#joey death cw

[halfusek]

Abomination [Part 69] [Epilogue] (6/11)

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The End Is Never The End Is Never The End Is Never The End.

[booigi-boi]

I finally redrew it ☄️

[bang-bang-gang]

maki death kill carving open bussy at GCW joey janela's spring break 7 (source: ringsideguy on twitter, also this tweet)

[carry-on-my-wayward-gays]

"I'm sorry, Lauren."

He wasn't. Of course he fucking wasn't. Why would he be? He was about to win so why would he be sorry.

Still, Lauren fumbled for words. Fireballs shot at her, blinding her and burning her. Her skin boiled and her hair and clothes burned. The smell of toasted peanut butter permeated the air atop the tower.

Lauren screamed as she stumbled back, desperately trying to put herself out. She trips over her own feet, swatting at the fire on her arms, and before she knows it there's no more ground under her. She's falling.

Joey shot her off the tower. Her friend. He betrayed her without a second thought.

A scream ripped from Lauren's throat as she fell. She reached out in a last ditch effort for the edge of the building, just missing anything she could grip. Her fingers scraped against the brick, tearing off her nails and scraping off skin.

It hurt like Hell. Her whole body hurt so much and there was nothing she could do. Air rushed past her ears, deafening her and her screams as she fell. She felt sobs burst from her chest, tear droplets mixing with the wind above her. Her skin was blistered and red and her clothes singed beyond repair.

Lauren cursed Joey. She cursed his name and everything he stood for. She damned his parents and the universe above for conceiving such a monster. And she swore she'd get her revenge. One day she'd get stronger, and she'd show him! She's show them all-

Crack.

All the air was knocked from Lauren's lungs as she reached the wooden walkway beneath tower. She feels a splitting headache spread through her skull and hears wood splintering from the impact.

She doesn't hurt anymore. And everything goes dark.

[changingplumbob]

New Goth: Chapter 4, Part 4

Harvestfest wraps up

CW: Mentions of death Content Warning Guide

Savannah is the twin in pink with hair clips Mercedes is the twin in blue without hair clips

Full family photo! Then Milton decides that while everyone is here he may as well show them the puppet show he’s been working on.

Rahul: What is it called

Milton: School

Cassandra: I think I’ll have to watch from a seat if that’s okay

Savannah: Mama has a baby inside so she needs to be careful

Mercedes nods halfheartedly while Milton slips on the puppets and begins his tale.

The show isn’t all that bad. Of course at creativity level 3 it isn’t all that good either… There are a few funny jokes in it that make the Chopra’s laugh though, Rahul is the best audience a kid could want. Alexander and James are using the time that Milton is being watched to work out in the home gym. They’ve already seen many versions of this puppet play from Milton. Hamlet hangs around for a while hoping for a pat but the viewers seem engrossed.

In the end Milton receives a round of applause from the family.

Savannah: We should have a puppet theatre

Mercedes: Why

Savannah: We could do stories together

Mercedes: But we can do that with dolls. Why change

Rahul: You’re not a big fan of change are you Mercedes

Mercedes: No papa. But I would like a treehouse

Rahul: *laughs* Come on you two, we should find Uncle Alexander and Uncle James and thank them before we leave

Savannah: Why

Rahul: Good manners that’s why. Now come along

Savannah: I’d like an older cousin

Mercedes: I don’t want one to boss us around like Milton does

Milton: I heard that

Rahul: Girls, I said now!

Twins: *quickly standing* Yes papa

As they leave the library Milton sighs and turns to Viola.

Milton: Did you have a good time Viola

Viola: Ye ye, gooey. Ug?

Milton hugs the toddler who is happy with the attention. Alexander and Cassandra walk in talking and the youngest Chopra is scooped up.

Cassandra: We better be getting back to Henford

Alexander: Before storytime? I need practice

Cassandra: I doubt a teen would like you reading to them but what do I know. I think my ones are getting tired, and I may need a nap myself

Alexander: Take care of yourself sis

Cassandra: I will, and if I don’t Rahul does

The rest of the day passes quickly. Alexander has joined the critic career with his eye on being a food critic, finding it a great way to combine his literature degree with his cuisine hobby. James takes care of chores around the house since he is a neat sim after all. Alexander practices his research and debate until he hits level 4, coincidentally enough the level he needs for promotion. James meanwhile spends some time playing games online with Joey, Keira and Marta.

Milton looks at this toys again before bed. He’s glad Alexander got them for him, he’d missed them. Who knows if Bella’s journals would provide any answers as to where she was, but he wanted to keep trying. He only had one mummy, and he missed her every day. Of course in the middle of the night he woke up from a bad dream and realised the way to protect himself was clear, bear suit! Before we knew it Monday was here and Hamlet was waking everyone up accordingly.

James decided to spend the day doing something he loved, fishing! He invited the club around to check out the stream that ran along the edge of the property. It had begun to snow but with no ice the fish should be biting. I had hoped they would all deposit themselves along the stream but nope. Bob decided his time was better spent upstairs watching the culinary channel. Reece caught something! It wasn’t a fish but hopefully his skill has gone up a little.

After school...

James: How was school today

Milton: Good and bad. Can you help me with my project please Uncle James? It's meant to be a volcano

James: Sure, as an ex-teacher I know my way around a fake volcano. Now tell me about school. Why was it good and bad?

Milton: I gave the note from Alexander to my teacher about my costume and she was fine with it

James: But?

Milton: *sighs* Reynaldo and Maria hung out with me but everyone else avoided me

Friendly reminder that the twins go to a different school, I promise they were not avoiding him.

James: Don’t worry about "everyone else", focus on your friends. If they still think you’re awesome enough to hang around with no matter what you want to wear, they’re good ones

Milton: I guess. It’s just hard. People treat me different even before I was in this

James: Milton... your father died and we don't know what happened to Bella. Many of the kids in your class won’t be able to think about what that means, and won’t know what to say about it. Sometimes if people don’t know what to say they’ll say nothing

Milton: I don’t miss father so much now. But I need to know what happened to mummy

James: If you need any help going through those journals I’d be happy to help

Milton: I know but… I want to do it by myself. It helps me feel close to mummy. There, is the volcano done?

James: Almost. Now you have to present it

Milton: Present it?

James: Practice for class. I’ll be a good audience and you'll be prepared for your classmates

Joey decided to swing around for dinner to catch up with everyone. It’s leftover ham from the holiday so everyone ends up feeling a bit dazed. Alexander has to go write another column for work afterwards so James, Milton and Joey put in some gaming time. I’m not sure how Milton does in the bear suit but he’s not sad so we’ll stick with it.

Previous ... Next

[jzbnee]

Headcanons for my Dullahan!Jason/Werewolf!Rose au

hehe i have a fic done for this but i'm getting it beta read and maybe making some revisions but <333

no cws here but the fic itself does have casual joeyrose wilsoncest bc that's who i am

will rb with tags bc i don't want to actually put this in the tags 💀

Dullahan Jason

came back almost the same way as canon, but something was off

after the whole blowing up thing with the batarang, the wound kept getting bigger and smoking & then eventually his head fell off

spent some time freaking out about this, but now considers it pretty funny

still new at the whole dullahan thing (occassionally overwhelmed by compulsions to chase people down and be an omen)

can be about a city's distance from his head -- if he is separated further, he develops separate consciousnesses for his head & body and can't reconcile without head and body making physical contact

blood is greenish black and turns to smoke upon exposure to the air

mostly undead, so he doesn't need to breathe or eat

Werewolf Rose

had her precognition abilities from Slade (also enhanced + werewolf)

near death experience and/or apprentice arc where slade bites her

can shift to various degrees

does have some wacky wolf biology stuff going on haha

eyes turn gold & wolfy, gets ears and tail, does have claws-- can shift fully into a wolf-wolf if she wants. staying in either fully human or fully wolf form for too long hurts

turns at the full moon obvi

??? Joey

human as far as anyone can tell

has his powers but they feel more invasive/present than 'canon' unless he works hard to suppress them

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 12

Cw: miscarriage, prophetic nightmares, death, mention of kinks, some sex, angst

To those who playes 2 truths 1 lie, so sorry lol

Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife

Jack’s smoked through tomorrow’s cigarettes trying to make sense of it. Rosie dreamt of doctors performing a lobotomy that apparently killed her, Junior dreamt he’d be shot in the head as he rode in a parade.

