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jaedore · 3 years ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 | 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jaehyun x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mythology!au, angst, romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, suggestive (just making out lol), mentions of alcohol, violence (mentions of choking)

𝐚/𝐧: if you are uncomfortable with these themes then i highly suggest you no longer interact! also, thoughts/emphasis are italicized. I'll just put the header on when I have the patience bc I felt like this is long overdue

[4.5k words]

You woke up finding your body was stiff and sore. It overpowered the pain in your wounded knees that stung with every movement of your limbs. Yesterday seemed like days ago, it felt like a fever dream. No, a nightmare. All you wanted to do was just curl up in bed, but then you remembered that your mother and you were having dinner at Jaehyun’s place. You’ve never gone to the Underworld, you didn’t hear many good things about it and that terrified you. What if Cerberus ate you? What if a wandering, lost soul stole your soul? The questions were endless and it sent you down a spiral of nervousness.

“Y/n?” Your mother softly came in, an apron hung around her neck and the aroma of breakfast food seeped into your room.

“Morning, mom,” you croaked.

“How are you feeling?”

Your mind flashed back to yesterday; Jaehyun in your room, tending your wounds, being flirtatious, or whatever. You remembered it as clear as the Fountain of Youth.

“I’m fine,” you answered, swiping the sheets away from your body to peer at the wounds.

You gently peeled back the bandage a bit only to see that the wound was almost gone. It held a faint discoloration as it was in the process of healing, but you were impressed nonetheless.

“So,” your mother began as she sat on the edge of your bed, “tonight, I was thinking about bringing a pasta dish. Or should we bring a cake? A pie maybe?”

“We can just pick up a pie from the bakery,” you brushed your hand in the air, dismissing any ideas, “it’ll be easier anyways.”

“Ah, yes. Hades does like his spicy chocolate pies,” your mother hums as she smoothes her palm against your bedsheet.

“Ugh, I don’t know how he eats that stuff,” you grumble, swinging your legs off your bed.

“Well, he is the God of the Underworld,” she raises both of her eyebrows at you, “so, what will you be doing today? It’s super nice out.”

Peering at your window, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The sky is bare of clouds and it does seem like a beautiful day today. You can imagine yourself sitting in the grass with a book in your palms. But you had more important things to do today, like beating the shit out of Maeve.

Your shoulders slump as you reply, “I’m going to go train with Mark.”

“You’re always training with that boy,” she narrows her eyes at you, “are you in love with him?”

“Mother!” You raise your voice, snapping your head to her, “No, I am not.”

Athena only laughs at your reply as she gets up and makes her way out of your room.

“Hey, Y/n?” her voice stops you before you step into the bathroom.

“Yes, mom?”

“You know you can tell me anything right?” she asks, her voice sweet and loving.

You nodded, recalling the things that happened last night at the beach. You haven’t told her and she must be worried, but you’re too drained and confused to spill it. So you spare her a small smile as you walk into the bathroom, not saying a word about what happened.

“Come on! You can hit harder!”

Annoyed at Mark’s ‘words of encouragement’, you purse your lips as you attempt to hit the boxing pad with your mitts. You were beginning to get tired, your arms burned from the repetitive movements and your knees ached as it chased after your feet. Mark hasn’t given you a break since you’ve gotten here and it’s almost been an hour of constant hitting.

Growing frustrated, you shouted in protest, “I’m done!” you throw your mitts on the dirt.

Mark sighs, seeing the frustration in your eyes, “Okay, what’s really going on?”

You exhale a short breath, “Nothing you’d be interested in,” you answer him sharply as you walk towards one of the rocks to sit on. Mark follows you closely, but quietly afraid to set off the fuming bomb of anger you always held.

“You know,” he starts, “I’ve heard a lot of mysterious things about you,” he plops right next to you.

You curl your legs up to your chest as you stare forward at the waterfall, “Like what?” you mumble, really not interested in what he’s heard because it’s all been bad stuff.

“You tell me,” Mark shrugs.

You tighten your hold on your legs, “I think someone’s out to get me,” you whisper.

Mark leans in to hear you clearer, “Maeve?” he whispers back.

You shudder, her name bringing back awful memories, “Yeah, but I’m not sure why. I have nothing that has to do with her. Sure, I provoked her on the first day, but...it wasn’t severe to draw it out this far.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

You explained what happened last night at the beach party. You quivered as you retold the story from your perspective. It was a vivid nightmare that you didn’t know how to wake.

“Where is Lucas now?” Mark asked.

You fumed at the male’s name. He hasn’t texted or called you since last night. He would be the key to all of your answers, but he wouldn’t answer any of your messages or calls. Lucas was friendly, always nice, and shined bright like the sun. You just wondered what he was up to.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, picking up the mitts from the ground, “come on. We came here to train. Plus, I want to forget it all.”

Mark quickly jumps to his feet, “do you think this has anything to do with the feud between Hades, your mother, and her’s?”

You tilted your head to the side, “What feud?”

Mark smirked, “Guess you don’t know then.”

“Mark,” you lowered your voice when he dismissed your question, “what. Feud?”

“I’ll tell you if you can beat me,” he said, picking up the other pair of mitts that laid on the ground.

Storming into your house, you shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me about the feud you had with Hades and Eris?”

Taken aback, she looked at you with wide eyes, almost dropping the spoon she held, “w-what are you talking about?”

You inhaled, “Why didn’t you tell me that after the Titan War, Hades, and apparently Zeus, imprisoned Eris in Tartarus? And that you were helping them and now she’s after me, possibly because of it?”

“Who told you that?” your mother calmly put down the spoon and rubbed her palms on her thighs.

“Does that really matter right now, mom?” your voice rose in anger.

“Sit down,” she wipes her hand on a napkin, discarding it as she walks towards you, who begins to be seated at the dinner table.

“Eris and I were good friends, we trained together as kids. She was good, almost better than me, but there was always the tension of competition between us. One could only be good in the eyes of Zeus so we grew up and trained with that mindset. As we got older, we were still good friends, but there was always that silent tension between us. When the Titan war came to be, Eris rebelled and fought against us,” your mother sighed, anguish tainting the streaks of her face, “I tried everything in my power to persuade her to fight with us, to be on our side, but that’s when she said all of the things that were never said. That I was the favorite, I was the best only because I was the favorite, I was only fighting along Zeus because he favored me more than her. Not because I was good or tactful, she disregarded our training together...our friendship, the bond that we had growing up. It was stupid really, but eventually, we beat their army and imprisoned her. According to Zeus, she did more damage during the war that I wasn’t aware of. That’s why she’s imprisoned in Tartarus. I haven’t asked because she’s...she’s dead to me really.”

You leaned back in her seat, realizing that Maeve probably was only acting out of feeling because of the relationship between both of your mothers. Her mother was imprisoned in the deep abyss below the Underworld, while yours lived a perfect, rewarding life.

“Is that why we’re going to the Underworld tonight? To talk to Zeus?” you quietly asked.

Your mother nodded, “I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think of the possibilities of her coming for you through her daughter because of me.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine. I just want this to stop,” your fingertips brushed against your neck.

“Well,” your mother sighed, peering at her watch, “you don’t really have time to get ready, so why don’t you rinse your face from the sweat, and then we’ll pick up the pie and head on down.”

Head on down. You whimpered as you stood up. And it wasn’t because of your sore legs.

As you washed your face, you wondered if Jaehyun would be eating with you guys. You recall that Hades said Jaehyun was always at the Mourning Fields talking to the souls that wandered there. There, holds the souls that wasted their souls on unrequited love. Does Jaehyun love someone? Or does he not? Then you remembered how he took up space in your room last night. His fingertips sent icicle daggers through your skin that you felt their phantom as you wiped your face on the nearby towel. With the hopes of Jaehyun not speaking to you tonight, you braced yourself on the journey of walking down into the Underworld.

You jumped back at the sound of barking. Cerberus. The three-headed dog barks at both you and your mother. No matter how powerful your mother, Athena, was, she had no power over a creature created to guard the gates of the Underworld.

“Why isn’t he coming? I rang the doorbell like five minutes ago,” your mother grumbled.

As if on cue, the gates opened and the growling sounds of Cerberus silenced in question.

“They are not the enemy or the dead, Cerberus. They’re our guests.” a voice rang above you. You found out later that the voice belonged to Hades, but you saw Jaehyun stepping out from behind the black, iron gates.

“Good evening, sorry for the wait.” Jaehyun bowed to you both.

Your mother paused, regretting the comment she made before as she saw how handsome Jaehyun was, “You’re Jaehyun, right? You grew up so well.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Tch “ma’am”. As if you actually had manners. You rolled your eyes at his sense of poise. You wonder where he learned such acts in a short amount of time.

Your mother nudged you, “do you have anything to say?” she whispered.

You inhaled a sharp breath, narrowing your eyes at the prideful male in front of you, “Thank you for having us,” you mumbled, barely nodding to him.

“Please, this way.”

Jaehyun led your mother and you towards Hades’ Palace, the stone tower tall enough to peek through the rising fog of the evening. Across the path to the left stood the Judgement Pavilion. Several souls lined up waiting for their next home where they’d be trapped forever. One of the souls snapped their eyes to you as if they knew where you stood, who you were. Their eyes were full of darkness and fury, almost consuming you into a tunnel of doom.

Jaehyun snatched your arm, his grip vice-like, “Don’t look at any soul who hasn’t been through the Judgement Pavilion, it’s their last chance to steal a living being’s soul before they’re judged into exile.” You hadn’t realized it but it was only you and Jaehyun who stood on the pavement that led you to Hades’ Palace.

You looked ahead not seeing her, “Where’s my mom?”

“She already went in. We didn’t even notice you were gone until she asked you something to only find you not behind us.”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “How long have I been standing here?”

“Around five minutes, you didn’t hear me call you?” Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed.

Shaking your head in denial you said, “No, I didn’t until you grabbed my arm,” you eyed down to your arm seeing that he still held you. Jaehyun’s grip loosened as he also realized that he hadn’t let go yet.

“Come on, let’s go,” his hand tightened around your arm once again as he dragged you towards the stone palace.

“I can walk myself,” you snapped at him, attempting to yank your arm from his clutch.

Jaehyun turned to you, his eyes cool and icy, sending chills down your spine, “I know,” he lowly said, “but I’m not taking my chances,” he gripped your arm again, leading you to his home.

The moonlight barely shined against the copper stone of his palace, creating sheer darkness looking like it hadn’t been touched for centuries. As unwelcoming as it felt, you could smell the complete opposite; a small scent of mint, the natural smell of tree bark, and the faintest feather of lavender. You glanced forward at Jaehyun, he hadn’t spared you look as you two made your way towards his home.

Jaehyun led you past the Asphodel Meadows, only tugging on your arm harder to bring your senses back. He was right to do so because looking at it was hypnotizing. You were even surprised that the ground-up dirt was able to grow flowers, and not knowing what kind they were, they were the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. The trees that sheltered them were bare of leaves and plants, creating a haunting aura, but it didn’t alarm you enough to look away.

“Come on,” Jaehyun tugged at you once again, this time gaining your attention.

You glared at him making you feel like some child that wasn’t able to concentrate. “What’s down there?”

He glanced back at you, mirroring your expression, “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. Now hush, we’re almost there.”

After a few more steps, you both came to face his home. The palace was bigger than you expected as it loomed over you. It felt like you were walking into your own exile.

“I thought you got lost,” your mother called to you as you walked in with Jaehyun behind you.

“She almost did,” he mumbled as he passed you to sit at the dinner table.

“She’s always been a curious one,” your mother laughed.

“That could get you in some serious trouble, girl,” Hades walked into the room with spoons in his hand. The high-pitched cackling sound of the spoon hitting the dishes made you wince, “come sit, it’s almost time to eat.”

Obeying Hades’ words, you idly sat next to Jaehyun with shame settling in your bones because you felt embarrassed that he had to drag your ass back to his place. The skin where his hands once grasped your arm felt tingly and you couldn’t burn it from your mind. It’s not like you and Jaehyun had many encounters, or rather, pleasant encounters, but you can’t help yourself but stare at him from the corner of your eye. Jaehyun sits with poise and pride, but you can see the burden he carries in the way he slightly slouches and the exhausted sigh that wriggles from his lips.

As everyone eats, you can’t help but think what Jaehyun’s thinking about. You can tell he’s thinking about something from the tension in his brow and the small pout coming from his bottom lip. From time to time, you ignore the small moments where his arm or leg brushes against yours or when you both reach for the same dish. And there’s a sort of tension over the table as everyone silently hides their comments as their food reaches their lips.

Hades is the first to speak, “So, I’ve heard you’ve had quite the events lately,” his tone low and cautious.

You clear your throat, “Um, yes.”

You begin to tell him everything that’s happened from the start of Maeve to the event in the Phantasms Forest. Not leaving out a single detail, you didn’t even notice your hands tensing up until you felt warmth from another on top of your chilled skin. Turning to your mother, she nods to you in comfort, letting you know that you’re doing well and you’re strong for facing what you’ve been through. Hades listens closely, not reaching for his food and feeling the slight disgust from those who caused you harm. Truth be told, he knew what was happening and why it was happening to you. Slightly nodding at your mother, they both lifted themselves from their seats and walked out the door leaving you and Jaehyun alone.

You turned to the male to your right, “Where are they going?”

Jaehyun shrugs, grabbing the nearby plates, “Probably to Tartarus.”

“What?” You snapped up on your legs, immediately following him to the kitchen sink, “Why?

“I’m sure you know that’s where they’re keeping Eris,” Jaehyun spares you a glance as he begins soaking a sponge in soap.

“Yeah,” you crossed your arms, “but why are they going down there? To talk to her? What is she going to do? What are they going to do? How long is this going to take?”

Tired of the overload from your questions, Jaehyun turns to you. Unbeknown that you were leaning forward towards him as you spoke, your eyes widened as you came face to face with the hot-headed male. His eyes were a pool of darkness with a hint of brown like melted dark chocolate. You stood in front of him with your feet glued to the ground. Heat radiated off your body as you parted your lips. Jaehyun’s eyes flickered down. He sharply inhaled to only let it out as he turned away and began scrubbing the dishes again.

“Bring the dishes to me and I’ll wash them,” he said before you could turn away from him.

You clutched the collar of your shirt. What was that? Your fingers trembled around a plate when you realized that he didn’t even answer any of your problems.

Setting them on the counter next to him, you snapped, “You didn’t even reply to my questions.”

“You talk too much.”

Stunned, you purse your lips and walk away. He can clean the kitchen by himself. You sat yourself in their living room, plopping yourself on the couch. If it weren’t for the dim lamp that flickered in the far corner of the room, you would’ve walked around blindly. The walls were painted in black, the rug was black, and even the couch you sat on was black. Everything was black like a fire had torn through the palace. The only color that caught your attention was the pictures that sat on top of the unlit fireplace. Making your way towards the photos, you found family photos of Jaehyun and his parents. It looked like a regular family you would suspect in the human world, a mother and father playing with their toddler son in the park. Except it wasn’t a park and it wasn’t a regular family. The field Jaehyun played on was the Field of Asphodel, but it was beautiful, there was greenery, grass, and beautiful flowers that bloomed around little Jaehyun. You wondered what happened to the breathtaking scenery. Your eyes landed on a particular picture that made the corners of your lips lift in the slightest. There, laid little Jaehyun sleeping peacefully in the embrace of Cerberus who also laid in slumber around the little boy, sheltering him from the rain that penetrated to the Underworld. Cute. The faint blur of a finger covered the corner of the picture, you wondered who took this photo. You thought that maybe it was his mother, Persephone, who no one’s heard of for years. The last thing you heard was that Hades kidnapped her after eating six pomegranate seeds and she was forced to live six months in the Underworld and six months in the mortal world, Earth. But she hasn’t returned from her six months on Earth. And it’s been 20 years.

“No, I don’t know where she is, nor do I really care,” Jaehyun said beside you.

Jumping, you didn’t even realize he was there. Holding your chest, you panted, “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

“I know,” he glanced at you, his gaze flickering back to your lips, then lower to your neck, “but you were thinking it.”

“I-”

“Come, I might have some ointment left for your neck,” Jaehyun doesn’t even give you a chance to protest.

Grabbing your wrist, you obediently follow him back into the kitchen.

“Sit,” he commands.

You look around in question, “Where the hell am I going to sit?”

Jaehyun reached up to the upper cupboard, the bottom of his shirt slightly lifting with his shoulders to reveal his back, “on the counter, of course,” you averted your eyes somewhere else when he turned to face you, “unless you want to sit on my lap,” he smirks.

You shake your head, lifting yourself on the counter. Even if you sat on the counter, you were only tall enough to meet him at eye level. Snapping the cap open, the familiar smell of mint and ginger filled your nose as he dipped two fingers in the gooey substance. A very sinful scenario flashed across your mind as he pulled those fingers back out, his digits drenched in the healing fluid. Squeezing your legs together, you cleared your throat as he crept closer to you, but that only led to Jaehyun sliding his free hand around your nape to pull you closer.

“I don’t bite,” he whispers, that smirk returning.

“I didn’t ev-”

You tensed as Jaehyun’s fingertips brushed on your skin to apply the ointment. Both of your bodies were so close to each other, the only blockage being your knees that dug into this stiff abdomen. It also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s face was incredibly close to yours. With one movement, your lips would’ve met.

“Relax,” he whispers, his eyes switching up to meet yours.

Chills shoot down your spine, a sudden heat pooled at the bottom of your stomach at the breeze of his breath. But eventually, you relaxed. Until you felt his hand on your neck rubbing circles. He repeatedly dipped those long digits of his in the ointment and reapplied it to your neck. To be honest, you thought it looked fine, it was still sore and hurt in certain places but it felt like he was lathering you in it. Once in a while, you’d wince at the pressure Jaehyun’s fingertips pressed against some of the bruises.

“Sorry,” he’d murmur. You’d thin your lips but relax as soon as he apologizes, his voice sounding sincere and gentle.

