and Emery looked around, jumping slightly as she realized who was beside her.

“Jay…” Emery breathed out, unsure of his intentions at the moment. Sure, while she had been in Japan, she had made many friends—even people outside of Bullet Club. People like Okada, Kota Ibushi, and even Jay—and they remained friends over the years. However, the last time she saw him was in Japan when he had taken Bullet Club from under Kenny.

“Relax, Princess,” Jay teased her, his smirk back on his face as he watched Emery release the breath she had been holding,” You act like I was a bad guy or somethin.”

“Because I know you,” Emery shot back, eyes narrowing playfully,” King Switchblade.”

Jay let out a bark of a laugh, his head tipping back briefly before he held open an arm, “C’mere.”

Emery walked over to him with a smile and wrapped her arms around him. His scent enveloped her—and for the first time in months, she felt at peace. Closing her eyes, she let herself enjoy the moment, her whole body relaxing against his. A few moments passed before someone nearby cleared their throat.

“Okay, children. No funny business,” Juice’s deep voice called out.

“Fuck off,” Jay chuckled, glancing at his Bullet Club mate, as Emery took a step away. When he looked back at her, his smirk disappeared; Jay slowly brought his hand up towards Emery’s face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had fallen from her eye.

“Ree, what’s wrong Princess?”

“Nothing,” Emery shook her head, trying to put a smile on her face,” I’m fine.”

“Emery,” Jay warned, raising an eyebrow,” I know you. C’mon, be honest with me.”

“I…” Emery sighed, before giving up,” It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” Jay shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest, waiting.

“Well…”

He stood there, quiet, and didn’t interrupt her once as Emery told him about the last couple of months—beginning at All Out last year in September. When she got to how Kenny had recently been behaving towards her, ignoring her and almost avoidant, Jay visibly tensed up. His jaw twitched and he wanted nothing more than to punch something. Or someone. But he didn’t- he let Emery finish, and when she did, Jay could tell she was close to crying again. Wordlessly, he cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, before wrapping his arms around her protectively.

“I want nothing more than to kick his ass,” Jay started, his voice soft and right beside her ear,” But for you, I’ll refrain. For now.” He pulled away from the hug, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her brown eyes as she gave him a small smile.

“My princess shouldn’t be treated that way by anyone,” he continued,” You deserve to be around people that respect you—that cherish you.”

Emery knew what he was implying. To leave Kenny, leave The Elite, and rejoin Bullet Club.

“I couldn’t…”

“Shhh,” Jay told her, placing a finger to her lips, giving her a grin and a wink when she glared at him,” Don’t make any plans just yet. Give it some time, princess. When you figure out what you want to do…”

Jay looked over her shoulder and saw Kenny approaching in the distance. It took a minute, but Kenny finally saw Jay standing beside Emery and quickened his pace. Quickly, before the Canadian arrived, Jay finished what he was saying.

“…. You know where to find me.”

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing—Emery, you okay?” Kenny asked her, looking at her briefly before turning his attention to Jay,” Just because you signed here doesn’t mean I won’t still kick your ass.”

“I’d be careful, Omega. If I’ve been told correctly, you’ve got your hands full with another club that’s out for your blood.”

“Is that a—” Kenny began, taking a step towards Jay before Emery cut him off, coming to stand between them.

“Kenny, please. Don’t start,” she pleaded with him. His blue eyes darted down quickly, before going right back to Jay—but just as quickly, his attention went back to Emery. Kenny could see in her eyes the emotional turmoil, the plea she made. Taking a deep breath, Kenny took a step back and looked back at Jay.

“Stay away from Emery. This isn’t New Japan—it’s not your show.”

“S’what you think,” Jay smirked, as Emery looked at him with a silent plea,” It’ll be the ToJay show soon.”

Taking a few steps back, he looked to Emery once more, giving her a wink as he said,” See ya around, Princess.”

Kenny and Emery watched as Jay and Juice disappeared down the hall, before Kenny turned his attention to her.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“I’m fine, Kenny, really,” Emery told him, looking up at him,” You know Jay would never hurt me.”

