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emiewritesthings · 3 years

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doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness.

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.”

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince.

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended.

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.”

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about.

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.”

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other.

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.”

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building.

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter.

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.”

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar.

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy.

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.”

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side.

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.”

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours.

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace.

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense.

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed.

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.”

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before.

“you mean it?” he asked.

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable.

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence.

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer.

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.”

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

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zukump3 · 3 years

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Hi can I get a Bakugou x reader childhood friends to lovers headcanon or something like that

yes u can!

idiot bakugo falling for the calm before his storm

fluff!

you always think of yourself as the yin to his yang, the calm before his storm

he’s been hot headed ever since childhood

and you were always there to calm him down when he needed it

his crush on you didn’t start forming until middle school

he would always walk with you in the lunch lines and would roll his eyes whenever you said you forgot your food

“you’re so fucking stupid!” he would tell you before giving you a huge chunk of his ham sandwich

going into high school was when the feelings really

really

started to form

both of you got into UA, of course, and you were in the same class

everyone always noticed how bakugo was standoffish to nearly everyone except for you

“is bakugo a tsundereeee?” the red haired boy would tease you two before you even became friends with him

“SHUT UP, SHITTY HAIR!”

both of you definitely start to develop more feelings in high school

he would train with you privately at night with your quirk, and would have such a proud look on his face when you got something right that you previously didn’t get

“doing good bird brain.” he would comment, flicking your forehead

eventually finds himself unable to look at you for too long without blushing

have you always been that pretty..?

when you’re fighting with other students, he gets extremely upset if they hurt you

one time you were training with todoroki and the half and half boy sent you falling by making ice appear underneath your feet

you slipped and fell, hitting your head pretty hard

“HEY!!!”

everyone is basically silent as bakugo marches up to todoroki, seemingly livid

“what the FUCK do you think you’re doing, icy hot?!”

“training.” todoroki answers simply, which makes bakugo even more angry

kirishima and kaminari have to hold him back from blasting at todoroki

he’s so mad in the recovery room with you omg

bouncing his leg in irritation

“suki, it’s okay... it was just a little fall.” you tried to tell him, placing your hand on his knee

he has to ignore how that simple touch gives him butterflies

“i don’t give a shit. he hurt you,” he seethes. “didn’t even apologize. i’ll kill that-“

he gaps in shock when your soft hands hold onto his, and you smile so gently at him he thinks he’s going to faint

“he did apologize, suki. you were just too mad to even hear him, being whisked away by your two buffoons.”

you laugh at him, patting his hands before leaning back and resting

he is. in. such. Shock??1!2

and you can’t deny the fact that doing that also gave you butterflies

because it definitely did

bakugo isn’t ugly by any means

the older he gets, the more attractive he gets

his body fills out in the perfect places and he’s got the sharpest jawline you’ve ever seen

you almost can’t look at him when you two work out together

how does someone look so fucking hot in a black t shirt wtffzgxhxj

at first, he’s subtle at showing how he likes you

he cuddles you a little closer when you two study in his dorm

or sends you a bunch of random playlists with “for y/n” as the name

definitely a morning bird, so he’s always buying you breakfast

he talks to you a lot more. he was never that talkative but now he talks to you about random shit, and it’s not just about how much he hates midoriya or how annoying mineta is

it’s about,,, his favorite songs? a new movie that came out, watching it with you?

“my mom developed a few new outfits and i think you’d look good in them,” he’ll tell you one day, and quickly splutters at the silence that follows. “i-if you could afford them!”

you’re the same with showing how much you adore him

playing with his hair when you two are chilling in the dorm,

or giving him kisses on the cheek when you two get back from hanging out

he doesn’t directly asks you to be his girlfriend

after flirting and giggling all night with each other he just kinda—harshly smushes both of your cheeks together

and is just like

“alright. i’m tired of this slow burn bullshit. you’re mine now, okay?”

and who are you to say no to him? 🙈

#mha x black reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha #bakugo x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugou katsuki

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bellamyblakru · 3 years

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omg ok so idk how many im allowed to ask for the otp ask game thingy BUT if this is too many just do the ones you really want:D (SORRY I GOT EXCITED)

merthur & 2, 6, 7, 13, 24, 29, 30

oh my god roya i went ham on these. i apologize in advance 💀i got so excited too siskksksksks thank you so much for this holy shit, it was literally so much fun

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

omg i think it depends on who got the drama arc that day ajclajfefkafn i would say normally merlin is 100% the big spoon LOL he just has that “need to comfort and protect” vibe, you feel?

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

oooo so interesting, like physical features? id wanna say merlin loves arthur’s hands the most. like he can just sit for hours watching arthur signing documents and writing speeches and all that shit, plus arthur is definitely a hands on man (since he was touched starved to the max) so merlin always craves those little moments where arthur’s hand lingers on his own, or on his neck, or on his chest. the first thing to come to my mind for arthur is that he absolutely adores merlin’s hair. like when he forgets to cut it short and it gets a bit longer and more curly, the wildness just fits merlin so nicely. his hair in the morning is just so messy and perfect and the way the light hits it makes merlin feel more ethereal--its in those moments, right before merlin wakes up, where arthur just stares at this magical king and wonders what god he should thank for giving him someone so lovely.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

OH GOD. dude, the first thing that changes for merlin is what he thinks about as he helps arthur dress for the day. now, he notices the subtle way arthur leans into his touch, the way arthur smiles softly when merlin fixes his collar, the way his own hands tremble, ever-so slightly, as he smooths out arthur’s shirt. ARTHUR. man, the first thing that changes for arthur when he realized he has feelings for merlin is EVERYTHING. my mans tries to not change a fucking thing about the routine or day--but he tries way too fucking hard and its painfully noticeable that something is happening in his mind. merlin notices it, of course, but thinks arthur is stressed about something kingly. you know who tells him to fucking stop? LANCELOT. that man walks up to arthur, drags his ass aside, and gently, but not weakly, says “you suck at this” and helps him understand that merlin is already head over heels for him wjsjjsksksks

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

arthur. 100%. touch is his thingggg™️. merlin has probably ached to hold arthur’s hand for years, but arthur does it first. i imagine two different scenarios: one, its fucking chaos out. there is some bad guy or some shit they are fighting, the knights are scattered, they are bloodied, bruised, and tired, but merlin hasn’t left his side for even a moment. the warlock’s back is still straight, his chin is still high, the defiance burning so brightly in those eyes that arthur cant help but reach over and grab the man’s hand to try to gain some of his resilience and passion and strength. two, it could be the laziest fucking day of the year. the knights of the roundtable are laughing and eating in arthur’s chambers, lance and gwen are making doe-eyes at one another, gwaine and percy are stealin little glances, and arthur is just so fucking content. like he looks around to smiles, and laughing, and happiness, and he turns his head to see merlin staring at him in concern. and he cant help it, man, he just reaches over and squeezes his hand. merlin’s eyes widen, but a soft smile grows there. arthur just doesn’t let go though, so merlin leans over and puts his head on arthur’s shoulder being completely beautifully content together.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

BRUH THIS SCREAMS MERLIN. I'M LAUGHING SO MUCH FKHNNSKNR. dudee. imagine it?? they are seated at a Very Important Dinner™️ with some Very Important People™️ and arthur is just about to make a toast and BAM-merlin whispers something outrageously fucking dirty. ARTHUR SPLUTTERS AND TURNS SO FUCKING RED ASDFGHHJK. merlin just smiles (his most regal smile) and turns away to talk to Very Important Someone™️ and arthur has to wait a few more minutes to compose himself and vows to get back at merlin later (he never does because merlin always beats him to it). OR LIKE DURING AUDIENCES? like this fucking farmer is complaining that he thinks his neighbor stole his chicken named Clucky and merlin just walks up to arthur and Says Something™️ that makes arthur cough...violently...and merlin turns around, solves the farmer’s problem, and goes back to his spot like nothing happened. arthur stares at him for much longer than he is suppose to before leon steps in and taps arthur’s shoulder to continue LOLLL

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

oh lord,,, where to start? im not sure if this is a common headcanon or not, but that merlin actually could have saved arthur. he is the most powerful warlock to ever fucking exist, and he couldn’t save him? i call bullshit. i think he had the power to, and i think deep down he realizes that when its too late (like arthur’s eyes fluttering shut too late) and thats what breaks him. what haunts him for literal centuries. the simple fact that he could have saved him. i think he didn’t know enough about his magic yet, or that he refused to acknowledge that kind of power simmering under his skin, or that he just didn’t believe enough in himself because of how many times shit had hit the fan when merlin did magic near arthur. so..yeah…yikes

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

LOL im full of angsty headcanons so hmmm. during arthur’s reign, they used to stay up late at night in arthur’s chambers. it didn’t matter what they did: whether it was arthur teaching merlin how to play chess as merlin complained the entire time that strategy at midnight was a cruel and unnecessary punishment, or arthur helped merlin clean his chambers as merlin hummed an old song his mother used to sing to him before bed, or just the two of them sitting in front of the fireplace with two glasses of wine talking about everything and nothing all at once. but once the quiet hits, its never, ever, uncomfortable. they can sit in silence for hours and never be bored or scared to break it. they just sit there, side by side, leaning on one another like they do in everything in life.

thank you again😭💖💖 akakakakak i might have gotten too excited?😂

otp ask game

#ashley answers #IM SO SORRY ITS SO MUCH #I FEEL PASSIONATE ABOUT THEM #merthur #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin headcanons #otp ask game #arthur pendragon #should this been ashley rambles too LOLL #long post #there are probably typos #skskskskks

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

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talk trash, get brass // george weasley

Summary: someone bad-mouthing George has make him a little insecure – it’s definitely time for the reader to step in

Request: can i request fred or george dating the reader and she's with her friends and he overhears one of them talking shit about him [he's worried y/n will agree and gets sad :(] but she defends him and says she genuinely loves him 😘 thanks xx

A/N: this took me forever because I can’t choose between the twins but also I was fighting making it a slytherin!reader bc the slytherin girls are written as catty bitches which would make this easier but we move also I wrote planked by his ravenclaw buddies and nearly had a stroke also I dragged Michael Corner’s character through the mud #sorrynotsorry also have I miraculously forgotten how to write in character????

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing, bad friends, argument

“Fred,” you said, finding him in the Great Hall with half of a ham sandwich stuffed into his mouth. “Why is George ignoring me?”

He rolled his eyes when you sat down, watching him with an expectant look as you drummed your fingers impatiently on the table.

“Lovely to see you too, Y/N,” he said, wetting his lips and waving the other half of his sandwich around in his hand as he spoke. “Me? Yeah, I’m doing just swell actually, cheers for asking. No, I wanted the beef really but McLaggen took the last one, the thieving bastard.”

You shot him a dry look, grinding your teeth together. He rolled his eyes again at your raised eyebrows.

“Not in the mood for jokes then, are we?”

“How would you know?” you asked, huffing. “You haven’t told me any.”

“Ouch,” he whined, placing his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You wound me.”

You sighed, brushing your hair back from your face as your shoulders slumped.

“Come on, Fred. I know you know why he’s been avoiding me.”

For a moment, Fred didn’t reply. He just stared at you, gauging your expression with his level gaze. To say you were surprised would’ve been an understatement; serious Fred was not something you were well accustomed to.

“I don’t have a clue,” he said, leaning back and throwing the rest of his sandwich lazily on his plate. You scoffed.

“Bullshit, tell me.”

“Go ask George,” he replied quickly, gripping the edge of the table with his hands as your voices got louder.

“I can’t ask George, can I, Fred? He’s the one bloody ignoring me!”

You swore sometimes that Fred and George had one brain cell between them and even that could be a bit of a stretch.

“Fine then,” Fred threw his hands up indignantly. “Ask your friend Michael! I’m sure he knows all about it!”

“What?” you said quietly, visibly taken aback, your shoulders slumping. Fred groaned, his hands coming up to hide his face.

“I definitely wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“What did Michael do?”

Fred looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, wilting under your determined stare.

“Fred…” you said, your tone decidedly warning.

“Your mate Michael was talking bollocks about George to all his Ravenclaw buddies – which is quite rich isn’t it, really? Coming from him, the little toad. Can’t believe he dated Cho Chang; I heard Ginny might be going for him as well… pfft, there’s no accounting for- oi, where are you going?”

You barely caught the end of Fred’s rant, already racing out of the Great Hall, undecided as to whether you were in search of Michael or George first. The universe chose for you, though, when you spotted Michael circling around a corridor, flanked by some of his Ravenclaw friends.

You and Michael were more acquaintances than friends. Truth be told, you only talked to him to start with to help Ginny out; she’d been looking for someone to help her get over her crush on Harry. You thought it was futile given how much she liked him, but you were always happy to help out a friend. It appeared though, that not everybody you called your friend was as friendly. Michael had been fine for a while and you found that sometimes you did actually get on with him, especially when there was nobody else around to talk to. Now, though, now you were questioning your standards.

“Hey!” you yelled, immediately drawing the attention of Michael, his friends, and the rest of the corridor. “Michael!”

“You okay, Y/N?” he asked and as you looked at him, genuine concern written all over his features, all you wanted to do was punch him.

“What have you been saying about George?”

He looked confused for a second and then guilty, and then a haughty look lifted his nose up and you were really, at that second, re-evaluating your decision not to hit him.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he said, smiling. “You can’t be serious.”

You stepped closer to him; your hand lowered just in case you needed easy access to your wand.

“Tell me what you said about my boyfriend. I know you said something, so tell me, now.”

He looked to his friends as if considering whether you were actually serious before he scoffed.

“All I said was that you were way too smart to be with a bloke as dumb as him,” you huffed, fists clenching at his words. “I’m not wrong, Y/N, those twins are bad news and they’re hardly boyfriend-“

“Hey, Michael,” you said, trying desperately to control yourself as you frowned, head ticking to the side. “Do you remember two years ago when the Slytherin common room was pink for two weeks?”

He frowned, nervously glancing at his friends. “Sure,” he said, though he seemed anything but.

“Do you remember how they had to get Dumbledore himself to fix it because none of the other teachers could figure out how to make it green again. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, why? What’s that got-“

“George did that. He used about eight different cloaking spells and spent weeks convincing Nearly Headless Nick to help him and Fred. Could you do that?”

He opened his mouth, but you weren’t finished. Ever since you started dating George, everyone seemed to have an opinion and you were tired of it.

“No, Michael, you couldn’t.”

With your voice raised and your determined gaze directed solely at Michael and his Ravenclaw buddies, all looking very uncomfortable, you didn’t even notice George lurking behind you.

“And you know that time that nobody could figure out how the Gryffindor Quidditch Team knew everything about the Ravenclaw strategies? That was George too. Between him and Fred, they made these things,” you found yourself getting distracted as you remembered how impressed you’d been. “These ears that you can use over massive, unprecedented distances to eavesdrop on people. That technology is legendary, regardless of what it’s used for.”

“And so,” you huffed, adjusting your robes as you leant back, aware that maybe you were being too hard on him. “You can shove your opinion, because George Weasley, my George, he’s a bloody genius. And he’s not bad news. He’s the kindest, sweetest guy and you’d be lucky to be half as patient or funny or amazing as him, alright, Michael?”

Michael looked taken aback by your outburst and even you were slightly surprised at your rant. His friends were equally caught off guard. Well, most of them. The boy on the right of him frowned, rolling his eyes. You wouldn’t have caught it had he not muttered under his breath.

“Weasley can’t fight his own battles, then?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” you reached for your wand and the boys in front of you stumbling backwards to avoid you. Before you could make them eat slugs like you so desperately wanted to, a hand caught your wrist. You spun around, brows furrowed at whoever was stopping you until you saw George’s face, all freckles and gentleness. All the anger that you’d had flooded away as he looked over your shoulder at the three Ravenclaw boys.

“I reckon you should piss off, now, don’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell them twice; within seconds they had disappeared down the corridor before you could hex them properly.

You turned to George as he slid his hand down your wrist to interlock your fingers together.

“Telling everyone my top-secret pranks, are we?” he asked, a crooked smile on his lips.

“Finally, not ignoring me anymore, are we?” you mimicked in the same tone, regretting it slightly as he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, your noses touching.

“I thought you’d agree with him, didn’t I?” he said quietly, pulling his top lip between his teeth. “I knew he was your friend-“

“He’s bloody not anymore, that’s for certain. He’s lucky I didn’t send him to Madam Pomfrey.”

Your anger sparked again thinking about it, but as always, George’s warm hand rubbing up and down your arm washed it away and you looked at him to see him already smiling at you.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because you think I’m kind and sweet and funny and drop-dead gorgeous.”

You smiled, shoving at him with your intertwined hands.

“I don’t remember saying you were funny. Or gorgeous.”

“I do. It was right before you called me amazing. And besides, gorgeous is bit of a given, isn’t it?”

You made a face at the way he flicked his hair and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the fond smile off your face no matter how hard you tried.

“You really thought I’d agree with him?” you asked quietly, picking at your bottom lip with your teeth. He avoided your eyes. “Georgie.”

He sighed, facing you properly, his eyes trailing down your face.

“Everyone knows how out of my league you are, love,” he said, stroking your cheek with the back of his finger. “Just felt like I was punching above my weight, didn’t I?”

“Well,” you whispered, letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks. “Whilst I am objectively much better looking-“

He pinched your side, earning a grunt in response before his palms settled on your waist.

“I love you,” You pressed a kiss to his left cheek and then right. “And that,” another kiss to his nose then forehead. “Is all that matters.”

You finally pecked him on the lips, happy to see him smiling again, happy to hear his voice.

“So,” you grinned. “If anyone says anything else, just send them to me.”

“Oh, I will,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “I like it when you get all feisty. Especially over me.”

harry potter tag list: <3<3

@creator-appreciator

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@staringmoony

@rexorangecouny

@ickle-ronniekins

@harrysweasleys

@alittletoomanyobsessions

@peachesandpinks

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #imagine #writing

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gwynposting · 3 years

Text

Justice (Ch. 1)

This is the start of an alternate ending for Cyberunk 2077, focused around Judy as she tries to help V rid herself of the relic without also shedding her soul in the process.

AO3 Link

The feigning scent of nicotine clouds leftover from the trapped remnants of Maiko’s cigarette sent itching pulses of desire through V’s body. The activation throughout her body startled and scared her. She didn’t smoke. She hadn’t puffed a stick in her life and yet she eased into it like she was sitting in a favorite chair. More than once had she caught herself reaching for a cigarette from Evelyn’s pack before swiping the inner thoughts of Johnny away.

The clack of Maiko’s stilettos began to fade into the background, “Maiko, hold up. Give us a lift?” Roxanne called out.

“Only if you don’t talk to me,” Maiko responded bitterly, “I feel a migraine coming on.”

She’s not the only one, V thought to herself. It almost felt like the cigarette fumes had been a trigger for it - like her brain was trying to associate the smell to memories that she’s never experienced before, that never existed. Flashes of seething bitter hatred and insecurity and jealousy pulsed through her veins came and went.

It took the breath out of her, and V had to brace herself with both hands to remain upright.

“Oh shit,” Judy said as she siddled besides V, “I’m scared, V.”

Judy looked down to her lap before continuing, “Speakin’ of gratitude… stuff I’m askin’ you to do, well - usually comes with a price tag, I know. You wanna help, I get that. But I’m more’n happy to pay your fee in full.”