Slightly turning to the side, you let out a troubled breath, sharply inhaling another, repeating those steps over again and again until Jaehyun slowly pulled away. His warm hand slipped from your nape and your breath trembled, the cold air settling on it as soon as he pulled away. You watched him set the ointment back where he got it from, not missing the flutter of his skin that revealed the slight muscles in his lower back. Oh boy, you sighed.

Jaehyun turned back to you, “You alright?”

You nodded, “Will it still be there by tomorrow?”

Jaehyun walked to you as you stayed glued to the counter, he hummed, “Considering that you almost met death twice in the span of two days, it’ll take a few days,” he was closer once again, “just be careful,” his voice in a low whisper.

You could feel his breath brisk your cheeks. You didn’t know if it was your own heat warming you up or the faint warmth of the words that escaped his plump lips. You felt his abdomen on the curl of your knees like before and there wasn’t a way to bring them closer because it’d reveal to him what you were thinking...or feeling. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly, maybe you were just lonely. But the longer you stayed in front of him, your desire to kiss him grew. He’s been nothing but cold and mean, but he’s been so kind and taking care of you despite his spiteful aura. You sucked in your bottom lip, stopping whatever trembling words attempted to escape from the cage of your tongue.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jaehyun’s hands slid to your waist.

“Don’t do that,” Jaehyun brought him closer to you, prying your legs open to create space for him.

You sucked in another sharp breath, “Do what?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jaehyun seemed to be drawing closer to you, his gaze occasionally glancing at your lips as both of your breaths began to weigh down. Closing your eyes, you swore you felt his lips brush yours until you realized he wasn’t kissing you at all, but instead lifting you until you were back on your feet. With bodies still closer than the stars were to the moon, you tipped your head up to meet his gaze. Already looking at you, Jaehyun let out a heavy sigh.

You should’ve inhaled another breath because the next second, you found yourself against Jaehyun’s lips. Those lips that were so pink and so inviting met yours. It felt like Olympus was on pause and it was just you and him. No Maeve, no darkness, nothing. A heavy sensation of peace settled in the curve of your palms as you dragged them down his chest. You gasped when he bit your lip, sucking and, licking it for permission of entrance and you immediately complied, not giving it any thought at all. Those calloused hands of his wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you closer flush against his body, against his hips. Jaehyun’s tongue danced with yours, a gasp revering the way he held you close to him, the way with each stroke, you moaned enough to satisfy him. Until he pulled away.

With panting breaths and blinking eyes scattering across yours, you could see the panic in his eyes. You could see instant regret that pooled in the darkness of his eyes, yet you couldn’t help but inhale when he stepped away, the heat of his body replaced with his familiar coldness. Your eyes follow Jaehyun as he runs out of his home. Not saying anything to you, but leaving you alone in the darkness of his home. In the Underworld. Standing alone in his kitchen, you could hear the loud beating of your heart penetrating your ears, blocking the sound of droplets from the faucet, the hum of the house, and the confusion in your breath. Your fingers fly to your lips, the feeling burns yours like a scar. Was it something you said? Was it something you did? Gulping, you frantically searched the cupboards for a cup of water, thirst reaching your throat, but instead you found a section that opened up to bottles of whisky and wine.

Even better. Finding a drying cup in the sink, you poured yourself a glass of the bronze liquid, not caring for it’s age or make. You winced as the liquid scorched your throat, coughing at the slightly burning sensation that warmed your mouth, but anything was better than the searing feeling of his lips and the pain of when he pulled away.

#neowritingsnet #nct writers #cznnet #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #nct 127 imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jung jaehyun imagines

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downstarr · 2 years ago

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The Accidental Seduction of Edward Teach by Stede Bonnet, Gentleman Pirate - Chapter 5, Our Get-Along Island

Ed and Stede navigate the first few hours on the deserted island the crew stranded them on.

----

Ed was so thick with anger at being stranded by the crew that Stede gave him space for the first few hours on the island.

While Ed paced around like a caged wildcat and investigated every inch of the beach that could be walked end to end in about six minutes, Stede busied himself with setting up camp under a palm tree. The satchels they’d both offloaded from the rowboats turned out to contain provisions for a multi-day stay.

The jungle was thick, but it was passable in spots. It was impossible to tell just how big the island was, but according to the charts Ed had seen, he reckoned that if it were possible to walk around the island (which it was not - not without bushwacking) it would take about thirty minutes to make a full cycle.

At one point, Ed started to venture into the jungle, but the sunset swarm of mosquitoes pushed him back up the path under a black halo of bugs that he swatted at ineffectually. He had to sprint down to the beach and throw seawater in his face to get them off him.

His leather gear was draped over a rock to dry, and he had pulled out a pair of loose cotton pants and shirt from the rucksack. Rather than join Stede at the little makeshift camp, he squatted at the far end of the beach. He stayed put even as the tide started to come in and rolled seawater over his bare toes.

A few times, Stede started to make his way towards Ed, but then seemed to think the better of it. He had started a small fire and was cooking some kind of meat.

The smell made Ed’s nostrils twitch and his stomach growl. Then the wind shifted, and he was able to brood in peace. Then it shifted again and brought with it what smelled like a feast. It was also getting colder. It never really got that cold, but the lack of the sun and an open ocean breeze on slightly damp clothing was enough to chill him.

Finally, with a grunt, Ed got to his feet and grudgingly moved closer to the camp.

It looked like the gentleman pirate had been there for weeks already. He’d draped canvas in the tree for shade and protection from any errant rainclouds. The crew had even shoved a few cushions from his cabin into the bag, and a small patterned rug. Stede’s fire was very neat, with a round of perfectly symmetrical stones. The smell turned out to be pork sausages - a row of which were arranged on a palm leaf. There was also mashed and seasoned plantain in little packages of banana leaf.

Rather than get too close, Ed plonked down just on the edge of the fire’s light.

“Hungry?” said Stede cheerily. He’d stripped off his frock coat and hung it neatly in a tree like it was a coat rack. His neat buckled shoes sat below it, toes pointed towards the sea.

“I guess,” mumbled Ed.

“Well, help yourself. We’ve also got some fresh fruit, plenty of water, and even a bottle of wine and a bottle of rum. They really did provision us well.”

“How can you be so cheery about mutiny?”

“Oh, it’s not. They’ll be back. I know it. They just…” Stede’s cheery mask slipped for a moment. He looked away. “...they’re only trying to help.”

Ed scooted over, scooped up a still-hot sausage, then scooted back to his spot. He bit into the sausage. The fat dribbled down his lip. He used his sleeve to rub it away.

“Ed, please, talk to me. I hate this. This is all my fault.” Stede’s voice broke a little. The fire was between them, and although the man looked like he wanted to move closer, he stayed put.

The sound of the hitch in his voice cut Ed as surely as a knife. He wiped at his face again, then took another bite after mumbling, “Why is it your fault?”

Stede bit his lower lip. “I…well, I misread you,” he smiled, but it was awkward and concealed embarrassment and pain. “I thought…we were…but then…”

“But I thought…” Ed made a vague gesture, “...that I was wrong. That you…” another hand gesture, even more vague than the last.

Stede stood up and moved around the fire. He sat down again, not next to Ed, but within a more conversational distance. “Look, I don’t pretend to understand how this works. In my world, there’s…” he swallowed and turned a little pink, “...courting, a period of engagement, and then, marriage. But I’m already married.” He slid his fingers through the sand, combing through it. Ed found himself wishing those fingers were combing through his hair. “That’s not how it works at sea,” he murmured. “You just fucking…go for it. And it doesn’t always mean anything.”

“Does it mean something with Izzy?”

“Hell no,” muttered Ed reflexively. “Well. It did, once. A long time ago. Sort of.” He shrugged.

Then, the two were silent, avoiding eye contact. The fire crackled. The waves crested gently against the shore, rolling over the sand and rocks. Somewhere, off in the jungle, a tropical bird made its last sound of the day.

After a long moment, Ed broke the silence. “He kissed me, you know. I didn’t kiss him. Didn’t want to. Wanted…” he sighed. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all fucked, isn’t it?”

“It is, a bit,” murmured Stede in agreement. “But it doesn’t have to stay that way. We’ve got some time, haven’t we?”

“Suppose,” Ed replied. And then, he scootched. Then scootched again, until he was beside Stede. He leaned over and bunted his head against the other man’s shoulder. Then slowly, he leaned up against him.

The moment he did, he felt the tension release from Stede’s body.

“Can we chalk this all up to a case of cross-cultural misunderstanding?” Stede asked gently, hopefully. “Pirate and nobleman, coming at each other in slightly different directions and giving each other glancing blows?”

“We haven’t gotten to the blows yet, mate. Slow down,” drawled Ed wryly. “I need to be courted.”

Stede laughed, a genuine, relaxed sound. “Well, I’ll do my best to get that back on track, shall I?”

It hadn’t been very long since Ed had been without Stede’s casual touches, but he was already hungry for them. He reached out for the other man’s hand, to cover his tattooed rough ones over the back of the aristocrat’s. He squeezed very tightly, as if reassuring himself that the other man was actually there. He felt his cheek resting against the top of his head.

Ed closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the now-familiar warmth of the other man’s body. He was still frustrated, but he decided then that if this was as far as Stede would ever go, physically, that he’d take it and be grateful.

“Shall we get some sleep?” Stede asked. “Talk more in the morning?”

Ed nodded. ----

Continue reading on Wattpad

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(As of May 27, 2022, there are 20 chapters with a new one added roughly every other day.)

#ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death fanfic #ofmd fanfic #blackbonnet #stedward #pirate fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ofmd fanfiction #edward teach #stede bonnet #fluff #tenderness #slow burn #romance #ao3 #wattpad

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marichat-verse · 3 years ago

Text

Mist Memories

Leo Valdez x reader for his birthday ahhhh (even though it's angsty) with a platonic/developing jason x reader cameo at the end (lmao im sorry i couldn't help myself 😭)

Based on this picture I found in pinterest + also [kinda] based on traitor by olivia rodrigo and omg i really recommend u guys listen to this edit because it reminds me so much of this fic that's been stuck in my head for MONTHS also kind of a run away with me prologue lol

Your POV

I nervously made my way across the forest until I reached a limestone cliff. I knocked on the iron door, not really expecting to get an answer.

My boyfriend has been shutting himself in Bunker 9 for the past few weeks. I stood there counting up to seven before knocking again. I knocked again two more times, until he answered in the middle of my last knock.

He removed his goggles and winced as sunlight hit his eyes. He'd grown thinner and paler, making the dark circles in his eyes more pronounced.

"Oh, Leo..." I reached out to brush a few strands of hair away from his face, but he moved away.

"What are you doing here?" He said in a monotone voice.

I moved to walk inside the Bunker, brushing off his hesitation to let me in. "I'm your partner, remember? And I'm really concerned because you're shutting yourself out lately. You know everyone's starting to worry about you. Percy asked me to check on you because you missed pegasus riding with him. Oh, and I'm pretty sure Jason's coming back from Camp Jupiter soon. I was hoping you and Annabeth could be with Piper while Percy and I hung out with Jason because it's been a little awkward since their breakup. Plus Piper wanted to tell you something—"

"Please," he said forcefully causing me to stop and look at him. "Just... Get out."

Normally, he'd shut himself from the world for a few days to work on an important project or because he was feeling really sad and he needed space. But this was getting out of hand. He had never locked me out of his life when I offered to help him. He was never this mean when he asked for space. I was not having this attitude of his.

"Okay, Leo. I tried to play nice. What is so important that you blow off all your friends for nearly a month that you can't even tell your partner, or maybe say hi to your best friend who's coming back from the other side of the country?"

He didn't say anything. He pursed his lips and avoided eye contact. I scanned he room for any signs.

It was messier than usual with all the crumpled paper scattered on the floor, especially on his desk. He could have been drawing up new plans. Something in my gut told me that something wasn't right. There were no new unfinished projects, indicating that he wasn't starting a new invention. Harley's helicopter lay on his bench in the same state it was weeks ago. Huh, not even his siblings could enter the Bunker.

I turned and Leo was already changing Festus' oil. I took this moment of distraction to pick up a few pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and on his desk. I had to process the words a bit longer—too long that Leo took notice. Damn dyslexia.

I heard footsteps speed up behind me, but it was too late. I read enough and got the gist of what he had been trying to do these past few weeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at me. Small embers started to erupt between his curls.

I laughed dryly. "So this is what you've been up to?"

His fists tightened, further crumpling the paper in his hands. His eyes flashed with anger, despair and confusion.

I sighed and focused my eyes on his desk, not daring to look at him any longer. Under some pieces of paper were old photographs of him and Piper from Wilderness School. Yup, those definitely were the mist memories she had with Jason. I read the latest draft he'd been writing:

Dear Piper,

Remember the mist memories from boarding school with Jason? They were real, but they were with me.

I miss you. I miss when it was just us. I miss the night on the roof.

Yours truly,

Leo Valdez

I tried to keep my voice from cracking. "How long?"

I heard him sigh. "Three weeks."

I balled my fists. Tears started to fall and smudge the ink. I wiped them away as fast as they came.

"How?"

"In a dream," his tone softened now. "Hera came to me in a dream and told me to check an old drawer in Bunker 9. I found the photos and the memories came rushing back."

"How long were you dating back then?"

"Two weeks."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Silence; then a deep breath.

"No."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because I knew you'd get upset like—"

"I meant why would you throw away months of our relationship for a couple of weeks of your relationship with her? And without even bothering to tell me? Gods damn it, Leo. We've been together since you've first arrived at camp. And what about those promises you made when we were sailing to Greece? You've been keeping these feelings away from me and you've been lying to me, making me believe that there's still something between us and—"

"Oh, calm down," he said with an annoyed expression and tone, which only infuriated me more, "it's not like I did anything were her yet! I didn't kiss her or tell her how I truly felt for her! She just got out of a relationship with Jason around the same time I had that dream. I had to figure out how to talk to her about it. I've been alone in this Bunker for three. Fucking. Weeks. I didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, and that makes everything better?" I countered. "Being in a relationship isn't about not cheating, Leo. It's about being honest and communicating with each other."

"Oh, like you've been communicating with me? After the war, you take go back to Manhattan for school, and you take a job. I haven't seen you much during the holidays because work has been keeping you in the city. And you won't tell me what you even do for a living!"

I took in a deep breath. "I told you I needed to have a life outside of camp! I needed to know first that I could handle myself in the mortal world as a normal human being. I needed this demigod part of my life to be separate as much as possible! I've been in two wars, Leo. I needed time to myself, too. And I was about to tell you guys in a few more days. But I guess now, I'm glad I've kept you out of that part of my life. At least I have an escape from all of this. And now, especially from you."

I took another deep breath and walked to the door, about to let myself out. I turned back again, both our tear-stained eyes meeting each other.

"If it makes you feel any better," I said softly, "I would've hated the idea of us breaking up. But if you really love her, if you really feel like you have this special connection to her and she makes you happy, then I won't get in your way. You could at least have had the decency to talk to me so we could have left on a good note."

He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly regretting his actions. I sighed and looked around the Bunker, possibly for the last time. Lots of memories were definitely created in this room; all just as grand and meaningful as the inventions they made here. But just like some of Hephaestus' contraptions, some of them were flawed and dumped in his scrapyard, no matter how much potential it could have had.

"Goodbye, Leo."

I sat on a rock on the beach that gave me a beautiful view of Long Island Sound. To my left, the sun started to set, casting an orange filter on everything. My heart broke, remembering how everything glowed orange in the Bunker. Leo always left the fires burning when he was working. The sunlight twinkling against the sea reminded me of how small bits of flame peaked through his hair earlier. I remembered how mad he was at me. Or maybe he was mostly mad at himself.

"Hey."

I jumped when someone sat—or rather, landed—beside me. I turned and smiled, seeing one of my good friends back at camp.

"Hey, you're back," I said weakly. "How long have you been here?"

He smiled at me, although he could maybe sense that something was wrong. "Half an hour, maybe? I saw Annabeth making plans to expand camp to have a city. She made me do an aerial inspection and I told her I'll get back to her tonight. That's when I saw you."

"Mhmm," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say. It was silent for a few minutes before I spoke up again, knowing he was just waiting for me to open up.

"I broke up with Leo."

His head quickly turned to me. I guess he wasn't expecting it to be that bad. "What?"

"Oh yeah," I laughed dryly. "Turns out the mist memories Piper had in Wilderness School with you? They were real. But not with you."

His eyes widened. "Oh... With Leo."

"He locked himself in the Bunker for weeks trying to write a letter. It was heartbreaking. Like, truly heartbreaking. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her and how much he missed them. Then he said how much he missed that night with her under the stars and... It hurt. Like hell."

"Oh," he said. "I guess Piper didn't tell me everything then."

"She knew all along?"

He shook his head. "Maybe not everything, but she told me she's been confused about her feelings lately and she'd been having visions or dreams of possible old memories that were messing with her head."

"I'm sorry about you and Piper," I said.

"Don't be," he said. "I understand her. It did hurt, though. But I think I can get over it some day. We're still awkward around each other, but at least we left on a good note."

I scoffed. "Leo couldn't even give me a good ending to our relationship."

"Hey," he said as he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great person, y/n. You've done so much, especially for him. It's his loss that he was stupid enough to let go of you."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"I do!" I said. "I'm a great person and I know that. But that doesn't mean what he did doesn't hurt me."

"I know," he said. "You'll find someone who'll treat you like the queen that you are. You're a great person, and I'm not just saying this to cheer you up. I truly think you're amazing."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Jason. And you'll find someone great, too. Maybe not as great as me but, then again, who is?"

We both let out a laugh. The conch sounded in the distance, signaling dinner. I moved to stand up before hearing Jason speak up again.

"Hey, do you maybe want to just grab a couple of plates and eat out here?"

I smiled. "Yeah. That sounds good. I don't really want everyone else hounding me about the breakup right now."