Laurie used to have nightmares of dying in mud and rain until he died in a trench in France in 1914. His sister Katie had dreams of coughing and choking on her own blood. Their mother once said their father had cursed blood, and that was why he got killed when he was a boy.

The gangster remembered all those times his enemies cursed his name and now wonders if curses can be passed on to children. He should talk to his wife about this, she knew more about this bullshit anyways.

“Tell me what?” speak of the devil. Wearing her velvet robe and braving the cold just to see what’s bothering him. They should be in bed, his witch trying to keep warm cuddling with him and thinking about the bungalow in Florida and that hammock in the backyard.

“Junior dreamt he died.” He could lie, he’s done it before, but he’d also like to sleep in his own bed instead of the couch tonight. Besides Eva would kill him for not telling her about this new development.

“Well, he did get pretty sick, there were times I thought he wouldn’t survive it.” She admits joining him on the freezing porch. He’s banned from smoking indoors because his witch couldn’t stand the smell when she was pregnant and now the habit stuck.

“Not that, he says he saw himself as an adult waving at a crowd and being shot in the head.” Jack takes one last drag of his cigarette before handing it to his wife. Eva only smokes when shit’s too dire to take on without one or in the wonderful occasions where she came from uninterrupted sex. Too bad it’s the former.

“When I see death happen, it usually doesn’t. You didn’t die that day in your office, the neighbor’s kid didn’t get hit by a car and I have yet to die.” This was more of a reminder than an actual explanation for this. Apparently, she can only predict a real death if it’s coming for people she doesn’t like or knows well.

“You can teach him and Joey how to shoot when they’re old enough if it eases your mind.” But it isn’t a real guarantee that this applied to the kids. She admitted she was scared about losing him that day, held him tightly that night and those after as if he might die.

Fucking hell, he never thought he’d have to deal with this shit when he decided Eva was gonna be his wife that day.

“Do you regret it?” she asks fearing he might. Evie’s mind reading has become so normal to him he’s no longer surprised his witch catches on to his thoughts like that. Makes it easier to unburden himself with her, doesn’t even have to voice it half the time.

“I never have and never will, sweetheart.” Jack is a man with few regrets, he never does anything unless he wants to and when he doesn’t, he sticks with it to the bitter end. Choosing her would never be one of them.

By May Junior’s nightmares are almost forgotten. Everything goes so well it is scaring her.

They have a house in New York now, a lovely mansion too big for them with servants catering to their every whim and armed men loyal to them. Jack’s success had merited such a move and after Junior’s nightmare, he was loath to leave them behind now.

Luca Changretta was gearing for a war overseas while Jack laid out the framework for their takeover from right under his nose. Even his Family were considering killing him to prevent the White Hand from taking their place.

They were making strides in society, all the must have invites, rubbing elbows with the right people and teaching people not to fuck with them. They’ve just returned from Calvin Coolidge’s inauguration after rubbing it in their competitor’s face.

John D. Hertz had been the unlikely bastard to learn that last year. He wanted protection from the Checker Taxis and his other enemies and would’ve gotten it if his words about her hadn’t pissed off Jack. Something that had caused an attack on the company stocks with the help of their connections.

Now it was the turn of the men who owned the rights to a western movie Eva foresaw making it big.

It had started with a movie house that refused to let Eva into their establishment on their first few dates as man and wife, then the entire chain out of spite and now Jack was aiming for Hollywood after securing New England and most of the East Coast.

She hasn’t rewarded him for this achievement yet, and because nothing else has managed to get her to shake off the unsettling images, Eva decides to wake him early on his day off. He won’t mind, loves it when she makes use of his morning wood for their mutual pleasure.

Would erase the nightmare from her mind along with her refusal to have another baby so soon after Kitty. He loves breeding her, loves seeing her fat and needy and loves its when her tits are full of milk.

He's a dirty bastard, anything and everything will find its way into the blessed times they can have fantastic uninterrupted sex. The new house lets them do that more often. Sometimes they’ll lock themselves in that room far away from the family wing made just for their sexual escapades and go at it like unhinged demons.

“Nightmares again?” As expected, Jack is very amenable to a good fuck before breakfast. Their three older children were at school and Kitty was sleeping like an angel, gave her the perfect opportunity to forget what haunted her dreams.

“I want to forget them.” She admits it in between kisses knowing he won’t say no. “Help me forget them, Jack.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

It is to no one’s surprise that Eva finds herself pregnant by Father’s Day. She is not happy about it, there is a terribly bad feeling about this pregnancy. Eva blames it on her vanity and loss of figure, not wanting to burden him with what she saw in her reading that day.

She won’t tell him the cards say they won’t be born.

Not all pregnancies agree with her.

Though not as bad as Rosie’s, this one is one of the bad ones. The doctor hasn’t put her on bedrest ---even if he did, she’d ignore it--- but you could tell something wasn’t right by the way she carried herself.

There’s something she’s not telling him, something his witch believes he can’t tell from looking at her. Been married for six years on the dot, Jack wagers he knows her better than anyone now.

“What’s wrong, Evie?” he asks, cornering her in her powder room as she got ready for their anniversary dinner tonight.

“Fucking department store didn’t have my color again.” She grumbles after applying lipstick a shade brighter than she likes. Evie likes to make herself up like a vamp, with dark burgundy lips and darker eyes to sell the whole mystical beauty look she has.

“Eva.” He warns against her lying and gets to the point. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Something about the girls we’re having.”

“Nothing’s wrong, just pregnancy fucking me up. Now hurry up, we’ll be late for the reservations.” Half true.

She’s weepy and tired all the time. Her sex drive going from wanting to kick him off the bed if he breathes in her direction to seeking him out in his office as if he hadn’t fucked her before he left. Still got five months to go, a lot could happen between here and January.

The nursery is half decorated, she’d put off ordering a crib for the twins and acted as if she were tempting fate this time around.

“I tell you everything, Eva, why won’t you do the same?” he asks her as they head downstairs, she turns to give him a look for guilt tripping her about it and in the next second she missteps and falls the rest of the way down.

Jack’s too beside himself to leave her side. The fall hadn’t been too severe, no bones were broken, no lasting head injury nor internal bleeding. The babies hadn’t made it as she fell on her stomach enough times to kill the poor things.

She hadn’t been told yet, the doctors had suggested he be the one to break the news to her after seeing Eva’s medical history. Jack has no idea how he’s going to confirm that her heavy bleeding is because they lost their unborn daughters.

Two tiny little things that barely looked human inside the doctor’s receptacle. Rosie had dolls that small, he thinks as he looks away from the babies they hadn’t even considered names for yet.

“I didn’t see them in the cards, they were never going to be born.” His wife finally tells him what she was hiding for four months. Just because the cards said nine babies didn’t mean all of them would live, she explains, and he listened to what she had resigned herself to as they mourn their dead babies.

His triumph over the Black Hand on January 1926 finds him smoking in the veranda after Eva tells him she wants to try again because the cards say they’ll have a baby boy next year.