“Perhaps, but he could corrupt you, my Angel- and that would be devastating.”

“I think you’ve got it wrong, Ken,” she smiled fondly as he looked at her with a confused expression,” The only one who corrupted me was a certain Cleaner.”

Kenny gave a chuckle, bringing her in for a hug,” Touché.” For the first time in months, Emery felt like she finally had her Kenny back. In an instant, however, the moment was ruined when Don cleared his throat.

“You’re all set to go on, Kenny. It’ll be right after they get done and back here,” Don said as Jungle Boys theme rang out across the arena.

“Thanks,” Kenny told him, his arm falling from Emery’s shoulder.

“Hey, Ken—how about we hang out tomorrow and play some Street Fighter?” Emery asked him, sweeping some stray brown hair behind her ear, and for a minute, he looked excited.

“Kenny’s busy tomorrow. Meet and Greets and a few interviews,” Don shook his head before Kenny could speak.

“Right…” Kenny frowned,” Sorry, Angel. Perhaps another day.”

“Yeah…” Emery sighed, wondering when that day would come. If it ever did.

--- Two Weeks Later ---

Hangman walked through the halls of the arena, energy drink in hand, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings. He knew that the Blackpool Combat Club could be lurking anywhere, and while he hated to admit it, walking alone made him an easy four-on-one target. Passing by one hallway, he peered down real quick—full intentions to keep going—but instantly took a step back. His blue eyes locked on Emery, sitting atop an equipment crate. 

Her brown eyes seemed clouded over as though she was lost in thought, her eyes boring a hole into the floor below her. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Hangman walked towards her carefully- he didn’t want to spook her. Since Don Callis convinced Kenny that the Cowboy had hit him last week and knew that Kenny and Emery were seemingly two peas in a pod, he had to be careful. Not that he thought Emery would do that to him… but still, better safe than sorry.

“Ree?” Hangman softly called out, pulling her out of the deep train of thoughts she was tangled in. Her eyes seemed to refocus, and the brunette gave him a soft smile.

“Hey Cowboy.”

Instantly, he knew something was wrong. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes like usual; her eyes didn’t brighten up; even her voice sounded… different. Emery didn’t even keep eye contact with him; the moment she acknowledged him, her eyes fell toward the floor.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a few steps closer to her. She gave a low chuckle, his heart dropping at how miserable it sounded—how weird it sounded coming from her.

“It’s… it’s nothing. Don’t worry—”

“No, no—Ree,” Hangman shook his head, interrupting her as he came to stand right in front of her,” Despite all the shit that’s gone down, you’re still my friend. I care about you—please. What’s wrong?”

It took a minute, silence passing between them, before Emery glanced back up at her friend, and the instant she did Hangman felt… He felt angry but more so, he felt like his heart began to shatter. Emery had tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Instantly, Hangman sat his drink down on the crate beside her, placing his hands on her legs gently.

“Ever feel… like the person you care the most about… forgets you even exist?” Emery murmured softly, holding back the tears as best she could. Her eyes trailed down, focusing on Hangman’s chest; she knew the second she looked into his eyes that she would start crying, and it was the last thing she wanted.

Slowly, she continued, her voice cracking halfway,” Ever feel like… while they mean the world to you… that—that you mean absolutely nothing to them?”

“This about Kenny?” Hangman asked softly. Emery’s brown eyes flickered up to meet his blue ones, and as she gave a small nod, a tear fell down her cheek. Adam’s eyes widened, a hand reaching up towards her face to wipe it away.

“Hey, hey… Princesses aren’t supposed to cry,” he told her, his voice almost a whisper. After a brief pause, his hand on her cheek, Hangman returned his hand to her leg, and Emery continued.

“Kenny’s been… I don’t know. He’s just been different… since coming back. And with Jay showing up two weeks ago…”

Life had gotten chaotic- they both knew that. With two Bullet Club leaders—one current, one former—it was bound to happen. Especially when Jay was the one that overthrew Kenny years previously.