I don't know how long it was going to take me to get over Leo. We really did gave something special. It was cruel how the universe gave me something so good, to make me have hope that something was finally going right, then have it yanked away from my arms just as suddenly as it came.

He never cheated on me, but that didn't mean he didn't betray every promise we made to each other. I should have known it was too good to be true. Life has always played cruel jokes on me.

Then again, who's to say that things won't turn out for the better, right?

•••

Tagging: @drvrslcense @bubblybubbubs @dreamerball @quteez @aesthetxcimagines @chasingpj @beingleft @wadewilsonsgreatestfriend

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hannah-schooler · 3 years ago

Note

hi hannah!! “night swimming” for the summer vibes prompts please? perhaps with some sneaky anakin and ahsoka and a very, very d o n e rex who got dragged along on one of their outrageously dumb adventures *again*??

only if you want to, of course <33

Hey Ash! Thanks so much for this prompt! I'm not saying writing this might've broken me out of my writers block, but i'm not...not saying that either.

from these prompts

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

Dark stretches of shadow painted the floor of the Naboo lake house as Ahsoka made her way out of the kitchen. She cradled a mug of jasmine tea gingerly in her hands as she shouldered open the large glass doors leading to the balcony.

The war might be over but the nightmares never stopped. Even here, with the steady sound of waves lapping against the lakeshore filling the air—possibly the most at peace she’d ever been—they still haunted her.

She sighed, bracing her forearms against the cool stone railing. Padme’s lake house—though Ahsoka thought it looked more like a castle than anything—was far enough away from the city that no light pollution marred her view of the stars. Years of astronav classes and the flashcards she’d memorized had her reciting the visible planets and star systems. Almost rotely, she picked them out: Geonosis, Ryloth, Eriadu, Corellia; Naboo’s three moons; the other planets of the Chommell Sector.

They were just pinpoints of light to other people, worlds that maybe their favorite food came from, or that they heard about on the holonews. But Ahsoka had a history with each one. And each memory was steeped in blood.

“You told me the nightmares had gotten better.”

Ahsoka didn’t turn at Anakin’s approach, simply continuing to stare at the spot on the horizon where dark water turned into the amorphous black of nighttime.

“You told me the same thing.” With the twins consuming nearly his every waking moment, he was usually passing out the moment they were asleep. There were few other reasons that he’d be awake too.

He came to stand by her side, glancing down at her out of the corner of his eye. “Guess we’re both liars, then.”

She huffed a laugh, putting aside her now-cold tea.

Anakin nudged her shoulder with his own, drawing her attention back to him. His long hair—now long enough to braid, much to her own enjoyment—was sticking up in random places, and she was pretty sure he’d been wearing the same shirt for three days. But there was a lightness to his eyes and a soft set to his shoulders that she had not seen in far too long. If she’d ever seen it. She liked to think that there were moments during the war when she had been able to remove the weight for just a little while with dumb jokes and pranks, but it always came back in the end.

He was carrying his trauma a lot better than she was these days.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head.

His gaze softened and he settled his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “You’re home now, Snips. Don’t forget that.”

They stood in silence for a little while, the fear and weariness leftover from her nightmare steadily leaking out of her in the face of Anakin’s all consuming warmth.

“I stayed here with Padme for a couple weeks right before the war started,” he said. When she looked up at him, he was watching the waves lap against the sandy shore. “She tried so hard to get me to go swim with her but I didn’t want to cross the sand.” He chuckled. “First and last time I ever thought I could win an argument with her. I was in the water within the hour.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I can’t believe you used to be a bigger idiot than you are now.”

“Hey!”

The combination of his affronted expression and his bedhead had her doubling over in laughter. He looked like a startled bantha.

Suddenly an impish grin overtook his face. Then he was grabbing her wrist and dragging her behind him with what she was sure was Force-assisted effort, and heading toward the elegant stairs that led down to the water.

“Oh no, no, no, no. Skyguy, it's too cold!”

“Never thought I’d see the day when you were the one saying that instead of me.”

“That’s because we could go sunbathing on Jakku and you’d bring a blanket.”

Anakin just glared at her over his shoulder.

Well, if he was going to be like that… “Race you!”

Anakin spluttered as Ahsoka leapt down the stairs, rolling into a crouch at the bottom.

He tore after her, gaining on her with every step. Their laughter floated across the lake, and before Ahsoka could dive in, a massive wave crested, drenching her from head to toe.

She gasped at the icy shock, then turned around to see Anakin a few yards behind her with his arms still raised.

Ahsoka bared her fangs in a playful growl, and then Anakin was landing in the water with a splash. She waded in, up to her waist, waiting for him to surface. A few moments passed and he hadn’t come up. She scanned the water, but it had gone still once more, and even with her superior night vision, there was no sign of him.

“Skyguy?” she called. “Anakin?!”

Ahsoka sucked in a breath as something grabbed her around the waist, dragging her under the water.

She broke the surface, gasping for air, only to be met with Anakin’s unapologetic grin.

“You nerfherder!”

“Language, Snips.” But the reprimand was broken up by laughter. Ahsoka rolled her eyes as her own grin broke out across her face, soon turning into a full blown smile at their combined ridiculousness. She hadn’t felt this young in a long time, just playing in the water with her older brother.

Anakin had gone quiet, and when she looked over, he was treading water with a gentle expression on his face. It was the same one she saw when he was holding Leia; watching her babble incoherently up at him like he would move mountains to make her smile. Like he would for you, a voice in her head whispered. “There she is,” he murmured.

He maneuvered to float on his back, and after a moment Ahsoka joined him. She was looking at the stars again. But instead of her bloody history and the deaths that hung heavily on her heart, she just saw pinpricks of light forming a tapestry of kyber across the sky. Worlds full of people who were hurting just like she was, and healing all the same.

“It still hurts,” she mumbled.

“I know,” Anakin replied. Soft ripples bumped against her from the steady movement of his arms. “I think it maybe always will. But I promise you Ahsoka, I’m always going to be here for you when it gets hard.”

She smiled back at him, pushing her gratitude across their bond. “Same here, Master.”

“Do I even want to know what you two are doing?”

Pushing herself upright, Ahsoka saw Rex standing at the edge of the lake. He was shirtless, with a towel thrown over his shoulder and a bottle of water in his hand. Probably ready for a morning run. There was no telling what time it was, but the sky was beginning to lighten. They had yet to break Rex of the soldier’s habit of waking before dawn.

Ahsoka slid her eyes to Anakin at her side, her sly, mischievous gaze mirrored in his own blue eyes.

In sync, they raised their hands. Their poor Captain had no time to react before he was being flung high through the air and landing in the lake.

They dissolved into giggling fits even before Rex came up, face red. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop throwing me?!”

A couple hours later they had dragged themselves up onto the beach, the Force glowing in contentment around them. Even Anakin didn’t complain about the grains of sand sticking to their wet skin.

Ahsoka leaned against Anakin’s shoulder, prompting him to rest his head on top of hers. She wrapped an arm around Rex, giving him a squeeze.

The three of them, relics of an unjust war and carriers of history, sat on that beach and watched the sun rise on a new day. So many laid out in front of them, offering hope. Offering peace. Ahsoka let the feeling fill her and carry the nightmares away.

#writing prompts #summer fluff #snips and skyguy #captain rex #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #night swimming #fanfic asks #fanfic #my writing

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 3 years ago

Text

Can’t wake up

It felt like you were floating. You were so sleepy, and you felt like you were floating. The white noise in your ears, was it the sound of waves lapping at the ocean shore? Because that would explain why you felt like you were floating. It was so peaceful and calm, being weightless and relaxed in your own personal sea of tranquility. You drew in a deep breath and sighed, allowing your worries and anxieties to wash away with the constant lapping of the tide.

Somewhere, on the shore maybe? You could hear a voice. Deep and clipped, a rumbling staccato buzz in the back of your head. Whoever he was was calling your name. The sound of the waves, the lull of the ocean - the pull was too great, and you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Just that his voice was strong and masculine.

The gentle tug of the waves was washing you out deeper into the ocean, but you didn’t fight it. You allowed yourself to float, buoyed by the water, eyes closed and relaxed.

“Come back to me!” The words cut clear through the static of the water, and you felt yourself jolt from floating to just laying. Had this man grabbed you? Was he trying to pull you back to shore? Were you in danger? From him? From the sea? The waves wrenched you from his hands, and again, you were floating. You considered listening for his words again, but the gentle rocking motion of the water lulled you back into relaxation and you could feel yourself drifting away from shore again.

“We’re losing her!” The man’s voice was starting to sound panicked, and again, you jolted into awareness, just for a moment. A shot of pain ripped through you as you felt him drawing you back to the shore. The waves dragged you back and you felt yourself flail and start to sink, just for a moment.

XxX

“We’re losing her!” Steve tore your tac suit open, baring your chest, and started chest compressions. “Get the medkit for me! I need the shears!”

Tony shoved the back toward him, and Natasha pulled it open, grabbing the shears from the top and handing them over quickly. While Steve sliced through your sports bra, Nat readied the defibrillator. Steve held a hand up to stop her from placing the pads, and continued the chest compressions and rescue breathing.

XxX

The floating sensation left you, and you felt yourself being dragged down by the undertow. You tried to paddle against the straining waves, but couldn’t so much as move your arms. You vaguely remembered your surf instructor telling you to swim with the current toward the edge of the riptide, and tried to manoeuvre yourself to where you thought the waves might be gentler, but you couldn’t. You broke through the waves, gasping, and finally fought against the drag until you were out of the rip and floating again. You rolled back onto your back, closed your eyes against the sun and floated.

XxX

You’d drawn in a deep ragged breath, and then fallen back unresponsive.

“Tony?” Steve asked. Tony dropped his visor and starred at you.

“She’s got a heart rate. It’s slow. BP is low. Oxygen sats are crap. We need to get out of here and get her back to the compound. Nat, get us up in the air,” he ordered. Steve pulled the oxygen tank off the wall of the quinjet and attached a mask before attaching it to your face.

“I can’t find anything wrong with her, Tony,” Steve sighed, throwing a blanket across your naked form. “I don’t suppose that suit has a CT in it?”

“No such luck, Cap,” Tony shook his head. “We’ll get her in the cradle, she’ll be fixed up just fine.”

Steve entwined his fingers in yours and leaned against the bulkhead of the quinjet. “I hope so.” XxX

You washed up on shore with the changing of the tides, and felt your skin prickle against the sun. Fighting the exhaustion you felt from your swim against the riptide, you sighed and stretched out on the sand. You yawned and opened your eyes as you rolled onto your side, and saw a beautiful woman sitting on a rock observing you. She was stark naked, but had drawn her legs up against her chest. The sun refracted off her skin, which was gleaming ultramarine, complementing the regal blue of her ultramarine hair.

“I didn’t think mermaids had legs?” You asked. The pitch of her laugh felt unnatural.

“You tell me, I’m only here because you summoned me,” she replied. You propped yourself up on an elbow and looked at her, and then around the beach.

“Am I dead?” You asked.

“No.”

“What’s wrong with me then? Why am I here?” You asked.

“Your brain is protecting you.”

“From what?” You demanded.

“From feeling the pain.” She was nearly expressionless as you spoke, and refused to offer more information.

“What pain?” You were getting frustrated.

“Intercranial hemorrhage.” Her voice was soothing at least. “Now rest. Or you’ll never wake. Stop fighting and rest.”

“If this is a dream, I won’t get a sunburn?”

She laughed again. “No. You’re quite safe from that.” She rose and stepped back to the water’s edge. “Rest.” She dove into the shallows and when she resurfaced, you saw her tail breach and slap the water in acknowledgement.

You took her advice and laid back down, closing your eyes against the sun, and allowing your body to rest.

XxX

Steve sat beside the cradle, partially stripped out of his suit, just watching you. Nat came over with a glass of water and nudged him.

“Go have a shower, get some food,” she recommended. Steve shook his head.

“What if she wakes up?”

“I’ll be here. She’ll know I love her more,” Natasha teased. Steve scowled. “Steve, you won’t do her any good stinky and hangry. Go get washed up. There’s a chicken rice bowl in the kitchen with your name on it. I’ve got this.”

Steve sighed and pushed himself to his feet, leaving the quiet of the infirmary. Natasha looked down on you and flopped in the seat Steve had vacated.

“As much as I want you to wake up, you should probably save it for when he gets back,” she said to you. “But don’t even think about dying on us.”

XxX

“I want you to wake up.” The feminine voice broke through the wash of the waves, and seabird song. You groaned and opened one eye, thinking the mermaid had returned. There was no one around. You sat up, and took in your surroundings again. The island was beautiful, from what you could see. And your subconscious was ensuring all your needs were met. A small, but sheer rock face a short way down the beach was home to a waterfall that you could only assume was fresh water. There were coconut trees at the edge of the beach, and a few short bushes that looked to be pineapples. You could be quite happy here, you thought. “Baby, you’ve got to come back to me.” The same male voice from before echoed in your head. It was so loud this time that it made you dizzy, and you stumbled toward the shade. You might not get sunburn, but your brain felt scrambled from the heat. XxX

“Baby, you’ve got to come back to me,” Steve kissed your knuckles. “It’s been three days. Doctor Cho says all your scans have returned to normal. You’re okay. Wake up. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” It was a single word, but it held more passion and pain than you could ever remember hearing. You looked around the beach. The voices came in waves every so often, but usually quiet, just breaking through the gentle but persistent noise of the ocean waves lapping against the shore. If only you knew where the voices were coming from.

Since you’d washed up on the island, you’d searched the entire thing, looking for the ghost voices. They all seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place them. You flopped down against the soft branches you’d turned into a makeshift mattress and allowed your mind to wander, trying to place the male voice you kept hearing as you watched the clouds drift across the sky.

XxX

“Any change?” Tony leaned into the infirmary, holding a bag of dried fruit. Steve looked haggard. Tony couldn’t guess when the man had last slept, but he looked like he might not have shaved in at least a week. Natasha had stopped nagging Steve about hygiene when he’d told her to fuck off earlier in the week.

“Nothing.” Steve’s voice was devoid of emotion.

According to Dr. Cho, there was nothing wrong with you, but the vegetative state was persistent. Steve was grieving you, despite your textbook vital signs. He hung his head in his hands and his shoulders started to shake.

“Whoa there, Steve, Dr. Cho says she’s going to be fine. Let her brain rest. There must be more to it than the cradle can see. Tony rushed forward, not even thinking, and rubbed his hand on Steve’s back. Steve leaned into his friend and wept.

“What if this is it? What if this is all I get? Just a few months with her and now she’s gone?” Steve asked, his voice overwrought with sorrow. Tony patted Steve’s back awkwardly.

“This isn’t it,” Tony promised. “You need some rest, and a shower. And maybe a shave, although I have to say the beard is fetching. I’ll sit with her. If you come back in less than six hours, I’ll smother her myself.”

Steve glared at Tony, but pushed to his feet. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m only going because I owe Nat an apology.”

XxX

The male voice was different, and his chatter was non-stop. You wanted to find him and tell him to stick a cork in it, but as usual, there was no one on the island but you. Yet another fruitless search for the voices that haunted your island made you realize how lonely you were. Had you always been here? How had you gotten here? You remembered floating in the ocean, but where had you been before that? You sat down and struggled to remember. As you stared out at the water, you idly doodled in the sand with a small twig. The nattering man finally stopped speaking and you sighed in relief. You pushed yourself back on your feet and rose, looking down at the series of circles with the star in the centre. It had to mean something, it was the only thing you ever seemed to draw when you were thinking about things.

XxX

“Tony says the beard looks good. I never would have worn a beard before, but I kind of like it. It’s not fancy like his either. It’s just a beard.” Steve smoothed down the hair on his face and took a sip from his coffee. He picked up your hand and placed it against the hairs on his cheek, smoothing your hand down the scruff. Your fingers reflexively curled into the hair and you let out a soft sigh.

Steve leaned forward, “Come back to me. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” The anguish in the voice tore through your heart and you sat up. Had it never been nighttime since you got here?

“Please.” Your ears started to ring and your vision blurred. The ocean was placid, calm. It had never been so calm.

“Please, baby.” Memories rushed through you and you looked around at the island, no longer beautiful and friendly, but instead looking depleted and dangerous.

“Steve?”

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@rampant-salamander @bolontiku @bkwrm523

#whump of july 2021

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starsuh · 4 years ago

Text

☾ whipped!taeyong missing you hours: open ☽

taeyong missed you. like, a lot. he missed how you'd hold his hand so that you wouldn't lose him in a crowd. he missed how you'd pass by his dorm just to bring him coffee because you knew he'd spent all night cramming. he missed how you'd always lean against his side and wrap your arms around him when you were tired. he even missed taking care of you after parties even though you’ve puked on his shoes four times now (he bought waterproof ones just for you). the fact that he missed even the worst of you felt like a wake-up call.

“lee taeyong, don’t be a pussy and just call y/n,” he paced up and down between the doorway and the bed, scolding himself. “what’s the worst that can happen, you know, besides y/n realizing why i’ve been silent and never speaking to me ever again…” he paused at that thought, his worst nightmare, before continuing to pace but at lightning speed. who else was he going to take afternoon naps with? or sneak snacks into the library with? or most importantly, send tiktoks back and forth with now that the fall of your friendship was nigh? perhaps, he was being a tad bit overdramatic, but could you blame him? your friendship was everything to him— scratch that, you were everything to him.

before he could back out, he pressed the green call icon.

you'd been best friends since freshman year yet the nerves that overtook him with every beep were as if he were talking to a crush for the first time. he might as well have been. ever since he'd realized his very, very, very huge feelings for you, he had dropped off the face of the earth, ignoring every meme and 'are you okay?' sent his way by you.

he didn't want to burden you with his unwanted feelings. you were each others rock, for fuck's sake. he knew you didn't need any more stress during finals, especially with something as childish as an infatuation (taeyong was heavily in denial that it was anything more than that.)

so, he did the only thing he thought wise: to hide. hide until his feelings evaporated into thin air and he was back to being your clingy best friend... clearly it wasn’t working if the fact that he's missed you more and more as the distance grew wider wasn't a loud enough sign. was this how platonic relationships worked? he hoped so.

after three more beeps you finally picked up.