[highwaywhump]

Would you be up for writing a little piece about kill shelters, from the pet’s POV? I saw that you said you wouldn’t write about pets actually being PTS - completely understandable! - what if someone were to come in at the last second with the news that the pet’s original owner had been found? I’m so curious on what the process would be for the shelter handling this- since it would technically be murder, how would it be done in a way to remain ‘legal’? And what would the pet be told? Would they tell them what was going to happen, or just ‘get on with it’? :o

TW/CW: A CHARACTER THAT IDEALIZES DEATH/HAS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. to be clear, he doesn't die, but another character does (this comes through very vaguely - never voiced outright). brief and vague mention of a gun, talk of scars, low self image, talk of collars and chains and cages/kennels, description of a hit and run victim (still alive), brief description of a dislocated hip, talk of restraints, talk of syringes and needles.

i know our community has suffered these past few days, and i was seriously debating whether i should post this piece or not. in the end, i figure that writing has been my way of overcoming difficult feelings for many years now, and i have been dealing with a lot of them lately, including intense stress and depression. if anyone feels i am doing something wrong in posting this piece, please let me know and i'll see what i'll do about it.

i am also painfully aware this ask was sent over a month ago (in reference to this ask), but i had to sit down and think about how i wanted to go about it. BE AWARE that the following piece features a character that idealizes/wishes for death - please sit this one out if you are struggling with such thoughts. i'm putting everything under a read more so that you can avoid reading a single word if you don't feel comfortable. my dm’s are always open if you want to talk about anything. <3

this character might seem familiar to some. spoiler, this is how poker from this piece ended up. he was about 35 when joey met him and he’s a few years older in this piece. and i'm sorry but there’s just something about men in cages… (also, let’s ignore that i add a bunch of details here that weren’t present in the first piece with him. also also, i don’t know what happened to the verb tenses in this one. it’s the middle of the night. roll with the punches i guess)

-

It might’ve been months since the guard dog saw his owner last. He doesn’t know. He’s stopped counting. 

Well. 

He never really started. 

He doesn’t remember much about him. He’d lost another fight, the last one in a long row of losses. He’d been pulled into the back of a car by his thick collar afterwards, dazed and hot and sputtering blood all over the leather seats. They’d hit him in the ribs for it and he knew he’d deserved it. 

Whoever was driving had been given orders in his owner’s rough voice. 

“Go down to the docks. Get rid of him.” 

He knew there was a lethal piece of metal stuck down the waistband of the driver’s jeans. 

He’d been taken a few hours outside the city instead, deposited on the wet asphalt outside of a brick building and chained to a drainpipe. The driver had gotten back in the car and sped off. 

The guard dog had leaned against the hard brick, watching as the brake lights disappeared. He didn’t think much, other than okay. As if he had anything else to say about his situation. 

His surroundings turned into a shapeless blur from there. Hands touching him, cold and unfeeling and clad in blue rubber. A couple were soft and took their time to stroke his hair, scratch the hard to reach place between his shoulder blades. He savored those moments, and tried to remember the hands and the face they belonged to, but none of it lasted. 

Nothing ever lasted around him, it seemed. He couldn’t keep an owner for more than a few months, never more than a year. Couldn’t keep winning. Couldn’t keep anyone safe, even though that was the thing he was made for. The only thing that kept, were the scars. 

And the fucking tattoo on his wrist. Not even the facility that had made him, wanted him back when the shelter called them about him. Too old. They had no prospects who would want someone like him. 

That was what the visitors said too, few and far between as they were. Too old. Too big, too many scars, too scary, too ugly, too old, too dumb, too old again. They talked about him as if he wasn’t even there, huddled up in a corner just on the other side of the chain link. 

He knew it was his fault. He should be, or at least seem, happier to see them. Smile. Wait at the kennel gate, like all the others did whenever somebody stopped by. 

But to what end? Another owner who would put him in the ring again, just to be angry at him when he loses? Or someone he can take bullets for again, even though he isn’t quick and bright enough to anticipate them anymore? 

He doesn’t dare hope that anyone else would want him, not in his condition. It’s true, what they say. He’s old. Scarred, slow. There are sunshine stories of even the most unwanted of pets, expenses in every way, who somehow end up on the couches of kind people who just want a companion, their head resting in their laps, petted by soft fingers.

Those people get platonics, though. Domestics. Even the occasional romantic can adapt to such a lifestyle. 

But not an old ex guard dog, like him. 

He’s no use to anyone, not anymore. 

They remove him from the kennel one day. For a moment, his heart beats a little faster. He can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement, but it turns out neither is warranted. He’s taken to another room, a chain attached to his collar, the other end pin shackled to a ring in the wall. Another pet, younger and prettier, is put in his kennel. He can see them through the frosted glass on the door. 

He turns away. 

He doesn’t cry. 

Visitors don’t come through this room, he realizes, and for the first few days he’s happy for it. Nobody talks about him now. It’s quiet and the cold linoleum floor is almost comfortable on his joints. The only bad thing about this room is the other pet, chained to the wall opposite of him. The man is curled up, breathing shallowly through dried blood in his nostrils, and the sound is annoying. He’s younger than him, and he was probably very pretty once, but now his face is bruised and swollen, and bloody in the crevices even though they washed him with a damp cloth when he came in. Hit and run, somebody had said in passing.

That was four days ago. The guard dog watches him, mostly because there isn’t much else to look at in here. His leg is in a weird position, he’s noticed. It’s as if the thigh has rotated where it attaches to the hip. He wonders if it’s supposed to be that way. It doesn’t look very comfortable. His stomach is weirdly distended, too. It looks out of place on a body that is otherwise slim and smooth. 

Two workers descend on him one day, kneeling down beside the misshapen figure. They talk to him, sweetly, as they gently lift him over on a gurney and start wheeling him through another door. “You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up,” one of the workers say, a vinyl clad hand patting his shoulder. The one part of him that isn’t broken. 

The guard dog catches the faint smile visible through a swollen cheek as they pass him. The other pet is happy they’re coming for him, making him feel better. Finally. 

Maybe twenty minutes have passed when the workers come back. One of them wipes their hands on their worn jeans. “Glad that’s over,” he mutters. "Should have been done when he came in," the other says. The guard dog meets his gaze as they pass. Neither of them say anything. 

They’d come for him a few days later. They wear the same smiles and the same gloves as they did with the other pet, but he doesn’t need the sweet talking. He goes with them willingly. He’d stopped eating a while back and his muscle tone had disappeared a long time ago, so it was easy for them to help him up to his feet. He’s taller than them, still, and keeps his head down the way he’s always done. 

He’s known cold. Heat, pain, pleasure even, in small stints. Grief, fear. Rage. As he places one bare foot in front of the other on the beige linoleum, obediently following the worker in front, he knows he will soon know death. 

And he isn’t afraid. 

“You won’t feel a thing,” one of them says as they help him sit on the steel table in the next room, as if anyone has ever cared about how he’s feeling. 

“You’ll feel much better after,” the other worker says, without specifying exactly what was supposed to be better, as they gently lay him down. The table has leather straps hanging down the sides, ready to restrain its more unwilling cases, but he doesn’t move and they don’t use the straps. In the corner of his eye he can see two syringes on the counter. One of them is skinny and filled with clear fluid. The needle is small and will slip into him easily. He’s had many needles before. This won’t feel any different, he decides. The other syringe is larger, the needle too big to be used on somebody who was awake feel it. 

It doesn’t matter. He’ll feel better after. The guard dog refocuses his gaze on the bright light overhead. He closes his eyes. 