“Everything happening with the titles and with combat club… it’s like he forgets I’m even there…” Emery continued on, trying to hold back her tears,” I’ve tried talking to him countless times. Not even work-related stuff—but about anything. To get his mind off it all so that he can relax… but something always comes up… I-I finally got him to stop for a moment last Wednesday…”

--Last Wednesday, mid-taping of Dynamite—

“Don—wait, hey,” Emery called out, closing the distance between her and Kenny’s manager. The bald, older man turned to face her briefly before continuing on his way. Quickly, she followed along behind him as they approached Kenny’s locker room.

“Can you let Kenny know I need to talk to—”

“Kenny’s a busy man, Emery, he doesn’t have time to chat,” Don said dismissively.

“I know he’s busy- but I just… I really need to talk to him.”

They came to a stop at a door that read ‘Kenny Omega’ and Don turned around to face Emery.

“Please?”

“Okay, fine,” Don sighed, “I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you.”

Emery waited patiently, leaning against the wall. The minutes were ticking by, and she began to wonder if Don actually gave Kenny her message. Ever since the beginning, when Don started hanging around- she never liked him; something about him made her uneasy. Emery knew Kenny would come out of his locker room soon, to make his way to the guerilla before his match, so even if Don didn’t tell Kenny she was out there, Emery could catch him on the way. A few more minutes ticked by before the door opened and out came Kenny with Don right behind him.

“Kenny—”

“Not right now, Angel, I’m a bit busy,” Kenny cut her off, not even stopping as he walked towards the stage. Quickly, Emery followed along behind him, ignoring Don completely.

“I know you are—I just—”

“Perhaps, after his match—“Don interjected, but Emery paid him no mind. Quickening up her pace, she passed Kenny and spun around, stopping in front of him. Coming to an abrupt halt, Kenny gave her a look she couldn’t quite place.

“Emery—”

“No, I know, Kenny. You’re busy, I get it,” Emery told him,” Just… promise me you’ll call me after the show is over? I-I really need to talk to you. Please.”

Kenny and Emery stared at each other for a brief moment, his blue eyes softening slightly. It was almost as if Kenny was worried; before he could ask her, though, he felt Don’s hand on his shoulder, reminding him of his match coming up.

“Yeah, okay,” Kenny nodded, “I’ll call.”

“Thank you,” Emery smiled softly at him, stepping aside to let him continue his path. She kept her eyes on Kenny’s retreating form but didn’t miss the look that Don gave her as he followed behind.  

--- Back to present ---

“Adam… he never called,” Emery frowned, swallowing the lump in her throat,” He always calls me when he says he will. Or texts me—something! But he didn’t…”

“Maybe… maybe he just got busy and forgot?” Hangman suggested. He knew Kenny wouldn’t purposely do something like this. It wasn’t like him. Then again, with Callis involved, Hangman didn’t know what to think.

“I thought so too—but a few days ago… back on Monday. I was with Matt, Nick, and Brandon. Shooting for BTE,” Emery continued,” Guess who Matt got a text from?”   

Hangman felt his heart drop. Did Kenny actually forget to get ahold of her? Was he doing it on purpose? Neither scenario was one that Hangman wanted to believe, but something was going on.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Adam,” Emery said, her eyes filling with tears once more,” I don’t—I’ve always been in Ken’s corner… since day one. I’ve always been there. Every championship. Every defense. Every win or loss. Every injury! He’s my best friend…and--” By now, the tears were falling freely down her face, and Hangman felt terrible. He knew she had been close to finally admitting that she had fallen in love with Kenny. He had known it for years now, as had the Bucks.

“I don’t know…. If I can continue to be… if this is how I’m going to be treated…”

“You definitely don’t deserve it, darlin’,” Adam told her, both hands cradling her face as he attempted to wipe away her tears,” You have been there for him. I’ve seen it. Bucks have seen it. Hell, the world has seen it. You—you could come hang out with me a bit? I sure wouldn’t mind having you in my corner again.”