"taeyong!" you yelled, causing him to jump from where he had been moping against his mirror. he’d have to phone a doctor next from how loudly your voice pierced his eardrums. "where have you been?"

it was a sound he hadn’t heard in weeks. a similar kind of euphoria one has when finding the song they’ve been looking for but hadn’t known the lyrics of. were voices supposed to be this pretty? he thought yours was.

he fiddled with the ends of his sweater, suddenly feeling small. "sorry," he cleared his throat. "i've just been kinda busy with this research thing."

"what thing? i could've helped you out."

taeyong sighed, flopping against his bed. "no, it's okay. it's nothing you could've helped with."

"are you at your dorm?" he heard movement from your side of the call, then the sound of keys. "i could get some ice cream and we could de-stress at yours?"

his heartbeat spiked. "no, no, no," he yelped. "i know you're busy, i'm fine."

"seriously, i'm almost done with my bio project," you paused. "plus, i really missed you."

you said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. as if you weren't ripping taeyong's heart into thousands of little pieces while patching them back together simultaneously.

he laughed but it rang almost metallic. "yeah?" he turned to look at his wall of polaroids, most of them being of you and him. at a concert. a fair. a party. a beach. "i'm sure i missed you more."

"then, i'm coming over with ice cream in ten, loser." you hung up before he could protest.

he sighed, throwing his phone to the end of the bed before picking himself up. he rummaged through his closet for the oversized hoodie he knew you liked to wear and prepared your favorite flavor of popcorn in the microwave you had gifted him last christmas. he hadn’t scheduled ‘getting his heart broken’ on today’s itinerary but if he was, he was at least going to be a solid best friend while doing it.

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years ago

Note

I know I ask alot but could you do a story about the reader getting kidnapped and being held hostage against the boys as black mail or something and the boys coming to save them.

Don't even worry about it! I don't want any of you to feel guilty about multiple asks, there are no limits! Ask as much as you want.

So this is a bit rough, but I will defend my portrayal of the Frog Brothers. Remember they were willing to stake Star and Laddie TWICE, even when they were helping them, just because they were half vampires. A girl and a little boy were still a threat. With that being said, I hope you still enjoy

Taken from Your Bed

Fem!Reader x Poly! Lost Boys

CONTENT WARNING: Blood, Gore, Offensive Language, Subjects of Torture

The idea of a polyamorous relationship was something you had never considered in 17 years of living. The whole idea sounded so complex, sharing someone you loved with multiple people, or multiple people sharing and loving you? It just sounded like a huge mess.

But when it came down to it, you could never choose between the beautiful vampires that had become absolutely smitten with you. What had started as a summertime time fling with the youngest and most perfect glam rocker, Paul, had evolved into a blossoming romance with his brothers. Late summer nights of riding through wind-warped beach dunes and cool morning naps were your new life. Your house had never really felt like a home even before you were coaxed into the arms of your blood sucking princes, and soon you just stopped coming back. Honestly they didn't even look for you. You'd be eighteen soon, you had graduated early from high school, there wasn't exactly much else to be done. It wasn't a surprise that your family was indifferent, you always questioned whether or not your parents had even wanted children. So, in the dark of the night they swooped in, liberating them of your belongings, and your presence. No note, no farewell, just an empty room with empty drawers.

Some days it would depress you. The subtle rejection hurt, but those days never lasted long. Any signs of tears and they'd be piling on you with a plethora of love. Paul would always remind you it didn't matter. You were with them now! Anyone else can burn in hell. The old cove where Star had slept was made up for you. They were more than happy to trash anything belonging to that treacherous girl. Battery powered fairy lights were hung across worn wooden bed posts, streams of colorful curtains kept you well shielded from any intruders, a mountain of stuffed toys from various trips to the boardwalk decorated the floor and your bed. They even managed to dig up a dusty old dresser for you clothes, and amongst your glamourous new cave dwelling, more often than not at least one of the boys would share the bed with you. On special occasions they'd all fall asleep with you in the middle between piles of plushies and pillows. Each one loved to spend time with you on and off the boardwalk.

Marko was up for absolutely anything as long as he could be with you. You'd read out chapters of The Outsiders while he burrowed in your lap, just entranced by your soothing voice. He'd beg you to sing to him, just to get a glimpse of what that entailed. You could sound like a dying seagull and he'd still call it a serenade. On lazy days he would let you practice painting his nails when you got bored, or brush his hair. That was his favorite. Paul would whine that he wants his hair brushed too, only for David to interject that it's his turn next. Yes, even David loves having your attention on him. When you aren't sitting pretty in his lap, he's laying lazily against you while you run your fingers through snowy blonde hair. If you get him relaxed enough he'll let out a low, growling hum. You started calling it a sleepy bear sound. Your time with David was often mellow, wrapped in his arms while he read. Eventually you'd grow curious and peek at the pages, asking him to read out loud. "Only for you kitten." He'd whisper.

Dwayne could braid your hair for hours, telling you old stories his granny would tell him passed on from centuries. Your favorite is the wendigo, the story of settlers driven to cannibalism after being trapped in a cruel winter, doomed to roam as superhuman beasts. It makes you wonder if what they had seen were ancient vampires? He'd chuckled, throwing in a casual "maybe" then ask if you wanted feathers woven in your hair as well. Uh, yes please! Dwayne always made sure you were taking care of yourself. If you hadn't eaten that day it was suddenly top priority. He'll remind you the importance of 7 cups of water a day, plenty of rest- until you point out he does none of that. He'd then argue he's undead, that doesn't count.

When Paul had his turn he'd be ecstatic. You'd both head bang to blasting music off the rock box, fix each other's hair in wild teased messes, sneak in a bit of heavy petting. Watching tv became a staple thanks to some rusty generator you "found" on a fisherman's boat after he… disappeared under mysterious circumstances. With a bowl of popcorn he'll pop in a scary movie, savoring those jumps that made you hide in his chest. It was too adorable! As soon as the other boys saw you two watching a film they'd all join and Paul would huff about his private time being commandeered.

Even with all of this, you had still decided to remain human much to their dismay. It wasn't that you didn't want to be a vampire. But after the Frog Brothers nearly wiped them out, the boys needed someone to be a daytime watch guard. You weren't supposed to fight anyone, just raise an alarm if there were trespassers. The thought of that made you pout. It's not like you couldn't handle yourself. Sure you weren't Bruce Li, but you had a few street brawl victories under your belt. You could certainly handle those Frog dorks.

Or so you had thought.

That night you were absolutely positive no one had seen you, you certainly weren't supposed to be seen. It was 4:35 am, almost the entire boardwalk was scattered by now with most of the families long gone home. The lights were being shut off, rides had been closed hours ago. Only a few party animal adults still lingered at the bars making last calls, lazily returning to their beds after a draining night. A dense fog had started to roll in, coating the moon and beach in a haze. The foreboding swoon promised possible rain the following day. Taking advantage of the ethereal beauty the night was, you had lured two absolutely wasted surfer guys that had been stumbling across the boardwalk now eagerly following you through the misty sands expecting a night of thrills once you reached the caves. Calmly humming, you dragged your toes over the damp sands while wisps of ocean waves tempted to reach your feet. At the last stretch you waded through the shallows, cautiously climbing up onto slick mossy rocks when you reached the mouth of the cave. "C'mon boys. My friends are just dying to meet you," you purred.

The high fives and penis innuendos were short lived when a flurry of dark figures swooped them into the air. You simply say atop the wet rocks with your knees delicately held against your chest. The screams and gurgled cries were lost to the ocean, and soon a familiar face poked from above looking into the cave.

"Peek-a-boo," Marko teased, hanging off the roof of the cave before swinging next to you. "Have I ever told you, you have awesome taste in meals for a human?"

"Is that you, or the boozey blood talking," you asked with a giggle, smearing the blood off his cheeks to steal a quick kiss.

"Bow don't go taking all of her, Marko." You looked up, watching David swoop in coated in bloody stains with Paul and Dwayne trailing behind.

"Sorry I could only bring you five people tonight guys, the fog coming in scared off whatever was left on the boardwalk. I barely caught those last two leaving the bar."

"Don't even kitty-cat, you already brought us way more than we expected," Paul protested, hanging on your shoulders from behind.

Dwayne nodded, still leaning up against the soggy cave. "Five is enough to keep us full, princess, you did plenty."

So with another successful night of feeding the boys were left ready to rest as 5 am rolled around. The sun tempted to rise before they had reached the cave, the boys slipping away to their dark hovel after giving you a mess of good night, or rather, good morning kisses. Although you often went to bed shortly after a night out, this morning you felt a surge of energy keeping you up. Thankfully it was a gloomy grey sky, causing minimal sunlight to burst through the slivers and cracks leaving the possibility still open that one of them would come to sleep beside you. Until then you chiseled away the boredom with a pair of headphones and a pile of comic books, flipping through the pages with eager anticipation for the next scene. Two hours barely dragged by, leaving you rolling over your bed in misery. Staring at the ceiling you debated sneaking into the cave. Maybe drag a blanket and a pillow, cuddle up on the ledge.. and then David would give you an earful for not only sleeping where you could fall but climbing through the tunnels. Oh well. It was only- 7:30 am. Perhaps you should spend the day out? But, something felt off.

You sat up, pulling off your headphones trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary. There was a disturbing still to the room, even the ocean sounded distant.

Then without warning, a firm hand clamped over your mouth from behind. You tried to wildly thrash and scream, but the sounds were heavily muffled under the thick layers of a towel. There seemed to be another who was running in front of you to grab at your wild legs still getting in every possible hit you could. They were whisper-yelling, demanding you keep your voice down. To hell with that! You managed to kick one in the face! The struggle dragged out for easily five minutes by this point. It always seemed to work faster in fiction, instead it dragged out for what felt like forever. The scent burned your lungs, it was getting harder to breathe, your resistance wavered as the drag of exhaustion continued to claw at your eyes. Your violent thrashing became a few heavy swings of your shoulders, until you could barely move anymore. It was impossible to fight the monstrous sleep they forced you into. Your body dropped into unconsciousness, finally able to breathe as you slipped away in the darkness.

Marko stirred in his sleep, swearing he could hear you screaming just outside. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he was able to relax. Quiet as the day is long. It must've been his imagination.

Flutters of light faded in and out of your peripheral vision. The more you saw, the more you heard. Two grumbling voices bickering back and forth.

"- I say we should just ice her now!"

"Not until we can smoke the rest of 'em out! A vampire rarely travels alone these days! The rest of them won't kill us as long as we have her!"

A verbal groan alerted their attention towards you as you shifted in place. It was still daytime, maybe mid afternoon? You honestly couldn't tell. When you tried to sit up you felt a sharp, worn resistance that kept your arms firmly in place. The rope rubbed your wrists raw. Your boots couldn't get any traction on the floor, it was covered in dust and old hay. Finally you were able to see those responsible for your capture.

"Oh you have got to be kidding," you announced, glaring at the two camo-clad brothers posing like suburban commandos. This was some old dusty barn, and you were kidnapped by the self proclaimed vampire hunters of Santa Carla, the Frog Brothers, Edgar and Allan. Typical.

"So, you guys have gone from murder to kidnapping. Well, I guess that's progress."

"The only murderer here is you, blood sucker," Edgar gruffly retorted, pointing a freshly sharpened stake in your face.

"Vampire? I'm in the sun you idiot!"

"We all know about you half bloods being in sunlight, you can't fool us." You didn't even realize the tall one spoke. His sneering upper lip wouldn't cease to display the disgust he held against you.

"You two must be sniffing too much old newsprint," you snorted. "There's no such thing as vampires."

That's when Edgar got close, tilting your chin up with the stake. "We saw you drawing those civilians to the cave for your little monster buddies."

His words hit you heavily. You were certain you had been careful, utterly positive. Instead not only had you been tailed, you had exposed the boys to a group of radical nutcases ready to kill. Now it was personal. Steeling your resolve, you took in a deep breath. "So what?"

Allan yanked you by your shirt, looking back into your eyes with his own hate. "Where are the others," he hissed.

With everything you had you tilted your head back and bashed your forehead against his. The force made your ears ring. They always did it in the movies, but no one ever said just how much it hurt. There was a dull sting where your skull had taken the brunt end of the attack while it traveled all the way to the back, a small trickle of what you could only assume was blood dripping off your forehead. Meanwhile the teen had fallen onto his back atop the filthy floor still grasping his forehead with a groan, Edgar jumping up over Allan ready to drive that stake into your heart.

"No!" Allan grabbed his brother by his shirt, just before it came inches to your heart. "We need her alive… for now."

With a smirk you sloshed around the spit in your mouth. As soon as Edgar turned to face you, you sent the congealed saliva in a forceful blast across. Direct hit. Edgar wiped away the disgusting phlegm off his eyes and in his rage quickly uncapped a bottle of holy water. Yes, a full water bottle of it, and doused you in it.

Great. Now you were tied up. bleeding, AND WET. You gave them a disinterested glare, cocking an eyebrow. "So, again, not a vampire. Believe me now?"

The two looked at each other and quickly huddled. They would mutter amongst themselves, occasionally peeking above to glare at you and your rolling eyes. Alright, so you were human. Even a head vampire couldn't be out in daylight, and half vampires couldn't handle holy water. But in a way that only made it worse! A living servant of the undead, a spy to lure helpless victims into their grasp, a caretaker of evil! A traitor to your own kind! That settled it then.

Groaning even grew tiresome by this point. You tried to wiggle out of your crude bonds, but you had to give them some semblance of credit, this was a damn good knot!

"Alright," Edgar boomed, catching you off guard. "You may be a human, but any ally of the undead is still an enemy, and we're not showing you an ounce of mercy!"

Allan nodded, and suddenly the atmosphere took a turn for gloomy. He watched with disinterest as you tried to wedge your heel into the ground to scoot away from them but it seemed to have no use. The struggle had you thrashing until you lost balance, flopping over on your side. He stomped over and wrenched you up by your shirt, this time keeping a cautious distance from your head.

"If they're keeping you alive.. they must think you have some sort of value." Alan finally knelt down to your level with your shirt still clutched in his left hand, brandishing a hunting knife with the right. The glint of it shined in your eyes in a cruel afternoon glow. In its looming reflective surface you could see your own e/c eyes as wide as saucers. They didn't see you as human. You were an ally of their greatest enemy, just as "evil" as the vampires they were so determined to hunt. Being human was no longer a bargaining chip to prevent injury. "Call to them."

Your teeth ground until they hurt, jaw locked in place. "Go to fucking hell," you hiss.

Before you could land another blow to Allan's smug face, Edgar had grabbed you from behind to keep you in place. The blade lightly caressed the flesh of your upper arm, catching the folds of your skin leaving tiny knicks. It tempted the surface to break beneath it's cruel will as Allan repeated his command through gritted teeth. "Call. Them."

Threats of torture weren't enough to break your silence. Fine, so be it. The tip dug into your arm, skin peeling away in a stream of ruby leaving a trail behind. You sucked in a sharp hiss, but bit on your tongue before you could yelp.There was no way you'd let them get to the boys. If you had to die so they could live, so be it. You wouldn't let out so much as a whimper. Do your worst.

Late afternoon dragged out, clinging tightly to every ticking second until the sun gave way under its own weary weight. The moment night lifted, crowing hoots echoed the cave. Freedom at last! Paul swung out of the cave brimming with excitement, Dwayne flying out behind him and crashing onto a couch leaving a cloud of dust for him to sneeze out. David was the last to waltz out, looking towards your corner. Odd. You were usually the first up to greet them. It'd become almost expected by this point. Sensing David's confusion along with his own, Marko gleefully jumped down from the rafters over debris to reach your bed. Someone was certainly sleeping in!

"Y/N? C'mon baby girl, wake up! Time for..," he paused, pulling away the curtains to find your bed a disheveled mess. Your cassette tape had been eaten to shreds by your portable player, magazines and books thrown on the floor, wads of sheets kicked off topped by discarded plushies. "Guys, c'mere!"

Dwayne quickly jumped up, expecting you to be snuggled in bed like a baby bird in its nest. Instead he stood beside Marko and looked past the curtains at the disarray your little corner had become.

"Since when does Y/N go out this late at night," Paul questioned from behind the two. Whoa, did a tornado come through here? He hopped over, pulling the trashed tape from your player.

"She doesn't," David said slowly, a flood of concern spilling into his head. Fully pushing the curtains away they all stepped in, looking for any sign of where you had gone.

Paul managed to wedge out the mess of black threading and plastic, getting a good look at what you had been listening to. Def Leppard's Hysteria Album. He had scrounged up some dough a few months ago for your birthday, you guys spent the whole weekend listening to it. For some reason you liked their gifts even more when they didn't just steal them. This was your favorite thing from him.. you'd never just leave it in the player to get trashed. "Dude what happened here?"

David lifted your blankets, noticing an unfamiliar scent intruding over your delicate aroma. Someone else had been here. Someone who shouldn't have been here.

Marko was able to catch whiff of a gnarly chemical scent, bitter. Crouching down, it was almost missed. Amongst your belongings was an unfamiliar towel stained with some sort of fluid. Peeling the soggy rag off the ground he took a whiff and immediately scrunched up his nose. "Hey, David, man. Smell this. Is it familiar?"

David caught the drenched towel tossed his way and barely had to smell it to recognize the stench. Throwing it down he began storming out, standing in the center of the room trying to listen for your heartbeat. None.

"What is it? Where is she," Paul demanded. This was getting to be too much.

"This isn't a coincidence boys," David hissed, looking their way. "Someone took Y/N. That rag was drenched in some sort of concentrated chemical."

The boys grew solemn, David's words setting into each of them. Paul was enraged, already his red eyes seeping through. How dare anyone take you from him! He'll rip them apart!