V shifted her weight to her right arm so she could wave Judy away with her left, “C’mon Judy, you serious? Out of the question.”

“Bu-” Judy tried to make her case.

“Ah ah ah,” V tutted, “Not… not a word,” dizziness began to set in - her head began to swim and V found it difficult to even complete a sentence. She tried to provide a smile of assurance, but by the expression on Judy’s face, she wasn’t buying it.

“You okay V?” Judy reached out and placed a hand on V’s knee.

V looked up to meet Judy’s concerned eyes, which she could only meet with her own - unfocused and strained. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, just a long day.”

“How ‘bout I call a cab then,” Judy soothed.

“Preem,” V replied, before placing both hands on her knees and trying to lift herself up from the couch. “Thanks -” she began before what felt like electricity shot through her nervous system.

V clutched her head in agony as if it would stop the cosmic force tormenting her from using her skull as a sharpening stone. Every scrape and slice caused by another memory overwriting her brain, another one of her memories lost to time as one more of Johnny Silverhand’s took its place.

RELIC MALFUNCTION DETECTED

V’s legs gave out from under her. She reached out for the couch’s siding to fall back onto.

But she was far too weak to support herself, and her legs began to give out from under her until she collapsed on the cushion below.

“V? Are you okay?” Judy’s voice sounded distant.

She barely even heard Judy. She was breathless, her heart raced. She was staring down the barrel of Dexter Deshawn and he had just put a bullet through her skull.

“V?” Judy’s words became more desperate, “Talk to me.”

It sounded like V was underwater and all she could hear were the muffled desperate cries of Judy, until finally Judy reached out and shook her shoulder.

“V,” Judy stressed, “please.”

But as quickly as the searing pain shot through her body, it soon dissipated. Yet she continued to stare forward, past Judy and into the distance - she still stood down the barrel of Deshawn’s .22.

“S-sorry to scare you like that,” V attempted a smile. Her cheeks were a deep scarlet, whether flush from the pain moments before or from the embarrassment of having Judy bear witness to one of her episodes.

“W-what the fuck, V,” Judy’s voice had a hint of shakiness, “are you like… sick?”

“Something like that,” V said with a gruff. She still felt in a sort of daze, her muscles struggled to keep herself upright. “How much you wanna know?”

Judy tilted her head, “Only what you want to, V. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

V looked off to the side before her eyes rested upon her lap, “Well,” V said with a choke that even caught herself off guard, “Might have bad news for you.”

She attempted to look Judy in the eye but faltered under their piercing worry, “You know the heist that Evelyn hired us for, the relic I was gonna klep?”

“Couldn’t forget that in a million years,” Judy said somberly.

“I’ll spare you the gritty details but… in short the chip we stole’s stuck in my head. The chip is keeping me alive, but it’s also slowly killing me.”

Judy seemed taken aback, “You bein’ serious?”

“Sounds like a lot, I know. Truly wish it was all bullshit, believe me.”

“Fuck,” Judy muttered under her breath, “Anything at all you can do?”

“One can hope,” V withered.

Judy gave a sad smile, “It’s late, you’re tired. You can crash here for the night if you’d like,” Judy gave a reassuring pat on the knee to V.

V could only nod in return, “Thanks, Jude.”

Judy stood up and walked back to her room while V took the opportunity to kick off her boots and lay down on the couch. There wasn’t a pillow to lean on, but V couldn’t care less - she was already half asleep by the time her cheeks touched the couch.

“I got some pillows and a blanket for -” Judy cut herself off as she saw V fast asleep on her couch, arms splayed out and face straight down. She couldn’t help but smile, “Pssh, fuckin’ gonk.”

Judy shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, creeping up to the sleeping merc. With as careful a touch as she could, she cradled V’s head in one hand as she slipped a pillow underneath. She then took the blanket and splayed it atop her body.

Judy looked down upon V’s form and found it hard to take her eyes away. To see such a force of nature so vulnerable, so…

Adorable…

It sent butterflies to the pit of Judy’s stomach.

But in the same moment those butterflies turned to boulders, sinking within as she felt the gravity of the emotions within - vulnerability.

Of course she’s fucking dying, the dark thoughts appeared in Judy’s head. And while they were immediately beaten back down by conscious thought, she wasn’t able to push down the underlying fear that she’d open herself up to someone once more, only to lose them to the inevitable grind of Night City’s heel. But her mind was no more hostage to her first impulse as she was to her second - there was an ever present war taking place within her.

How could I be so selfish? She’s fucking dying and I immediately make it about myself.

Judy hadn’t even realized she’d reached for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket until her other hand failed to locate her lighter. Deciding she didn’t want to bother having a fight with herself on a nicotine-deprived brain, she waited until she was back on the roof of her building, lit cigarette in hand, staring out to the NC skyline.

Is it too much to ask for just one thing to go right, she asked herself.

Yet Judy quickly reminded herself, You’re acting like she’s your girlfriend already.

Judy cursed herself at even the thought - she didn’t even know if V was even into women. She took a heavy draw from her cigarette before flicking it off the balcony.

***

Judy’s gaze lingered on V’s sleeping form. Maybe she was looking a bit too close - her eyes focused on a couple strands of hair drooped over V’s face. She had the overwhelming desire to sweep them back over the merc’s ear, but ultimately decided not.

“Goodnight, V.”

***

Sharp cracks raced through the air. Although used to the familiar tenors, V shot up in an instant - her hair raised on end, breath rapid, and heartbeat racing. More gunfire sprung forth, followed by the screeching squeal of rubber against pavement. The gripping roar of motorcycles soon began to fade into the streets of Kabuki.

V clutched her chest as she tried to calm herself down. She was fine.

For now.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, the throbbing headache leftover from last night’s attack took its place. V groaned in pain as she began to feel her own heartbeat through her head.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Judy called out.

V turned to see Judy in the kitchen making breakfast. She tried to match the energy Judy was bestowed but could only manage a pained half-smile. “Helluva alarm clock.”

“Things have been getting hot between Maelstrom and the Tyger Claws lately,” Judy sighed, “it doesn't help that I live on the border of their territories.”

Judy paused what she was doing and instead took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee from the pot. She also grabbed a pill bottle and doled out a couple in her hand and brought them both over to V.

“Coffee and,” she held out her hand for V, dropping its contents into her hand, “ibuprofen. And I hope you like ham.”

“Wow,” V replied, “thanks, Judy. And yeah, I love it.”

“Least I can do.” Judy said with a smile before returning to the kitchen.

Least I can do, she repeated in her thoughts.

V tossed both tablets in her mouth and washed it down with several large gulps of coffee. The scalding liquid coating the inside of her mouth was the least of her concerns, she needed caffeine inside her ASAP.

When Judy was finished, she brought over a fresh ham sandwich. V took it and scarfed it down, only to blush as she realized what a messy eater she was being.

Wiping her lips clean, she looked up to see Judy sitting on the couch a ways away looking vaguely concerned, “Sorry I uh, freaked you out last night.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Judy asked.

V rubbed her neck, not wanting to lay it all on Judy at once, “It’s not usually that bad.”

“C’mon, V. Cut the shit. What’s really going on?”

“No gettin’ around this, huh?” V asked, but really it was more a statement of fact, knowing Judy.

Judy gave a half smile, but it gave away her underlying fears and doubts, “I’m worried, V.”

Something deeper pierced V, she couldn’t pinpoint it. All she knew was she couldn’t deny Judy this request, “You want the long version, then?”

“Call it a thanks for breakfast,” Judy smirked.

“Might want to get comfortable then. Because well, shit, where do I begin?” V thought for a moment before continuing once more, “So, my choom and I, big guy named Jackie, tangled with this hotshot fixer, Dexter Deshawn.”

“He’s the one who put you in contact with Evie?” Judy asked.

V nodded, “Mhm, as well as make us run some errands,” V said with a scoff, “but anyways, the job was to hit Konpeki Plaza, right? Klep some biochip that the son of ‘Saka was stealing for himself.”

“Which is why you came in for the braindances,” Judy affirmed.

“Exactly. But the job went wrong, as you know. I lost Jackie getting out of Konpeki. And…”

“...and?” Judy said, softly, not wanting to sound too impatient.

“I died, Judy. I fucking died.” V shuddered at the thought.

“Are you… are you joking right now?” How are you alive?” Judy leaned forward in disbelief.

“Remember that chip we were stealin’? Well, the container got busted when we were escaping. The next best place to store it was hooked into one of our brains, apparently. Jackie took the honors initially but… well….” V shook her head, “So I slotted the shard in myself after Jackie died.”

“I’m sorry, by the way. Truly,” Judy soothed as she scooched closer across the sofa so that she was now in touching distance between V.

V could really only offer a smile of acknowledgement in return, for she felt nothing but agony when she looked inward. “Guess the biochip was my saving grace - Dexter Deshawn double crossed me, put a bullet in my skull. I died then. But the craziest part is that the chip restarted my brain, god knows how much later. And I woke up to find myself in a junkyard in the badlands, covered in filth in debris.”

“J-Jesus fuck, V.” Judy’s voice hitched, “But I guess you made it out, all things considered.”

V nodded, “Got back only to realize I had the engram of a terrorist in my brain - Johnny Silverhand.”

“Woah, woah,” Judy waved, “engram?”

“Think of it like some digitized psyche, like if someone downloaded your entire brain and saved it to memory. His psyche is on the chip inside me.”

“Okay okay, so like the ‘Saka commercials just… just in your brain.”

“Yeah, something like that. But I guess when it restarted my brain, the chip began erasing me and writing in Johnny.”

“Fuck,” Judy stuttered. “So you’re becoming Johnny Silverhand?”

“Yeah,” V’s voice cracked, tears began to form on high cheekbones. “In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be someone completely different. I won’t even exist.”

Judy instantly moved to V’s side and wrapped an arm about her, pulling her close. “I wonder what it’ll be like to die for a second time,” V pondered dryly.

“Is there really nothing you can do?” Judy almost pleaded.

“There’s a few leads. I’m waiting to hear back from a fixer that can put me in touch with the Voodoo Boys, and I still need to look into finding the lead researcher for the biochip.”

“Ok,” Judy breathed deeply, “Alright. Then you focus on that, okay? And listen, I know you said you’d help out with Clouds but this is your life on the line here, V, I’d completely understand if you back out.”

“I said I was helping Judy, and that’s final.”

V’s assuredness sent a shiver down Judy’s spine - her unwavering voice, despite cracked with emotion moments before, her steadied eyes, still reddened from irritation and tears yet firm in their conviction, and the almost offended expression on her face to even suggest that she’d go back on her promise.

“Then... keep me posted? About how it goes... If you want,” Judy stumbled over her words. “I want to help if I can.”

“Of course, Judy. And thanks,” V smiled in appreciation.

Even the slightest gesture made Judy’s heart flutter. This gonk will be the death of me.

#cyberpunk 2077 #judy alvarez #judy x v #female v #v x judy #Justice2077

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pwapuri · 3 years

Text

Gintsu week day 7: meant to be

It was another dawn in Edo. The katoken program had already passed and they were showing the session of the films that nobody wants to see. Gintoki woke up in a jump dreaming again about some things from the past...When he bet with Takasugi that he could find the watermelon smelling the candy, he can still hear Zura's voice in his head saying it was a bad idea. Although younger Zura was always the most prudent and pleaded with Gintoki and Takasugi to stop getting in trouble without the sensei seeing them. That was when in the dream things got mixed up and Gintoki heard kagura taking Takasugi's place encouraging him to jump off the cliff while Shinpachi cut the watermelon and said the joke was over and the years had passed. An old man with responsibilities shouldn't do these things. It was true.

Upon seeing the friends of past and present, with the ghost of time on top of everyone gintoki woke up with kagura mumbling sleep and Shinpachi without the cover that fell off the sofa. The three had fallen asleep while the katoken program.

-Hey. Go to bed ... Do you all want to get a cold or...

He looked at the two young lying on the couch without concern. How long had it been like this?

At the age that Kagura now had, gintoki had lost Shouyo to the tendoushuu and at the age of Shinpachi he had already killed so many amantos and government officials that he had stopped worrying.

That was all he had now. It was more than he could ever imagine to have. When Otose found him and took him home, Gintoki went through the front door of what is now Yorozuya and thought that how big the space was, even that the space was just three times bigger than the prison cell. There was nothing, no furniture or equipment. He thought about how he would do business being who he was, without a title or master. But as soon as began to know the neighborhood and become friends with people and so they started to trust in his services, It wasn't long before he found these two idiots who started to follow him. That room now looked tiny. Even though Shinpachi sometimes looked at him with contempt and even though he never managed to pay the month, making them be shamed. When they looked at him with admiration, when they asked for help or advice, everything was worth it. He never thought of it as a family because it is dangerous ... as companions it might be cowardly because he knew it was more. But he liked to think that this was another one of those feelings to which no name is given.

And out of all the people he met, almost all had the same title for him ... maybe not as strong as those two little pests who lived with him and whom he paid full attention to ...

All the idiots who gathered around him made him feel that way, indescribable.

As the day came he was thinking about his own life. Those kids weren't going to stay there forever ... nothing is eternal. But where the hell had space for a normal life? Staying here and there with a woman under his arm like the gorilla couple he knew? Or Zura and ikumatsu? No ... none of that seemed natural. Just imagining it made him shiver. The only situation in which he thought to walk around having a normal life was with Ketsuno Ana because he was going to show her off to the world ... after all, it was Ketsuno Ana. But of course it wouldn't be so good in reality after all, He didn't want to burn his wings getting too close to the sun ...and speaking of sun, what time was that?

Looking at the clock, he saw that there were six. He remembered tsukuyo's schedule by chance ... always by chance.

'Believe me, this is the time when I come home.'

After asking what time the hell she stopped working, that's what she answered. He marked her words because it was hard to believe that there were people who enjoyed working so much

He started thinking about things three years ago ... about the woman who had a destiny similar to him. She killed the master herself to protect someone else. What irritated him was perhaps because she was so different from him ... working and working instead of enjoying the life that the master gave her. After thinking so much he understands, her life and his are the same. The difference is that to forget, or rather, to remember that she is alive, she works.

The two were so similar and yet so different. Damn thought that bothered him. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't she make herself more of an idiot? Why it had to be so independent and beautiful? Beautiful ... a soul so pure and clean. Ah, that was a perfect attribute to keep him interested. But in the end it was impossible to keep something with that woman using just that ... he didn't worth it for her. He was weak and coward, afraid to lose those two lying on the couch, afraid of losing the friendship of others and was afraid of losing the life he won after losing everything two times. Starting over was tiring, new house, new goals, all of this is scary. It was already difficult to keep the feelings in place with those people around him. Imagine new sensations and the worst, new obligations.

But among those moments of fear, he wanted to throw everything up when he remembered that she liked him. She liked it enough to understand that he wasn't hers, who the hell gives up what loves to make someone else happy? What was her problem? Cowardice or courage? But after all, he didn't have the right to speak ...was he's fault to make that so clear , oh look! He thought, we are the same after all.

-maybe today she changes her mind and decides to say she loves me?

It would never happen. Otae and kyuubei were the first to say what he already knew. He was the one who must say he loved her or not. But he couldn't. First because he wasn't going to destroy her heart saying he didn't love her and secondly because he didn't like lying. It was not easy as with Sachan, that is a good woman (in many ways) but dosent work with him. Worse, she knew it and continued to insist.

Tsukuyo no, it was her and that damned hope... so he had to scream that she shouldn't have hope for a no future like him, but scream what she already knew?

Call to tell that you love her and can't live without the smell of lavender and cigarettes. That she's perfect for you in every detail. That she completes you.

Damn ... she knows. And yet she continues to look with those eyes. Eyes full of love and concern, even with a hard mouth to give cruel answers. Maybe he should call and say it. Call now!

Call and tell her to forget you, not to show up! That you can't love her and she needs to move on

What a mess...

What kind of feeling is that? As he thought again, it had no name, no shape. Where does he get these thoughts from?

Finally he picked up the phone and dialed. he thought of the bullshit he was doing on the first touch. Twisting the telephone cord sitting on the chair in the office, he began to murmur: 'Kestuno Ana I'm not cheating on you', 'believe me she's just a friend', 'this thing in my chest isn't what you thinking', 'I haven't seen her for months, I haven't spoken to her ... I'm the crooked savior of her home, I need to see how things are going', 'it doesn't mean betrayal, right?'

Four rings and no one answered. 'ah I knew ... she must have slept it, in fact it was what I should do too'

-Hello?

Everything went white. For a moment he forgot how to answer a phone. he heard the serious voice of the guardian of yoshiwara

-ham ... it's me. Is everything okay out there?

-gintoki is that you?

-Of course, did you think it was the joestar jotaro or something?

-Is this time to call? Have you looked at your watch? When was the last time you woke up so early in life?

What a regret.

-I thought something had happened, you ungrateful bitch

-What the hell would have happened that I couldn't have called the next day ?! You goddamned hollow head!

-My phone rang and I'm just checking, your stupid! -Said gintoki

All lies, the most poorly told. And she knew, again, she knew. She couldn't even hide the excitement of hearing after a night of patrol the voice of the man she loved most in the world.

-Well, it wasn't me... but I thank you for your concern. But there's nothing here that I can't handle. Unless a new yato king appears I don't need your services

-you are really stupid and boring! You will die unmarried! Damn time I called

-grumpy! Damn time I answered!

After a few seconds of silence gintoki was preparing to hang up when tsukuyo interrupted:

-but is everything really okay? Kagura and Shinpachi, are you all okay?

That was what destroyed him. She was like that, tough and sweet ... not much different from the others but something in her gentle way to say those things, how does she do that?

-yea. All right

-How about you? Is everything really okay?

Tsukuyo was never able to disguise it, she wanted to receive that call so much that it seemed like a dream. She was so happy to see that Gintoki remembered the time when she came home ... even though were it by chance. She thanked the universe and begged the man to continue the conversation

-Well, I had a weird dream ...

From that point on, the conversation lasted until the sun started to heat everything up again, until just before Shinpachi opened his eyes and saw the phone off the hook while gintoki slept on the desk. The desperation for the high bill made him yell at Gintoki and force him showering and getting ready, it was too late and they had promised to fix a roof at 11. Gintoki complained but was completely happy to have talked to tsukuyo. The two fell asleep hanging from the phone and it made them feel young again, as if for a moment everything was possible.

After all, that's what they were. The relationship between Gintoki and Tsukuyo might never leave the paper, there would never be room for a normal life ... but what was normal for them anyway? So it was enough. This enormous feeling of joy filled and satisfied him. They never meant to be something because they were already everything for each other.

....

-Tsukuyo, Thank you for love me

-Thank you for letting me love you

__________

This was the most difficult prompt for me, I don't know why...I've tryed everything...edits, fanarts, comic. None of this managed to transmit my feels abou it. I'll make some fanart for the long prompt but, thats it!

#gintama #gintsuweek #gintsuweek 2021 #Tsukuyo #gintsu #gintoki #fanfic #otp

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

Always By Your Side

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes.

“If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.”

“That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a semi-contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred.

(Disclaimer: THIS IS THE ONLY BAD PARENT!BRUCE FIC I WILL EVER WRITE OKAY I SWEAR I ALWAYS AVOID THOSE KINDS OF FICS BUT I’M SALTY THAT THEY NEVER ADDRESSED BRUCE PUNCHING TIM IN COMICS SO I HAD TO DO IT MYSELF.)