He gave her a smile, to which she returned a small grimace, gently pulling away from him. His hands fell back towards her legs as he waited for her to speak.

“I-I can’t… You’ve got a Blackpool problem,” Emery reminded him,” And you’re so close to being back with the Bucks… and Kenny.”

Silence fell between them for a few seconds before she raised her hand and put it on one of his.

“The four of you… you’re amazing individually, but… together? You’re magic…” Emery gave him a soft smile, but it quickly fell from her face, “… I think…. I think I need to find my own magic… Even if it leads me away…”

Hangman’s brow furrowed as he asked her,” Are you… You’re not leavin’, are you?”

“I… I don’t know… I wish I did…” Emery used her other hand to dry the remaining tears from her face, taking a deep breath as she made to get off the crate. Hangman stepped back to give her space, bracing her landing so she wouldn’t stumble. His hands came to rest on her hips, and he looked down at her with his baby-blue eyes.

She saw the sadness in them and had to look away before she started crying again. Drawing him in for a hug, Emery took a deep breath and smiled fondly. He still smelled like her Cowboy, even after all these years.

“Never, ever change, Adam,” she whispered, feeling a tear trickle down her face as she gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly in her hands. His hold on her tightened slightly- not enough to hurt, though. “Thank you… for listening.”

“Anytime, darlin’. Anytime,” Hangman replied in a whisper, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep his own tears at bay. He wouldn’t cry—not here, not in front of Emery. He had to be strong for her. After a few minutes, they pulled apart, and Emery wiped the tears away again. Giving him a small grimace, the words died in her throat. Hangman knew what she wanted to say, however, and gave her a small nod.

With no further words, Emery turned away from him and walked down the long hall, leaving Hangman standing there on his own. He watched her disappear around a corner before his eyes fell to the floor. To him… All Elite Wrestling suddenly felt cold and very lonely.

Later that night, Emery walked the stone pathway towards the front door of the house before her. The entire day, she had thought and thought more about what to do—and only one thing kept coming to mind. Taking a deep breath, Emery knocked on the heavy wooden door and waited.

Was she doing the right thing? What would—

The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, and she stared at the man in front of her with uncertain eyes.

“Hey… I…. I just….” Emery didn’t even know what to say, which was odd. Wordlessly the guy stretched his arm towards her and opened his hand, inviting her to take hold of it.

“I—”

“Shhh…” he whispered, “Come inside, Princess.”

She barely hesitated, before reaching out and gently placing her hand in his waiting one. Looking from their hands to his eyes, Emery gave him a soft smile and followed him inside.

She was home.

--- Three Months Later ---

Tonight, was a big night for All Elite Wrestling. It was their second-year hosting Forbidden Door and this year seemed bigger than last. In the past several weeks, Kenny and Hangman seemed to put the past behind them and had rekindled their friendship. All it took was Blackpool Combat Club trying to take them both out—which is when they realized, without the Bucks around, they needed each other. However, no sooner had they finally put the Blackpool problem behind them had a new, yet familiar, foe waltzed in.

Jay had warned Kenny that this was going to be his show and he had zero issues with making that come to fruition. Jay and Juice had hit the Cowboy and Kenny hard, not caring if they had just finished with a grueling match with BCC.

Weeks of constant back and forth between them, physical and verbal, had led to this night. A challenge of the Old Club vs New Club, as Kenny told Jay to find two partners—any partners—and face him and Cowboy, with two additional partners, at Forbidden Door.

Jay, with a knowing smirk, agreed without a second thought. He wasn’t dumb, he knew Kenny would immediately go to the Bucks. That was okay, though, because Jay already had his finger on the contact and was calling for backup the second he walked through the curtain. This would be his show and without a doubt in his mind, Jay knew Bullet Club would beat the Elite.

The Elite were at full strength once more, with Matt back from his injury, and it couldn’t have happened at a better time. Together, the four friends—plus Brandon and Nakazawa—stood backstage, stretching, and getting ready for their match.