“Small pinch, now,” one worker says, and he can feel a pinprick at the crook of his elbow, the cold liquid fanning up his arm as it is being pushed in. His heart beats a few more times before the serum reaches it. He can feel his pulse, docile to begin with, calm down even more. He feels sleepy, his body heavy, as if he’s being pushed into the table from above. The hard metal digging into his joints doesn’t matter anymore. He knows he won’t even notice the other syringe. He knows he’ll feel better soon. 

A grating ringtone interrupts his silent mind. One of the workers picks up, speaking in a low voice. Sleep tugs at the edges of his mind, and he wants to follow. Right before he goes under, the sound of hard plastic hitting metal and a few words make it through the fuzzy walls inside his head. 

“No trouble at all. You’re just in time, sir.” 

--

to answer your other questions, anon: in the legal sense it wouldn't be murder, as the pets aren't people anymore, they're only human at the biological level (again, in a legal sense). it's necessary :) and humane :) euthanasia :). the pets aren't told anything/they're gently reassured and told they're going on for surgery, or something similar. i think "you'll feel better when you wake up," is a classic in these circles. i'm sure some understand what is about to happen (hence the restraints on the table), but the majority goes quick and silent. i have no idea what happens to them after though so don't ask me about that :)

[xx-burn1ng-h0ll0w-xx]

I FINALLY FINNISHED THE STORY AND THE DESIGNS 4 THE BOYS IN THE AU

fhfhfhfh this took so longgg,,, and i really hope this gets enough attention,,, I spent like a week on all of this so pleaseplease read everything,,, and forgive me for my bad storytelling,, I'm not a good writer-

The Lore for the Au

Now everything may sorta seem the same, but alot of the characters have went through a lot of gruesome things. Audrey, even though it seemed like she had a happy ending, it wasn't how it actually happened. She went completely insane after going into the loop, and barely surviving.

The book that Audrey had however, that carried the loop and everybody inside of it, ended up collecting dust, and rewrote itself entirely. Making the loop no more, and the world finally rebuilt itself entirely, and The Ink Demon made sure of it. After what he went through, so many times before, he came to a realization that it was pointless to fight, or make people fear him. So he made sure that the studio, and the city was safe for everybody to reside in. But he knew that people would still fear him, no matter what he did to change. So he hid, deep inside the studio, rebuilt his hidden throne, and stayed out of sight, for the rest of his existence.

But, after some time, he was found, by a young boy. Axel. The Ink Demon learned to care for him, and eventually became known as his guardian.

Hhh that took a lot of effort, now time 2 introduce the main boys and their designs, I'll post more characters as soon as i get the ask box officially open,, but until then enjoy what all I have for these guys!!

The Ink Demon

The main man himself, now in this au he's very similar to the cannon games. Except he's just a cranky dad and has to babysit Axel 24/7. He can still change into Bendy and Beast Bendy, but it's not all the time he'll do it. The Ink Demon prefers to go by his title, and he'll only allow Sammy and Axel to call him by the nicknames he has for them. (Lord, father, yknow the basic father-son and weird uncle thing)

The Ink Demon may be a cranky old bitch, but he cares for Axel and Sammy, even though he may not seem like it. Him and Axel have a very good father and son bond, and they care about eachothers well being. Sammy is annoying as hell to him, but he's basically the only person that doesn't run away screaming at him.

He's still very powerful here, he can phase through walls, talk telepathically to some people, but he can actually speak in the au too. The Ink Demon's bottom jaw can open up into two, and his teeth can also spike into sharp fangs.

And as you have already noticed, his left eye is a little infected, he's not so sure what it is, but he refuses to actually do anything about it, other than just not wiping the dripping ink out of it (which also makes the infection WORSE,, but he doesn't give a fuck lmao)

Sammy Lawrence

Time for everybody's second favorite, the crazy ink prophet, Sa m m y. (Cw for mentions of death and some crazy shit)

Now Sammy is also about the same in this au, still a crazy psychotic muscle man. But now that Axel showed up, he's kinda like the weird uncle that everybody has to deal with.

Sammy also suffers from psychosis, and he's very delusional (same) he constantly forgets things, and he's lost alot of his memory. And he's been like this for awhile, even before the pocket dimension of the studio went kinda bonkers. And Joey used this to his advantage with Sammy. Literally posing as Bendy, and making him do his bidding.

As time went on, Sammy went crazy, and made an entire cult in the studio. Practically making sacrifices and killing most of the people working with him, before he eventually killed himself and ended up in the loop with everybody else.

Sammy did eventually find The Ink Demon and Axel. And thinks he's like some sort of priest there???? But he's calmed down, a little-

Axel

Now time 4 my boy, or well my self insert lol

Before he ended up in the loop, Axel lived in a very troubled household. Though he had a very nice house and was able to get around the town he lived in, he delt with a very abusive father. He had to go through alot of very messed up stuff from him, and it ended up just completely ruining him.

After getting completely fed up with what he went through, he ran off, and completely changed his identity (kinda why he's trans now lol) But after realizing he had nowhere else to go, he went out to look for a job, and found Joey Drew Studios. He was hired almost instantly after showing off his art abilities and got straight to work.

Some time passed and he ended up in a very risky situation with Sammy. He struggled to keep himself from getting hurt, but Sanmy completely chopped off his leg, and then, you guessed it, he died. But surprisingly he ended up at the loop with the ink demon.

It took some time for The Ink Demon to warm up and a lot of attempts to prove Axel wasn't another person to fear him, but eventually The Ink Demon learned to sorta trust Axel.

GRHRHRH THATS FINALLY OVER WITHHH WHOOO!!!!! FJDJDJ I REALLY HOPE U GUYS SORTA LIKE IT,,, I TRIED MY BEST ON EVERYTHING,, I DONT WANT IT TOO SEEM UNORIGINAL BC THIS IS A BIG PERSONAL PROJECT OF MINE THAT I HAD FOR A LONG ASS TIME,,, ANYWAYS ILL SEE U GUYS LATERRRR,,, THANKS 4 BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!!!

[halfusek]

i was reading the end part of abomination and was wondering three things ,1-what is the meaning of Joey changing from his real world self to his story world self ? Since it appears that joey died,does this mean that his real world self and story world self fused ?, 2-how does joey control over the story world works ? is he aware of what the story version of hackenbush has become or he is independent from joey's actions ?3 What would happen if the little devil darling cartoon has played ?

answers to all of these could potentially be "well you're supposed to come up with some interpretation yourself" but i do have things in mind as answers to these questions :)

real joey didn't die (yet), so it's not them fusing - i realize that it might be a bit confusing story joey has been created soulless however as you can see in the ending this happens

i don't mind people coming to the conclusion that story joey has real joey's soul but if you would like to hear me out on what i precisely have in mind for this

[becomes an unskippable cutscene]

so when you look through the seeing tool in batim you can see these floating gold particles

to me it's joey's soul scattered through this entire ink dimension because he is the storyteller of it and influences the way it's been made and how it functions

and that can also include some creatures

creatures that "fully" have their own soul like susie!alice don't have anything to do with him but ones that don't have a full soul of another person? or no soul at all?

the ink demon (squish) and story joey have been created but not with an use of a sacrifice

they are soulless but they are a physical manifestation of joey's soul that really has been used for creating this entire world

however he is "anchored" to his ink counterpart and that's what it stands for

that's why story joey's and bendy's "souls" join together

because in the story that joey is telling ink creatures are made/perfected via sacrifice and via using people's souls in this process - so technically story joey is "supposed" to have a soul

...yeah i know it's a bit complicated but you must understand. i'm very autistic. njknjknkjnkj