It doesn’t take long to break into Tim’s apartment. Record time, actually. In less than ten minutes Jason is sliding up the window to Tim’s kitchen and climbing over the sill, easy peasy. He should really talk to the replacement about his lack of security against fellow batkids. “Timbo?” he calls, closing the window and re-locking it. “You here?” He’d better have the right place. It’s so hard keeping track of everyone’s safehouses these days, and Jason is not eager for a repeat of what happened the last time he got it wrong. That old lady looked scared to death when Jason crawled in through the air duct, covered in blood that was only thirty percent his own. (The lady was super understanding when he explained the situation. She even fixed up his stab wound with her sewing kit and made him some freshly squeezed lemonade. Jason drops by every couple of weeks to check in on her and her cats.) But Tim is the priority now. “Come out, come out, you little shit.” Jason crosses the kitchen toward the living room, then stops and backtracks. He opens the fridge for a beer, momentarily forgetting that the kid is a hopeless health nut. Jason resigns himself to a package of deli ham only two days past the expiration date. It smells fine, so it must be safe to eat, right? Of all Tim’s apartments, this one is by and far the nicest, barring the expired deli meats and un-Jason-proof security system. The living room is pristine with white sofas and a glass coffee table, making the whole setup vibe more like a hotel suite than an actual home. Definitely not Jason-proof. He sits right in the middle of the fancy sofa, kicking off his boots. “If you get mud on my carpet, you’re cleaning it up.”

Jason looks up at Tim in the doorway and grins. “Don’t I always?” The kid looks horrible, full offense. Tim is wearing one of Dick’s old Hudson University sweatshirts which just about swallows him, hanging a full inch over where his fingertips end. His hair is tied up in the messiest bun Jason has ever seen, and there’s a purple welt on his chin big enough that a helicopter could use it for a landing pad. His lip is swollen, blood still crusted over where Tim’s teeth must have torn it open on impact. Big yikes. “If you’re here to raid my fridge, then you already know it’s bad pickings. I haven’t been shopping in weeks.” “That’s not why I’m here, actually.” Not the only reason, at least. Multitasking is key when you’re a contract killer who needs Sundays free for tea time with Alfred. “Just leave whatever data you have here and I’ll look it over in the morning.” “Again, not why I’m here.” “Then can you just tell me whatever it is so I can go back to bed?” It’s five in the afternoon. “Well, jeez, kid. You don’t have to rush me out the door.” Tim’s eyes flit to the ground and stay there, giving the impression of a puppy put in his place. “Sorry.” Jason eyes Tim carefully. He takes in the timid stance, the way Tim wrings and twists the sleeve of his sweatshirt until it’s stretched beyond saving. He clearly hasn’t showered or even bothered tending to his face, like keeping the wound fresh is his way of punishing himself. “You doing okay?” “Fine, why?” “Because you look like shit, that’s why.” “It’s been a hectic few days. I’ve been meaning to crash for hours.” “How about that bruise you got there? Looks nasty.” Tim touches the bruise as if he forgot it was there, biting back a wince. “It’s fine. I got it on patrol and haven’t gotten around to icing it yet.” “Must have been a big guy to do that kind of damage.” Tim’s eyes narrow. Jason eats his ham, a picture of innocence. “If you’re trying to get me to circle around and ask you about your problems, then I’m sorry, but I’m really not in the mood to play therapist tonight. You can stay here as long as you want, but I’m going to bed.” He turns and starts toward his bedroom. “You’re really not going to tell me who gave you that bruise?” Tim stops, a shudder running down his spine. He doesn’t turn, not yet. “Did Barbara tell you?” “I can’t believe you didn’t. What, did you think this would all go away if you just kept quiet about it?” “There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing happened.” “My ass nothing happened. Bruce hit you last night. He hit you over nothing.” Tim whirls around, fists clenched. “So? I get hit all the time. Am I supposed to have a breakdown every time someone punches me?” “Getting hit by a criminal and getting hit by your dad are not the same thing, and you know it.” “I’m a big boy, Jason. I can handle it.” Jason leans forward, forgetting all about his rancid ham. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?” “Oh, give me a break—” “Hey. The adult is talking now. Our father nearly shattered your jaw a few hours ago and here you are, hiding from him like it was your fault.” Not that Jason blames him for not wanting to be near the manor after what happened; he wouldn’t either if he were in Tim’s place. Hell, he was in Tim’s place. “You weren’t there, Jay. You have no idea what happened.” “Oh, yeah? Enlighten me, then. What gives that asshole the right to put his hands on you?” “The fact that I shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place! Bruce was dealing with enough as it was without me making it worse.” “Only if you call trying to help someone ‘making things worse.’ From what Babs told me, you didn’t do Jack shit to deserve what he did.” “I don’t care what Barbara told you. I was there, I know what I did wrong, and I’ve accepted that.” “Except you did nothing wrong.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tim’s voice is raised, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see how upset Bruce was. He wasn’t himself. I should have seen that and backed off, but I didn’t. He was hurting and angry, and...I provoked him. It was my own fault.” “Do you have any idea how insane you sound? You tried to help him, and he punched you in the face for it. I know you’ve dealt with this exact situation a million times, you know the protocol.” Tim rolls his eyes. “This is completely different.” “Why? Because you’re not a minor? Because Bruce isn’t your father? Or maybe because you threw the first punch? Oh, wait. None of those are fucking true.” “What do you want from me? Do you want me to start crying, call up child services and tell them that my adoptive father gave me a little bruise because I was being insubordinate while we were all dressed as vigilantes? Will that magically ease your conscience?” “I want you to stop fucking covering for him,” Jason says. “You know that there’s no excuse for a parent hurting their child.” “I’m not a child!” “Sorry to break it to you, pal, but you fucking are! And Bruce? He’s your father. It doesn’t matter if you’re twelve or seventeen or thirty—his job is to be a fucking parent to you. And instead he punched you so hard Babs said you were unconscious for a good thirty seconds.” Tim crosses his arms and leans on the wall. He doesn’t try to come closer or sit on any of the furniture, keeping his distance from Jason. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe those rules apply to normal people, but we’re different. Violence and anger, that’s how this family communicates. Hell, Bruce and I spar all the time and you’ve never lectured me about it being abuse until now.” Jason runs a hand over his face, thoroughly done with this shit. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to rationalize this.” “Because it’s a rational thing!” “Is it?” “Yes.” “Would you ever hit him?” “It wouldn’t be the first time.” “No, I’m not talking sparring or some stupid teenage angst-fueled outburst. I’m asking if you, Tim Drake, would ever intentionally hurt Bruce in a way that would do damage. Even if he did something shitty to deserve it. Would you hurt him?” Tim hesitates. He bites his swollen lip. “I might. If I were really angry.” “We both know that’s bullshit. The guy’s got a hundred pounds on you and your hand would probably shatter if you tried to sock him in the face, but you still wouldn’t hurt him.” “So?” “So, he knows you’re a twig and he beat the shit out of you anyway. That’s not fucking okay.” “It wasn’t on purpose,” Tim says, but he’s losing momentum by the second. He looks years too tired for this conversation as it is. “It was...instinct. A spur-of-the-moment reaction. It’s not—I mean, he’s Bruce. He would never hurt us intentionally.” “He already did.” “And I’m perfectly fine. It’s not like he punched Damian or Cass, just me. He knew I could take it, and he was right. I’m fine. This bruise will heal up in a couple days, and then we can all forget it ever happened.” “I won’t.” “Why not? Why are you being so goddamn uptight about this? It has nothing to do with you, anyway.” Jason can feel his eyes smolder Lazarus green as he surges forward and hisses, “It has everything to do with me.” Tim flinches. It’s not major, barely even counts as a real flinch, but it happens. Tim flinches away from Jason, and the anger dissipates as quickly as it came. Jesus, what did Bruce do to this kid? Jason sits back, takes a breath, tries to make his voice gentler. “Bruce hurt me too, okay?” Tim’s expression doesn’t change but for a twinge of his eyebrows. “It was a misunderstanding, but...he hurt me. Badly. I was out of commission for two fucking months. Probably would have died if it hadn’t been for Roy.” That gets a reaction. Tim’s mouth drops open and he flounders for a moment, like he can’t put the two things together. Bruce attacking Jason? No results. Does not compute. “What—why would he do that?” “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that, as irritating as you are, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Like he has any right to be saying this. Tim still has the scar on his neck from when Jason’s brains were made of gruel. “Not by a parent. Not by someone you’re supposed to trust. So this is me looking out for you, alright?” Jason reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a crumpled paper. “I know you’ve got your own setup for when you need time away from the manor, but these are all of my addresses and phone numbers. If something like this happens again, I want you to call me.” Tim takes the paper but protests, “It’s okay, really. I don’t need—” “Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to be coddled. I get it. But keep it anyway. And if you start feeling unsafe at the manor, you call me and I’ll take care of it. I already gave Damian, Cass, and Duke copies too. Just...look out for yourself, alright? All of you. Look out for each other.” Tim folds up the paper and slips it into his back pocket. “What about you?” “The old man and I are…” That’s a whole other can of worms Jason really isn’t in the mood to unpack right now. “It’s still rocky between us. I’m keeping my distance. But for you guys, I don’t care. If one of you needs help, I’ll be there. Got it?” Tim blinks, and lucky for him, Jason is courteous enough not to make fun of the tears he is clearly holding back. “Thanks, Jay.”

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theficplug · 4 years

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𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 ℑ𝔫 𝔄 𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢 - 𝔒𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯 𝔇𝔦𝔞𝔷

Warnings: violence maybe ? none yet really (but i mean it’s my writing so yall know smut is coming lol so 18+)

Oscar Diaz x black reader

You slowly open one eye to look at the clock on your nightstand reading 2:43 in the morning. At this time of night you knew it could only be one person.

You quickly threw on your cobalt blue robe accented with the floral pattern over your sweats and bralette and padded through your dark decent sized studio apartment towards the loud wrapping at your door.

"Rough night?" you ask as you give the battered man standing in your doorway a small smile to mask the feeling of worry and dread sitting in the pit of your stomach while taking in all of his wounds.

“If I knew you were coming I would’ve worn something better than this big ass bonnet and old sweats.” you say trying to ease the tension as you reach out for him.

His usual plump lips were slightly busted and the freshly formed bruises were beginning to take shape onto his cheekbone. Your eyes wander to his side and you notice that there must be a deeper wound soaking onto the now crimson stained once white vest top.

You place his arm over your shoulders and let him lean into you as you help him inside and onto your kitchen table before rushing to the bathroom to grab supplies and towels.

To say that you were a stranger to putting Oscar back together when he fell apart would be a lie.

Since you two were younger you’d always been the one to grab an ice pack for him from the nurse’s office when he’d get into it with the kids on the yard over something they’d say to you that he didn’t like. Or like the time you were helping him up off the ground when he was first initiated. That was the first time you’d ever been that angry and sad in your life.

It was hard for you to accept at first. Your family came from rivaling parts of town, but a few wrong decisions and moves from your family and you ended up living across the street from Oscar. Your father and his father decided over the years that they had one common ground. Their common ground was to protect the block so they came up with a sort of truce if you could call it that. Down the line Oscar’s father ended up going to prison and basically all hell broke loose.

Life changed when Oscar had to step up and eventually become Spooky and you had to make a decision to leave Freeridge to later come back and help. You left for university a few towns over to become a doctor. It took a lot of years of discipline in medical school and a lot of all-nighters, but here you were back in Freeridge to give a voice to black women in the medical field after noticing black mothers were dying during and after childbirth at an alarming rate (not being taken seriously by their non-black doctors usually played a huge part in this statistic).

"I've seen better days." he says, giving you a half hearted chuckle and you nod along listening to his voice but his tired and purple-y pink eyes spoke louder than his words.

This was him. He never said much, not even the day you two met in middle school.

Flashback

You just wouldn’t stop talking when you walked over to him sitting by himself under a tree eating his own food. You even asked him if he liked anime and let him watch Inuyasha on your ipod.

“You make your own lunch?” you would ask him as he’d nod and take the bag out of his backpack.

“Yeah, I ain’t got nobody to do all the shit like on the shows where they have pancakes waiting on the counter for breakfast. And like the brown paper lunch bag with the ham sandwich and apple slices in it or whatever they put in it. And I don’t like the stuff they serve. I wake up early anyways so I just make my own shit and something for Cesar to eat in the mornings.” he says laughing and laying out the little containers on his backpack one with mac and cheese in it and another with what seems like a hamburger patty.

“I get you. My parents work a lot to try to pay off some of my fathers “expenses” as they put it so. I usually just get whatever nasty food they’re serving up in the caf.” you say as you snuggle in next to him and pull open your chocolate milk carton.

Ever since then you two met everyday under that tree in the courtyard during lunchtime. He eventually started bringing a container for you too so that you could eat “something good for once” as he would say.

His intentions were always good at heart but they at times were clouded by his rage.

He wouldn’t, almost as if he couldn’t, let himself feel the hurt and process the trauma. He didn’t have the time to process it all because he was always thinking of his next move for himself and for Cesar.

His father left and his mother was never around as you learned quickly when you’d spend hours at a time at his home sometimes while your parents were off taking care of business. It was Oscar doing the grocery shopping, making sure Cesar never fell behind with his homework and classwork, and that he knew that he was loved.

He was left behind to take care of his own business. You met Cesar pretty early on when he’d chase you around with random beetles he’d find in the yard and put in requests for you to bring him Gogurts and m&ms from your house. He liked you instantly and took it rather hard when you left for uni.

You offered to take them both with you, but “Spooky” had already built a “life” for himself that Oscar didn’t get to walk away from.

Present

You move around the kitchen to sterilize all of your supplies and lay them on the table next to him before cutting the shirt open to take a look at how deeply the weapon seared into him.

Your eyes moved up his body following the patterns of the bruises, cuts, and scrapes before meeting his eyes. You looked at you for a moment before looking away from your gaze and nodding to give you the okay to do what you have to do to fix him up.

You knew that it was better to never ask questions about his escapades.Which was fine because you weren’t sure if you ever wanted the real answer. It was almost a routine for him to come visit you from time to time. Whether it was to hook-up or just because he needed someone to talk to because it seemed like he could trust no one besides you, Cesar, and Jose.

He stopped coming around after you told him you found someone. Safe to say that someone didn’t give a reason as to why he didn’t want to date you anymore after only 3 weeks and tried to avoid eye contact with you at the clinic.

You pour him a shot before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and proceeding with cleaning and closing up the deepest wound. You bandage the first one before moving onto the rest.

“Duele como una perra (hurts like a bitch).” he groans before you give him a quiet “i know” and press another gentle kiss to his lips.

Around an hour later you were in bed with him after ordering food for the both of you. Your fingers tracing over his temples softly trying to get him to fall asleep, but he insisted on staying up and catching up with you for the last month when you haven’t had a chance to talk. More so kissing on you and loving on you when he should be resting.

“You’re not Spooky to me, you know. You’re still the same person who ditched so you didn’t have to participate in dissection day. You’re still the same person who taught me what the difference between a prawn and a shrimp. I mean I’m not blind to the fact that things have changed. Cesar calls me from time to time. I know what’s going on. I’m just saying, let’s go. Let’s leave. Let’s start over. Don’t you want that? We can go to Hawaii or Canada. Somewhere we can just start over. We could convince them that you’ve died from these wounds and they won’t even look for you.You know I can make it happen. I’ll still practice and you can carve a new life for you and for Cesar.” you say as you run your fingers over his chest.

He stops kissing on your neck to look at you for a moment considering that your impulsive plan might actually work before shaking his head.

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it. You know this isn’t what I wanted, but I knew that eventually it’d catch up with me. I just didn’t want Cesar wrapped up in all of this bullshit. I don’t know. Maybe it could work. But you know if this goes bad-” he says trailing off and you give him a quiet “i know” before wiping at a stray tear from his cheek.

You wrap your arms around him and slide your hand down to rest on his stomach gently.

“I’ve got something for you.” you say quietly before moving his hand from your thigh and reaching into the nightstand

“Maybe this will finalize your decision, Oscar.” you speak softly while placing the ultrasound in his hand and watch as his expressive eyebrows scrunch before it dawns on him.

He looks from you to the apricot shaped grey blob on the photo and back to you while nodding.

“I knew it. I knew something was different about you this time. Your skin is glowing more. You’ve got a different energy.” he says as he leans up wincing at the pain and wraps his arms around you to the best of his ability without aggravating the wound on his side.

“ I wanted to wait until I knew for sure before I told you. 9 weeks today. Can you believe it? That’s why we have to do this. You deserve happiness and peace too Oscar. I can see you with your own restaurant. You changing lives by donating a portion of your food to those in need. Me with my practice for women of colour. We could even get Cesar in university or a trade school. Whatever he’d want to do. He knows he has my full support.” you plead to him as you trace over his cheekbone and take his hands into yours.

“Alright but we gotta do this precisely. There’s no room for mistakes-” .

@chaneajoyyy @blackmissfrizzle @theogbadbitch @spookys-girl @ceo-of-baby @heybriheyyy @sweetpeachjones @mbakuwife @wholelotta-melanin @ambitionwood @bigchoose @teardropzih @theesotericqueen @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67 @dasia21 @sinfully-dope @love17us @amyhennessyhouse

(lemme know if i missed anybody for the tag list. i know this intro is long as hell but if yall like it i’ll keep writing on this one lol)

#spooky x reader #oscar diaz #spooky diaz #oscar omb #on my block

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steponmepinkjun · 3 years

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OMGGGG and here i thought i couldn't love you moreeee 🥺🥺🥺

im a plus size (TALL) girlie too

ITS LITERALLY THREE-DIMENSIONALLY HARD TO FIND CLOTHING FOR USSSSS AAAAAAA

Deadass the only oversized thing i have on me are my BIG ASS (and old teheh) SOCKS

yes one could say they're stretched out BUT ITS THE LEWK 😌

BIIIIITCH IM A BIG FUCKIN TALL BITCH TOO!!!!! CAN'T EVEN FIND LEGGINGS FOR A BITCH CAUSE ON MY LONG ASS LEGS THEY'RE SHORT AS BIKE SHORTS 😭😭😭😭 it's hard out here for a SLW I s2g 😂😭

Like I s2g, I always knew the fashion industry was bullshit but I feel like it's actually gotten worse since the general public's mental image of a plus size woman is now just a BBL body, places will claim they sell plus sizes and then give me a 2x hip with a size 6 waist like BITCH!!! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!! When I say that I'm built like Danny Devito, I AINT JOKIN, BITCH. I GOT A BIG OL BELLY, HUGE FUCKIN TIDDIES DOWN TO MY KNEES, NO ASS, NO THIGHS, NO HIPS, AND ARMS LIKE CHRISTMAS HAMS. THIS AINT A GAME. I'm sittin here tryna find a single pair of jean shorts that come in a 5x or some shit 😩

I just want the kind of cute shit all the lil girlies get to wear. The throwback croptops, the lil dresses, the sweater sets n the cute skirts, all that shit but in MY SIZE. But it just doesn't exist. Straight size girls get to look like they just walked out of Totally Spies for like $30 an outfit, meanwhile we get the same ugly floral print maxi dress every season for $80 a pop 😭 girl when I tell you I am FED UP asf.