“Hey, uh—has anyone talked to Emery lately?” Brandon asked as he filmed for BTE. Everyone looked at him for a moment before they thought more about it.

“It’s been a few weeks, now that I think about it,” Nick frowned, turning his attention to Kenny, “You talk to her almost every day, how’s she doing?”

Kenny stopped stretching and thought back, before realization hit him square in the gut.

“I… I actually haven’t…” Kenny pondered, wondering when he had talked to her last.

“What do you mean? You guys talk all the time,” Matt laughed. Hangman dropped his gaze to the floor, sadness flowing through his veins as he realized that none of them had talked to Emery since she left. He had tried calling her, but after the first week, she stopped responding. He then had opted to text her, message her on snapchat, anything. Luck would have it though, she responded—not often, but it was enough for him.

Brandon seemed to notice a tension growing in his friends, and respectfully stopped filming as Kenny spoke up.

“Last time I saw her… it’s been months, back at the beginning of you being out,” Kenny said, looking at Matt as he stretched on the floor, before his eyes fell to the tile below,” I hadn’t even realized…”

“You’ve talked to her though, right?” Nick asked, confusion evident on his face. He and Matt had been there when Emery and Kenny met—they had seen them grow close over the years. The brothers had noticed when the friendship seemed to change, at least for Emery, though she never brought it up.

“Haven’t you?” Matt asked, standing up from the floor as he looked at Kenny.

A silent minute passed, before Kenny finally looked up, regret evident in his blue eyes,” No… It’s been…. I don’t think I’ve spoken to her since the beginning of April sometime…”

“Kenny—that’s three months dude,” Nick frowned.

“I-I know… I don’t… I don’t know what happened. Time just… got away from me, I guess…”

“It happens,” Nakazawa shrugged,” I’m sure she’s fine.”

“I haven’t even seen her lately,” Brandon remarked.

“Tony said she had asked for some time off,” Matt explained,” But you would think she’d be back already.”

“Let’s give her a group call after the match,” Nick suggested, “Video call her, even.”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded in agreement, before noticing Hangman had been silent,” Hey, Adam, you know anything about what’s going on with Emery?”

Hangman’s head popped up, his blue eyes wide, as his friends looked at him. He had two choices—tell them the truth, or lie to them and keep their conversation to himself. They had finally all mended the fences though, could he risk lying to them?

“Y-yeah, actually,” Hangman admitted, clearing his throat. Kenny straightened up a bit, taking a few steps closer to the Cowboy.

“I came across her in the hallway one night, she seemed a bit down,” Hangman explained, unable to meet any of their gazes as his eyes darted around at the environment surrounding them,” She told me… she’d been feeling, uh… forgotten? Like… like she wasn’t important anymore…”

“That’s nonsense,” Nick scowled, “Sure Matt and I were out—but she had Kenny!”

As he listened to his friends’ words, Kenny began to feel more regret swirl in his chest as he remembered all the invitations to hang out that never got to happen.

“She didn’t feel that way,” Hangman said, still not able to meet their gaze; Matt and Nick looked over at Kenny in confusion and noticed the emotion crossing his features.

“She… she never said anything…” Kenny frowned, hating that he hadn’t even realized what was happening right in front of him.

“She tried,” Hangman bristled, a bit angry at Kenny’s blindness; he finally looked Kenny directly in the eyes,” For weeks on end, she tried. You were always ‘busy’. Hell she even asked you to call her after the show one night and you never did!”

The air in Kenny’s lungs disappeared, as he remembered that exact moment.

“No, I know, Kenny. You’re busy, I get it,” Emery told him,” Just… promise me you’ll call me after the show is over? I-I really need to talk to you. Please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kenny nodded, “I’ll call.”

It sickened him to realize he never did call her; he didn’t even text her.

Matt and Nick were about to get on Kenny’s case, before they saw the evident regret, his eyes glistening over a bit, as he slowly sat down on a nearby chair. It was quiet between them for a few minutes, not even Brandon or Nakazawa knew what to say.