2. joey's control over the story mostly boils down to creating situations, events, enforcing themes, introducing new characters and in rare occasions tweaking character's personalities

however all of these abilities have their limits and they don't just rely on his skills as a storyteller because those aren't really that bad, there is also some ink magic fuckery involved :)

for example story joey is NOT written how he would have liked him to be - all characters become a more exaggerated/cartoonish version of themselves - and through the lense of his regret and self hatred he has made out quite an asshole out of himself

like he already was one but he's managed to make him even worse

task failed successfully

3. little devil darling. is. something, alright

it's the first bendy cartoon to exist

and yet... we've never seen any of it. it's not up there with all the other cartoons in bendy's throne room in chapter 5, nor all the other rooms inside of the giant ink machine

however. there are two things

this image is a screenshot of @lucky-dreamfisher 's theory because their eye for details really helped me with some of my own theory/headcanon crafting :)

and i agree with the conclusion they reach here - since this cartoon is missing, the very first bendy cartoon, it means that bendy is prevented from reaching perfection

and preventing joey/bendy from reaching perfection just seemed like a great revenge to come from susie!alice :) additional points for the fact that i associate "who's laughing now?" with alice since this message also appears next to boris' corpse in chapter 1

i'm not saying that story joey would have made a perfect bendy otherwise, but this way the process will never be perfect from the technical side either

but also speaking of little devil darling

there is a poster of it inside of the giant ink machine while there are no other posters

i just thought that's interesting

[sunset-a-story]

Pumpkin Pitch Event: Sunset Volume 1: Sunrise

Cover art by my co-writer @touloserlautrec

A huge thanks to @writeblrgarden for putting this event on! I've been loving seeing all the awesome pitches!

Joey sees the history of everything and everyone he touches as translucent blue ghosts acting out the past all around him. And this includes his own past, which is how Joey knows he wasn't born, he was made. Made and thrown away.

What he does doesn't know is that the people who made him, SolCorp, are actively working to find him and bring him "home." Neither party has any idea how much that will change them both forever.

Sunset is slow-burn serial of building tensions with a queer ensemble cast of people with unique superhuman powers that make their lives harder more than anything. If you love slow-burn romance, slow-burn action, intrigue, and a winding web of storylines, then stick around.

It's told in three arcs (Sunrise, High Noon, and Sunset) through a series of storylines that seem unconnected until they collide and collide with ramping action and conflict.

After over a decade of working on this WIP, Sunset is live now for Patrons and then one week later on Wattpad & AO3. My co-writer is creating "issue covers" for each installment like the one above and I'm super excited about that.

Details Genre: Slow-burn 18+ science-fantasy Format: serial release POV: third person, multiple POV Cast: Queer ensemble cast Stage: - Volume 1: Sunrise = complete. 116k words/250 pages Volume 2: High Noon = in beta. 307k words/683 pages Volume 3: Sunset = drafting. Currently 995 pages

Please comment or DM for taglist +/-

A sneak-peek of the first page of Sunset can be found here but here's another little snippet from the first issue:

Marek leaned over farther. “Have you heard anything?” “Like what?” Marek shrugged. “Has it definitely happened yet?” Louis shook his head, mouth tight. “No, I don’t think so.” “How will we know? I doubt there will be an announcement or something.” Marek couldn’t imagine getting a memo just letting them know Neptune had carried out a death sentence. Louis heaved an annoyed sigh and tilted his head conspiratorially. “We won’t be told formally, he’s an Icarus after all, but it’ll get around.” It was odd to hear a department head referred to as an Icarus, the name Sol gave to its agents who committed crimes against the company. Once you were dubbed Icarus, your name was taken from you, replaced with a number until you’d either been considered redeemed or… well, the former Venus was a prime example of what happened if the transgression was bad enough to warrant erasure. Your name would never be spoken again. “How did he get caught after so long?” he asked. “His Second--” “Enough of that,” Nancy’s voice interrupted. They looked up. The others had settled in and gone quiet. “Sorry, ma’am,” Marek said, switching to formalities in a setting like this. “You know I’m easily distracted.��� Well, he could only be so formal. Nancy scowled. “No one’s fooled by your pretend incompetence.” “Maybe if you didn’t tell everyone...”

Content Warning List

Mind control/telepathy

Violence/gore

Guns/weapons

Death

Substance use/misuse (prescription and recreational)

Off-screen child death

Mention of off-screen child abuse and the concept of CSA (specifically talking about how CSA did not happen)

Mention of monsters

Nudity

Religion

Medical procedures

Patriarchy B.S. and railing against it

Questionable-to-problematic relationship dynamics (eventually)

I would be remiss if I didn't note that these are the warnings for Arc 1 but Sunset is a slow burn and it starts slow so please note that these themes will only intensify. Some CW for future arcs include explicit sexual content, monster violence/gore, homophobia, threat of sexual assault, and confinement.

[kkolg]

Ive noticed you've said there was a situation that's basically like a "the bite of 87" kind of thing that happened in the AU

Is there any info on that? What exactly happened?

cw: blood and dead body :)

Joey’s death was really the whole turning point for Joey Drew Studio’s at the time. I mean, before then they were losing employees left and right, including Griffen who was a key member to them at the time- but also Joey’s main business partner too, yet some how they still were managing to keep a float. Once Joey died however, everything went downhill- fast, once three best friends turned all against each other in the matter of minutes and the company was left abandoned- the building is still there actually. 6 years went by and here we are now…boy have the times changed

[comfy-whumpee]

Deadfall

CW: character death, guns, poisoning, stabbing. Finishing this mini arc!

@bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump​, @ishouldblogmore​, @lektric-whump​, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @suspicious-whumping-egg​, @eatyourdamnpears

Joey’s legs felt like they were made of foam, but somehow, he managed to walk all the way from his car into the warehouse without collapsing, which would have broken the dam and turned him into a blubbering, hyperventilating mess, gun or no gun pointed at his back.

Strange that he’d made the same walk this morning. It felt like another world, distant and hazy. It had been sunny. He’d grabbed a coffee from the café around the corner. That couldn’t have been him, so confident everything was fine, so blasé about betraying the literal fucking mafia.

The man walking behind him reached past him to open the door to the lift. That was a bad fucking sign. Once they were in the metal death trap, he pressed the button for basement. Second bad fucking sign.

As the lift descended, Joey tried not to look at himself in the mirrored wall. He definitely tried to avoid even glimpsing the guy at his back. He couldn’t stop thinking about the gun as it was. He’d never been so close to one, not his department. He’d never really thought about how much damage one could do. Guns were always abstract, an item you picked up in a video game. Not things that got pointed at ribs and hipbones. Things that could go off at literally zero notice.

The lift arrived with a soft thump. The doors opened, and the darkness stretched out beyond, lit only by the occasional light along the corridor.

They walked. Joey had been down here before, getting stock to check. These rooms were meant to be for storage, not interrogations and prisoners.

They arrived at a door that looked the same as all the others. His escort opened it again, and walked him inside a few steps before turning on a harsh overhead bulb. It looked like a meeting room, with a table and metal chairs taking up almost all of the floor space.  Joey sat in the chair that was pulled out for him. He set his hands flat on the table. He waited, with the guard a lurking presence in the room, every second of silence more damning as the last. Joey didn’t even know if the gun was still pointed at him. Maybe they knew it was over and weren’t going to bother. Maybe they would shoot him anyway, just to punish him.

Time passed painstakingly slowly before the door rattled. Mr Dechart had arrived. He shook hands with the guard, but otherwise didn’t speak but for a blunt, “Thank you.” The guard left the room after.

Mr Dechart towered over the table, and it felt like he was watching Joey for every tiny motion. He had to be. Every tiny twitch of breath, every bead of sweat on his forehead, was being catalogued.

Mr Dechart sat in a chair opposite and smiled.