So if anyone has any recs for places that have cute clothes for us big bitches, that aren't $100 for a single tired oversized tee, have cute UPDATED AND MODERN fits, please help a bitch out 😭😭😭😭😭😭 cause I am STRUGGLING YALL. I JUST WANNA GO TO THE ZOO BUT I OWN ONE SHIRT THAT FITS ME. HALP YALL

#Suspiciously Large Woman shoutout #SHOUTOUT TO MY BIG GIRLS #PLEASE HELP A BITCH OUT IM BEGGIN YOUUUU #I'M POOR AND FAT PLEASE HELP MY ASS OUT

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wildshub · 3 years

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WHO: The Twilight of Adams WHAT: The boys head over to the cliff to turn on the repaired radio, hoping to get into contact with someone who can rescue them. WHEN: Day 2 NOTE: For future reference.

Callum Callum would rather hike to the cliff and back with broken legs twenty times over than do it once with all of the other boys from the plane. Between two of the boys having to be carried and Warren teaching them all a song about how English was his favorite subject the entire way there, the Canadian felt thisclose to offing himself. The only thing keeping Callum from doing so was knowing that when they reached the cliff, they could finally turn the radio on. The radio that was now all fixed thanks to Jorts and JJ. “Yo, hey!” He called out to Sebastian when he first caught a glimpse of the boy and the fire they'd started. “They fixed the antenna. Let’s get this thing going." He practically yanked Warren off of Blue's back and dragged him over to Sebastian once they reached their destination. Not even bothering to ask Warren if he could touch his bag, Callum unzipped it and got the radio out, showing it off to Sebastian like it was the Stanley fucking Cup. "The twerps fucking did it."

Sebastian Sebastian could have waved at Callum, he could have given him any more of a greeting than the simple nod of acknowledgement that he did but he wasn't trying to be hella gay or anything, so alas, he remained fairly static. "Shit, you're kidding me," he found it hard to believe that Jorts could accomplish anything other than being chronically annoying but he didn't say that, instead he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of success, as limited as it was. "Wait, wait, wait, before we go too crazy, we need a strat," he instructed with his hands out in front of him, warning the other boys. "You said we've got limited battery on this thing- we don't want to waste it stuttering like idiots. We need to know how we're gonna handle the frequency and we need to know what we're gonna say and we need to know it by heart before we even touch that on button,"

Lukas "Yo, the fuck, dude, " Lukas objected half-assed-ly as he witnessed Callum pull Warren from Blue's back and basically dragged him over to Sebastian and the fire like they were about to sacrifice the Nordic cripple. Though he'd stuck towards the back of the group the hike up, now shit seemed to be happening he pushed the pace to catch up. Nudging Blue on the arm as he passed, he asked " You good? " with raised brow, referencing the bullshit Callum was on. But he didn't linger long, making his way to Thing 1 and Thing 2 but on steroids before they ruined his whole day of work on that stupid radio. " Bro, just because you couldn't even think to turn the thing on doesn't make the rest of us Stephen Hawking or whatever the fuck, " He said, announcing his presence with dry tone. He cast a glance to Warren, just to make sure the fucker hadn't lost a leg in the last thirty seconds thanks to Callum and his island famous manners. " If we're lucky, and, really fucking stupid lucky, " he was trying his best to be serious but even with his best efforts he still sounded kind of like he was taking the piss, " the frequency hasn't moved far from whatever channel it was on to begin with. But, it was in the ocean, " and Callum basically dry humped it all night, " so chances aren't looking too hot. Whatever we say it's gotta be short enough that we can say it, wait a few seconds on that channel for response, then move on without wasting a fuckload of battery. "

Sawyer With an extra hundred-and-some pounds on Sawyer’s back, the hike up the cliff had been a bitch on his ankle. But it was considerably less damage than Liam would’ve done if he’d tried to climb up on his own – and Lord knew they needed all the manpower they could get if they were stuck here any longer than a couple nights. After letting him down, Sawyer wandered over to where the rest of the group had congregated, clapping Canada on the shoulder and standing on his tiptoes to get a good look at the radio. "Shame we can't tap into a police frequency," he said. That would be his first try if a radio happened to wash up onshore with its batteries still intact. "How about our plane number, the number of guys stranded here, and, uh...shit, to bring us some fuckin' life rafts or somethin'."

Liam while liam was extremely grateful that sawyer offered to carry him up to the cliff, he couldn't help the feeling of guilt the entire way. he may be the shortest guy out of the group, but he was still pretty stocky and muscular. lukas probably weighed less than him. but thankfully they made it and the other boy let him down, liam hopping a few times before getting steady on his feet, making sure to not put too much pressure on his bad leg. "does anyone remember the plane number?" he spoke up, feeling like he was going to be shot with a bunch of sass from the meaner members of the group. "but uh, yeah, definitely say how many of us are here..."

Blue blue nodded in response as people check in on him, and he didnt mind shooing them off but the truth was carrying warren was tiring. he leaned against a tree, catching his breath while watching the others regroup, rallying around the radio. "is there like....a global mayday code?" his words came between breaths, occassionally glsncing around. "how many of us are injured too maybe....?"

Callum Callum shrugged the Hick's hand off of his shoulder, shooting him a clear dude, the fuck? look. "Who even remembers a plane number?" He pointed out. "Does anyone know it?" A question for the rest of the huddle. "Number of guys is good. And the injured thing too." He gave Blue props in the form of a nod for that. "But global mayday code? So like what, 911?" Nothing else came to mind.

Sebastian Sebastian listened to the others, some more carefully than others. "I don't think we need to waste time talking about who's injured and who's not, nobody's dying and they'll figure it out when they get there," he suggested, though the number of people in need of rescue was definitely worth mentioning. "Nah, 911 is just the U.S. bro, there's another one for international emergencies but that's on cell phones. Radios are a whole different ball game, it doesn't work like a dial-in service"

Liam liam froze for a second as everyone started talking over each other to figure out the best way to go about this. he always had a bad habit of freezing in stressful situations, and this was about as stressful as it could get. but after some talk about 911, he tried to find his voice and speak up. "i'm pretty sure you just say, like, mayday three times or something. the other people will figure it out. you don't need a code. at least that's what they do in movies."

Lukas Lukas didn't know why telling whoever might be listening how many were injured was necessary at all but maybe they would edit before the decided on a final message. For the most part he stayed quiet (shockingly) while ideas were thrown around, just watching the two meatheads with the radio. Afraid they might get a little too riled up and break the thing, like he hadn't been basically tossing it around that very morning. He didn't know the flight number, even though his mother had said it a million and one times just yesterday, but Lukas did know an international mayday code. " Like, SOS? " He asked, looking to the group, surely these dumb motherfuckers didn't mean that and not be able to think of it. " That's the international distress code, " or if it wasn't technically, at least anyone on a boat or plane out there would know what the fuck it was.

Blue as he sat beside his pal liam, he listened in, but looked to sky like he'd see a helicoptor and could say nevermind to all this. "so..sos, uh...what 9 stranded...mayday?" it wasnt like he expected his word to make an impact but he has hoped he could organize all this before having to carry warren back down.

Sawyer Sawyer feigned hurt when Callum shrugged his hand off, rolling his lips together to stifle a chuckle when he looked away again. He couldn’t see shit with everyone huddled together like this, so he opted to step back from the group and poke a rock around with his toe. “It don’t work like a GPS,” he interjected, “so nobody’s gonna know what the hell we’re talkin’ about if we just go in with a stress signal. Flight number’s our best bet of being located, with the name of the island we were s'posed to land on second.”

Sebastian Sebastian found himself getting increasingly frustrated with the group he'd unfortunately become a part of by way of disaster. "That's a fucking morse code distress signal- not a stress signal and it's for when you don't have a radio, this is different," his voice became a little harsher as he continued. "Yes, you say mayday, we got that part sorted, okay, we need to tune into a frequency so that we're actually saying it to somebody that can actually do something about our situation and not some fucking ninety year old ham radio loser in Iowa trying to make a friend," he explained. "-but you're right. We need flight number or anybody with a unique enough name. I'm Sebastian Claude Sergeant," he announced, though he wasn't convinced it was unique enough. "Blue, Dash- those your legal names? You're probably our best bet if so unless your last names are Smith,"

Sawyer Sawyer raised his hand, still kicking a rock around. "I got a criminal record."

Warren For once, this conversation got interesting to him. He turned to Sawyer. "That's sexy. For what?"

Sebastian Sebastian turned to Sawyer suddenly at the revelation, "What the fuck?" perhaps it was the suddenness of the statement or perhaps it was the fact itself but either way, it had surprised Sebastian in that moment. "Okay, you're out, nobody's coming for you," he decided, as if a criminal record immediately made Sawyer disposable, regardless of what it was for. "Shut up, Von Trapp, now is not the time," he spat at Warren a moment later, "Names, who has a good one," he reminded the group.

Blue blue was ready to responde but hearing sebastian's full name caught him off guard. "word? ok. blue barrowcliffe. legal name." he offered an understanding look to sawyer, not based on shared experience but moreso on wanting sawyer to feel alright. unless he murdered someone.

Sawyer "Hotwirin' a 1500," he replied, winking and clicking his tongue. "Meanin'~" Sawyer spun around on his foot. "They can legally look me up in state records. You got state records in your name, Claude?"

Liam liam's eyes widened when sawyer say that out of nowhere. of course that annoyed sebastian and the two went at each other. liam just looked down at his feet and mumbled to himself, "i do." not that anyone asked him. but he just hated how heated everything was getting and wasn't really thinking.

Sebastian Sebastian did not, for a second like being referred to by his middle name, especially not with such a facetious fucking tone from Deliverance. "Yeah, cowboy, I got a birth certificate, a social security number, enrollment in school, my car is registered, I've got medical records- do you want me to continue, genius?" he asked bitterly before Liam piped up. "You do what, bro? If you've got something to say, use your words,"

Lukas " It's a radio thing, dude, " Lukas said, mainly just to be contrary to Sebastian but he was also fairly certain he was right. He snorted a laugh when Sebastian revealed his middle name, but didn't risk saying anything about it. The snort was enough to let Gigantor know that it sounded fucking stupid. Looking to Sawyer when he revealed his criminal record, he didn't think now was the time to bring up his own. And plus, high school drug dealing didn't really compare to auto theft. But, it was still a good idea. " Yo, that's smart. " He complimented, though Liam's confession was far more surprising. Unlike Sebastian he could put together context clues. " A criminal record? Does it beat auto theft? " He asked, not really able to imagine short king doing anything besides maybe some smoking. " I'm thinking it's between Big Blue and GTA right now, " no one cares what you're thinking, Lukas.

Liam he looked up when sebastian addressed him, not realizing anyone heard him. "nothing," he said quietly, deciding to stay quiet for the rest of the time.

Callum "Okay, so... fuck." He shook his head, keeping up with that entire exchange made his brain feel like mush. "We'll use Blue's name, mention how many of us are here and... shit, really does no one remember the plane number?"

Blue blues proximity allowed him another front row view to liam’s emotions and he gave him a soft pat on the back. while he hadn’t wanted to rock claude’s boat, he felt protective to the guys he was so critical of. "hey, we're getting sidetracked. let’s agree on a message and get home. I domt know the plane number or the pilot’s name.....what fucking company even set this retreat up?"

Liam "no, it does," he said to lukas when he asked, feeling like he was just wasting everyone's time anytime he spoke. he glanced over to blue and gave him a small smile when he tried to comfort him. "it was the twilight of adam," he remembers because his lawyer kept repeating it to the judge as if it was some church thing to rehabilitate him.

Warren Warren was never one for idle moments. He was the type of person who hated being still for too long. Nothing bored him like conversations that seemed to go nowhere. He was a person of action. The only way he could tolerate another minute of these boys not recalling information and sharing their gay middle names was if he was drunk, and unfortunately, there was not a drop of Dom Perignon Brut in him. He sighed. "Okay, you know what–" He had a lot of energy saved up from being carried up here. He could do this. He hopped over and snatched the radio out of Callum's hands, making quick work of getting away by prancing over to the ledge where he knew everyone would be careful around him. He turned the radio on. "Mayday, mayday, 911, this is Blue Cliffebarrel, I'm on an unknown island with 15 other boys and one of us have a criminal record, over."

Lukas Maybe they all should have expected Warren to be the one to cause trouble, but it certainly surprised Lukas when he made a grab for the radio, succeeded, and then hobbled away to the edge of the cliff before anyone could do anything about it. " What the fuck, " he reacted, more statement than question but it quickly got more heated when the cripple started talking " Dude! " He raced over, though Warren's plan worked and he slowed down when he got close to the edge. " Did you not hear any of that shit about the battery? " He snatched the walkie out of his hands, feeling a lot better now he had it rather than Warren or either of the Hulk impersonators. " And none of that even made any fucking sense, if anyone heard that they're just gonna think we're some idiot kids fucking around. " He said irritably, turning the thing back off. Too be fair, they were some idiot kids but he thought they were trying their best not to fuck around.

Sebastian Sebastian's patience had been wearing thing, needless to say. Not that it had been particularly in tact even before the other boys had started squawking at each other. When Warren snatched the radio, however, regardless of his precarious position, Sebastian launched. "Are you fucking kidding me? Do you want to fucking die today? You said nothing- nothing of any value and nobody understands your goddamn hurdy durdy bullshit anyway," his was easily the most offensive of all the accents on the island in Sebastian's firm opinion. He couldn't believe he was in agreement with Jorts but for the first and perhaps the last time, Jorts was right, this was not the time to fuck around and he was glad the radio was turned off again. "Thank you" he offered the smaller boy genuinely, slightly relieved that the radio was seemingly in the hands of somebody that was taking this shit seriously now.

Warren "I said everything you all were talking about," Warren launched into his own defense as the walkie was snatched away from him. " Did I miss anything?" He asked the group, not waiting around for their answers. "I didn't miss a beat!" And then of course, Sebastian had to go off on him because if he didn't go off on someone every hour, his penis would shrink in size and that clearly couldn't happen. "Oh fuck off, Claude. Je m'en fous, frère. Coller l'antenne dans ton cul! Vous vous sentirez mieux."

Sawyer Right. Sawyer didn't speak French, but those sounded enough like fighting words for him to step between Claudia and the angry little Swedish man, putting a sizable distance between them. "Yeah, alright, oui oui. Last thing we need is to start fightin' with each other, so let's just...re-calibrate. Curly can take it from here, yeah?"

Sebastian Sebastian squared his shoulders at Warren's squealing, "Yeah you missed the part where you did anything fucking useful- Barrel-cliff, are you fucking kidding me?" he had registered it the first time but reminded of the mistake, he fired up all over again. Then came yet another Claude jab, "Call me Claude one more fucking time, I dare you, I'll hit you so goddamn hard you'll have to learn to speak French without teeth," he warned, whether Warren was on the cliff or not didn't matter much to Sebastian when his patience was being tested. He inhaled sharply at Sawyer's advice and nodded his head, "Yeah," he agreed, cracking the knuckles of one hand in his palm, "Back to square one,"

Lukas Ask him an hour ago if Lukas ever thought him and Sebastian would be on the same side of an argument Lukas would have made a fart noise in response. But now look at them, Lukas was having to hold back another Claude comment after he was thanked. Hyper aware of the cliff edge seeing as Claude was basically shaking Warren over it he took a few steps back towards the group and the fire. " Yeah, " He confirmed, looking up when Sawyer spoke. He actually didn't want this responsibility but he did not trust any of these idiots with it, not even the idiots he liked, so it had to fall to him. " So, " he started, running over all the suggestions from before Warren's interjection in his head. " Mayday, flight number, Twilight of Adam. How many of us there are, and a name they can look up easily. " He listed the things off, counting them on his fingers and conveniently leaving out the ones he thought were dumb. " That it? " He asked the group, letting it sit for a beat before he brought up the point Callum had just before. " Does anyone have any idea of the flight number? " Because he sure as fuck didn't.

JJ with all the bickering in the air, Jacob got lost in thought trying to figure out if the geographical landmarks of the island could tell him any more of their current location. Other than tropical and approaching rain season, he didn’t seem to notice much else. It wasn’t until Lukas had presented the questions again that his mind was pulled back to reality. “Private hire Boeing 12596...” he replied calmly. “Fifteen survivors. Heading through South-West links. Jacob Sanders, that’s my name. Plane crashed roughly two hours and fourty minutes from the expected arrival time to Hawaii. If the pilot flew the right route, they should be able to find us.” He said all he had to say and left the others to decide what to do with it. Of course, he felt he knew a better way to do so but did not want to be met with Sebastians anger issues, Warrents utter imbecility or anyone else’s need for explanations.

Sebastian Sebastian pointed at JJ and clicked his fingers, "That's it- fucking perfect- almost. A few changes- you're gonna say you're Blue Barrowcliffe, Canadian national- and make sure you mention that the plane went down. Private hire Boeing- whatever- down," he corrected, "Don't waste time we don't have," he justified a moment later.

Warren Warren rolled his eyes at all of Sebastian's threats. Hagrid didn't scare him one bit. He made faces behind Stumbo the Giant's back as JJ swooped in to save the day, doing his best to stay standing on his good foot as he listened in. He supposed what JJ said was far better than what he'd come up with. He didn't like how Sebastian seemed to be happy about it. He was going to do something to change that. "Are we sure we don't want to go with Sebastian Claude Sergeant? Because I would cross oceans in seconds just to see what kind of person that gay ass name belongs to."

Sebastian If it wasn't clear that Sebastian had had enough of Warren by now, the look on his face after his most recent comment would surely make it clear, even to NASA. He spun around to face the male and wrapped his hand around his neck firmly, "Good idea, I'll throw you across the fucking ocean to show you what kind of person I am," he suggested savagely, tugging ruthlessly at the other boy's throat as he got in close to his face.

Warren "Not really my kink but choking is close. Do it harder," Warren gasped out, grinning like an idiot as his face grew red.

Sawyer Their brief moment of triumph was quickly overshadowed by Sebastian’s short temper, and none of them were currently in the position to weather that storm. Sawyer acted on reflex, reaching out to grip Sebastian’s shoulder in a feeble attempt to pull him away from Warren and the edge of the cliff they were standing on. “Woah woah, hey - fuck, man, enough, you’re gonna kill him!”

Lukas Thank God JJ had enough braincells to make up for the rest of this sorry gang of misfits. Lukas felt a wave of relief wash over him as JJ was able to answer all the questions he had and without being an absolute moron about it. " Boeing 12596, heading through South-West links, " he repeated those details, nodding as he tried to commit them to memory. But on top of that, JJ had been calm about most things so far, approaching everything with reason, so it made Lukas think he'd be the least likely to stumble under pressure. Plus, JJ was probably the only person besides himself that he didn't need to watch like a hawk with the radio. " Alright, do you wann– " he starts to offer the radio, but before he can finish Gigantor and the Nordic cripple were having at it. " What the fuck, " he uttered for the third time in about five minutes, looking over at the interaction but with the radio still in hand he made no move to get between them like Sawyer did. Even in the weird circumstances an abrupt laugh escaped him at Warren's gasped comment. Then he looked to Callum, probably one of the only guys in the group that had any chance of taking on Sebastian. " You wanna fucking get control of your buddy there? " He raised his brows and tilted head towards the situation aka Warren getting murked and liking it.