Marko's silence held a cruel storm ready to burst, biting on his thumb to stifle any unsteady rage. All he could picture were horrid images of you being hurt. Fear and guilt overwhelmed him. That wasn't a dream, he really had heard you earlier crying for help. The shame of it made him clench his eyes shut. A cacophony of blame riddled his heart knowing you had been taken just beneath their noses. He shouldn't have left you alone, he should have checked on you the moment he thought something was wrong!

Dwayne stood in silence, slamming his fist against the wall. Crumbles of concrete dusted his busted knuckles that quickly healed in place. You were supposed to be theirs, and he failed to protect you! "We have to find her," he choked out, pushing a mess of black hair from his furrowed brow. The not knowing was killing him. It was killing all of them. You weren't just missing, you were stolen while they slept only feet away.

Even David felt an internal rage unlike anything he'd felt before, not only at the perpetrators, but at himself. A beast among men, eternal life with a bounty of strength worth a thousand. What fucking good was it when while he slept you were torn from your bed? But another thought sat heavy in his heart. Their hearing was impeccable, damn near perfect. Why hadn't you called them? A scream, a cry would be enough! He began to march over to your bed again, but a new perspective had just granted him a moment of clarity. Hidden just under your blankets was a broken strip of red cloth one could only assume was a headband. Clasped tightly in vengeful fists, David's eyes turned bloodshot. He knew exactly who took you.

You weren't even sure how many hours had gone by at this point. The brother's grew restless at your resolve. While they regrouped in the corner to reevaluate their plan, you had found a nail jutting out from the floorboards to scrape your ankles on, slowly sawing away the worn rope that kept your legs together. Any movement stung. Cuts decorated up your exposed thighs and arms. Fresh blood caked over dried wounds, dirt became mud by this point from the excessive wounds and had smeared up your legs. They had conflicting feelings about throwing any swings your way. You were surprised to hear Edgar verbally voice his hesitations regarding unleashing a blow on a girl. Allan stepped in, but came to the same conclusion that he couldn't hit you. Well, after four good catches to your face. Utterly moronic, a knife was far more painful. Perhaps it gave them some sort of distance from you, punching was just too personal. Still, your busted lip was not appreciative of the last minute sentiment. Part of you wanted to mock them. If you're going to kidnap and torture someone go all the way at least, don't puss out half way through. But, you had other plans. You rapidly ran the rope across the nail while they bickered back and forth, nearly there.. and then you heard a massive thud land on the roof.

No. No not yet. You quickly dragged your feet as fast as you could while the brothers flew into a panic. But now your feet were free. Using your knees you hoisted yourself up to the nail, rapidly dragging your arms across to saw the straw away. Edgar and Allan began checking each other for weapons, and right as the rammed into the door again your wrists came free. Right!

You dashed for the brothers, snatching the bottles of water and dumping out every drop into the ground. They ran to grab you as you tried to bolt out the door, almost able to see Marko in the air above when suddenly someone had grabbed a fistful of your hair. That was enough to make you scream. A chunk was ripped from your scalp, the rest still tightly grasped in Edgar's fist.

David watched you bolt out the rickety old barn, ready to fly down to you until they caught you in their grasp. Paul didn't even hesitate once they snatched you back, that is until he caught sight of a shimmering glare wedged tightly against your throat.

"Get back," Edgar demanded, twisting your arm. The pain rang up through your back to the point you feared your shoulder was being pulled out of place. Your breathing began to become shallow when something cold slid on your throat, Edgar's free hand pressing the blade to your throat so tightly a thin line formed beneath it.

"You're fucking dead, you little shit," Marko hissed, jumping off the tin roof.

"M-Marko," you whimpered. You didn't dare move an inch.

"Back off death breath! Or your little pet becomes your next meal!"

With that warning Edgar tilted the blade just beneath your chin.

You tried to pull your head back to keep your distance from the foreboding piece, looking at Marko with fear.

"I'm sorry…"

Marko took a step back, unsure of how to approach this. Any moves he made could result in you being taken. He could see the barrage of wounds coating your skin. It made his shoulders shake, just aching to rip this punk's head off.

From inside the barn Dwayne hovered over the rafters, shattering the bulb that provided the only light in the room. Left in the dark, Allan grasped at the wooden stake in his hand. He could hear Dwayne rapidly flying through the barn, but he could never move fast enough to see him. "Come out you coward!"

Allan's scream alerted Edgar to his brother, turning his head just soon enough to watch him bled dry. Dwayne pried his fangs from the limp teen with a disgusted snarl in the dark, chucking the corpse at his brother's feet.

"NOOOOO!"

You took the chaos as an opportunity to escape, knocking his hand off of you and trying to bolt forward. Paul flew to snatch you, his hands tightly wrapped around yours when he heard the most hideous sound. Flesh tearing, bones cracking under the pressure with squelches of blood pittering down into the ground. His fingers trembled watching your delicate face drop in horror.

Edgar stood behind, only seeing the red of his rage as he drive the knife further into the small of your back. "Die you witch bitch!"

Those were his last words as David jutted his hand through Edgar's chest. You screamed in horror watching Edgar barely have a reaction to his own heart being held outside his body, collapsing into a hollow husk of flesh. What air you had was rapidly escaping your lungs, falling in a cascade into Paul's arms.

"No, no no! Y/N!" He dropped to his knees, holding you tightly against him. David knelt down beside you two, Marko running and skidding on his knees beside you while Dwayne leaned over you. They were all holding back tears, David's hand brushing over the hilt of the knife still jutting out.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccups between tears, fingers tangled in Paul's jacket. "I co-couldn't… let them g-get you."

Marko shushed you, running his fingers through your hair. "Its okay baby girl, we know. Just hang on, okay?"

David wedged you into a sitting position onto his knees, looking at Paul. "As soon as I pull," he began, pushing your hair away from your neck ", you bite."

The suggestion sent chills through you. "B-but.."

"Y/N, kitten, it's right through your lumbar artery," David whispered softly, lightly tapping the hilt with his gloved hand sending a dull pain through your entire back. "This has gotta come out. But when I pull it out, you could bleed to death."

"Please don't leave us, baby girl." Marko held your hand, looking at you in fear. He wasn't ready to lose you. None of them were. If you had to turn to stay with them, they'd do it in a heartbeat.

With a slow breath in, you hugged yourself against David and closed your eyes. Paul moved beside your neck as instructed, but Dwayne and Marko each took one of your wrists in their grasp. They all wanted to turn you. "O..okay.. d-do it.."

David kissed your cheek softly, clutching his hand around the knife. It hardly put up any resistance against his vampiric strength. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but cry out. Tears flooded your face, nails dragging against David's jacket. When they could see the tip of the blade surface, Paul dove his fangs into your shoulder. David bit into the left side of your neck, while Marko and Dwayne tore into your wrists. What should take hours only took moments.

Marko held onto you, closing his eyes tightly trying to muscle through your agonized cries before pulling his mouth off. Tears spilled from Paul's eyes, tearing away before he lost control. The taste of your bittersweet blood lingered on his tongue. Dwayne and David held you in place, and finally you had felt your heart stall, then stop.

You didn't need to catch your breath anymore, there was no longer any breath left to catch. "I'm sorry… I'm so so sorry,:" you whimpered, buried against David's chest. "Th-they had holy water, they were going to ambush you… I-I couldn't risk it.."

"No more, kitten," David shushed, holding your head on his chest.

"Don't worry about it princess." Dwayne ran his hands over your hair, kissing the top of your head. "This won't happen again."

"We are never letting you out of our sight again," Marko cooed, nuzzling your hand against his face. Paul gently kissed your available cheek, looking up at the black sky shifting to grey. "Guys, the sun's comin' up."

"So it is." David lifted you bridal style into his arms, kissing you softly. "Let's get you home babygirl. Tonight we'll take you out for your first hunt, but for now, you need your rest."

A burst up wind carried you off into the air, holding on tightly to David as he flew you over the ocean, above the clouds, back to the safety of the hotel. Your home. Forever.

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wildshub · 3 years ago

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WHO: The Twilight of Adam Boys WHAT: The boys come across Warren’s dead body and bury him. WHEN: Day 3 NOTE: For future reference.

Blue blue had been replaying the entire night over in his head. he had been against leaving sawyer and warren alone on the cliff, they were all a team in this but theyd always be combative until they got that. maybe the guys saw how much carrying another guy around + a lack of good sleep had done to blue, he himself felt like his energy was cut in half. maybe that's why he relented and followed the rest back, in what felt like a half sleep daze. But there they all stood, having seen far too much of what remained of warren on earth. it was the first dead body blue had ever seen, and the image seemed to puncture through any other thought. "what um, what did you guys last say to him?" his eyes housed some extra moisture, but he would be unashamed of this. a brother died, even if he wasnt blue's favorite. and sawyer, soy dog, being given this huge task, and having this be the outcome, it was heartbreaking. "i last told him he needed to translate the message..." he wished he had said anything more comforting, personable, leas tinged with annoyance. but that was the truth

Kian Kian had never been good at dealing with death. When the great aunt he barely ever spoke to on his mother's side passed away, he hid in the coat closet at her wake and refused to come out until the body was gone. That was eight years ago. It wasn't any easier now, standing here in front of a lifeless, mangled corpse...especially not that of who, just hours earlier, was joking and laughing and lazing around like they weren't in dire need of rescue. He had to tear his eyes away from Warren, focusing his gaze on a rip in the hem of his t-shirt. "Dunno. Probably something about how much of a twat he was being," Kian mumbled, none of his usual bite to his words. "But we were all kind of being twats yesterday."

Sawyer Warren was a fuck up. And, selfishly, Sawyer felt drawn to him for that very reason—because he took comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only person on the isle whose smart mouth and poor rationale got him into trouble more often than it got him any good. When Warren chose to stay with the fire, Sawyer hung back with him. He could read people like he read books, knew there wasn’t something right with the guy after he’d been choked out, beaten up, and hung off the ledge of a cliff within an inch of his life. If he indulged in a little alcohol he’d been keeping from the rest of the boys—and if Sawyer shared some with him—nobody needed to know. He’d needed that liquid courage to face camp in the morning...fuck. It felt like a given, only seven hours ago, that he’d even wake up to see the next morning. “S’my fault,” he said suddenly, drawing fourteen sets of eyes away from Warren’s body and to where he stood, feet away from the group. His voice shook as he spoke. “We were drinkin’, a-and I knew he was upset about the radio and shit, and I should’ve…looked after ‘im.”

Joe Instead of properly processing the events of yesterday Joe had pushed them to the back of his mind. He shoved the memories into a filing cabinet where they became an unorganised jumble of shouting, pulling and dashed hope. He trudged back to the camp with the hope that a good night's sleep would fix everything. He prayed that a new dawn would make for a bright new start or maybe he would wake up to find out that the last forty-eight hours had been a nightmare based on some disaster movie he watched years ago. But turns out the exact opposite happened and the new dawn brought more fucking anguish. Eyes still transfixed on Warren's lifeless body he was about to tell the Adams that the last thing he probably said to Warren was be careful, Joe wished he meant be careful in general instead of specifically with the radio. Maybe things would have ended differently if his past life prioritised Warren's life instead of a stupid old radio. That train of thought was interrupted by Sawyer. "Don't you fucking dare." It was supposed to be a command but it was more of a whimper. The words blame yourself remained stuck at the back of Joe's thought. "It wasn't your fault,ok. You couldn't have seen it coming." Yeah, Sawyer stayed behind to babysit Warren but making sure somebody didn't get yelled at wasn't the same as making sure they didn't die.

Dash Dash had seen a dead body once before but Warren’s looked mad different, mangled and limp and scraped up from the rocks. He loitered away from the group huddled together in lieu of getting any closer to the body after the panicky, failed revival. Touching his cold, lifeless skin to drag him ashore had been enough macabre bullshit for one day. Dash flexed his hand as he looked at Warren’s lax face. Well, third time’s the charm, he thought wryly, then felt a little sick. Any of them could die here apparently, and it started to feel a whole lot less like Total Drama Island as the Lost vibes violently rocketed up. The neckbeards who worked at Google were gonna have to hurry up and tap into their space stations to find them before someone else met their untimely demise. His eyes cut toward Sawyer when the other guy spoke and then to Joe when he replied. Dash shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, I mean, I guess there’s not much you could’ve done about it if you were asleep, man. Alcohol plus dangerous heights equals...” he trailed off. He rubbed the back of his head, eyes narrowed when he noticed something missing. Warren’s belt bag was gone; it had been one of the first things Dash noticed about his fit on the place, not entirely without envy. “Looks like Mother Ocean wanted his fanny pack.” He paused. “Uh... should we let her take him too? Yunno, ol’ Viking funeral style. Those were basically his people, and we gotta figure out what to do with the body.” Dash was all for suggesting some kind of action if that meant he didn’t have to stare at a bloated corpse anymore. Besides, he was going to start stanking the beach up in the hot sun sooner or later.

Lukas Put him in front of the grossest, goriest movie or game and Lukas had a stomach of steel. The second he laid eyes on Warren, he lost the airplane nuts and seltzer that had filled his stomach the night before. Though he did have the decency to at least step away from the group to do it. Wiping his mouth as he returned taking up the spot beside Dash towards the back of the group to avoid his stomach being unsettled again. He shook his head when Sawyer spoke up, wasn’t his fault he wanted to say but he was worried he’d say it with a side of puke. Thankfully Joe had them covered on that front, even if he did say it with a wobble of his lower lip. “ Isn’t that usually with a boat and fire and shit? “ Like that even mattered right now but it was a lot easier than thinking about having to bury Warren.

Liam for the first time in his life, liam was glad he was shorter than most. surrounded by so many taller than him, liam couldn't get a good look at the body in the water, not that he wanted to. while he may have found warren annoying and after the whole ordeal with the radio, everyone was pretty pissed; but that didn't mean he wanted the boy to die. it didn't take long before liam's eyes stung with tears a the thought of one of them dying. he looked to sawyer as he explained what happened, liam reached out and placed a hand on his bicep. "yeah, it's not your fault," he repeated joe's words, but as he did, the tears started to spill. liam quickly rubbed his hands over his cheeks to try and hide the evidence before some of the meaner members of the group (cough sebastian cough) noticed. dash and lukas started talking about what to do with the body and liam had nothing to add, worried if he did have anything, his voice was shake and crack if he spoke.

Kian "He's got family, though," said Kian, shifting his weight from foot to foot. As much as he desperately wanted to go all out of sight, out of mind with Warren's corpse, the thought of lighting him up and sending him off to sea settled in his stomach like a handful of rocks. He couldn't imagine being Warren's parents in that situation, forever haunted by the fact that they'd never get to see their son laid to rest. Fuck, this was all so fucking fucked. "Maybe we should keep him buried somewhere cool. So he doesn't...get too bad before rescue comes."

Joe "Kian's right." Joe said bluntly, breaking the silence that hung over them. He buried his hands deeply into his shorts pocket. Fuck he wished he had his jacket. It didn't matter that he was already being smothered by the humidity of the island."Just throwing him into the sea would be dead disrespectful." Warren was a disrespectful twat when he was alive but that didn't mean he deserved to be dumped into the ocean. He was a person with a family that loved him. Plus, a decomposing body would probably fuck up the ocean floor's ecosystem or whatever it was called and the poor crabs didn't deserve that. Joe took Liam quickly rubbing his cheek as a sign he needed to go into full distraction mode (something he learned to do from awkward family dinners)."And there's so much shit wrong with the viking funeral idea, no offence Dash. We don't have a boat and the Vikings were from that bit of Europe that looks like a tongs grabbing a bit of lettuce. That's not where Switzerland is." He was hardly a viking expert but being forced to go on a two hour coach trip to go to some museum on the other side of the Pennines when he was in year 3 counted for something. It didn't stop him from being complicit in the death of some rich bastard but it counted for something." Not that any of that matters."

Sebastian Sebastian looked at Warren's lifeless corpse and saw the shape of his own hands reflected in the discolored bruising around the other boy's neck. Would it ever go away or would he be buried with the reminder that his last hours had involved Sebastian trying to kill him? He swallowed hard, disturbed by the thought but the lump in his throat refused to shift in even the slightest way. He decided not to answer Blue's question, everybody knew what Sebastian's last words to the other boy had been and he didn't want to repeat them, not now. "It's not your fault," he insisted, his voice low and gravely as he responded to Sawyer, "You're not his keeper," none of them were. They were looking out for each other to an extent but they weren't obliged to one another beyond that, not really. He looked over at Kian and nodded his head, "Yeah," he concurred when Joe spoke up, assuring the group that Kian was indeed right. He cleared his throat softly and contemplated their options, "We gotta bury him," he announced, though the prospect was unbearably grim. "The animals will get him if we don't," that was worse, much worse.

Sawyer Sawyer appreciated the words of comfort—really, he did—but nice as they were, they did little to lighten the guilt sitting heavy atop his chest. He was the last person Warren ever spoke to. The last person Warren ever saw. If any of them had the ability to prevent his death, it was Sawyer, and he just…drifted off to sleep after a measly half-canteen of cognac. Did he ever ask if Warren was okay? Did he notice if he was drunk enough to make any dumb, rash choices? And if he did, did he even care? With a hard sniff, Sawyer tightened his jaw and focused his attention on an upturned shell poking out of the sand. Having a pity party for himself, he decided, wasn’t gonna bring Warren back from the dead. “Yeah. We can use that emergency blanket to wrap him up, keep the bugs an’ shit out.”