The sight short-circuited in Joey’s brain. Why was he being fucking smiled at? That couldn’t be right. “You alright, Joey?” Mr Dechart said suddenly, a soft edge of humour on his words. “Since our meeting you’ve been looking off colour.”

Joey shook his head mutely, helpless to speak. He was fine. He was normal. He could be so normal, if things could just go back to normal, he could be normal.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Mr Dechart said. “Who did you call?”

His mouth opened. He had no idea what to say, and couldn’t speak.

“Who did you call, and beg for help, after our meeting today?” Mr Dechart leaned forwards. He was still looking all smiley and relaxed. It still didn’t meet his eyes. “Come on, Joey. We saw you blubbering like a dead man. Who did you tattle to?”

Joey’s eyes dropped shut at a lurch of nausea. That was Mr Dechart through and through. Tattle. He was going to die because he’d tattled.

“Do you have a name?”

He couldn’t think. He was dead anyway, wasn’t he? Would it be quicker if he gave in? Or would he be kept around because he was useful? Or would he just get tortured for longer if he tried to keep quiet? Would he be killed once he had said everything he knew? Could he be useful enough to escape with his life? As long as he was alive at the end of it, the rest was fine.

“M-Martin,” he yielded in a word. “His, I only know he’s called Martin.”

“Do you know who he works for?”

“No.” Relief, or terror, that he didn’t know? Joey had no idea. “N-No, I don’t know.”

“How did he get to you?”

He kept his eyes squeezed shut and tried to think. “A, a friend of a friend. Recommended me. Said I knew more than I-I thought I did.”

“Who is the friend of a friend?”

“A-Angela, Angela, uh,” he couldn’t think, “uh, Coulter. I think.”

There was a pause. Joey tried to breathe. It was happening too fast. Should he be lying? Should he be bargaining his life back for this?

“Breathe, Joey,” Mr Dechart said, his voice warm. “This is all I wanted.”

If he kept his eyes closed, he could believe it. He wouldn’t see those eyes. He could sit and pretend it was the boss he knew, the one who said fudge instead of fuck, the one who made puns about ‘duck’ tape…

He had to swallow a hysterical laugh.

“Now, just tell me what you told them. And we’ll be done. You can go home.”

If he kept his eyes closed, he didn’t have to watch for the lie.

“I t-told them, about, that I heard about where you lived. About your, your mansion. People talked about, some of them went to your parties, rumour went around you had four storeys and one was just for your kid.”

Mr Dechart hummed. He didn’t confirm or deny it.

Joey took a breath. His brain was making edits and he couldn’t review them. They were coming right out. “That was, that was all I knew. I knew more about, about work, but they didn’t want it. They kept asking about your kid, but I-I don’t know your kid. I never went to your house.”

“I know, Joey,” Mr Dechart reassured him. “But you told them what you knew about it.”

“Y-Yeah. Just, just the size of it, and that it was out of town, and the thing about it having four storeys, and – maybe, um, something…” He ran out of air. He gasped for a moment. He couldn’t stop talking – if he stopped talking it would be over – he had to keep going – “They asked if your kid went to school. I-I said I didn’t think so. But I didn’t know, so, I couldn’t, I didn’t tell them anything else. I wouldn’t, not your k-kid.”

Mr Dechart soothed him again. “Sure. Of course not. She’s just a kid.”

He seized on the words. “See, I didn’t,” he laughed weakly, “didn’t even know it was a girl…”

“But if you had known...”

Joey opened his eyes almost by accident.

Mr Dechart’s stare was freezing cold. His voice came out perfectly warm, as if it was dubbed over, unreal. “If you had known, Joey, would you have told them?”

His chest bucked with a failure of a breath. They both knew the answer.

“That’s a shame,” Mr Dechart said, and rose from his chair. “That’s a darn shame, Joey.”

Someone opened the door behind him. He twisted around, suddenly remembering he could move, and pulled out of the chair entirely as someone he had never seen before stepped into the room.

“I’m afraid he’s only one of them, my love,” Mr Dechart said.

Brown eyes so light they were almost gold, narrowed with distaste or pure hatred or something in-between, seared down him. “He’ll do,” they said.

Joey opened his mouth to ask who they were, or maybe to beg, or just to let out a croak of pain, he had no idea and he didn’t get the chance. Mr Dechart grabbed him instead, shoving him back onto the chair pulling his head back. His hands rose to try and resist, but no matter how he pushed, the fingers around his jaw wouldn’t budge. He could only stare up at Mr Dechart and watch.

The man didn’t even look at him. The cold in his eyes had melted at last, and he watched the golden-eyed stranger with obvious adoration. Joey’s eyes jerked from side to side, but he couldn’t see what they were doing. They had to be Mr Dechart’s partner. Nobody else would get a look like that.

A prickling pain at the side of his neck made him hitch a whimpered breath. The metal was cold. He tried to turn his head to pull away, and then swung his arms up, knocking into a thin elbow.

Mx Dechart exhaled sharply, and slammed his arm back down onto the table. Or…no.

No, it hadn’t been their hand. It was still there. The pressure, and the rapidly mounting pain, and oh, oh shit. A hot flush was chased by a cold rush as Joey realised there was a knife in his arm. His eyes watered. He wasn’t sure if he was making a sound.

Mr Dechart continued watching, lovingly.

He couldn’t move his arm. He couldn’t fight. The pressure at the side of his neck returned, but this time it was warm, and Joey realised it had his blood on it and his stomach lurched again in horrified rejection of the feeling of his own fucking blood on him and his arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat, blood pooling on the skin and dropping off the side.

Mx Dechart looked at him, catching his eyes in theirs. He couldn’t tell what emotions were in their stare. Fury? Hatred? Indifference? His vision was blurred.

The knife dug deeper and he tried to scream, but he couldn’t catch enough of a breath. One hand moved over his face, and he caught a glimpse of shining, gold-filigreed nails, before something liquid fell into his open mouth.

It immediately started to burn. Not the burn of fire or ice, but a harsh, tearing chemical burn that ran down his tongue and into his throat, scorching its path.

For a moment the pain of it stopped there, but moments later it started to kindle in his stomach, and then blaze, like a churning mass of razorblades, and he definitely was making some kind of noise now but he couldn’t tell what it was, it was just pain, and terror, and pain.

Mr Dechart let go of his jaw, and gave him a brief pat on the cheek. Sympathy or merely pity, Joey couldn’t tell. He stepped away.

His partner stayed. They watched. They watched as Joey began to gasp for air more than agony, as the saliva frothed in his mouth, as his face began to discolour and his heart beat louder and louder in his ears. They watched, twin circles of gold, reflecting his fluttering eyelids and heaving, helpless chest, as his hands and feet went limp. They watched the moment he seized, and after a last frantic effort of his body, passed on.

They looked away only to ensure the knife was extracted cleanly from his neck, after, and turned away.

“One down,” they muttered.

They left Joey’s corpse behind, walking out hand in bloodstained hand.

[speedydonutdaze]

Wisdom in Suffering - pt 1

This is my first fanfic in YEARS, this is also a slow burn so buckle up. This chapter is basically just an introductory of the MC

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Simon Riley x F!reader/OC

CW/TW : swearing, mentions of death, mdni

__________

15…16…17…

You landed on your knees roughly after jumping over the rock in your path, picking yourself back up to continue your run through the woods. The sun was beating down through the trees on you, sweat starting to prickle on your skin and a bird squawked in surprise as you hurried past and flew away, triggering two more birds to follow suit. You looked at your surroundings as you tried to get your bearings and find a suitable place to hide.