Sebastian Sebastian stumbled back with hands on his shoulders but he didn't take Sawyer's words as a warning, "Then I'd be doing everybody a goddamn favor," he shot back, it didn't seem like a bad thing if the loudmouth European took a plunge off the edge of this conveniently placed cliff if it meant he didn't take any more shots at fucking up their plans for survival...or call him Claude again. He shrugged Sawyer's grip off of him but it didn't do much to ease his hostility toward Warren who was pressing just about every button Sebastian had at this point.

Callum Callum was fixated on the radio. He just wanted everyone to shut the fuck up so JJ could turn that thing on and spout all the information they took forever to agree on already. But then Warren. The fucking invalid idiot just couldn't keep his mouth shut. He sighed, moving away from JJ to assist Sawyer in deescalating the situation. "Yo, hey, Sebastian-" His concern for the situation grew when the Hick was shrugged off and the pressure around Warren's neck didn't ease. "Hey! C'mon!" He grabbed onto Sebastian's shoulders and pulled, hoping a more aggressive approach would make a difference.

Warren Warren was suffering. But he was also: thriving. Seeing the anger on Sebastian's face brought him joy like you would not believe. It was the only fun he's had on this island so far. "Is this all you got, Claude? Did Daddy not show you how it's done? You have to do it like this-" His hands left their position over Sebastian's, moving to grip Claude's neck with his own fingers.

Sebastian It was the name, it was the mention of his father, it was the shit-eating grin on Warren's face. Sebastian was immediately seeing red again and no amount of 'hey come on's from any of the other boys was enough for him to simmer down. "You wanna lose this fucking hand?" he asked, gripping onto the other boy's wrist still with Warren's hand wrapped around, "Try it, I fucking dare you, see what happens,"

JJ He was mildly amused by the situation at hand. He found Sebastian’s irrational anger to Warrens imbecilic digs to be a waste of time and energy. Perhaps neither of them were aware just how important energy was in situations such as these, where the distance between them and their next meal was unknown and so was the distance between them and the rescue. Trying to speed the situation up, he’ll take the radio over from Lukas and move aside from the dick measuring contest. He adjusts the antenna until he can hear out the clear static. “Mayday, mayday” he will repeat, hoping the channel would pass through their call for help. “Maybe we could..” he skips through different channels, trying his best to find something intelligible, in any language. “We should get higher.”

Radio "92.1–" Static noises.

Lukas Unlike JJ, even preoccupied by the radio, Lukas was growing increasingly concerned about the whole Warren and Sebastian situation. Maybe if they weren't so close to a cliff, he wouldn't be so concerned– but then again Dash's words about Sebastian being their very own General Zaroff came to mind. His attention snapped back to JJ and the radio when the radio seemed to spurt something out, though it was hard to hear. " Did that just say something? " He asked looking back up at JJ, maybe he'd watched Ghost Adventures too many fucking times and was just making himself hear shit in the static. He nodded in agreement at the idea of getting higher, their makeshift antenna needed all the help it could get. Though, he couldn't leave without saying anything. " You think they're good? Like Sawyer and Callum probably have it handled, right? " He asked, glancing to the group by the cliff and then back to JJ, once again asking him for some reassurance that they weren't all gonna die here.

Sawyer Sawyer’s gaze flickered between the two groups of boys, spine stiffening as the radio whirred and crackled to life. That was it—that light at the end of the tunnel they were all so desperately chasing after. It was too fucking close for them to turn their backs on it now. He shot an urgent look at Callum, tilting his head toward Sebastian as if to say, fucking pull him off.

JJ With Lukas' attention dancing between the radio and the bikini contest, JJ focused entirely on quickly securing the antenna further using the string coming off his sleeve. As the static started coming through he could feel his body buzz with surprise and he'll press the button to the right. "Mayday, Mayday, Boeing 12596 coming through, do you copy?" he releases the button to allow the other side to process and continues to walk further up the hill, unsure if the change of location was actually helping the process or if they would have had a better chance sticking to the coast. "Come on..." he says, turning towards the group. "We might have something."

Callum The radio! It was obvious to anyone what Callum cared about more. Honestly, would it be the worst thing if Sebastian crushed Warren's windpipes? They could use all the quiet they could get to hear that thing. "Sebastian, come on, quit it-" He hooked an arm over Sebastian and leaned back, hoping his weight and the force would successfully separate the two. "Yo, Texas! A hand!"

Warren Warren has never been so close to death before. And he's taken a dangerous cocktail of party favors with nothing but a shot of absinth in his stomach once before. "Come on, Daddy Claude! Harder! Show me how you do it back home!" He laughed maniacally.

Sebastian That was the last straw, or maybe it was the laugh, or maybe Sebastian was just over tired but he wasn't fucking around anymore and without a moment more of hesitation he threw his weight into a punch that connected seamlessly with the other boy's face.

Sawyer “Jesus Christ,” Sawyer muttered beneath his breath; the first time he’d ever considered calling for God to help them escape from this apocalyptic hellhole. He hadn’t been quick enough to grab Sebastian’s arm before it reeled back, releasing with a sharp punch that caused a crack so loud it sent chills down Sawyer’s spine. He did, however, have the sense to grab Warren’s arm and yank him forward—at least enough to keep him from plummeting to his early death. “Alright, we need to cool it. Now.”

Lukas Okay, so, JJ's non-response didn't fucking settle Lukas' nerves at all. So instead he simply had to focus on the radio, the yelling all getting a little too fucking real for him real quickly. When he suggested moving, Lukas followed, though not without casting a glance over his shoulder to catch the argument getting more and more heated by the second. When a fist connected with Warren's face, Lukas was shocked. Not that Sebastian had hit someone, that was fairly predictable, but just at the whole fucking situation. " Yo, we gotta fucking get to someone before Gigantor fucking kills him. " He said, not bothering to hide the growing panic, turning back to JJ and continuing to follow him further up the hill. Using the ideal of not witnessing a death on top of all the trauma of surviving a plane crash to focus him on helping with the radio.

JJ He would have continued walking as he was and expecting everyone to fall in line. Once again, as per usual, he was let down by the sheer lack of ability some humans possessed to prioritise. Looking over his shoulder, he witnesses the argument, teasing and pinning had now gotten much too real and he'll stop in his tracks, passing the radio over to Lukas before heading back for the group. For the first time, he will approach Sebastian directly. His voice remains calm, almost quiet. "If you walk front of the line, you won't be able to hear the next thing coming out his mouth. Come on, radio is buzzing." he'll give Warren a look filled with pity, uncontrollably so and with the same tone he'll not even bother to check if the others head was still in place. "You walk the back of the line. Your leg is fucked enough." with a sigh, he'll look over at everyone else. "Everyone good? Can we keep moving?" they still had to reach the peak and walk all the way back before the sun sets. Otherwise, they might have just made a fatal mistake.

Warren Warren spat, a spatter of red and enamel on the ground when he did so. "Fuck..." Coughing, he gripped onto Sawyer to stay standing. He accidentally put weight on his bad foot in the middle of the chaos he'd started, so in addition to his mouth throbbing from the impact of Sebastian's fist, his leg now twinged with pain too. "He started it..." Warren had the audacity to say, holding onto to Sawyer a little tighter in anticipation for how Sebastian would react to that.

Sebastian Sebastian looked at the male with pure and utter disdain at how pathetic he looked and sounded. "-and I'll finish it too, don't think I won't," he barked in response, more than happy to give him another smack to even out the bruising on each side.

Callum Callum clapped a hand over Sebastian's shoulder. "Stop. C'mon, man." He was tired. He just wanted to get to the fucking peak like JJ said and try to reach out to someone. This shit, whatever was going on between Sebastian and Warren, it was a pointless waste of time.

Sawyer Normally, Sawyer liked to think of himself as the one with his head screwed on (somewhat) straight in times of disarray, but the calm coldness of JJ’s voice as he addressed the other boys was eerie—even to him. He stumbled a little as Warren shifted his weight into Sawyer’s side, looking down to see splatters of blood painted across his own white undershirt. Shit. He’d just bought this one for the trip, too. “Yeah, nah, JJ’s right. We’re done with all...this.”

Lukas The next couple seconds happen way too fast for Lukas to process in the moment. One second, he'd handed off the radio duty to JJ and the next JJ was successfully pulling the two that were fighting (if you could call what Warren was doing fighting back,) apart and seemingly ending the commotion. He was paused on the hill, watching it all unfold, but after a second another unintentional chuckle tumbled from his lips. " Are y'all done? " He called out to the group by the cliff, amusement on his tongue and shit eating grin back on his features as if he hadn't been scared shitless moments ago. " 'Cause we actually got fucking signal on this mother fucker, " He said enthusiastically, holding up the walkie in celebratory manner. A small and probably shit attempt to stop another fight from breaking out any second.

Sebastian Sebastian raised his hands, though there was a self-satisfied smugness coloring his features that made it obvious that he was pretty pleased with himself, despite the blood shed- or perhaps because of it. "I'm done," he announced plainly, happy for all things to be said and done as long as Warren didn't dare open his fat mouth again, at least for another half an hour or so. He wiped his hand on his shorts, whether it was spit or blood he didn't know, nor did he care, "So we're high enough to get a signal, now we need to find a better channel, right- is that what we're saying?"

Lukas Okay was it just Lukas or were he and Sebastian actually getting along? Nothing brings people together like almost murdering and almost witnessing murder. " Pretty much, " Lukas confirmed, though it was mainly just an assumption. His radio knowledge was still relatively basic, even after rebuilding this one with JJ. " We're gonna go a little higher, see if it can get any clearer. 'Cause while you guys were jacking each other off or whatever, " he had to make a joke, even dismissively, he couldn't actually acknowledge what he had just witnessed " I swear to God, this thing said something. " He insisted, though he hadn't actually caught what it had said in the moment. " So let's go, " he said, turning on his heel and returning to the mission of getting a bit higher before anyone could get back to the murder.

Sawyer The snort that escaped Sawyer after Curly’s little dig was entirely involuntary, but also entirely deserved. He was just glad he didn’t have to be an accessory to murder today—that’d be a hard one to explain to his parole officer when he got home. With a final, mournful sigh for his dirtied, bloodied shirt, he chucked the thing off over his head and handed it to Warren. “For the bleeding, Bateman.” Sawyer clapped his hands together. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Warren "Thank you, Yeehaw." His lips pushed into whatever form of a smile he could manage. Warren bunched up the shirt and pressed it to his mouth, giving Sebastian a nasty glance as he did so.

Callum "Alright." Callum clapped his hands together, glad JJ was able to settle the commotion. "Let's fucking do this." He was more than ready to put this dumb shit behind them for the sake of accomplishing what they actually came to do today. He jogged up to Jort's side, wanting to be up close to the action in case the thing crackled to life again.

Lukas As the group continued up the hill, Lukas returned his attention to the radio. Turning it back on, he adjusts the antenna until he's satisfied with the static settling and speaks into the machine. " Mayday, mayday. This is Blue Barrowcliffe, one of fifteen survivors of flight Boeing 12596. Do you copy? " It felt completely silly to say he was Blue, the Canadian that looked literally nothing like his scrawny New Jerseyan self, but aside from JJ he didn't know if he could trust any of these guys with the radio. " I repeat, fifteen survivors of flight Boeing 12596, " he said the numbers slowly and clearly, if someone heard them the numbers would be their saving grace. " Do you copy? "

Sebastian Sebastian could hardly fucking believe that Jorts had actually managed to stick to the script, he'd nailed it. "Canadian- say you're Canadian," he reminded Lukas, waving his hand a little with encouragement as he listened carefully to the static on the other end of the radio device, praying that words in any language came from it- even one of the languages Von Trapp spoke would do. "Keep going," he insisted, his heart in his throat as he awaited a response from somebody with the potential to save their sorry asses.

Radio Lengthy static noises. "Ha-" Static noises. "Gehen-" Static noises. "Liest du-" Static noises. "-nächsten hafen." Static.

Sawyer The excitement was palpable now, eyes lighting up and heads perking with hope. Sawyer grasped the shoulder of the boy nearest to him and shook it, laughing. “Fuckin’ A, we got a fuckin’ German!”

Liam liam stood off to the side as everything went down. his hand flying up to over his own mouth as he watched the altercation between sebastian and warren, but the last thing he was going to do was step in between them and end up in the same position because sebastian redirects his rage to him. but finally lukas can get a message out. static and a few broken words that he couldn’t understand, heart sinking when sawyer announces that it’s a german. “does anyone know german?” he asks, looking around at the others.

Blue blue hadnt said much during the saga, other than an extremely confused "why the hell did i have to carry him" when warren zoomed into chaos at a speed blue's exhausted mind and body couldnt keep up to. he sat away from the drama, and while he would normally intervene to save morale but his body seemed glued to ground. hearing his name echoed by the others tothe radio, he imagined his parents and his sister, and a lump in his throat had to be swallowed down, tears avoided for now. as the confrontation got more violent, blue rested his head between his knees, fighting sleep or panic, the yelling and tension a little too intense of a reminder of...her. he resumed his role helping the injured, though more resentkful of helping mr instigator. "warren......youre swiss, eh? dont your people speak like swiss french and german? what'd they say, man?"

Lukas Lukas is about to tell Sebastian that he doesn't even sound Canadian, not even a little bit, and that saying he was would be kind of fucking stupid when the radio spattered to life in his hands. He looked down at it, amazed. After half a second of awe at his own handiwork he tried moving the antenna and pushed himself to move up the hill faster to help get rid of the static. Sawyer picked up on the language before he did and he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the group. He sort of had his toes crossed for JJ to come through again, even if his behaviour was a little unsettling– but then Blue addressed the European. And while he was probably their best chance, Lukas wasn't feeling especially eager to let him have the radio again. " Anyone else? " He asked, looking around the group and avoiding the now toothless Nordic cripple. " Don't need to be fluent, just enough to say we need help. "

Dash Dash watched the entire shitshow with varying degrees of amusement and disturbance. Initially he didn’t see much point in following everyone up the hill, like, logically speaking, mostly because didn’t know jack about radios or distress signals or even their flight number. But he did want to be there if they made contact with anyone. So he ambled up near the back of the line, and spent the first few minutes of the hike looking at a cloud in the shape of Marge Simpson’s head, glad that Lukas and JJ seemed to have things covered on the radio front. Douchebag Callum was there too or whatever, he guessed, and Sebastian came through, even if he took his roid rage to the max and punched Eurotrash in the mug over a couple gay jokes. Dash’s lip curled at the blood spat out on the ground. He didn’t really vibe with all the sadistic shit, and he’d take bets that the little guy had half a chub through the whole thing. “Nein, bro,” Dash shook his head. He had maybe a handful of phrases in Spanish and Tagalog in his repertoire at max. And if any anxious fact stuck with him, it was that the battery was on its last legs, so he glanced toward JJ in hopes he could step in ASAP. He reminded Dash of a guy he went to elementary school with who learned those wack languages from Lord of the Rings for fun and hid under desks to hiss at people as they walked by. Surely he knew some German. “American public schools kinda fell off with the whole foreign language thing.”

JJ As the radio went on, he tried his best to decipher what was being said. His German was rusty at best, mostly based on old philosophical texts he picked up at college. Extending his hand to get the radio back, he’ll rub the top of his brow as he recalls the words. “Hilfe, Hilfe! D-das ist Jacob Sanders. Fünfzehn Menschen am Leben. Privatflugzeug Boeing 12596 kaputt. Wir brauchen hilfe.” He knew the German was butchered, but he believed he’d said the most important things in the process. “Hallo? Kopierst du?” He’ll shift the radio around, trying his best to get the signal.

Warren Warren was tired. His mouth hurt. On top of losing a tooth, one other in his mouth felt loose and he hated it. He didn't really care that they'd made it to the peak, leaving the business of getting into contact with help to whoever had a hard-on for talking to strangers in the group – Mister Moley Man and the smart one. They seemed to have it figured out and he really needed to pee. Besides, with the space at the peak much smaller than where they were before and everyone so excited about it, he felt as though he'd be caught up through overhearing while he tried to take a piss where he was at the back of the group. He was halfway done with his leak when he heard German, making him turn on instinct and accidentally getting piss on shoes. "Agh, nein–" Two quick shakes and he pulled his track pants back up, hopping over to the front. With his bad leg, he had to touch some shoulders on the way so he wouldn't fall over. What the boys didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "Du sprichst Deutsch?" He asked the smart one as he hobbled up. Schlecht, but he left that in his head. Stretching out his hand, he opened and closed his fist a couple of times, asking for the device.

Sawyer Sawyer held up a finger and thumb. "S'German, actually."

Sebastian Sebastian rolled his eyes at the budding discourse, "Which is the same thing- moving on. What did they say?" he gathered the gist of what JJ had relayed back, he's a lesbian, the private flight number, uh whatever else- it didn't matter, Sebastian was pretty sure he'd pretty much stuck to the script. "Does that mean we're near Germany or a country that speaks German? What countries outside of Germany speak German?" he couldn't think of a single one that wasn't landlocked or anything but tropical- no freakin' way they were near Western Europe.

Sawyer Sawyer just looked at him like he felt even worse for him than he did when they found out his middle name was Claude. "Dude."

Dash Dash pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek to fight back a fleeting grin at Sawyer’s emphatic dude. “I dunno dick about who’s speaking German other than the Krauts, but could be a passing ship, right? Maybe we’re in international waters or some shit.”

JJ He looks at Warren and his eyes wonder for a moment if the other is genuinely fluent or just proceeding to be a more persistent human equivalent of hpv. “I speak limited amount.” he answers honestly as Sebastian proceeds to throw in a question which would by all metrics be considered dumb if it wasn’t somewhat valid. Before he can answer, Dash adds to it a more plausible explanation and he’ll nod. “German speaking countries are Germany, Austria, Belgium and Luxembourg. German is also an official language in Switzerland and Liechtenstein, but it sounds different. It is highly unlikely we’re close to any of those...” his eyes now on Dash. “It may very well be the case. Any other ideas?”

Liam watched as everyone silently as they freaked out over who may or may not speak german. his anxiety rising with each moment as their chances of rescue started to lessen the more they used up the battery of the radio. he stayed away from the group, off to the side and pulled out his tech deck out of his pocket and started spinning one of the wheels anxiously to try and calm himself down.

Sawyer "Maybe," Sawyer said, leaning in close to the other boys like he was about to tell a secret, "the operator's just bilingual."

Warren "I live in Switzerland, I speak German," he told JJ. To emphasize his point, he stretched out his hand more blatantly. "Give it to me. Or do you want to stay on this island forever?"

JJ Instinctively JJ will look over at Lukas as if to get some type of blessing or permission to pass the radio to the village idiot. Still, he didn’t have any real ownership of the thing so he stretched his hand out, anxiety rising. He was almost certain the other would either send off a message too ridiculous for the other end to decipher or fully throw the thing on the floor just to get his other leg broken and bleed out in the woods. “Go on then. Careful with the antenna...”

Joe Joe's initial relief at hearing a voice on the other side of the radio was dimming as Henry Bowsers but hopefully redeemable starting asking irrelevant questions that made no sense."Pinky's right it's probably a ship. There's no way there's no way there's a hermit nearby that just happens to hack into radio signals." Who the fuck still used radios besides sailors and boy wonder (not that JJ counted he seemed to have swallow an encyclopedia) ? Watching boy wonder hand over the walkietalkie to Warren was an extremely nerve wracking experience."Be careful Warren."