“Did she say where she was going? What she was going to do?” Matt asked, worried about their friend.

Hangman shook his head,” She didn’t know yet… just said she couldn’t keep feeling that way… Said she needed to find her own magic…even if it pushed her away…”

Kenny rested his arms on his knees, his face staring at the floor between his feet, trying to keep his composure and emotions in check. He wanted to be able to focus on the match—he needed to—but Emery… his sweet Angel… Had he unknowingly pushed her away?

Quiet stretched across them, a feeling as though they had lost their friend was thick in the air. Don walked up, a huge smile on his face until he noticed the tension.

“Come on guys! You got a big match coming up soon—we need to see some—”

“Shut it,” Nick frowned, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Just leave us be, Callis,” Hangman glared.

“Look, whatever it is, it’s not important. This match—”

“Don,” Kenny called out, lifting his head to stare at the manager. All of them would probably agree that Emery was more important to them than this match, so for Callis to say otherwise—even if he didn’t know the situation—it angered all of them.

“Just… give us some time,” Kenny said to him, his voice low. He sounded tired, like he hadn’t gotten any sleep—but the whole situation had just taken a lot out of him. Don raised his hands in mock surrender, his eyes darting around the group, before turning and walking away. Kenny’s eyes fell back to the floor, before addressing his friends.

“Let’s…. let’s try focusing on our match, get back in our mindsets,” Kenny told them, slowly standing up,” As soon as the match is over, we’ll call her. She’s my… our… Angel, and we… I… don’t want to lose her.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, eventually going back to their stretches.

One of the most anticipated matches of the night finally came up. The Elite had reunited and the crowd was going crazy over it. When Jay’s music hit, he and Juice walked out onto the ramp, pausing at the top as Justin Roberts announced them.

“And their partners…” Justin trailed off, waiting for the music to hit. Soon enough, the well-known rumble started, as 'headbanger’ blared out across the arena.

“…. Taiji Ishimori and Elllll Phantasssssmo!”

As his stablemates (and let’s face it, best friend) joined him at the top of the ramp, Jay smirked in Kenny’s direction. If possible, the crowd seemed to be louder than before, excited at seeing Bullet Club live and in AEW.

The match began and as to be expected, it was show stopping. Back and forth between everyone, flawless executions of teamwork and several moves got reversed due to knowledge they all had of each other. The Elite seemed to be feeding off the energy from the crowd, and eventually seemed to have the upper hand. Kenny, Matt and Nick stood in the center of the ring, El Phantasmo on his knees between them. Each held one of his hands, Matt and Kenny sharing the same hand, as they pointed towards the sky.

“V--!” They yelled out, but before they could continue, the lights across the arena flickered before going pitch black for a few seconds. When the lights came back on, The Elite looked around, before Nick noticed the figure at the top of the ramp. El Phantasmo lay on the edge of the apron, seemingly forgotten about for the moment, as Nick pointed out the figure to the rest of the Elite. Even Brandon turned and looked up at the top of the ramp, using his camera to zoom in as best he could. The four friends looked up at the mysterious figure, trying to figure out who it was—missing the quiet tag Jay made on El Phantasmo.

Was it Blackpool Combat Club fucking with them again?

Was it perhaps House of Black?

Or was it someone new?

The figure stood at the top of the ramp, not moving. Their entire body was covered, head to toe, in black clothing. A black hoodie, black cargo pants, black tennis shoes. The face was obstructed by an intricate venetian mask, half plain ivory with some decorative swirls, the other half a plaid purple, silver, and black joker theme. Their hands were shoved into the front pocket of the hoodie, hair pulled back underneath the hoodie. The only feature that could be seen were the eyes; and as the camera panned close to the figure, you could see the two-tone eyes. One brown. One red.