Dash Yeesh, it was just a suggestion, Dash thought, and it was easier to focus on that small smidge of annoyance than the word 'family'. Things were less complicated when Dash could look into Warren's empty eyes and imagine that he spontaneously generated on the plane like one of those meat flies. Okay, so now other cultures’ funerary rites are disrespectful? Awright, cheers, Sir Moseley, he wanted to say, half-jokey in tone and a painful mimicry of Joe's accent, but the quivery feeling that rattled his insides made him swallow the words almost immediately. Maybe it was his Catholic upbringing, and sure he just suggested they log roll Warren into the sea, but cracking jokes in front of a dead body actually seemed kinda uncouth. Kept him from pretending to snore in response to Joe’s list of Viking-related facts, too. Before he could say anything though, his mouth snapped shut when Sebastian spoke. If there was anyone he’d believe actually went on a Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde midnight ride and yeeted Warren from the cliff, it was that guy. The bruises on Warren’s neck seemed evidence enough for a case of premeditated murder in his books. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and his gut twisted again at Sawyer’s next words, the prospective task nauseating. “Sure, yeah. Makes sense.” He cleared his throat and nodded, then promptly expelled the thought of bugs burrowing into Warren’s carcass from his mind or else he’d follow in Lukas’ footsteps in the retching department. He gave his buddy a commiserating pat on the back as he looked over his shoulder at the stretch of beach, totally lost as to where they’d have to put him. “When my mom’s dog died, we had to bury that thing pretty deep so the bobcats wouldn’t dig him up. So, uh... guess we should get started on that, too. Might take awhile.”

Kian If he wasn't in the presence of a decomposing corpse, Kian would've rolled his eyes. The flippant way Dash was acting about the whole "Warren is dead" situation unnerved him more than he would've liked to admit; as if this was just another fucking Saturday for him. "There's no bobcats in Hawaii," he said.

Lukas " Polar bears then, " Lukas retorted dryly. Even if he had made it to day 3 of the island before making a LOST reference, he wasn't gonna start outright joking about things this soon after Warren's death. He'd give it, like, five more minutes. " Point is, I don't wanna meet whatever the fuck lives on this island because it decided to make Warren a midnight snack. " And he also didn't want to deal with the body, clearly he did not have the stomach for it so he was definitely aiming to be part of the dig crew. " It shouldn't be near camp either. Just in case. "

Dash Dash exhaled sharply. The words ‘what did I do wrong!!!!’ broadcasted themselves in bright, obnoxious colors in his head. Did it start when he wouldn’t say some bullshit things over Warren’s dead body about him and what Dash might or might not have said to him in their final moments together? Because that felt insincere and shitty. He wasn’t going to pretend that he meant anything to Warren, or make the guy’s death about himself. The best thing they could do was save him from the indignity of lying around like a washed up CPR doll while they all stood around crying. He snapped then pointed at Lukas. “Exactly." Kian and Joe wanted Warren to get back to his family? Well, hey, Dash was sure there was a fair chance they wouldn’t wanna see him with chunks missing. But fuck him for trying to be helpful, apparently. “Hence: deep hole.” He lifted his hands in faux surrender. “Can we move on from bitching at me? Yeah? I’ll help dig.” Anything to put some distance between himself and Warren’s body. He hadn’t looked at him once since he said the Viking thing, and he was happy to put that off for awhile longer. He nudged Lukas with his elbow. "Let's find a spot. Who's gonna help?"

Sawyer So that was that. Warren was dead and he wasn’t coming back and they were going to bury his body deep in the ground so wild animals couldn’t eat away at his rot before help arrived. Sawyer felt like shouting, or hitting something, or running off into the ocean until the saltwater swallowed him whole. He felt everything at once and nothing at all. “I’m gonna...go grab the blanket.” If he had to spend any longer staring at Warren’s emotionless face and twisted limbs, he wasn’t sure he’d make it to the burial.

Callum “I’ll help.” They were the first words to leave Callum’s mouth since they found Warren’s body. Unlike most of the group, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the boy’s mangled corpse. He fucking hated Warren when the bastard was alive and breathing, but looking at him now, unmoving and silent for the longest period of time since he’s met him, Callum actually felt something other than irritation and rage for the boy. Was it regret? Guilt perhaps? And possibly some weird variation of yearning where he just wanted the idiot to get up and start doing something stupid like he always did. Yes, he was an annoying son of bitch who fucked up drastically, but he was also the first person Callum saw on this island. The first person to make him feel less alone. Whatever was going on in Callum the longer he stared at Warren’s body wasn’t great. It was a strange mix of things he didn’t quite understand and he wanted so badly for the feelings to go away and be replaced with something familiar. Something he knew how to react appropriately for. Something like... anger. That’s what he preferred to feel when he couldn’t understand what was going on within him. He turned his head when Sawyer spoke, grinding his teeth together and squaring his jaw. “Sure you can do that? You're not gonna let your fingers get all slippery and have it be blown away by the wind? Maybe we should have someone go with you, you know, since you clearly can’t be held responsible for a simple. fucking. task.”

Blue blue froze, bewildered by callum's reaction. while he knew in their time together that callum couldnt be....intense, how could someone so clever not hear the pain in sawyers voice. dash, a guy he admired for his unabashed self and how he expressed it with ease, was ready to point fingers. "it wasn't an easy task. was it an easy task for us to keep warren away from the radio? we don't know what the hell happened up there last night, for fucks sake, if you think something shady happened, share with your brothers." his voice broke a little on the last word. and his eyes darted from callum to sebastian. he expected it from seb, but he thought cal ran cooler than that. "Ill go with sawyer...." his eyes darted more quickly than usual to each boy, wondering on their thoughts. though he always gave a helping hand, he knew it usually came with a smack from a more callous present, but he already put his faith out there, and he did it for sawyer, and the truth.

Sawyer When Callum spoke, Sawyer found himself wishing he’d just punched him across the face—would’ve hurt a whole lot less than taking some salt and throwing it to the fucking sea to pour acid on the wound, instead. He recoiled as though Callum had shot him in the chest, mouth working and gaze darting from boy to boy as he fumbled for something to say. Where were you when Warren decided to hang back? When he needed someone to help carry him down the hill? When he was hovering over the ledge of a cliff and having his windpipe crushed by someone twice his size, where were you? Where the fuck were you? His arm swung uselessly at his side. The ugly truth of it all was that Callum was at the camp, and Sawyer was sleeping right beside Warren, and neither of them were able to stop him from taking a tumble into the ocean. And nothing he could say was going to change that. So, Sawyer did what he knew to do best, and choked out something that might’ve sounded like an “I’m sorry” before he turned and started walking briskly in the other direction.

Kian "Fantastic," Kian said, all-too-ready to participate in the blame game when it suited him but not to stand up for the other members of the group when they were under fire, "you pissed off the guy with the criminal record. Great going." Maybe that meant Callum's body would be next to mysteriously wind up wedged between two rocks tomorrow morning. Maybe Kian would've preferred that to hearing him flex his macho bullshit over a group of grieving 18-year-olds. His arms found themselves wound tight around his middle as he moved away from the body—the last thing he wanted to do was go searching in the jungle with two of the most annoying people on the isle, but like fuck he was going to sit here and stare at a rotting corpse for the next hour. "Guess I'll go, too, then.”

Lukas Lukas was team dig even before Dash nudged him with his arm, starting to move when he did. But he'd barely taken a step when some other bullshit started. Callum spoke up, and was mad at Sawyer. As if he wasn't suspect number two in Lukas' mind. He'd spent all of Warren's two days on the island threatening the dude, was no homo best buds with Sebastian, and had already taken a swipe at Dash. Speaking of, as Callum was having a go at Sawyer, he cast a glance to Dash, making a quick face as if to say What the fuck, are you seeing this shit? And then just as he's trying to start moving again Blue said, share with your brothers and Lukas had to try really fucking hard not to laugh, especially because his voice cracked. These mother fuckers weren't his brothers, especially not Warren. He rubbed the back of his hand against his nose, trying to conceal the small exhale that had escaped, as he started moving again, the task of digging a fucking grave on his mind. " For auto theft– not assault and battery. " Lukas pointed out as he walked, meaning it in Sawyer's defence. The perfect proof that having a criminal charge didn't make you inherently dangerous was Liam, but since the guy was crying he wasn't gonna throw his name down the gauntlet. And he also wasn't gonna offer up his own name and felony seeing as Kian had been so quick to judge Sawyer's record. For what he was going to say next he leaned into the small group going to dig a grave, lowering his voice to avoid getting some bruises to match Warren's, " 'sides, think we all fuckin' know who's got the quick temper 'round here. " He said, raising his brows. Lukas was ready to accept that Warren was just a moron that slipped off the cliff in the middle of the night, but if they were gonna point fingers he didn't get how anyone was pointing them anywhere but Gigantor.

Blue blue rose his hands up, palms to his brothers as he listened to his peers, his fellow castaways though it was easier to think of them as as more in his nature. "seb lost his shit more than anyone." The image of his hands on Warrens neck burned hard but that's wasn't the whole story. "but his strength helped pull warren up when he hung by the ledge.." blue looked each castaway in the eye,unfazed by the personal distance. "If any of you know more than dumb guy blue....say it!"

JJ He understood the tensions raising and the unpredictability of reactions to ensue. However, he knew couple of things for certain, Warren was dead. The radio was gone. The help is not here. There was no need, in his opinion, to pass around blame or mope for too long or make a bad situation even worse. Then again, if his opinion mattered they wouldn’t have left Sawyer and Warren alone over night in the first place. He will look over at Callum then Sawyer than back on Warren and laugh. “Sorry, it’s really not funny...” he will say and nod at Luke and Blue who seemed to have been the most clear minded at the moment. Aside from palpable tension in the air that is. “Sawyer man, don’t beat yourself up. It’s was reckless as fuck leaving yall alone up there in the first place.” He said in his best attempt to provide some comfort to the other before focusing on what to do with the issue at hand. “Burying him in the woods is the best option. We wrap him, dig deep so animals can’t dig him out and mark the place so we can find him when the rescue gets here. But first...” he will kneel down and start digging through Warrens pockets. If there was anything there, they could use it more than the dead guy.

Dash Without a backwards glance, he started toward the jungle, lowering his voice like Lukas did just in case: “Did I or did I not call this shit Day One, dude? Roasted. Fuckin’. Pigs.” He shook his head. “The whole Macho Man rescue thing? Red herring moves. Zigging when we expect him to zag. Classic misdirection.” He looked at Callum out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t know if him and Sebastian had any kind of bro bonding moments so far, but Dash at least knew he was on Team Sawyer’s Fault which put them at odds once again. Perfect. His shoulders hunched and he fought back a shiver; the moment they flipped Warren over onto his back replaying in his mind like the most twisted boomerang. The word family haunted him almost as much as those few seconds. “This blows,” he said with feeling. Once they past the treeline, he picked up the first fallen stick he saw. It looked like it broke off at an angle, leaving a slanted end. “I once watched one of those 3 AM History Channel specials about how aliens helped ancient people build pyramids and shit. Alien Theory Guy goes, ‘You want me to believe these Incans could dig thousands of holes totally randomly? Nah, that’s a Martian move.’” He looked over the stick in hand. It seemed pretty sturdy, about an inch and a half in diameter. “Then some corduroy jacket-wearing Ivy Leaguer crops up and says, 'Ever heard of sticks, bitch?’” He cleared his throat again and rubbed at his jaw. Weirdly the further they got from Warren’s body, the more it preoccupied him. Like now that they weren’t looking, he’d pull a grisly Toy Story move and get to his feet. Except he’d be making daddy jokes in his Dr. Doofenshmirtz accent. Dash held up the stick for inspection. “What do you think? Could try and make it work a little bit. Just so we don’t all end up with bloody hands by the end of this.”

Kian “What in the actual fuck are you talking about,” was the only response Kian could muster when Dash started going off on a tangent about Aliens and pyramids. Warren didn’t need a tomb, he needed to be lowered into the earth and kept cool long enough to be recognizable when someone—anyone—could come and exhume him. Chopping him up and stuffing his body parts into little holes in the ground seemed like JJ’s gig, and like, they didn’t need even more of a reason to be suspected of group murder. “We’re burying him, not cutting him open and harvesting his organs. Only reason there’d be any blood is if Godzilla here and his buddy King Kong decide to swing on one of us again.”

Sebastian Sebastian was admittedly surprised by Callum's response. He'd seen flickers of the other male's disdain toward the group but at the time, it had seem warranted. Now, however, he seemed more irritable about Sawyer's failure than perturbed by the fact that the course of the evening, regardless of whether it had to do with Sawyer at all, had resulted in the death of somebody they knew. As he digested it, he considered that maybe Callum was in shock, maybe he'd never experienced death and couldn't process it. When Sebastian's grandfather had died, his Dad had been angry for no reason at all but it was a part of the grieving process, his mother had assured him. "We're not arguing about who is in the right and who is in the wrong right now, we're not arguing at all- we're getting this done," he instructed, leaving little room for protest. Then Jorts piped up, "Who the fuck are you pointing fingers at, Jorts?" Sebastian shot at the other male and he would have had more, far less civil words for the other boy if Blue hadn't chimed in.

Lukas God, Sebastian was so back and forth wasn’t he? Yesterday he was barely tolerable and now he was back to giving off future military recruitment vibes, like pick a lane already. Perhaps stupidly, Lukas rolled his eyes as Sebastian pulled his attention from what Dash was saying. “ It was just a fucking joke, “ well, sort of. It was a joke he had meant. “ Obviously, he took a drunken swan dive off the cliff, right? “ he looked around the group, confirming that was the consensus. “ But you’re not gonna go far trying to convince anyone that those are my hand prints on his neck, that’s all I’m saying. “ He held up his hands as he said it, continuing to take a couple steps backwards before he turned back around, hands returning to his sides. Back to the project of digging a grave for the less than dearly departed. He grinned along with what Dash was saying about Martians building the pyramids. An easy chuckle leaving his lips too. Then head turns to Kian and Lukas finds himself unable to stop another stupid snort escaping him. “ Who the fuck is talking about cutting him up? “ He asked, amused Kian had even gotten to that point. “ Like maybe old grave robber over there, but not me that’s for sure, “ he said, feeling a little too bold about the distance between them and most of the group as he nodded back at JJ literally looting a corpse. Though the comment of King Kong and Godzilla was a good one and again he laughed. Reaching for a stick like Dash had he held it up, inspecting it as if he knew what would make a good grave digging stick. “ What is it about big dudes that think they gotta fucking rough everyone up to prove something? Like we get it, you’re fucking boring, quit making it our problem.”

JJ He looks over at Lukas "He's dead, he won't need any of his shit. We might."

Callum Seeing JJ drop down to his knees and not hesitate in the slightest to search Warren’s pockets for something valuable was fucked up beyond belief but Callum couldn’t argue that he did have a fair point. And if they couldn’t find anything useful, maybe they could find something to give back to his family. It was then that Callum took notice of the watch on Warren’s left wrist. Fuck, was he really about to do this? With an irritated sigh (because even in death, Warren was making him do things he didn’t want to do), he walked over to the other side of Warren and knelt down to undo his watch. He figured they could give it back to his family along with Warren’s body when they were rescued. Rising to his feet once he was done, he brushed some dirt off of Warren’s watch with the pad on his thumb. The watch face was cracked and after giving it a closer look, he noticed that the hands weren’t moving, stopped at 1:49AM. “Did everyone manage to sleep through the night last night?” He then asked, his gaze still fixated on the watch.

Kian “Something something toxic masculinity, something something animals.” Kian knew he could be a dickhead sometimes, but at least he was a dickhead to everyone. Boys like Sebastian and Callum were wolves in a pack, sniffing out other people’s weaknesses and arranging them accordingly on the ever-arbitrary pecking order. In their eyes, all you needed to be was tall and muscular to be deemed worthy of respect, and that was pretty fucking gay if you asked him. But god forbid anyone point that out to them. “They’ve never had to develop personalities beyond being human jockstraps and it shows.”

Sebastian Sebastian kept his arms folded tight to his chest, perhaps to stop himself from choking anybody else out that afternoon. Everybody knew that the bruising around Warren's throat matched Sebastian's prints perfectly but they also knew that it was as a result of the argument yesterday and not anything that had happened over night- right? His gaze shifted between a few of the other boys, trying to read their thoughts to no avail. He shrugged his shoulders, "I woke up a few times but it was too dark to tell the time," he explained, looking at his own watch briefly, "I don't think I even bothered to check," he confessed a moment later, he'd been exhausted, maybe even a little delirious the few times he'd woken up, irritated by the sand, the cold wind chill, the sound of other boys snoring and talking in their sleep.

Dash Dash distracted himself from Kian’s bonkers, nauseating interpretation of his suggestion with what Lukas had to say. “He's pretty batshit for doing that but can’t imagine they’ll find anything useful on him, unless they plan on hocking the fancy watch when we get out of here. Other than that, he’s probably just got a busted Juul, a nipple piercing, and a few kroner he planned on slipping to the flight attendant for a splash of Stoli in his OJ. None of which are super beneficial to our survival.” As the conversation continued on the topic of Chud and Chuddier, he scoffed lightly when Kian said ‘human jockstrap’. Dash used a similar phrase the other day too and he wasn’t stoked about their thoughts running parallel right about then. He wasn’t stoked about some dude hating him on sight either, but whatever. He poked at the ground with the flat edge of the stick. “My bet’s Mayor of Poutineville’s concussed to hell. Goddamned walking, talking potatohead. Dude operates on nothing but pure, scrambled egg-brain aggression. Rabid dog ass — no fuckin’ hope for the guy.” He stopped when they soon hit a relatively clear area, not too dense with trees and not so far from the beach that they couldn’t hear the sound of the ocean waves or catch the odd glimpse of sand. There was enough shade that the air felt cooler too, and he was sure that it’d be easy to find again. In a pure asinine move, Dash thought hopefully 'hey, maybe Warren'll like it here.' He leaned on his stick and surveyed the dirt like he had any real idea of what he was doing. When he dug a hole for the little rat dog back home, the soil had been pretty sandy. He hoped they had a similar experience here, because he didn’t wanna lug rocks around on top of burying a body. It had to be immoral for a day to be physically and emotionally exhausting. “How’s here?”