Lukas With only a couple Hebrew words along with his questionable at best English skills Lukas was mainly sitting this conversation out. If it could be called a conversation, mainly it just felt like a lot of bullshit but what else was new on this island. When Warren revealed he could speak German, and they all kind of knew that because of the song he'd sung on the way up the hill, Lukas had to grimace. It was their best chance, so he gave a small nod to JJ as it was passed over. " Remember, flight Boeing 12596. " Again he said the numbers slowly, fingers and toes crossed old gap tooth wouldnt fuck them all over.

Warren Finally, Warren thought as the radio came into contact with his hand. "Danke, wunderkind." That was so drawn out and dramatic. It's not like he's done anything crazy with the radio before. He hopped over and lifted a hand, swatting it in the group's general direction to settle their apparent nerves. Then he pressed the transmit button spoke. "Ja hallo? Kannst du mich hören? Wir sind auf einer Insel gestrandet. Wir brauchen deine Hilfe."

Radio Static noises. "kannst du-" Static noises.

Lukas It's like watching a toddler handle a bomb, Lukas is just waiting for it to fuck them all up big time. But somehow, it doesn't. Not yet at least. He doesn't hear anything that sounds like numbers come out of Warren's mouth but he also knew literally no German at all. When the radio responded he raised his brows, as if the two words the voice said could possibly mean anything useful. " What's going on? Do we need to go higher still? " He asked, because he was like 65% certain the voice had been cut off by the static.

Warren For once, Warren was invested. He shook the walkie slightly and held it against his ear. Then he spoke into it again, thumb on the transmit button. "Ja? Hallo? Hallo? Kannst du mich hören?" He hopped forward a little, perhaps needing to get a little higher. "Yeah, I think so," he answered Lukas. It was a shame. They were at the peak already. But the edge had a slight lift so Warren was going to take the chance. "Hallo?" He tried again. He heard some static, some response in German before the walkie went dead suddenly. "Shit." He shook the thing. Perhaps a little too vigorously. "Hallo??" He turned on the foot he was balancing. "I think it– Ahh!" The ground beneath him crumbled. Warren slipped. Quickly, he used grabbed onto whatever of the edge he could, releasing the walkie from his grasp to do. "Help! Help!"

Sebastian Sebastian had his arms folded tightly across his chest to keep them at bay as he listened to the chatted shift from person to person. It seemed as if everybody had something to say but nobody was saying anything useful to the situation. "We might just be in a dead zone, I mean look at this place- who knows where the next tower is," he explained, worried that there wouldn't be another radio tower or any man-made structure for hundreds and hundreds of miles from where they stood. He heard the crumbling rock before he truly registered what had happened and as the walkie hit the ground, Sebastian reacted to try and catch it, though his efforts were thwarted at the last moment, his attention divided by Warren's shrieking. "Fuck, Warren!" the words spilled from his mouth as he stumbled as close to the edge of the cliff as he could without risking another rockfall. "Bro-" he looked back at the other guys over his shoulder, "What the fuck- do something!" he practically squealed.

Lukas When Warren moved past the bulk of the group, so did Lukas. Eyes on that radio. He really did not think he was gonna care so much about it. " Hey! " He reacted when Warren fucking shook the thing, as if it wasn't already fucking precarious. Moving towards him, more to take the radio off him than pull him away from the edge of the cliff– but then the fucking dude took a dive off it. " Holy shit, " Lukas moved quickly when he fell, he thought he cared about the radio but he didn't even notice Warren had dropped it yet. Instead falling to his knees, scraping skin since the alterations he'd made that morning. Leaning over the edge he reached out his hand to Warren, holding onto stable ground as best as he could, but he was still a fraction too far away. " Grab my fucking hand, dude! "

Sawyer "Fuck-" Disaster struck in such quick succession: the radio, the crumbling peak, Warren--Sawyer's heart fell to his stomach with such force, he felt like he was about to shit it out of his asshole. He raced to the edge of the cliff, grabbing onto Lukas's free arm. "Pull him up, I'll anchor you!"

Sebastian Sebastian's breath caught in his lungs at the sight. Ten minutes ago he'd wanted to slay Warren where he stood and now, the thought of the other male plummeting to his death right before him made Sebastian want to throw up. "Grab his arm, grab each other's arms, lock in," he insisted, certain that Jorts' clammy ass hands were going to just help Warren fall to his death quicker than ever. "Fuck it- grab me," he insisted, wiping his hand and arm on his shirt before grabbing Warren's forearm firmly.

JJ All he could think about was the exact impossibility of seeing the radio again and for a second he thought about stepping on Warrens hand to push him off with it. As he paused to think, the others jumped to help, and he offered a hand to yeh guys as they moved into action. The stability of the cliff was unknown at this point and a dangerous place to be placing weight so he tried his best to focus on the situation at hand as opposed to possible catastrophe.

Warren Sebastian? Sebastian wanted to help him? Warren knew now wasn't the time to be picky. Beggars couldn't be choosers after all when their arms were aching and they were hanging off a cliff. He pictured his 8th grade English teacher's cleavage one last time before throwing all caution to the wind and letting go of his grip on the ledge to hold onto to Sebastian's arm for dear life.

Sawyer The harder Sebastian pulled, the more unstable the ground became. Sawyer's pulse rocketed, heartbeat thundering in his ears as earth crumbled from the very edges of the cliff Warren was dangling from. He whipped around to face the rest of the group--all frozen in various stages of shock and panic--eyes wild: "Guys--"

Dash Dash saw it all happen in slow motion. Warren turned on his foot, then plummeted. One second he was there and in the next he was dangling from the edge like some kind of Wiley Coyote bit. Dash stood frozen, panic seizing his chest. In what world was he equipped for this shit? “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked no one particular, his voice inching up high and reedy with shaky incredulity. He watched as Sebastian, then Lukas, and finally JJ leapt forward to help. “What the cucking shitfuck this is so fucking fucked.” It was Sawyer’s panicky voice that made him take a step forward, half-wondering if he ought to grab a hold of the back of Lukas’ shirt as some kind of useless backup for a second before he finally did it. “Guys — Jesus, the whole thing’s gonna come down.” But what was the alternative? Letting Warren eat shit and die?

Lukas Lukas was willing to admit (to himself) he was fucking grateful Gigantor joined him on the edge of the cliff. Lukas Skinny Arms Tozer was gonna have no hope of pulling Warren up on his own though he actually hadn't thought of that in the moment. He thought he nearly felt his stomach fall out his asshole when Warren made the move to cling to Sebastian's arm. Feeling a tightness on the back of his shirt he took that as a cue to move again, pushing himself back up, on his feet but still crouched by Sebastian and the dangling Swiss. Glancing over his shoulder to see it was Dash that pulled him up, see Lukas knew he got good vibes off that dude. He'd give a proper thanks later but for now he gave an out of breath nod before he looked back to Sebastian. " You got him? " He asked, barely allowing time for an answer before he's looking back to Dash, Sawyer and anyone else that was braving the cliff edge. " Let's pull them up. " He said, trying not to think about the the precarious cliff face everyone was so desperate to point out.

Callum This was all too fucking insane. How was Warren in a near death situation for the second time that day? Not wanting to deal with a dead body on top of trying to survive on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere, Callum dove headfirst into the chaos, grabbing onto Dash to give him support because there was no way this skinny fucker could realistically help Warren, Sebastian and Jorts. "Pull 'em up, pull 'em up!" He urged, mentally preparing himself for the energy he was about to exert.

Dash Dash nodded back once toward Lukas and if his thoughts weren’t too preoccupied with the fact that they were all surely about to plummet to their deaths, he might’ve twisted around and mocked Callum’s deep, booming pUlL ‘eM uP pUlL ‘eM uP to his face. The guy’s hand gripped tightly to Dash’s arm though, pretty effectively making extra sure to keep that petty, poorly timed instinct in check—and probably ensuring that he didn’t full-on Kermit over the edge of the cliff, too. Fuckin’ jocks. Dash gritted his teeth; he didn’t know if it was in his head or not, but the ground felt shaky under his feet. He dug his heels in and used his other hand to grab hold of Lukas’ arm to create some kind of human chain, his breath coming fast and shallow, and did his damned best to keep their skulls intact.

Sebastian Sebastian's heart was in his throat as Warren grabbed onto his arms, his grip pinching the skin though he was far, far too drenched in adrenaline to notice the pain. "Come on, come on," he bellowed, urging the other boys to give it all they had, lest both he and Warren tumble over the edge and into the rocky waters below. At least it would be a quick death, he supposed.

JJ Several things have happened in a span of seconds that JJ could not process. First, Warren hanging off a suspiciously strong cliff. Second, Sebastian of all people putting his ass on the like to save the other. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. If maybe all the years of shit sleep had caught up to him and he was now stuck in some hallucination limbo making shit up. Either way, he didn’t say anything, he balanced his weight and pulled onto the guy in front of him and prayed to God and Saints and whoever might have been listening, for this to be over soon. — He was still pissed about the radio, pissed that he’d even passed it to the other, pissed that there was no way now to make his phone work either. Not without the parts he used for the antenna.

Liam liam watched in horror as warren grabbed the radio, babbling into it before eventually stepping off the cliff. in the split second between him falling and everyone snapping into action, liam actually though he had falling to his death. and with most things since the crash, he froze yet again. but a second later, he shoved his toy back into his pocket and ran over to everyone else. which he later realized was a bad idea because pain was shooting up his leg as he grabbed on to one of the other guys to help pull the kid up. thankfully the stress of it all, he was able to ignore his own leg and focus on getting warren back on to solid ground.

Blue everything appeared to blue in flashes, the group heading up the cliff, and the chaos when the cliff crumbled. he watched the other spring into action, and took a deep breath to pump himself up. "Get him! Is he okay" He pulled on whatever body parts or clothes he could to help the others, blue felt the solidarity that he felt with his teammates back home. "Is the radio grabbable?" he was sweating, panting, and the desperation was coursing through everyone it seemed. "Save warren. Get the radio. Save Warren. Get the radio." He chanted to himself, pulling along with the rest of the group. "Save. Warren. Get. The. Radio."

Warren With everyone pitching in to help him, it seemed that Warren would live to see another day. His body was yanked up and onto solid ground again thanks to the efforts of Arsch mit Ohren and the rest of the boys hanging onto him. The second he felt firm rock below him, he wriggled as best he as he could past the boys to further in, wanting desperately to put as much distance between himself and ledge as possible. When he felt it was safe, he dropped to the ground and rolled onto his back to stare at the orange sky above. "Heilige Scheiß..." He was breathless, chest heaving up and down rapidly. Never in his life has he felt such a rush. It was a terrible thing to think about but he wondered how much 'near death experiences' would sell for. Thrill seekers like him would surely pay a hefty price. What Warren really should have been thinking about though was the radio, and how it was no longer in his hand and probably in a million little pieces hundreds of feet below them or lost to the waves of the ocean. He had yet to recall the reality he and the boys were in and how dire it was that they got into contact with someone.

Sawyer Sawyer fell back with the rest of the boys into a sweaty, adrenaline-clouded heap, wincing at the harsh impact of solid rock against his elbow. Nobody dared speak for those first fragile seconds, as though the silence was a crumbling cliff and puncturing it with words would cause it all to come tumbling down. This wasn't a game anymore. The isle was no longer a midpoint in their journey, a pit stop on the way to a boys' retreat in Hawaii; it was a living, breathing thing, with the power to swallow any of them whole at a moment's notice. He rolled to his side, dog tags clinking together as he let out a shaky breath: "the radio...fuck are we gonna do now without the radio?"

JJ He falls back and for a moment he just sits there in silence with the rest of them. He will then get back to his feet, wipe his hands and dust his trousers and look over at Sawyer having considered the exact question throughout the conundrum. “Nothing to do. It’s gone, it’s done.” all they could do now is hope that the Germans or whoever the fuck, heard their message and was on the way. Regardless, the sun began to set so he pointed towards the downhill path. “We should head back before it gets dark...”

Lukas Relief of not having to witness Warren's death washed over him, for the second time that day. But it only lasted a moment. Pulling himself free of the cluster of boys that had pulled him back up off the cliff face, he moved back towards the edge, looking over it in hopes of seeing the walkie on a ledge or something. Perfectly in tact and working a dream, ideally. But nothing. All that fucking hard work, and for fucking nothing. He turns back to the group, eyes landing on the culprit and any relief that he was alive long gone. " You fucking moron, fuck's sake, " If Warren had managed to stand before Lukas turned around, he absolutely would have shoved the bastard. Not over the cliff, but at least back to the ground. Seeing as he was still down, Lukas tried to not let the anger build. JJ, who with each passing moment seemed to be closer and closer to having the emotional complexity of Chucky the fucking Doll, made a good point. They should head back before it gets dark. Seeing as he was already up, he offered his hand to help up the guy closest to him (and who was not Warren).

Blue blue accepted lukas' hand, grateful for any assistance the guys had to give. "thank you." his tone was somber, torn between gratitude for jort's work with the radio, and like the others devastation for what they lost. "im sorry." a reflex more than a habit, a conditioning she taught him. the thought of spending another night was unappealing, and with each hour the fantasy of this being a camping trip was disappearing. he moved towards the front of the group. "alright, we did good. I know this wasnt the outcome we wanted, but their was some macgyver inspector gadget shit that was amazing...and out teamwork pulling a man up. Thats the kind of trust we gotta lean into......carry the injured and lets head back. Warren, when your concussion or whatever gets better, we NEED you to tell us what they said."

Dash Gravity proved itself to be a bitch not once, but twice. Warren luckily managed to get back up from the side of the cliff face, but once the tension of holding tightly and pulling released, Dash fell back and into Paul fuckin’ Bunyan behind him. Even with the air knocked out of lungs, he managed to release a hybrid relieved-slash-disbelieving laugh after a moment's silence when any rescue mission for the radio was declared null and void. Because what the fuck. He hoped his elbow at least got one of Callum’s soft spots as he struggled to his feet, clasping onto Lukas’ hand as soon as he let go of Blue’s. “Well that was a total shitshow.” And like, who knew what the lederhosen-looking dickhead was telling the Fuehrer over the line? The u-boats could’ve been well on their way to haul them to some undisclosed lab by morning. He cracked the knuckles of his right hand, his limbs left a little shaky post-adrenaline rush, and shook his head. With a sharp exhale, he edged away from the sudden drop. His heart racketed just looking where Warren had been clinging on. “Yeah, yeah, down before dark, but what’s the punishment for the high crime of nuking what was probably our one chance at direct communication, man?” In a half-assed attempt at fairness, he tacked on: “I know he didn’t like, spike it on purpose here, but.” Cue: womp womp. “Be real. Are we or are we not totally fucked?”

JJ The corner of his lip lifts slightly as Dash asks what the punishment is for the accidental crime of losing their best chance out of this Island. It’s not that he found it particularly amusing, it’s just that he thought punishment was rather obvious. “The punishment is being stuck here.” He will reply simply. “What impacts one of us - impacts us all.” It’s time we start acting like it, he thinks as he shoots a look towards Warren and Sebastian and then down to his hands. “One fucks up, we all fucked up.” Trying to remain positive he will face Dash and start walking further from the edge of the cliff. “Perhaps whoever’s on the other side has got our message. We’ve only been here for little over a day so it’s also possible the search party separate from the radio is underway. We should stick to the beach for now, keep the fire going...as of right now —“ with the radio gone “it’s the best option.”

#wilds.thread

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happymetalgirl · 3 years

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The 15 Worst Metal Albums of 2020

This list might have been shorter if not for my running into a few awful albums at the end of the year that I had been avoiding wisely up until that point. My morbid curiosity got the best of me, and what’s done is done. I’m paying the price for it by going back over the worst albums I heard all year. Let’s get this over with.

15. Ghøstkid - Ghøstkid

This was the debut solo album from the former singer of Eskimo Callboy, who had a pretty decent backing of hype heading into this release under the Ghøstkid moniker, but with the namesake frontman putting in no more than the standard performance on a bunch of poorly assembled tracks in an unappealing and dated poppy metalcore style, ultimately the eponymous album wound up disappointing me pretty substantially.

14. Powerman 5000 - The Noble Rot

Powerman 5000 are just such a low-rate band that even one of their more okay albums makes it here. While not as astoundingly, mind-numbingly basic as their worst material, The Noble Rot is still some of the most unevolved, underwritten, and forgettable electro rock and industrial metal I’ve heard from a big name artist. This is some eighth grade level songwriting here, and that’s a fuckin’ feat for a band that’s been around longer than any eighth grader has.

13. Corey Taylor - CMFT

There was a lot of hype around Corey Taylor finally coming out with a solo project, and it was pretty damn disappointing to hear a bunch of uninteresting classic rock too tacky for Stone Sour. CMFT focuses on the fun side that has made its creator such an enigmatic figurehead in the metal press, but its one-note approach does little more than highlight Corey Taylor’s songwriting deficiencies. I really could have seen this album turning out better too, with just some more time and care put into it, if a fun time of an album is what Taylor was going for. Unfortunately Taylor tried to make a party album and a grand ceremonial tribute to his greatness at the same time, and ego-petting and partying don’t really go hand in hand.

12. Evildead - United States of Anarchy

It has some good bones underneath it, but Evildead’s long overdue (if anyone was asking for it) third album wears out its welcome so quickly with some of the most adolescent thrash I’ve heard in a while. The band gets some good rhythms going and the vocals aren’t terrible either, fitting the older thrash style pretty well. But the band’s predictable formula tires out very quickly, and the political commentary of the lyrics is too cheesy and cringeworthy to ignore. It seems every year we get a handful of these kinds of albums that try to get into the simmering thrash revival with some ultra retro approach, and a good portion of those albums are from long-defunct bands who figure their primitive old-school approach might be a selling point despite their sounds often being even more juvenile against the backdrop of today’s metal landscape. So it’s not a huge surprise or anything to hear an album as ham-fisted and corny as United States of Anarchy; this year it just happened to be Evildead.

11. Five Finger Death Punch - F8

They may not always place highest in this list, but they always manage to make it here, and this was actually an improvement on the last album, not that that’s saying all that much. In fact, I’d say this is the only time in the band’s history that they actually shifted their trajectory upwards. But while the band’s ugly continual creative decay has been a hard thing to watch and made them the five finger punching bag of the metal world, there seems to be a large enough swath of mouthbreathing chuds who love their incoherent derivative shit and flock to their shows enough to put them in lucrative headlining slots and on top of the metal world. Goddamn that sure sounds a lot like someone else we all know doesn’t it. I’ve criticized them plenty in the past, and while indeed an improvement, F8 only mildly remedies the numerous problems with Five Finger Death Punch. Still septic to the system are the predictably formulaic and tiresome songwriting, the stale production, the corny butt rock choruses, the shitty bootlicking worldview that bleeds into Ivan Moody’s douchey and faux-deep lyrics, the contrived ballads and country-dabbling. Even with an improvement in the flow of the track listing and a few more bangers that somewhat hearken back to their first album, F8 is still an over-thought and overly calculated batch of Sirius XM fodder that’s trying to please everyone in some superficial way. I’ll grant that it seems as though the band realized they had been giving the more metal-immersed side of their fanbase that has been with them the longest smaller and smaller crumbs with each new album. I’m not gonna hold my breath for this being anything more than placating for the time being; I’m sure the next album will find the band back on whatever bullshit they feel (or their execs feel) they need to be on to pull enough streams from inattentive radio metal bros. I always end with the disclaimer that I still steadfastly stand by the band’s first two albums, and even American Capitalist to a degree, and that I totally acknowledge the immense potential for greatness this band could seemingly at any time decide to fulfill. Ivan Moody is a talented vocalist with a lot of star power and they really could have been the second coming of Pantera or singlehandedly ignited a new wave of American groove metal and metalcore or carried it on their own. But instead the band have followed the money on the path of least resistance to fast-track their way to the top of festival tickets, which I’m sure affords them quite enough luxury and comfort in life, more than most bands these days get, but it doesn’t exempt them from criticism, and unfortunately I think their legacy will show that they were a lowest common denominator kind of band at the end of the day when they could have been, again, like a second Pantera or something.