31…32…33…

Time was ticking, the voices from before were fading but you knew they were still close and that they would find you if you didn’t find cover and fast. You took to a quick jog until you found a large group of bushes, the branches thick with leaves and the area of it large enough to hide your frame. You quickly crawled underneath the large bushes and took to a crouching position. You looked around your hideout and let out a silent groan when you noticed that the backside was more open than you anticipated, you’ll be easily spotted if they decided to look around the bushes in their entirety.

It was too late to look for a new place to hide, though.

48…49…50

Time was up.

You slowed your breathing as you listened to the woods come to life with feet scurrying as they searched for you and your teammate. You didn’t see which way he went, but you hoped he found a place to lay low until they gave up their search. It was all a waiting game now. You watched a squirrel hop past, just a few feet from you, before scampering off at the noises of people approaching your position. You held your breath as the bodies ran by the bushes without so much as a glance and you shook your head to yourself as the sound of feet faded away.

You began to relax, so sure that you wouldn’t be found when a force slammed onto your back and you yelped as feet and arms wrapped around your body.

‘We found you, Aunt Maggie!!’

You let out a scream and fell to the ground, ‘No! Unhand me you creatures! You won’t take me alive!’ You laughed as another small body dog piled you, grabbing one of the kids and quickly unsticking yourself from the mess of children. ‘I’ll take this one as my hostage! Good luck now!’

You ran through the woods, one kid squealing over your shoulder and two more hot on your heels laughing as you all made it back to the clearing of the park. Spinning your body around, you looked at the small group of people sitting at some picnic tables before scanning the lawn and resting your eyes on the kids.

‘Have you guys found Uncle Mikey, yet?’ You faked a gasp, ‘Don’t tell me you let him get away! Whatever will you do now that I have one of your own in my clutches? Backup will be here before long!’ You lifted the boy off of your shoulders and laughed as he started trying to wriggle away from your grasp.

‘Sofie and Cam are looking for him! We split up to be faster!’ The little girl, Hope, beamed up at you as her twin brother, Cody, puffed out his chest.

‘It was my idea, Aunt Maggie!’ 

You laughed and set Joey onto his feet and ruffled Cody’s hair. ‘And what a wonderful idea that was, we’ll make a leader out of you yet!’

A roar and screams came from the woods on your right and you all turned to see a man with two giggling children underneath each arm bound out of the treeline, the kids around you laughing and yelling as they ran to meet with the trio, you walking lazily behind them.

‘I see they found you, too.’ You smiled at the brunette man as he set the kids down. He laughed as he pulled a twig out of his shaggy hair.

‘I went easy on them, didn’t want to be sitting out there all day ya know?’

‘Alright soldiers, burgers are done. Come get some before the grown ups get to it first!’ Your sister-in-law waved her hands at your group and the kids immediately started racing to their parents, leaving you two to follow at a slower pace.

Mikey shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked beside you. ‘I see why you always invite me over when the kids come through, I can’t imagine having the energy to keep up with all five of them by yourself.’

You shoved his arm playfully and laughed. ‘And here I thought you liked being around them after all these years.’

______________

You took a seat across from Mikey while all the kids squeezed in on either side of you on the picnic table, each of your plates piled with food. The rest of the adults were gathered around the second picnic table while your dad and brother got the burgers off the grill and passed them around to the hungry group. You and Mikey had been back for almost two months by now, and with school finally over your families took advantage of the nice weather to have a small get together while you still had time. The next mission always loomed overhead and none of you wanted to waste a minute of it if you could.

You took a bite of your burger and smiled. You missed these moments. While it wasn’t calm in any sense of the word when your nieces and nephews were around, you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. You could tell Mikey felt the same; this was the most relaxed you’d seen him since landing back in the States.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Joey tugging on your shirt. ‘Aunt Maggie, why’s that lady staring at us?’ He pointed over the table towards the parking lot. You squinted in the direction he was looking and sure enough, there was a woman standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against a black SUV. You felt your stomach drop as you recognized who exactly it was.

Mikey turned his upper body around to get a look and sighed when he saw the woman. He turned to the adults and waved his hand ‘Hey, you guys got the kids? Julia and I need to step away for a sec.’

Your dad looked up from his conversation and his mouth set into a frown when he also saw the woman. He looked at you and nodded. ‘Yeah, you two take your time.’ There was a hint of disappointment in his tone that you felt all too well as you got up from the table with Mikey and made your way to the parking lot.

‘We haven’t been back all that long, what do you think this one is?’

You huffed. ‘Hopefully something that doesn’t need too much time.’

You gave a nod to the woman which she returned. ‘Mike, Julia. Good to see you two, you look well.’

‘Laswell,’ You forced a smile, ‘Something tells me you aren’t here to have lunch with us.’

Kate Laswell looked around the park before starting down the sidewalk. ‘Let’s take a walk you two.’

_____________

The three of you were sitting at a picnic bench furthest away from everyone with a file propped open in front of you and Mikey. Laswell said that there was a situation in South America where members from wealthy and influential families across varying regions in the area have started disappearing. Kids and teenagers weren’t coming home from school and adults were disappearing in broad daylight, bodies of those who have gone missing would show up tens of miles away.

‘Are they hostages for ransom or sending a message?’ You asked, scanning through the documents and pictures.

‘We aren’t sure. If demands have been sent to the targeted families, they haven’t been made known to us as of yet.’

‘Could they be trafficking them?’ Mikey took a paper from your hands and you shot your eyes up at Laswell.

‘Could it be them?’ Your voice tensed, Mikey placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a squeeze.

‘We don’t think so, but we’re keeping our contacts open just in case.’

You bit the inside of your cheek and rested your head on your head.

‘This is a big job, Laswell, but OT will have no issues with it.’

Laswell smiled before taking another file out of her bag and placing it in front of you and Mikey.. ‘I figured you would say that, but I have a team that I believe will expedite things.’

You scrunched your eyebrows and opened the file ‘SAS…141? The team that helped Alejandro and Rudy in Las Almas?’

Laswell nodded, ‘The very same. I know Olympus Team has worked closely with Los Vaqueros in the past so I felt the 141 would be a suitable choice to pair you with.’

Mikey flipped through the papers with pictures of the soldiers attached and snorted ‘Look Julia, this fucker has a skull mask.’

You took the paper he was pointing to, ‘Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.' you shook your head and smirked. 'Ya know Laswell, the amount of soldiers I’ve seen with masks like this weren’t exactly ones worth working with.’

She chuckled, ‘Lieutenant Riley is a skilled marksman and soldier, you’ll be lucky to have him.’

Your fingers froze over the picture on the next page, your heart dropping into your stomach as you recognized the face.

‘So Price is a captain now? Does he know he’ll be working with me?’

‘He will.’ Laswell gathered the files and stood from the table. ‘Your flight leaves at 0500 tomorrow, I trust you and the rest of your team will be there?’

You nodded and stood up, Mikey following suit. ‘We’ll make the calls today. Do you want to grab a burger on your way out?’

Laswell looked over at your family and shook her head with a small smile. ‘Unfortunately I have other business that needs my attention.’ She stuck her hand out to you. ‘It was good to see you again, ‘Aunt Maggie.’’

You rolled your eyes and shook her hand with a smile. ‘Middle name is Margaret. It was good to see you too.’

_______________

'Alright listen up men, Laswell needs us to head to South America in a few days.' Captain John Price walked into the meeting room immediately getting down to business, sliding six folders across the table. Two for each of the men sitting before him. 

'We're going to be working with an American team so I expect all of you to play nice. From what I've been told they're a strong team but are used to working alone.' 

Gaz opened the file containing the soldier's pictures and information. 'Olympus Team, I've heard stories about them. They're like a bloody machine on the field.' he flipped through the pictures. 'Never thought we'd ever work with them.'