Lukas Lukas couldn't help but feel a little elated when Kian joined in on the trash talking, his choice of words especially tickling him. " That's fuckin' true, ay, " he agreed, more than happy to accept that Sebastian and Callum were so easily annoyed by him because they were jealous of his sparkling personality. Even if that was not what Kian had meant in the slightest. " For sure, dude, " he concord with Dash on the topic of Callum without missing a beat. " Yo, you know who they remind me of? " Enthusiasm quickly filling his tone, looking to Kian and Dash, " You ever play Outlast? " He did not stop and wait for an answer to that question, though he probably should have, " The fucking twin meatheads from that. The ones that just like walk around the map, like, " He severely hunched his shoulders, arms dangling comically at his sides as he pulled his face into an over exaggerated expression for the next few goofy steps before he straightened up again. " Dicks out and just saying weird as fuck shit to creep you out. " Lukas was misremembering a lot of details but he could not forget the fact that those characters had been naked the entire fucking game, seemingly for no reason. That image had been seared into his brain in 2013 like a curse and he had not been able to forget it. By the time he's finished his comparison, Dash had stopped in a clearing. When he asked how's here, Lukas actually looked around the place. It seemed as good a place as they could get without putting in, like, actual effort so it seemed perfect. " Yeah, here's probably good. " He dug at the ground with the heel of his shoe, noting how it moved easily out of his way. " Ground's not too hard. " he assessed before moving again. Drawing out an approximately Warren-sized rectangle with the stick he'd picked up, before kneeling to the ground, ready to dig. " How deep d'you think? Like two, three feet? "

Kian Kian could only blink at Lukas's comparison, nose wrinkling in disgust as he tried not to imagine Callum and Sebastian running around camp with their dicks out. Unlike Dash, he couldn't seem to decide who was the worst offender of the two; in his book, a cunt was a cunt was a cunt. He followed the other boys to the clearing and stomped around a bit in the dirt, testing the soil's softness with the soles of his trainers. "Yeah, I'd say a meter at the least. We want it to be deep enough for the animals to keep away, but not so deep we can't get him back out." If they'd have to dig him back out. Personally, Kian was hoping that the rescue team came armed with shovels. "Anyone have objections to using their hands?" He asked with a pointed glance at Dash.

Callum "Hm," was all Callum could think of to say in response to Sebastian. Out of all them, the other boy was clearly one of the most upset with Warren yesterday. But seeing as Sebastian was also one of the first to dive in to save Warren, Callum didn't feel the need to prod for further information. "We need to ask Sawyer what the hell the two of them were doing last night after we left when he gets back here. And what time they fell asleep. All that." He tucked Warren's watch into the pocket of his pants, looking around for sign of Sawyer. "Why the hell is he taking so long? It's a blanket, not a pile of rocks." He shook his head, irritated. Then he shifted his gaze to JJ. "Did you find anything?"

Dash Dash shook his head but still watched Lukas act out the so-called Dick Out Twins with sincere fascination. “Sheee-it. Uncanny resemblance, dude. You even got that bowlegged caveman shtick down pat.” The internet told his mom that they had to bury the dog at least three feet to keep any predators from digging him up, so Dash nodded when Lukas suggested that depth. His eyes still went skyward when Kian agreed, because wasn’t that motherfucker just giving him shit about the very same topic because ‘there are no bobcats in Hawaii’ like five minutes ago? If Dash said it, it was bullshit. But if Kian said it, it was apparently obvious fact. Good to know! he thought sarcastically. At Kian’s question, Dash hummed contemplatively. “Huh. Okay. Here’s the plan,” he started, walking closer to where Lukas drew a rectangle in the dirt. “When the Russians spot us on their satellites and decide to hit up their Navy—yunno, headed up by Nikita Khrushchev's chemically preserved ballsack—and then a rusty little battlecruiser rolls up to haul us to the Gulag, I’m gonna ask Count Admiral Baba Yaga to take out his busted Samsung and google the Ancient fuckin’ Mesoamericans for you.” Dash lifted the stick for emphasis. “Digging stick. It’s a thing, and I’m gonna use it.” He suddenly felt very sure of his expertise as a man who had dug literally one (1) hole in the woods in his lifetime, and ignored the fact that he only doubled down once Kian gave him such a hard time. He stuck the flat end of the stick into the ground and pressed downward. There was some resistance, possibly a shallow root snapping under the pressure, then he bent it to upend a large chunk of dirt. “Hooty-fuckin’-hoo, it works," he announced, voice dripping with performative surprise. "Now let's just get this shit over with. This morning sucks enough already."

Sawyer Sawyer took a few minutes to gather himself before he returned with the space blanket, eyes rimmed red and torso covered with the sweatshirt he'd been wearing on the plane. Didn't make much sense for him to hold onto a dirty wife-beater covered in another person's blood...a dead person's blood, at that. This way, he figured, he could at least be comfortable and respectful. "S'got a couple holes in it," he sniffed, unfolding the blanket as he approached, "y'know, from the fire and all, but I figure we can stuff 'em with grass if we really wanna..." His voice trailed off when he spotted JJ, knelt at Warren's side with his hands down his pockets. Even beneath the warm inner lining of his sweatshirt, Sawyer's blood ran cold. "...Seriously? We're fuckin' lootin' him, now?"

Kian Dash, Kian was convinced by now, was just inventing names and facts for the sole purpose of making himself sound smarter, although it was obvious to anyone with ears that the guy was a complete and total prat. And Kian would've pointed this out to him had he not proceeded to shove his stick in the ground and flick dirt everywhere, onto Kian's shoes, his shins, his clothes. Dickhead. "Are you taking the piss right now? You're getting shit everywhere, we'll go a lot faster if we just use our fucking hands."

Liam in all honesty, liam wasn’t paying attention, he was off to the side and trying to keep what very little control he had over his emotions. his eyes kept wandering to group of boys standing over warren but every time he glanced at the boy laying there, he could feel his chest tighten and anxiety bubble up inside him. that’s going to be all of us. we’re all going to die here, he thought to himself as he sat on the ground, hands gripping his hair against his scalp. he tried to think back to the last thing he said to his siblings, probably something dumb like don’t touch my things or don’t go in my room. now he wished he had told them he loved them one last time. just as he was getting sucked into these thoughts, he heard sawyer come back to the group. his head shot up and he wiped his eyes quickly as if it wasn’t already obvious that he had been crying. “they think he might have something useful on him,” he chimed in, as if sawyer couldn’t figure that out on his own, but liam didn’t know what else to say without breaking down completely.

Lukas " Thank you, " Lukas gave a facetious bow when at least Dash seemed impressed with his impression. Arms extended out to the side then straightening up with a grin. If it wasn't for the fact that they then very soon afterwards stopped to dig a literal grave, Lukas could have almost forgotten the body that had been found less than an hour ago. When Kian brought it up, he crinkled his nose a little at the idea of using his hands, or honestly digging the hole at all. But it seemed the suggestion was not for him, but for Dash, who was still holding onto that stick and quickly started making a case for it. A case with a lot of words that kinda just went right over Lukas' head to be honest. However, when the stick launched a collection of dirt into the air (mostly onto Kian), he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. And it was only made funnier when Kian responded in anger with that fucking accent. Hand on his stomach as he tried to subdue it. " Okay, okay– as fuckin' funny as that was, ol' Alfred Pennyworth's got a point, hands will probably be quicker. " That's what she said. But before he gave in to covering himself in dirt completely, he took off his sweater, about to toss it behind him before he paused to offer it out to Dash. " You want it? So you don't fuck with your nice Neil Bar-whatever? " He asked, brows raised. He could not remember that fashion name for the life of him, but he assumed Dash still cared far more about his clothes than Lukas did his own. Then glance to Kian, holding up the front of the remaining two layers he'd slept in. " Got one more layer up for grabs if you want it. " Because even with two of the least threatening of the group, Lukas was still not gonna show his chest. And he'd feel like sort of a dick offering Dash something and not Kian, even if the dude was already covered in dirt.

Sawyer “Useful,” Sawyer echoed after Liam, huffing a dry laugh as he traded his sorrow for anger. As if the dead kid was hiding a secret cellphone or something from them - he barely knew how to use a radio when he was alive. “Why don’t we just strip his clothes while we’re at it? Can even use his fuckin’ sneakers as tinder for the fire. Fuck ‘im. Fuck his folks who might want somethin’ to remember him by.”

Callum Fucking finally. Callum thought it'd take ages for Sawyer to get back. "We got a keepsake to give his parents." Well, he did but Callum didn't care to get into the specifics. What he did care about was what the hell Sawyer and Warren were doing up there last night. "What the hell were you and Warren doing up there last night?" He asked, brows slanted downwards in a frown.

Sawyer His gaze flickered to Callum's shoes before they found his face, jaw working like not going off on the guy who just rubbed Sawyer's nose in shit over someone else's death caused him physical pain. "I told you, we were..." Didn't he tell them? They were drinking. Talking, about what fuck-ups they were and how they ended up at the retreat. At least, that's how he remembered it - brandy always made his memory a little hazy at the edges. "Drinkin'. Some of that fancy cognac he smuggled with him on the plane."

Callum "Drinking?" Callum repeated. "That's it? You were drinking one moment and Warren was taking a swan dive off the cliff the next?" Was that insensitive? Probably. But Callum needed Sawyer to hear how fucking vague that sounded. "I'm trying to get some context for why this fucker would off himself, and all you're gonna tell me is that you two were drinking." He scoffed and shook his head. "What else? Were you talking about anything?"

Sawyer "Nah, we drank in fuckin' silence." Callum's edge, no doubt, was starting to rub off on Sawyer, sharpening his tongue like the blade of a knife. Fuck was he supposed to say? That Warren told him he was gonna jump off a cliff and Sawyer said 'sounds good, man, I'll just leave you to it'? It wasn't that simple. Nothing in life was that fucking simple. "Y'know, I don't know if...it were an accident, or if he did it on purpose, but if I was askin' myself what might'a pushed someone to make a decision like that, I think I'd start with the ones threatenin' to off 'im the night before," he said, tapping his temple.

Liam liam's eyes went between the two boys as things started to heat up, blame being thrown around. as someone who preferred to avoid conflict all together, liam chimed in. "maybe we shouldn't be pointing fingers, yesterday was super fucking stressful but whether this was an accident or if he did it... on purpose," liam had to pause to swallow down the lump in his throat, "we can't be putting that on sawyer."

Callum Callum squared his jaw. He thought back to the last thing he'd said to Warren. You fucking idiot! That was our only chance! The last thing he could remember anyway. He walked off to cool his temper before he did something stupid, like break Warren's jaw in three places. Callum just wanted someone to blame, to direct whatever was going on inside of him at someone, and he couldn't very well do that with a dead boy. "Oh, fuck you," Callum shot back. "We may have been pissed with Warren yesterday, but we went back to camp, tired as hell. You think one of us had it in us to hike all the way back up there and throw him off in our state? And you fucking heard Sebastian, it was too dark to fucking seeing anything even if any of us did wake up so there's no way it could have been one of us, and all the more reason it could have been you." That was a little out of left field but Callum was angry and it was all he had. "You're telling me you weren't pissed off with Warren? Who's to say you didn't get drunk, start spouting horrible shit to fuck with him, and that sent him over? Or maybe you just pushed him off yourself, fuckin' criminal," he spat venomously.

Sawyer So, admittedly, the laugh that escaped Sawyer the second ol' fuckin' Dudley Do-Right accused him of second-degree murder didn't exactly help his defense, but sue him. He couldn't help it. Back in Conrad, he'd been called all sorts of nasty things to his face - from felon to fairy - so he wasn't too miffed by having his criminal record thrown back in his face like a handful of sand. What did unnerve Sawyer was the implication that he was a violent drunk, the kind of person who yelled and raged and hurt people after a few drinks. After a fucking nightcap, at that. "Pushed 'im?" He said, each word dripping with disbelief-tinged mania. "Pushed 'im? You think this is a fuckin' Tarantino movie? Is that it? Are y'all so goddamned sheltered in Moose Nut, Canada that everyone with a parkin' ticket looks like cold-blooded killer?"

Callum "Yeah, pushed him," Callum echoed derisively, stepping forward. He wanted to rile Sawyer up to see what he was capable of. A hand of his balled into a fist at his side. He couldn't tell what part of the Hick's comeback irritated him more but the dig at his home country definitely didn't sit right with him. All Callum knew was that he had to get his hands on Sawyer so that's what he did. Crossing over, he held his hands out and shoved the boy. "Yeah, pushed him. Like that."

Liam tension between callum and sawyer escalated, and liam felt like his protests were futile as they got into each other's faces. fuck, where the hell is lukas and the others? he thought to himself. he watched as callum pushed sawyer and liam shot up, trying to push his way in between the two of them but considering they both towered over him, they could easily push him aside. "guys, seriously, this isn't helping anything, just stop," he said, raising his voice at them.

Sawyer They hardly needed Liam’s intervention to put any distance between them; Callum was strong enough to send Sawyer stumbling backward with a shove. Like that, Sawyer was in the mess hall at juvie again, getting pulled into fights with the rougher guys because they were bored and he was an easy target, big bark and little bite. And when Callum pushed him, he wanted to push him back. Worse, even—he wanted to punch him in the fucking throat. “Yeah, Pretty Boy,” said Sawyer, grinning ear-to-ear over Liam’s head, “would be a shame for you break a nail fightin’ the criminal.”

Sebastian Sebastian was getting tired of people pointing fingers in his direction when he had just as much reason to suspect any of them of foul play. He'd been asleep on the beach for most of the night, he'd already said as much so why did it still keep coming back to the argument he'd had with Warren a whole day ago? "Unless you're saying you were so blacked, you wouldn't have noticed one of us coming up on the cliff, you wouldn't have heard a struggle and you wouldn't have heard him screaming as he fell- and if you're happy to go ahead with that summation, you'll also have to accept that you were too blacked to remember what the fuck you said to him or what he said to you or what happened after that. You could have been messing around, accidentally tripped him over- or you coulda been mad about the radio, pushed him," he insisted, "Alcohol changes people- I don't know what kind of drunk you are, do you? I'd make sure your name is clear before you start throwing anybody else's on the table, huh?"

Sawyer Sawyer did not have “get gaslit into thinking you might’ve committed a murder while drunk” on his vacation bingo card, but neither did he have “become stranded on a desert island,” so he supposed he still had a thing or two to learn from the local senior living home. The spark in his stomach fizzled out with the last of Sebastian’s cold analysis, a flame touched, expression falling from a manic grin to a hollow, tight-jawed stare. People could say what they wanted about him: that he was a hick, a petty criminal, a burnout with no fucking future. But Sawyer had never laid his hands on another person—not on anyone who hadn’t laid theirs on him, first—and he’d never used his buzz to put out someone else’s. “Fuck you,” he said, voice wavering. “You don’t know jack shit about me.”

Joe Joe couldn't believe they were having the most stressful game of Cludeo ever over Warren's fresh corpse. Where the fuck were Pinky and The Brain and Kian ? Maybe the others would see sense and realise that accusing an innocent guy of murder wasn't going to fix anything once their focus was on burying Warren's body. "Everybody simmer down.",Joe moved to Callum's side. Somebody had to be there in case the situation escalated beyond shoving and Thumbelina wasn't going to be much use. Bless Liam for trying but with his mild manner and short stature compared to the other boys he could easily be ignored."Baseless murder accusations aren't going to fix anything. We don't have any reason to believe Sawyer murdered Warren, there's only circumstantial evidence. Couldn't Warren have just fallen because he was hammered?"

Blue he wasnt proud of it, but blue could not see the boys without picturing their fates the same as Warren's, and he slipped out to go yell at the water, and write dirty words in the sand just to watch the water take them back, it might have been an odd grieving process but it was his, and as he returned to the group, the air was so tense he, he instinctly reaching his pocket for his phone to see 204 unread messages and feel the dread. but there wasn't anything there, the dread wasn't contained to the tiny electric box, it pumped through the mob's veins and they breathed it back into the air. he looked to each one, lingering a but before speaking it. "hey boys, the fucks all this?" his tone sounded fatherly, concerned but orderly, and he got the chilly feeling that warrens blood wasn't the only time theyd see the red stuff tonight.

Kian Alfred Whomst? Kian opened his mouth to make a quick retort, but was beat to the chase when Lukas offered him his...shirt? It read you're too close in bold, angry red letters, which just about summed up how Kian felt about the two boys he'd made the terrible decision to come grave-digging with. "Fuck's sake," he muttered, looking off into the jungle for a few silent moments as he contemplated his life choices. "Just...give it here, then."

Lukas Stupid grin spread on Lukas' features when Kian, albeit begrudgingly, accepted offer of a protective t-shirt. Pulling it off, he made sure to grab the white long sleeve underneath so it didn't lift up as he removed the top layer. Removal successful he held it out across the drawn rectangle for him. Pushing his own sleeves up to his elbows once hands were empty and announcing " Let's get to it then, " kneeling down on the ground and starting to dig. " Before the Dick Twins get over here and try and find something else to be assholes about. "

Dash The only thing that truly kept Dash from laughing aloud at the way Kian’s voice went high and warbly in his Peppa Pig accent was the fact that the hole they were all bitching about would soon occupy an actual human body. But even that just kept it at bay. When Lukas agreed with Kian, he snorted—the proffered sweater going a long way in quickly smoothing down any ruffled feathers. Dash pressed his lips together, but felt the fight slowly leave him when he suddenly just felt tired. He couldn’t sworn he slept the whole night, but he definitely didn’t feel it. He sighed heavily, stretching his arms out and letting the stick fall by his side. Dash had every intention of bringing it back to camp, regardless of whether or not it had any other use than as a makeshift shovel. “This is not a concession,” he started, and gently pulled his own sweater over his head and folded it neatly to place on the ground. He only had a white t-shirt on underneath but even that was Tom Ford, so he didn’t hesitate to take Lukas’ offer a moment longer. “This? It’s an act of benevolence.” His voice went slightly muffled for a moment as Lukas’ Thrasher sweatshirt went over his head. “We’ve spent more time arguing than getting this shit done, so I’ll throw you a bone here.” With a grimace, and a silent miserable thought about his pants, he got down next to Lukas and dug.