10. Anvil - Legal at Last

Another year, another album of Anvil unable to evolve past their prototypic thrash of their forty-year-old origins. Though as tacky as ever, Anvil actually also managed to make a mild improvement on their last album on the musical front at least. The songs are a little more energetic and easier to get through, if not for the lyricism though. Anvil lyrics are never anything beyond a fourth-grader’s poetry assignment for their English class, but some of the Facebook boomer lyrics here are fucking cringy dude. A quick look at the track listing will let you know exactly where you’re gonna find the juiciest cringe, but honestly, even as far as cringe goes it’s nothing comedically special and cringe culture in general is played out anyway. So do yourself a favor and just ignore Anvil the way they deserve to be ignored.

9. Halestorm - Reimagined

It feels a little harsh to place an EP here, especially for a band whose album back in 2018 was one of the best things I have heard to come out of hard rock in a long time. But these stripped back covers and revisions of songs from the band’s catalog just suck all the oomph out of them, perhaps making the case by contrast for the importance of the role the rest of the band behind the indeed charismatic powerhouse frontwoman Lzzy Hale play in making their sound what it is. It’s unlikely this points to any kind of new direction for them, so I’m not particularly worried about them running into this problem again. Plus, I don’t think Halestorm and Lzzy Hale are like fundamentally incompatible with more ballad-y rock music, this forced balladization of older songs just did not work, and it makes perfect sense as to why.

8. Gama Bomb - Sea Savage

The fact that this album is only number 8 on this list is just depressing for its reminder of just how much shittier it got this year. The fact that there are seven albums from this yet worse than Sea Savage, goddamn. With one exception, this was maybe the stupidest album I heard all year, at least in the thrash department it was. God this thing is a sugar high mess. I feel like a toddler on an entire bag of Halloween candy or an elementary schooler on a 2-liter of Mountain Dew sat at a computer to program a thrash album would’ve probably come up with something like this. The erratic operatic highs and dumbass lyrics, it all just embodies everything that ever made thrash look bad. It’s like that drunk guy at a party who’s hyper as shit and doing a bunch of crazy stunts for attention because he thinks it’ll make the people there like him more, but really he’s just embarrassing himself. Yeah, definitely the worst thrash metal album I heard all year, and one I wish I could unhear.

7. Amaranthe - Manifest

One of the albums I was avoiding but reviewed late out of my own weird sense of obligation that I wasn’t surprised to find only validated my reasons for avoiding it in the first place. The weird combo of dancy pop music and power metal isn’t as crazy of an idea as it might seem at first thought. In fact, that’s basically in part what Babymetal are doing, and actually getting better and better at. But Amaranthe get the worst of both worlds with Manifest, unsavory pop melodies and utterly generic symphonic metal to make for something I’m not at all surprised I was so repulsed by.

6. Trapt - Shadow Work

Yep, I listened to it. God, no wonder this band is flailing in irrelevance with aggressive MAGA nonsense being their only audible desperate plea for attention. The album, thank fuck, isn’t steeped in the same bitch boy tantrum that the band’s singer has engaged in all year to the point of getting his band’s Facebook page banned for hate speech, and the music isn’t like offensively poorly made or anything like that either. There’s clearly a conscious meeting of the baseline requirements for the type of music they make, but holy fuck it’s so damn flavorless and predictable. It’d be one thing if this was the trendy thing to be doing, but this diet hard rock for people who think Three Days Grace is too wild has been out of fashion for over a decade. And Trapt are just recycling the same dumb formula that overstayed it’s welcome in the early 2000’s. Yeah, I’m not surprised at all, but god, it’s the kind of thing that has to be apparent to the band themselves too unless they’re lacking of any and all self-awareness. Trapt have thrown themselves to the forefront of the online metal world’s discourse by being an annoying, toxic, and childish presence all year; the silver lining being the unity among metalheads in roasting their laughable posturing about their Pandora numbers and the juicy memes about their one hit “Headstrong” that rile the snowflake singer up without fail. And this shit album is just another reason to laugh at them and more fuel to roast their crybaby Trumper frontman with. Go back into your hole, Trapt. 3/10

5. Unleash the Archers - Abyss

I talked about it in my review, but there really is only one simple thing that sinks this album so low. And that is just how incredibly low-effort and lifeless it is with a genre that’s supposed to be so life-affirming. Power metal isn’t the most highly revered genre in metal, but that’s just for its cheesiness. I love it; when it’s at its best, it’s some of the most inspiring metal music out there and I genuinely wish there was a bigger demand across the board for it. But Unleash the Archers just sound so flat and unenthusiastic in this album, and, sorry, in power metal, unabashed enthusiasm is just nonnegotiable. The guitar parts are phoned in and lacking in imagination, and the vocals especially are so narrow-range, it’s all so antithetical to the ethos of power metal and it doesn’t make a strong case for itself. I’ll leave it there; this album is lazy and lifeless so I feel no need to waste any of my time and work on it.

4. Burzum - Thûlean Mysteries

Ol’ Varg must’ve needed a new wizard hat or camouflage pants or whatever goofy shit he’s been doing since retiring the Burzum name to focus on his racism and LARPing because I thought Burzum was supposed to be finished. I thought you were done with Burzum, Varg. Apparently not too done to not dump an hour and a half of embarrassingly half-baked ambient dungeon synth song fragments that sound, so many of them, quite obviously unfinished. Varg Vikernes has been a washed-up shell of the musical god the various weirdos who idolize him make him out to be for a long time now, and it has shown in the gradually degrading work he had put out after his release from prison. Yet after clearly not caring about creating music in any meaningful way for a long time, Varg drops this heap of shit in his fans’ laps. I suppose they deserve it, but I’m sure some of them are delusional enough to lap it up with a smile on their face while still believing their white nationalist idol to be a musical genius. Again, it’s entirely dull ambient music, not metal at all, but it deserves to be shit upon for its astounding laziness and purposelessness.

3. Asking Alexandria - Like a House on Fire

Doubling down on exactly the unflattering crossover of pop music with their significantly sanitized butt rock in their apparent quest for arena glory that started with their self-titled album back in 2017, Asking Alexandria’s bid for the big spotlight that Imagine Dragons occupies didn’t get any stronger this year with Like a House on Fire. After three or four years of aiming for this style, the band still aren’t even all that competent with the basics of fucking pop rock, which is pretty downright laughable. Honestly, for an album so high up here on my shit list, my feelings on it are more or less just that of unsurprised disappointment; as soon as I got a feel for what the band were doing with the album, I knew it was going to be a mess of predictable results. And lo and behold. This was just such a wholly inexcusably floppy paper towel of an album, and one more Asking Alexandria release I know I won’t be returning to ever again.

2. Hollywood Undead - New Empire, Vol. 2

Coming on at the last minute to get on the scoreboard, reliably, is Hollywood Undead. When I reviewed both volumes of this project earlier, I referred to them as “corporate Linkin Park”, and I stand by that 100%. This album especially showcases nothing but what an incoherent, vapid, clout-chasing act they are, with such a corny, focus-grouped sound that sounds like it was made in a lab by a bunch of out-of-touch boomers. God, they could’ve been safe too if they had left it with the more tolerable first volume back in January, but this follow-up sequel from just this month was exactly why I had avoided listening to the first installment in the first place. And I should’ve never played this second one either. The album opener, “Medicate”, is probably the worst song I sat through in my own volition this year, and the rest of the album doesn’t get much better. It’s nothing new for Hollywood Undead after I gave their 2017 album my award for least favorite album of that year: more unfitting interplay between machismo posturing Eminem-cosplay and the sappiest, wimpiest radio rock and pop choruses; more cringy tough-guy struggle bars; more forgettable-at-best instrumentals. Congrats again, Hollywood Undead, you made one of the worst albums of the year once again.

But even worse than Hollywood Undead is an album that I feel like is already so legendarily bad, that there is no other album that could’ve been sat here. It had to be this one.

1. Six Feet Under - Nightmares of the Decomposed

Shitty metal bands everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief any year Six Feet Under decide to put out new music because any album they release is just about bound to end up as everyone’s #1 worst album of the year, and boy is that guarantee becoming more and more airtight with each successive release. It’s truly astounding too how Six Feet Under manages to outdo themselves every time. I don’t even want to think about what could possibly come after Nightmares of the Decomposed; we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But for now, holy fermented shit, this thing is not just bad, it’s like the holy grail of terrible TERRIBLE albums and I don’t want to know what kind of apocalyptically despicable album Chris Barnes and company could possibly conjure to outdo this one. And make no mistake, it’s still Chris Barnes dragging this band down. I gave this album a 1/10 instead of a 0/10 because there was at least a sliver of salvageable instrumentation on it, as thin of a sliver as it was, a few halfway decent musical ideas of you squinted hard enough. The instrumentalists are checked out and clearly just participating for the paycheck, but I can’t even imagine what kind of professional instrumental performance could possibly overshadow the embarrassment that Chris Barnes put to tape in the studio here. Maybe that says it, because it honestly sounds utterly unprofessional. It’s baffling how this got through management and sound engineering to be released to the public because I don’t think I’ve ever even heard any amateur high school band’s vocalist sound this bad. Vocal ingenuity is generally something to be applauded in the metal world, and pioneers like Randy Blythe, Dani Filth, and Travis Ryan deserve all the praise they get for their innovation with dirty metal vocals, yet what Chris Barnes has “invented” here on Nightmares of the Decomposed to compensate for his continually-deteriorating vocals is just sad. The man simply cannot perform highs anymore, clearly, and the alternative is this fucking comical, cartoonish squealing that sounds more like a bratty toddler gargling their own snot than it does anything fitting for a death metal record, even a death metal record at stupid and cheesy as Nightmares of the Decomposed. Chris Barnes should be thankful that metal is not a sport and that there’s not nearly as much of an abundance of performance statistics to point to and analyze to see what kind of records are broken in a legendarily awful performance. I feel like if there were any kind of performance stats to pull up, this album would have to break some kinds of records. Like this is worse than that 7-1 Germany-Brazil World Cup game, this would be like if the Brazilian team all got unholy levels of blazed and repeatedly scored on themselves because they kept going the wrong way and kicking the ball into their own net, and then pissing their fucking shorts. Even in 7-1 defeat, Brazil had more dignity than Chris Barnes here. Six Feet Under and their label have to know they are a laughing stock and that people will listen to them at this point for the sheer entertainment value of how mind-blowingly awful they sound. It’s not an illegitimate marketing tactic, and it’s the only explanation I can come up with for how this passed inspection. If that’s their mission, to be a spectacle and instill cringe in death metal fans in a regular ritual of comically stupid performances across every successive album, they’re sure doing it, and I guess this baffling headache-trophy is their well-earned prize. Congratulations Six Feet Under, you did it again! Worst metal album of the year.

#metal #heavy metal #worst albums of 2020 #hard rock #thrash metal #groove metal #alternative metal #butt rock #acoustic rock #power metal #dungeon synth #ambient #ambient music #metalcore #arena rock #pop rock #alternative rock #death metal

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aliveanddrunkonsunlight · 4 years

Text

The Sleepless In Seattle AU no one asked for. (Most of the dialogue is borrowed directly from the movie, so thank you, Nora Ephron.)

Sleepless on Sevenmas

“Tyrion, if this is a prank, you’ve outdone yourself,” the man drawls, sarcasm dripping. Brienne wonders if he’s drunk. “This is quite extravagant. Now, who is this?”

“Melisandre of Asshai with Network Westerosi,” the woman replies firemly. “You are on the air.”

There’s a long pause and the man directs the question to someone, “You called the radio station?”

“Are you with me, Sleepless on Sevenmas?”

“Jaime. My name’s Jaime,” he practically growls.

Sleepless on Sevenmas

“We’re engaged!” Hyle announces so abruptly during Sevenmas Eve dinner, Brienne nearly chokes on her ham.

The table explodes. It is precisely the kind of attention Brienne does not like, but Hyle basks in. She is mildly swayed by the delight on everyone’s faces as they congratulate them. Hyle’s family has always been very welcoming towards her and although it will never be the familial comfort of her brother, Galladon, or the quiet love she and her father share, it is heartwarming to feel so embraced and adored by your significant other’s family.

After dinner, Hyle’s mom, sister, and aunt usher her away from everyone else, wanting to know if she has started thinking about venues, dresses, or flowers. It occurs to her then, she truly is the most unlikely person to get married simply because she doesn’t care about any of the details. She simply wants to live a life with someone she cares about and who cares for her. It’s something she never thought she would find and she is grateful everyday to find someone as solid and steady as Hyle.

Brienne says goodbye to him outside the house, feeling as if his whole family has their noses pushed up against the glass watching. She is driving to the ferry in order to be able to spend Sevenmas morning with her father while Hyle plans to join them later in the day.

The night is very still. She flips on the radio for noise, for company, switching through several stations of Sevenmas songs. One seems to be playing them backwards, so she switches quickly to the next station, and hears a woman’s soothing voice, one which instantly reminds her of her mother’s.

However, this woman seems to be doling out unwarranted advice. Brienne doubts she has any credentials for this type of work. It’s mindless noise until she reaches the ferry, she tells herself. Better than those inane Sevenmas songs.

“Our next caller,” the woman’s voice soothes, “is Sleepless on Sevenmas. Hello?”

“Hello?” A male voice replies. “Who is this?” he asks suspiciously.

“This is Melisandre of Asshai and you’re on Network Westerosi.”

“Oh, really? What are you selling tonight? Those replica swords? I already have several in my office.” The fact that the man doesn’t seem to know what he’s gotten roped into makes Brienne feel sorry for him, and she nearly switches off the radio in second hand embarrassment, but his jape about the replica swords makes her laugh. She knows exactly the ones she means. Hyle gave her one, The Just Maiden, for her name day last year because she was a distant descendant of Ser Galladon.

“No, I’m not selling anything. I just want to help. I want you to know that your nephew called and asked for some advice on how you might find a new wife.”

“Tyrion, if this is a prank, you’ve outdone yourself,” the man drawls, sarcasm dripping. Brienne wonders if he’s drunk. “This is quite extravagant. Now, who is this?”

“Melisandre of Asshai with Network Westerosi,” the woman replies firmly. “You are on the air.”

There’s a long pause and the man directs the question to someone, “You called the radio station?”

“Are you with me, Sleepless on Sevenmas?”

“Jaime. My name’s Jaime,” he practically growls.

“Jaime,” she repeats softly. “Your nephew feels that since your wife’s death you’ve been very, very unhappy and he’s genuinely worried about you.” Brienne can tell Melisandre is genuinely concerned, even if her advice may do little to staunch the man’s broken heart.

“Get out here. Get out here. Come on now, I’m not going to go through this alone.” She can imagine the man gesturing to his nephew, who can’t be more than 8 or 9, to come sit with him on the couch. She wonders if their home is decorated, if there are carefully wrapped presents waiting for tomorrow, if there is family invited to celebrate with them.

“I think it’s very hard for him to talk to you about all this, and I thought maybe if you and I could talk, it would make Tommen feel a little better. Jaime?”

“Talk to her. She’s a priestess,” the little boy says softly and Brienne’s heart nearly breaks.

“A priestess of what? Her first name could be priestess,” the man jokes and Brienne recognizes it immediately as a way to deflect attention, to avoid talking about the hurt he carries inside. She keeps hers carefully hidden away, too.

“Melisandre will be fine.” The woman’s voice can cut through bullshit one moment and yet is gentle and understanding the next. “Jaime, it’s Tommen’s Sevenmas wish.”

“Fine.” The man sighs, resigned.

“Okay, good. Now, I know this is difficult but how long ago did your wife die?”

The brittle sarcasm drops out of Jaime’s voice. “About a year and a half ago.”

“Okay. Have you had any relationships since?” Her voice remains delicate, soothing, trying not to scare a frightened animal

“Uh, no,” he scoffs, as if the idea was ridiculous.

“No? Why not?”

“Melisandre, I don’t mean to be rude…” Brienne can hear the wariness in his voice again.

“Oh, and I don’t want to invade your privacy,” the woman tries.

Now it’s Brienne’s turn to scoff, rolling her eyes. “Sure you do,” she says aloud, just as the stranger on the radio says the same. “Sure you do.” Surprised they share a sense of skepticism, it draws a smile across her face.

Melisandre is not so easily defeated, because she continues on, pressing him gently. “Go on, Jaime. I’m listening.”

Jaime sighs. “We had a pretty tough time there at first. But, we’re dealing with it. Tommen and I will get along just fine again, as soon as I break his phone.”

The woman laughs. Brienne is smiling. Underneath his cynicism, there is kindness and gentleness towards his nephew. She recognizes Jaime without even knowing him.

“I have no doubt that you’re a wonderful uncle to Tommen.”

“I’m his guardian. He lives with me and we try to take care of each other, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Tommen replies in his sweet little voice.

“That’s wonderful. But something must be missing if he still feels you are under a cloud,” Melisandre suggests and Brienne finds herself waiting anxiously for Jaime’s reply. When there isn’t one, she continues on. “Okay, just a few questions. Are you sleeping at night?”

“He doesn’t sleep at all,” his nephew answers for him.

“How do you know that?”

“I live here.”

“Look. It’s Sevenmas. Uh, Ellie, my wife, she really did it. I mean, she loved, uh...She made everything beautiful.” Quiet falls over the line. Everyone waits for him to speak. The heartbreak in his voice is palpable and Brienne finds tears in the corners of her eyes. She wipes them away, her mind traveling to her mother’s death, the darkness which settled over her father’s face and has never really left him. “It’s tough this time of year. Tommen misses his mother. I miss…” he trails off, unable to finish.

“Could it be you need someone just as much as Tommen does?”

The silence lays across the airwaves, across the miles between Brienne and wherever Jaime is, and she whispers into the darkness, “Yes.”

Melisandre tells him not to answer and they need to take a break. As soon as the sponsored ads begin, it jolts Brienne out of her reverie, the sounds of other cars passing by, the noise of the highway. She shakes her head. She must be more tired than she thought and pulls over to get some coffee.

“I bet he’s tall and has a cute butt,” one of the waitresses in the diner says to the other as Brienne steps inside.

“I bet he hasn’t bathed in weeks and he stinks,” the other replies in a thick Dornish accent.

“Shut up.” The first one glances up to see Brienne. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“A coffee black, please.”

“No problem, lovely.” She winks at her and turns to grab the coffee pot. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t kick this guy out of bed for eating crackers, you know what I mean?” the woman continues to her friend. Brienne frowns, unsure who they could be speaking about, as the diner is nearly empty.