The Elite whispered among themselves, gesturing towards the figure, trying to figure out what the deal was, before seeing movement out of the corners of their eyes. It was too late though, as the Bullet Club jumped them, getting the upper hand. Juice took out Hangman with a fierce clothesline as a recovered El Phantasmo and Ishimori locked up with Matt and Nick. Kenny and Jay squared off in the ring, as they had many times before. Only one thing was different this time—and upon realizing it, Kenny seemed to lose his focus.

Emery wasn’t ringside, cheering him on.

Jay noticed the change in Kenny, and with a wicked grin, took full advantage and pulled a Blade Runner out of nowhere, making a quick cover. Matt made to run into the ring, but El Phantasmo grabbed his leg and held tightly, as the ref counted-

“1.”

“2.”

“3!”

The bell rang out, signaling the end of the match, as Jay propped himself up off Kenny. His hands resting on his knees, he smirked down at the Canadian who seemed utterly lost for a second. Jay noticed Matt free himself of El Phantasmo, so he quickly rolled out of the ring and joined his stable on the outside as Nick and Hangman slowly climbed into the ring and surrounded their friend. Kenny was sitting up, a knee bent as he shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. With Jay’s Switchblade theme song ringing out through the arena, Bullet Club made their way up the ring, before coming to a stop at the top. The boys kept to Jay’s side, steering clear of the unknown individual, as Jay stared a hole into person. Looking over his shoulder, Jay saw the Elite still crouched in the middle of the ring, and he slowly turned to face them once more. Kenny glanced up towards them and noticed a smug smirk cross Jay’s face. One by one, the Elite turned their attention in Jay’s direction, and only when they all four were looking did Jay look to the masked individual and sweep his arm out towards the crowd as if telling the individual to do something.

Slowly, they took their hands from the pocket of the hoodie and raised their hands towards the mask. Delicately placing their hands on the mask, they tapped their dark-blue nails against the mask a few times, toying with everyone. As if moving in slow motion, they began to raise the mask up, uncovering their chin, lips and nose. Then in one fell swoop, they pulled the mask off and the entire audience gasped out in shock. The Elite couldn’t believe their eyes either. Jay watched in glee at the shock and hurt that crossed the Elite’s faces, especially Kenny’s.

“Oh my God! Excalibur, that’s Emery!” JR shouted into his headset.

“That’s not the Emery we all know and love though, JR—It looks to me like she’s reverted back to her Bullet Club days. Or a version of it—I don’t recall her having the red eye before.”

Emery stood there, her bright blue, shoulder length hair framing her face, as her two-tone eyes narrowed, an amused, dark laugh escaping her lips. El Phantasmo was losing his mind, hyping up the situation, as Juice and Ishimori stood there with smirks on their faces. Jay reached a hand over to her and Emery instantly slid her hand into his. He pulled her over, close to his body and draped an arm across her shoulders. Jay threw up a too-sweet, quickly followed by El Phantasmo, Juice, Ishimori, and lastly Emery.

“Ladies and gentleman, if you’re not familiar with Bullet Club history, what you’re seeing is the Dark Angel of the Bullet Club,” JR explained.

“I remember watching some clips a while back, JR,” Excalibur said, as Bullet Club turned and walked behind the curtain,” Dark Angel Emery is so much different from the Emery we’ve all come to love and adore here at AEW. She was cold, sadistic, and rebellious with no cares in the world.”

“I’m worried at the future of AEW with Bullet Club seeming to reform right under our noses,” JR told Excalibur.

“Indeed JR, something tells me that life is about to get even more chaotic.”

Inside the ring, it was a dark, depressed feeling sweeping amongst the Elite. Ever since she had joined the Bullet Club in their NJPW days, Emery had been in their corner. In Kenny’s corner. Now, however, it seemed to them like she had turned against them and aligned herself with Jay White.

Kenny had his arm resting on top of his propped up knee, his head laying in the crook of his elbow looking down at the ring. He was still in shock, in disbelief; aside from the match, it seemed like he had gotten the air knocked out of his lungs. There was no way Emery had aligned herself with him.

Had he really pushed her that far?

Did he just lose his Angel?