Price nodded, grabbing his own file 'They've worked with Los Vaqueros too, so they come highly recommended.' he leaned back in his chair, throwing his feet up on the table. 'They'll be here today so make sure to make them feel at home.'

Ghost flipped through the file and read your team's names.

Michael Underwood - Achilles

Zachary Owens - Zeus

Alex Moore - Ares

Julia Whitfield - Kore

'Some fucking names they got' he muttered, eyeing your picture. Your shoulder length hair was pulled into a braid and your face was drawn into a frown while the men on your team all had smirks or more relaxed expressions. 

'She's a sniper, eh?'

Soap whistled 'among other things, it seems. She might give you a run for ya money, eh L.T?'

Ghost scoffed, 'not bloody likely.'

The room was quiet for a few moments before Price stood up quickly and threw a file down.

'She’s takin' the piss with me.' 

'all good, Cap?' 

He crumpled a paper in his hand as he stormed out of the room. 'I have a call to make, they'll be here at 1500. Don't muck around.'

Gaz raised his eyebrow at the closed door. 'What do you think that was all about?'

Ghost eyed the open file that Price left behind, noticing that your paper was missing from the group. 

'S'pose we'll find out soon.'

[changingplumbob]

Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 13

Next season of ZBB begins filming

CW: Low level sim spice. Content Warning Guide

For ease of reading if the toddlers are trying to say real words I'll put the English in brackets. Luna (mummy) and Devin (mama) use some German and Italian. Amore (Italian) Love Buongiorno (Italian) Good morning Ciao (Italian) Hello/Bye Schnucki (German) Sweetie but doesn’t have an exact translation

Devin wakes up and kisses her yawning wife. After checking that the boys are still sleeping she ducks in the shower so she can have breakfast with Luna. On her way to the breakfast table she runs into a madly grinning Joey who is scoffing his food.

Devin: Ciao

Joey: Buongiorno. Tuesday is coming over before work so… don’t barge into the gym okay sis?

Devin: *laughs* someone woke up in the mood

Joey: Having a spin before work stops me flirting with interns so everyone wins

He rushes out as Luna comes in smiling. She bends down to grab far back in the fridge and Devin realises her own needs are bubbling up.

Devin: Buongiorno amore mio. Te amo

Luna: Are you trying to seduce me Mrs Villareal

Devin: I know, I know *sighs*  you’re married and you love her

Luna: Well I do

Devin: You know… today is your day off

Luna: Maybe but you’re needed at set at 9

Devin: That gives us at least an hour by my calculation. If you wanted to have a little… breakfast in bed

Luna laughs as the toddlers potter around the couple getting their plates of food. Seeing the toddlers are happy she stands and grabs Devin’s hand, pulling her back to their bedroom. They were too exhausted after trying to bolster Max and Miriam to have any fun last night but now they have time together.

Luna: Schatz… promise me we won’t end up like my brother and his wife

Devin: I can promise I’ll love you forever amore mio, how’s that

Luna: Deal

Luckily Devin gets her satisfaction in before set time. Once again actors from all productions are on lot and she has large doubts about the management that schedule the use of the lot. Before she heads in however she takes care to take a selfie for simstagram and update her followers with “ZBB Season 3, let’s go!!!”

First stop, as always, hair/makeup and wardrobe.

Devin: Damn Emily, this jacket is nice

Emily: It may not be post-apocalyptic authentic but who are they to say your character didn’t pillage a mall after the bugs wiped out the humans inside

Devin: Thanks Em

Then she pops back to show Rudolphus the finished look.

Rudolphus: Oh I do good work, look at you! Thank the watcher you didn’t smudge getting into that

Devin: Selfie for the album?

Costume sorted Devin goes to practice her monologue. When she had a small role in the first season the prevalence of monologues worried her a little. It’s not often in TV nowdays that the protagonist talks to no one, normally there’s some kind of animatronic or ball you’re meant to treat like a cgi creature. But Norah knows her stuff and it really sells the medium as sole survivors amongst the fallen.

She’s interrupted by a producer who lets her know Norah wants a word with her before shooting begins s she heads to the main stage to find her old friend.

Norah: Thank goodness you’re here, I think some of the other stars are going to riot

Devin: What do you mean

Norah: You know how we have to film a death scene for everyone so that word can’t get out about who is really getting killed off

Devin: Yeah…

Norah: Some are considering themselves above such “cheap stunts” and are refusing to do it. Apparently they object to being treated as "dispensable"

Devin: *gasps* but… we can’t risk it getting spoiled

Norah: I know, I know, this season is banking on "no one is safe". Could you do your death scene first? I’m thinking if the artists see one of the fan favourites is on board with the plan we can bring them around

Devin assures her friend that she’s happy to go first and will treat it as seriously as if her character were actually dying. Honestly, Norah faced this kind of pushback too much. It’s so hard for women to break into directing. Walking the set to get a feel of it she’s glad to see Connor isn’t here, she’d have been disappointed if he was one of the ones pushing back.

Norah: Villareal death scene, QUIET on set

A hush descends as the regulars and guest stars notice their most famous face has taken the stage. If Norah was using her real name instead of the character name she was making a point. Devin wouldn’t let her make it alone.

ACTION

Devin: Oh… oh I feel… I can’t be pregnant… wait…

She pauses and looks directly into camera.

Devin: It’s the bugs… they’ve woken up inside me…

She freezes in place, contorting her face in a vision of pain. She pretends the bugs are winning and spasms to her knees. She acts as though she is trying to speak, trying to get a last message out, but it’s too late. She buckles sideways and lays motionless.

CUT

Devin: Was that good? Did we get it

Norah: Perfect Mrs Villareal! Now… who’s up next?

Devin shuffles off stage as one by one the actors put on their game faces and play through their own death scenes. The grumbling on set ends, the point has been made. No one is indispensable in TV.

The rest of the shoot goes well. Devin is used to the set now, it’s becoming a familiar playground for her. She does fight scenes and flirting scenes alongside the guest stars, and the shoot wouldn’t be complete without a guitar solo.

Back home Devin hangs outside with Luna and the twins. While Luna is in charge of teaching numbers Devin is in charge of playing pirate! Alfred is first on the ship while Rilian focuses on the flashcards.

Luna: This number is first…

Rilian: One?

Luna: That’s it schnucki

After Alfred finishes playing he gives Devin a big hug before going to ask Luna for his turn at flashcards. Rilian waddles over to the ship and gets busy steering!

Rilian: Mama

Devin: Yes Rilian

Rilian: Did you think about me pool

Devin: *laughs* I did. You better thank your Mummy as well

Rilian: *smiling* you mean…

Devin: One kiddie pool coming up!

Devin grabs the plastic pool from inside and fills it up while an excited Rilian dances. When it’s deep enough Devin helps him in and he goes to sit down.

Rilian: MAMA *splashes*

Devin: Are you happy caro

Rilian: YES *splashes*

Devin and the toddler play around splashing each other while a studious Alfred works on his numbers with Luna. It’s a warm autumn day and Devin has ever seen her son smile so wide.

Previous ... Next

[wordswrittenbynight]

Six Sentence Sunday

This comes from Even Death May Die.

CW: Death

She stares at me for a long time, trying to make up her mind whether or not to believe what she’s seeing. She turns toward the mirror, hoping it holds some answers. A few seconds later, she realizes that neither of us are reflected back at her. She trembles, fighting the urge to panic that is clawing its way up her throat. And then she looks down, seeing her lifeless body deflated on the cold tile. “I’m dead.”

*This is unedited from a work in progress and is subject to modification or deletion in future drafts. Copyrighted by me and may not be republished or redistributed.

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