But then she hears the radio is turned down low. They were listening to Sleepless in Sevenmas too. Whatever connection she felt moments ago in her car is less special than she imagined and Brienne feels silly for thinking it at all. She has someone. She shouldn’t be lusting after some random man on the radio.

“It’s not like this guy is much of a secret as they want to make us believe,” the woman with the thick accent speaks up. “Ellie? Come on. That has to be Elia Martell. He’s a rich asshole who would have no interest in any of us. It’s probably why he hasn’t found a new wife yet. So I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him.”

She opens her mouth to defend Jaime, but none of them really know him. His image is softened by his nephew, a dead wife, and a broken heart, but the waitress is probably right. He could be a jerk. Someone not deserving of their affections. Especially not when she has a good man like Hyle, someone she never thought would take any interest in her, but now wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

And yet.

She keeps listening. “If there is one question I could ask you,” Melisandre prompts.

“Oh, go ahead.” Despite what she realized in the diner, she feels drawn to him, to his voice.

“People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again. Jaime, do you think that there is someone out there you could love as much as your wife?”

“Well. That’s hard to imagine.” He takes a long breath. “But maybe. One day.”

#jaime x brienne #braime fanfiction #advent calendar fics #december fic prompts #advent calendar 2019

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Ten CCs of Sass || Ricky and Kaden

TIMING: A few days after Ricky took on an asanbosam and after Kaden’s mime stabbing PARTIES: @ricky-corderbro and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Best roommates ever.

Kaden was starting to lose track of time in this stupid place. It was hard to know when was what when there were no windows in the room and time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. But he was pretty sure he remembered the layout of the room. And this was not it. Everything was similar but slightly off somehow. “Regan?” he asked, knowing full well he didn’t see her or Blanche or anyone else babysitting him at the moment. Maybe he hoped they would pop up around a corner or something. Still, no answer. But there was a fucking curtain halfway open and another patient on the other side. Putain de merde, just when he thought this fucking hell pit couldn’t get any worse. They must have moved his fucking bed in the night and now he had a goddamn roommate. And better yet, his IVs were taped down so thoroughly to his arm, he was pretty sure getting them off was going to take a solid ten minutes and take off hair and maybe even a little skin. He was thoroughly stuck. Fuck.

All in all it had not been Ricky’s favorite week. While thankfully they’d put him under for the harrowing process of putting his ribs back together and removing a portion of one of them from his lung, the pain afterwards had been almost enough to make him wish the asanbosam had finished him off. Sleep had been an elusive target, and it was only after a nurse had come in and given him something to knock him out that he’d managed a couple of hours. Waking up though, had brought a resurgence of pain everytime his heart beat and he took a breath, and it wasn’t until he heard a voice asking for someone named Regan that he realized how fucked his day was truly about to get. He recognized that voice, even if the last time he’d heard it they’d been on a rickety boat arguing about saving lives. He also knew that that voice was attached to someone he’d promised to try to kill, even if he was in no position to actually take action on the threat, “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” he rasped out, voice still not up to par, “Did I actually die? I must have. This has to be fucking hell if I’m stuck here with you”

Kaden’s brows knit together. Something about that voice sounded vaguely familiar. He turned to get a better look at his new roommate. “Putain.” He groaned. It was the fucking do gooder lifegarud boy who was probably some kind of monster. Or knew a few. Of fucking course they ended up in the same room at the same time. What a cherry on top of being stabbed by a mime a few times the other day. “You’re right about one thing, this is fucking hell.” Kaden wanted to throw something but there was nothing but the pillow in reach to toss and, uh, he didn’t want to have to call a nurse to come pick it up off the floor. “The hell happened to you, anyway? Have a run in with a perfectly innocent supernatural monster? Or did your dudley do-right routine finally screw you over?”

Through the haze of pain and pain meds Ricky could feel Kaden’s voice grating on his every nerve, “Jesus fucking christ. Of course it’s fucking you” He attempted to push himself slightly more upright and was rewarding with a white hot pain shooting through his chest, “God. Do you ever tire of the sound of your own fucking voice? I will reach into my chest, pull out one of the many fragments of ribs floating around in there, and stab you in the fucking eye with it if it’s going to net me a reprieve from your sanctimonious bullshit.” He resigned himself to staying laying down and sighed, “You know, fuckhead mcfuckstick, there are those of us capable of distinguishing between an animalistic monster that lacks sentience, and a perfectly harmless member of the supernatural community. I’m sorry you somehow failed Humanity 101”

This little shit really thought he talked too much? Kaden scoffed. “You should ask yourself that. I’m not the one ranting over there.” He started picking at the tape on his arm as the kid ranted the same bullshit grumbling he’d heard a million times before. More colorful than most, he’d give him that, but more of the same. “Fuckhead mcfuckstick, that’s a new one.” He shrugged and continued to try and peel the tape away so he could try and leave before things got any worse. “So how’d that distinguishing go for you? Broken ribs, you said? Sounds like you had a really wonderful encounter.”

“It seemed fitting, given that you are both a fuckhead, and a fuckstick, and I’m Irish so we add Mc to everything.” Ricky rolled his eyes and managed to find the controller for his bed, raising himself so he was sitting upright, “Well it went great. Since I very clearly distinguished that an asanbosam is not a contributing member of society and is instead an animalistic hunter. But these were things I knew before. But you know something about being an animalistic hunter don’t you?” His breath came short for a few moments and he stopped talking, breathing as deeply as he could and balling his fists to try to work through the pain, “We were ambushed. Broken ribs, punctured lung. But I lived so, that’s something. They’re not great ones to run into.”

Irish. Noted. Kaden was sure he’d have plenty of time to figure out what kind of monster he was sharing a room with. Unfortunately. “Asanbosam? Too bad no one was around to stake it. If only there had been an animalistic hunter nearby. Guess they were all at home.” Or stuck in a fucking hospital. “That or no one thought you were particularly worth saving. Shame, you clearly handled it so well on your own.” Still, sounded like the kid had it worse over there than he did. “You got lucky. Even with all that.” Not that he was glad he was okay. That wasn’t his concern at all. “Ran into one of those the other week, seem to be out in force with all the eternal darkness shit going on. Almost stole someone up into the trees.”

“I managed just fine. No deaths, so, that’s a win. It’s currently somewhere in the forest trying desperately to get the rosary I knotted around it’s ankle free. They’re particularly averse to religious iconography.” While most children had a childhood full of nursery rhymes, a solid portion of Ricky’s home education had been the various varieties of vampire that would inevitably try to attack him; he knew a fair few of them by heart. “Ah yes, there’s that good old Hunter “judge, jury, and executioner” mentality that we all know and love so much. Good to know whatever didn’t do a good enough job of killing you left you up on your high horse.” Ricky reached for his phone on the bedside table, scrolling through several texts in all capital letters before deciding that was a problem for later in the afternoon, “I always hated the idea of those fuckers.” He muttered, trying to find a more comfortable position that didn’t put pressure on, well, anything. “Iron teeth. Prehensile tail. They’re straight out of some dnd dungeon master’s nightmare. What the hell is a west African vampire doing in Maine, though?”

“Oh are they? Wow, gee, I never fucking knew that. Slayed my first vampire at age ten but wow, thanks for that riveting new information. Where would I be without you?” Kaden rolled his eyes. He just told the guy he’d encountered an asanbosam the other week, so he would’ve thought he wouldn’t go and explain the obvious to him but guess he was wrong. “Yeah well, sorry to disappoint you by my survival. But if you tell me where that fucking thing was I can probalby deal with once I’m out of here. Or get someone else to. You know, if you can lower yourself off that pedastool to cooperate with an animalistic hunter for two fucking minutes.” This was going to be a long goddamn day. God help him if was two. He wasn’t sure he could survive that. The tape on his arm must have been something akin to duct tape because it wasn’t budging. At this point he wasn’t sure he cared if Regan insisted he stayed the full two plus days. No way would he last that long. “They’re a pain in the ass. Species origin doesn’t really seem to be a barrier to entry in White Crest. I mean, for fuck sakes, the sky’s been dark for a few solid weeks now and you’re questioning how an African vampire got here? This place is fucking weird.”

Kaden’s abrasive voice was honestly on par with the subtle grinding and shifting of his ribs that he could still feel every time he breathed, “God. It just so fucking shocking to me that you’re top of seemingly everybody’s ‘kill him becore he kills us’ list. People skills like yours you should be in public relations. As to the where would you be? Fish food. We’ve gone over this. You’d be fish food.” Ricky let talk of killing a roommate fall silent as a nurse came in to administer meds and bring up his breakfast tray… which was seemingly full of things he didn’t want or couldn’t really eat. One insipid slice of ham seemed to be about the only thing he trusted, and he quickly ate it, keeping his face turned away from Kaden so there were no erstwhile glimpses of fangs, before pushing the tray and the rolling table away, “I don’t want the rest of that, if you’re feeling extra peckish.” He could feel the gentle wave of pain meds crashing on the beach of his mind and pulled his phone towards him, tapping out replies to texts as he listened to Kaden prattle on in the singularly sanctimonious way that he seemed to have cornered the fucking market on, “Yeah as long as there’s a fucking tree vamp wandering the forests near my home attacking members of my community I’m going to fucking question it. But in answer to the question that was sandwiched between the insults… it was the forests to the north of the Docks, bout half a mile before the bridge to Harris Island. It felled a tree right in front of my truck, blocked the road.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I thanked you already, alright.” Kaden bristled at the reminder that he was somewhat in debt to the other man for saving his life. Fucking hated that. Normally he made it easy enough for him to push that aside but then it would rear its ugly head. Still, he noted where that vampire was last seen; he’d be sure to kill it once he was out of there. Not long after, a second nurse came in to give Kaden his tray full of what he assumed was awful lumps of sadness pretending to be food. He wasn’t wrong. The food looked awful, alright, but that wasn’t what his eyes were focused on. No, his eyes went straight to the black and white striped shirt folded neatly with a beret on top and the red blood stains seeped into it. His eyes grew wide with confusion and his pulse picked up as he looked at the nurse. She gave absolutely no indication that anything was out of the ordinary and simply smiled and asked if there was anything else he needed. Kaden was stunned for a moment but it didn’t take long for him to flip the try, tossing it away from him the way someone might flick away a bug that had crawled onto them. He tried to quell the panic that was rising up in him. The nurse just looked confused, not like she was going to kill him on the spot. Which was good, but honestly he still wished he had a weapon in hand. Then she shook her head and looked around like she was unsure of what room she was in or what hat just happened. “Did I do that?” she asked, looking at the try and bending down to pick it up. “I’m sorry, I’ll bring you another tray. Is that your shirt?” Kaden shook his head. “Uh, no. Not-- No, that’s not my shirt. And you didn’t-- Sorry, I lost control of the…” He wanted to run more than ever, his hand reaching for the metal stand where the bags of fluids were hanging. It’d be a decent blunt weapon in a pinch. “Oh, that’s alright. I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, all the fallen food and tray in hand and left with a smile, like nothing ever happened. “Putain de merde, what the actual fuck?”

“It’s really hard to take the thanks seriously when it’s always tied to some sort of insane purge-and-purify human-centric rhetoric. Really sort of dulls the shine on that particular compliment.” He’d been focused on his phone and not on the speciesist fuck in the bed next to him when there was suddenly a ruckus that made him snap his head over to look at that side of the room. “What the absolute fuck you lunatic?” Ricky was so taken aback by the scene that he attempted to push himself out of bed to help clean it up, before bolts of white hot pain reminded him why he didn’t do that, “oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck oh fuck.” The nurse’s response to the whole ordeal was what really made him narrow his eyes, “What…. What the fuck is happening over there.” A tiny spot of red appeared on the bandage around his chest and started to grow fractionally, “Well that’s not good. But… that wasn’t normal. What the fuck landed you in here? I mean I had just assumed it was something along the lines of “finally got what was coming to him” but that was fucking weird.”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s--” he started. Kaden’s eyes darted back and forth between where the tray had just fallen and the door. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to slow his breath, bring his pulse back to normal. He let out a deep sigh, trying to rationalize that nothing else was coming in, no one else was there, it was probably safe. But Regan wasn’t back yet. What if something happened to her? Fuck. “Uh, shit. Don’t fucking laugh,” he told his current rommate as he rubbed his palms against the sheets, trying to dry the sweat off them. “I’m here cause I got stabbed by a fucking mime.” He thought about hitting the call button, get another nurse in here. But what if that didn’t help? What if that’s what brought another possessed person to send him more warnings and threats? Shit. He was more or less defenseless if someone came back for him. This is why he fucking hated hosptials (among all the other reasons). “So yeah, that striped shirt, it, uh-- Fuck.” He felt like such a paranoid idiot.

Ricky didn’t really think of himself as a cruel man. He tried to do right by his friends and his neighbors, be a good upstanding member of the community, and generally behave in a way that would make his mother proud of him; since she was his metric for what a good person should be. But the minute Kaden a) told him not to laugh and b) mentioned he’d gotten stabbed by a fucking mime, Ricky knew he was in a losing battle where all of his attempts to be good were going to falter in the face of a chance to ridicule his enemy. The laugh bubbled up inside of him and the piercing pain in his chest battled for dominance but he couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter, shaking slightly in his bed, “Oh god…. Oh my fucking god…. I”m sorry I’m sorry… did you… did you… the great fucking hunter… bane of the supernatural… did you fucking get put in the hospital by a goddamn mime?!” His laugh turned into a painful cough and he bit down abruptly, a fang piercing his lip “ow fuck.” The laughter died down and he shook his head, “Ahh it feels good and at the same time fucking terrible to laugh. How… how did you manage to get stabbed by a fucking mime?! Was it even a real knife or was this just some A+ really top of the line pantomime that this fucker did?”

Well that was one way to quell the panic. Kaden could feel the anger rising up as the other man laughed. No, fucking cackled. “Shut it!” He looked down at the edge of the bed where his tray fell. Maybe there was still a shitty clementine or something he could chuck at Ricky’s fucking head. No luck. There was still a beret, though. It’d have to do. He scooped it up, scrunched it into a ball, and threw it across the room. He practically huffed as he stewed over on his bed, but a quick glance over to his roommate practically splitting his stitches and he saw it. It was subtle enough, but there was no denying those were fucking big ass fangs sticking out while he cackled. Well that answered that question he was pretty sure he already had the answer to: Monster. What kind, he’d figure out later. Couldn’t be undead if he had a heartbeat to monitor, he knew that much. And couldn’t be a wolf since he didn’t send all of Kaden’s hairs on edge. “Putain, yes it was a real fucking knife, connard! He was fucking possessed or cursed or some shit! Broke into the restaurant and just b-lined to stab me and wouldn’t fucking stop until he died.” It was goddamn karmic watching Ricky in pain over his laughter. Deserved at least that much.

“Oh no, Fuckstick McMimeChow, you have to deal with this fucking laughter because it is infinitely hilarious that a hunter got hospitalized by a motherfucking mime.” Ricky allowed the beret to hit him in the face if only because Kaden deserved at least that tiny victory, and as he held hit in his hands he took as subtle a smell of it as he could, but picked up nothing more than dollar store shampoo and dried blood, “Well… while you can make the argument that choosing ‘mime’ as your profession is in and of itself a curse… he was definitely human.” He threw the beret to the foot of Kaden’s bed, “but I’d wash your hands. There’s blood on that.” Pressing a slightly trembling hand to his chest; the pain was now greater than the mirth he’d received at Kaden’s attack, “That’s gotta be like… top three for shitty dinners. I mean I’ve had some bad fucking meals in my day and while I’ve had both a beer and a dinner roll thrown at me on separate occasions nobody’s actually stabbed me before. Did you kill this maniacal mime or did he just… I don’t know… suddenly expire after coming into contact with undiluted Blood of Douchebag.”

If Kaden had something else to throw, he would have. Instead all he could do was glower at the laughter. “Congrats, Detective pain in the ass, I figured that much out. Of course he was human. Problem was you didn’t see him. The look in his eye. It was like the lights were out but he was going through the motions anway. Really fucking determinedly, too.” At Ricky's evaluation of the beret, he looked down at his hands and decided to just wipe them off on the side of the bed again, in case there was any blood. “We barely got to wine let alone dinner. So yeah, I’d say so.” He sighed, thinking about the poor chardonnay that was the only thing that was murdered that night. What a waste. His head snapped to face his current roommate at his last comment. “Hey, I did not kill him! I mean I didn’t take it lying down, but I’m not a murderer, alright!”

“I’m really feeling like you’re not putting the same energy into this rivalry I am, Kaden. I come up with Fuckstick McMimeChow and you counter with Detective Pain in the ass? I’m a little hurt.” Ricky shot as withering a look as he could manage across the room, “Are you sure that was a curse/possession and not just… you know… people’s kneejerk reaction to being in your presence? I know I always get the urge to stab you repeatedly.” Watching Kaden wipe his hands on the bed he listened before chuffing a sigh of a laugh, “Wait wait wait… did you get stabbed by a mime on a fucking date? Jesus fucking Christ talk about just compounded shit luck. That’s just… woof. I don’t even have anything cutting or scathing for that… that’s just… that’s just rough.” Any pity he might have felt for the other man quickly evaporated however, “Oh yes. This old chestnut. I spend my life hunting things down but am somehow not a murderer. What is this… verse 78 now?”

“Sorry, what can I say. I don’t spend as much time thinking about you as you think about me.” Kaden rolled his eyes at the remark. “He came into the restaurant seemingly just to stab me. I know I’ve pisseed people off but that just doesn’t track, alright. I never saw the guy before. And yeah I was on a fucking date, alright. Shocking as it may be. Still not sure if it’s one of the worst dates I’ve been on.” He sighed at the remark. Of course, couldn’t get through one conversation without the bleeding heart bullshit. “Look you don’t have to fucking agree with me but don’t act like you don’t know where I stand. Murder is when you kill people and monsters aren’t people. Been over this.” There was a long stretch of silence and it seemed like they might be done snipping for the moment. Fine by him, but the whole place was too quiet. And he couldn’t bear to sit and watch this shitty infomercial. He waited a moment, maybe he could just sleep or something. But he wasn’t tired. “Hey, uh, I think you have the remote. Can you change the thing. The Price is Right is about to come on.”

“Jesus. And I thought my fucking love life was grim. You make me look like a fucking Casanova if that wasn’t one of your worst dates. Am I surprised? No. But still… blech. Poor woman. I’m just assuming you’re straight because I’m fervently praying you’re not gay. We don’t want you on our team. Please stay far the fuck away.” It was still a little surprising how robotic and immediate the return to the hunter party line was. There was almost a moment, for just the briefest of seconds, where Ricky had thought that they were actually on the road to… well whatever was one step above immediately homicidal. But all of that was swept away in an instant as they returned to ground zero. A zone which did not net Kaden any tv privileges. “Sorry.” He picked up the remote and plucked its batteries out, tossing the powerless shell to the other man, “Sharing is what people do.” He smiled a wide bright smile, every perfectly maintained fang shining in the horrible hospital lighting, “and I guess I just don’t qualify. Besides…. Price is Right with no Bob Barker? One of us is the monster here and it isn’t me.” This was going to be the longest hospital stay ever.

#chatzy #writing #wickedswriting #ten ccs of sass #ricky #rickycorderbro

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