Kian Lukas's shirt was smaller and tighter than the baggy one Kian had on underneath, causing the sleeves to pillow out at his elbows like some kind of weird pirate tunic. He exhaled sharply through his nose. Fuck. This. Properly incensed, Kian knelt across from the Americans and began to claw his way through the dirt. Unlike Dash, however, he at least made sure not to kick it up everywhere. "Would you stop calling them that?" He huffed. "The last thing I want to think about is Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit stomping around camp with their pricks out."

Lukas Lukas wondered if Kian saw the irony in him grumbling out some complaint about his hilarious joke the second after Dash had said they'd spent too much time arguing already. " You knew exactly who I was talkin' about though, and it only took two seconds to say, " he defended as he dug. Defending the phrase for no reason other than he didn't want to talk about the fact that a dead body would be heading towards them any minute now. And god forbid they fall into silence and he just had to think about the dead body again. He's stomach churned just a fraction, so he quickly continued. " Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit is good, but could be anyone, " for example, it could have very easily been used to identify Lukas and Dash.

Kian "Bert and Ernie, then. Literally anyone else." Kian had hardly even made a dent in the ground before his nails were caked with dirt, and if he hadn't spent the better half of his childhood digging through the mud for bugs to show Clarke, he would have been disgusted at the state of them. God, let there be a freshwater lake in the wilderness for him to wash off in. "Besides," he said, wiping hair out of his face with the back of his sleeve, "I think they're the sort to be flattered that you think about them naked so often."

Dash Dash let a low whistle as he tossed a pebble over his shoulder. He didn’t think flattered would actually be the appropriate word for how those two would feel if they knew Lukas had mentioned their names in relation to dicks. “I think the word you’re looking for is disgusted, actually. Or, uh. Vein-throbbingly violent? Like, on the edge of going full-on berserk.” He scooped out another handful of dirt and already felt exhausted by the whole endeavor. Dash reminded himself that they were doing this for what was a good cause and it’d be fucked up if he sat back now. “Gay bash-y, definitely, but whatever.” He gritted his teeth as he came across another root. Fuckin’ weak ass trees and their weak ass roots. Some of the ones back home were similar, always getting blown to shit by every passing hurricane. He stood enough just to bring his heel down hard enough to snap it. “Wait, just to confirm, we’re in agreement that Lord Humungus took the kill shot, right?” he asked Lukas.

Lukas Lukas didn't know where the fuck Kian had got the idea that Gigantor and his Mini Me would be flattered that Lukas was talking about them in such a fashion, but he definitely disagreed. Thankfully, Dash quickly put his thoughts into words. " Yeah, that's more the vibe I'm getting, for sure. " Lukas agreed, eyes staying down on his hands as he dug for a moment. Just get this fucking over with, get Warren in the ground and then they could move on. Eyes lifted when Dash spoke again, meeting his and for the second time today having to disagree with him. " I think he totally could have. You know, definitely had motive and means down, " Start with agreement, wasn't that a debate thing? He didn't fucking know, he wasn't a debate weeb. " But opportunity? " He sucked his teeth, eyes back to the ground as he continued making work on the grave. " Unless he turns into a fucking werewolf at night, there's no way he would've been able to make his way up there in the middle of the night. It was dark as fuck. " Okay maybe there were a couple of ways, but Lukas wasn't sold. " So, like, maybe he did it, I dunno. But what are we supposed to do about it? "

Kian Lord Humungus? Did he mean Sebastian? "Think he's just upset he didn't push him off himself when he had the chance," said Kian. Because Lukas had a point (as much as it pained him to admit), it was way too fucking dark for Sebastian to be able to get up, hike all the way up that cliff to murder Warren, and slink back before sunrise without anyone noticing. All signs pointed to Warren's death being an accident - a shit, unfortunate fucking accident. Kian picked a worm out of the shallow hole he'd created and flung it into the grass. "I'm not taking my chances with him, though. You saw the way he choked Switzerland out - he's definitely out for blood."

Dash "Involuntary manslaughter, then." If that's what it even was called. "Lack of oxygen gave him a big brain booboo which lead to the guy seizing like a motherfucker. Bumble balled it right over the ledge.” Dash raised his eyebrows like, huh? How about that? But what could they even do about that? He didn’t know fuck-all about like, obtaining quote-unquote justice. The whole system was wanky back home, so pulling from real life examples didn't really vibe with him. Plus, there was the whole... they were stuck on an island thing. The best he could come up with was: "Uh. Banish him to the other side of this tropical limbo to go think about what he's done?" He kept digging, and digging, and digging. It couldn't have been a more boring activity, and he wished the other guys would hurry with the body if only so they'd have more hands on deck. Dash tilted his head to the side in lackluster agreement with Kian. Lackluster because he kinda hated to agree with him right then. "For suuuure. I can really respect Warren's kinky side, but that shit's not in my wheelhouse."

Liam clearly, no one was paying attention to anything liam was saying since the giants of the group wanted to keep going back and forth at each other, blue and joe chiming in with a more level headed approach, but liam was already over it. he understood that everything was stressful and the past few days have been a roller coaster, but he couldn't deal with the fact that the others would rather fight with each other than take care of warren's body. he pushed his way out from in between the other boys, "fuck this," he muttered to himself as he walked away from the group. if they weren't going to be helpful, the least he could do was go find the others and see where they are at with digging. he took one last glance at warren, which was probably a mistake because the second he did, he felt the familiar tightening in his chest again. looking away quickly, liam started the walk to the others and hoped he wouldn't get lost in the process. though, being lost in the jungle was starting to seem like a better option than being stuck with all the toxic masculinity of the other group. alone and walking, he finally let himself feel everything and didn't stop his tears until he started to hear the three boys talking. he ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath to compos himself before stepping out to make himself known. "uh, how's it going here? do you guys need help?"

Lukas Lukas made a small chyeah sound with an accompanying chuckle when Dash suggested involuntary manslaughter. Even though it appeared he had more experience with the justice system than these two, specifically in a case of involuntary manslaughter, he didn't think they could prove such a thing. Even with the, what? 14 witnesses? 13 now he supposed. They couldn't even convince one another, how could they convince a court of people who hadn't even been there. He kept digging. " What, like Survivor? " He asked when Dash suggested banishing Sebastian. " Even if he didn't kill Warren I wouldn't be against sending him the fuck away just so I didn't have to see him stand around and brood all fucking day. " Though part of him wanted Sebastian to stay close, so they could see when the eventual murderous rampage was coming on. He's about to tack on some crude joke about Warren getting choked out to what Kian and Dash were saying but that's when he hears a voice behind him. Head turning to look and stupid smile widening on his features. " Yo! " Same shirt! Lukas thought again, even though Dash was currently wearing his Thrasher sweater. " Yeah, for sure, get in here. " He tilted his head back to the grave, resuming his digging while Liam pulled up a spot. " So, the fuck were the others up to that you decided digging a grave was the better option? " He asked, chuckle falling from his lips at the very circumstances. Even if this was definitely the better group of people, by Lukas' definition, Liam had stayed with the others a while before joining them, Lukas figured something must have been happening.

Liam liam tried to muster up as much of genuine smile as he could despite the fact that his had just spent a better part of his walk over crying. he looked between the three boys, noting the progress they achieved in the amount of time it took the other group to do literally nothing but fight and point fingers. with a nod, he walked over to them, getting on his knees at the edge of where they were digging and started to help. he let out a broken laugh when lukas asked what was going on, he couldn't even hold it in because the whole situation seemed ridiculous. "they're fucking not doing shit. jj's, like, looting his shit because he's not going to need it. which fair, but he just went straight to it. everyone's pointing fingers. and sawyer got the emergency blanket but as soon he came back, him and the one tall roid head started going at each other because apparently sawyer and warren were drinking last night and they think it's his fault. then fucking gigantor came in and amped everything up." liam realized he was probably talking pretty fast and agitated and he rambled, so he paused and took a second to catch his breath. "i just- i needed to get out of there. none of them would listen to me."

Kian "Fuck's sake," Kian said for the second time in the span of ten minutes, pushing his momentary annoyance at yet another member joining their group aside to express his utter exasperation at the sheer dickheadness of the dickheads on this island. JJ being a weirdo didn't shock him; nor did Thing 1 and Thing 2 using someone's death to be complete pricks to everyone around them. "What did I tell you? Out for blood."

Dash Dash looked over his shoulder when he heard a new voice, and his brow furrowed. Liam looked a helluva lot like a guy who had just been crying, and Dash could vaguely recall him getting a little choked up when he had still been loitering around Warren’s body. Clearly he was taking this hard. The threat of a big-d Death was annoying and years-long over the course of his life, so he could forget that someone's shit could get really rocked by the whole thing if they had never lived like that. “You good, dude?” he asked, only a little awkward in execution. Being on the receiving end of a barrage of friendly check-ins didn't really make him any better at extending them. As Liam recounted what was up on the beach, Dash rolled his eyes. Day Three of hanging around these reprobates and he already wasn't shocked by some of their behaviors. JJ looting a body? Bit fucked, but not totally out of left field. He was sure the guy still had multitudes of weirdness to expose though. "Okay, cringe. But, uh, did they find anything?" he had to ask, still a little curious if he was right about the nipple piercing thing. Kian’s out for blood comment spurred him to continue: “And is anyone bleeding yet? Someone should probably them it’s kinda tacky to duke it out in front of a dead body.” Warren’s body. Dash grimaced, and went back to digging.

Callum Callum huffed grumpily when Joe came by his side and diffused the situation. "All the stories Warren tells about taking champagne up his ass and having to swim in whiskey before he feels anything, you think a fucking flask got him hammered? That's a joke." He stayed glaring at Sawyer. Then Blue came into the picture. "Something is up and this criminal's just too good at hiding it." Callum couldn't help but take another dig at Sawyer.

Sawyer Sawyer should’ve taken comfort in the fact that the other boys, some of whom he’d barely even spoken to, were willing to stick their necks out for him. He should’ve heeded Liam’s advice, walked away when he had the opportunity to do so with his hands clean. There were a lot of things in life he should’ve, could’ve, would’ve done if he were a better man. But there was something in Callum’s tone—an undercurrent, heat simmering beneath the surface of his icy demeanor—that made him see red. Who gave him the right to speak about somebody like that? He didn’t know Sawyer. None of these assholes knew any more about him than he did of them. His limbs moved of their own accord before his head even had time to process what was happening, tackling Callum to the floor of the impacted sand, arm reeling back and fist connecting with his smug fucking face—once, twice, until his knuckles began to split. “Fuck you,” he spat. “Fuck you—”

Sebastian Sebastian couldn't deny that Callum had made a good point about Warren's alcohol tolerance. The kid seemed to actually be more efficient with a little booze in his system than he was without- so how were they supposed to believed he'd managed to get so plastered the night before that he'd toppled off of a cliff all by himself? Something wasn't adding up and Sawyer's increasing irritation was only adding to fuel to the conspiracy fire. "Whoa- hey!" Sebastian called out impulsively as Sawyer leapt at Callum, tackling him into the ground and taking one manic swipe at him after the other. On instinct, he crashed into Sawyer's back, throwing his arms under Sawyer's and pinning them back as he dragged the other boy, rather clumsily, to a standing (ish) position, away from Callum. "Come on, come on, come on," he insisted, for a lack of anything more profound or meaningful to say to either boy. "Bro, somebody fuckin' check on him," he instructed anybody that was listening to aid Callum after the spontaneous beating. "You gonna cool off man?" he asked sawyer, using all his strength to keep his arms in a submissive position with his arms locked between Sebastian's. "-Or we can go for a walk, you gotta choice here," he insisted, giving Sawyer at least some sense of control in an otherwise out of control situation.

Callum "Umpf—!" One second, Callum was throwing Sawyer a dirty look that could piss off a pacifist monk and the next, he was on the ground getting his face rearranged. He should have probably seen this coming with the way he was running his mouth. For a moment, the embarrassment of being put down was worse than the pain of actually getting his face pummeled. Callum was just barely catching up, getting his hands on Sawyer's arms when he felt the boy's weight be pulled off of him entirely. Then he heard Sebastian's voice. Thank fuck, he thought. Relief washing over him for only a moment before the pain set in. "Fucking prison rat..." He muttered, turning his head and spitting out some of the blood in his mouth. "I'm fine," he insisted, swatting a hand before any of the other boys could do something like rush to his aid. He wasn't some pussy, he could get up just fine. Or so he thought when he attempted to sit up and a sharp pain shooting up his back reminded him he was still very much recovering from an unfair bar fight. "Fuck," he grunted, sucking in a sharp breath in an attempt to contain his reaction to the pain.

Sawyer Sawyer could do little more than let out a pained yelp as his arms were wrenched behind his back—Sebastian had all the strength of a corrections officer and less than half of the patience, pulling Sawyer to his feet before he could get a final blow in. “Don’t—fuckin’—touch me!” He tried, in vain, to weasel his way out of the other boy’s firm grip. Fuck him. Fuck Callum. Fuck Warren for dying, fuck the pilot for crashing, fuck his parole officer for sending him on this retreat and fuck him, fuck Sawyer for thinking he could better himself, that you could add bells and whistles to a broken-down car and expect it to get anywhere good. “You wanna talk about me?!” He yelled, eyes stinging hot with tears again. But this time, he wasn’t crying out of guilt or sorrow—rather, the frustration at his inability to control his situation, or anything, had nowhere left to go but out of him. “Huh?! You wanna talk about what kinda drunk I am?! You’re not even good fuckin’ people sober!”

Callum "And what makes you think you are?!" Callum shot back from where he was twisted uncomfortably on his side. "Fuckin', Mr. Criminal Record!" With his back fucked, Callum was all bark and no bite right now. "Take a fucking hike, convict," he spat from where he was on the ground. "We'll carry Warren ourselves. Don't you need you hijacking his ring and that stupid fucking chain around his neck for some spare change and a place to live."

Sawyer The next thing Sawyer did, he wasn’t too proud of (he wasn’t very proud of pummeling Callum to the ground, either, but in the heat of the moment it felt more than deserved). If these guys wanted to assume the worst of him, though, he’d give ‘em a better fucking reason to. He mustered up the last of his resolution to spit at Callum’s immobile form, hoping, childishly, that he felt the touch of cold saliva on his skin, that he felt every bit as tainted by Sawyer’s indecency as Sawyer did. What little dredges of fuck he had left to give died on his fists the moment they made impact with Callum’s face. With a full-bodily jerk, he managed to free himself from Sebastian’s grasp at last, holding his middle fingers up at Callum as he took a few steps backward before he turned his back to the group. He wasn’t hiking back to the camp or the jungle, but to the furthest corners of the beach, where he could melt into the shoreline and imagine himself turning into sea-foam—swept away, all at once, by the tide.

Callum Spitting on him? Really? Callum scoffed and shook his head. Then he watched Sawyer's retreating figure. "Yeah, walk away, convict. We don't need you," he called out. A final nail in the coffin if Sawyer didn't hate him enough already. He brushed his hand against his pants where Sawyer's spit landed, making a face at the wetness that now covered his palm. Gross, he thought. When he figured the boy was far enough, Callum decided it was high time for him to get up and move too. "Can someone give me a hand?" He asked grumpily, after having attempted to get up himself; though he couldn't quite do it without assistance. "And let's get Warren out of here already."

Lukas Lukas couldn't help but grimace as Liam told the three of them what had happened in their absence. Yeah, no, definitely the superior group right here, he thought. Looting, yelling, and pointing fingers at each other. He was only a tiny bit upset to be missing it all. He nodded in agreement at Kian's point. " Dude, they're so fucked, " he commented, pulling more dirt out of the hole. However, he did also kinda want the answers to Dash's questions so he looked to Liam expectantly, waiting an answer. Then Lukas thinks he hears something. Not sure what he looked over his shoulder again with furrowed brow. " Y'all hear that? " he asked the group, his gaze remaining behind him for a second longer. Sounded like yelling, but it was just too far away for Lukas to put any more effort into finding out what it was. As he looked back to the hole, soon to be grave, he was pretty fucking impressed with their efforts. Someone had to be. " That's probably deep enough, right? Looks about two foot, bit over. "

Joe This had to be some kind of divine punishment. There was no way he would be stuck on a desert island with wankers that couldn't go a full day without getting into a punch up if he wasn't tainted in some way. As tempting as it was to leave Callum on the floor Joe knew had to be a bigger person and make some kind of contribution ,he didn't get Sawyer off of Callum and he did a shit job at including Liam. He would have to apologise to Liam later but in that moment his main focus was grabbing Callum's hand and dragging him off the ground. "Oh yeah, yous are going to have to stop being pricks for a second because we need to move Warren. Is there a technique to moving bodies?"

Callum Callum let himself be pulled up by Joe, offering a short grunt of 'thanks' in appreciation once he was back on his feet. He dusted himself off, scoffed a little at being referred to as a prick, and answered Joe's query. "Not that I know of. But we got the blanket–" Thanks to Sawyer, who he did not care to credit or mention even if there was a gun to his head. "–we'll lay Warren on there, and there's..." He counted whoever remained. Him, Sebastian, Joe, and Blue. Perfect. "Four of us. So each take a corner and just carry him like that I guess." He shrugged. Heavy lifting wasn't a great idea with his back all knotted up and achy like it was right now but Callum figured with three other guys helping carry the load, it shouldn't be too bad. He walked over to the lower half of Warren's body and grabbed his ankles. "Someone get the top half of this kid please. And the rest just like, hold the blanket down flat, hands on the corners."

Blue blue told himself that it was like carrying an injured teammate, you'll pull your brother up, move him off the ice, the nurses patch him up, or that one time when he had to visit beau at the hospital...but he needed that visualization to make it through this strange night. as he placed the blanket down with the others, and then took a step back, all of that went away and the darkness all around enveloped him. "does anyone know the song from sound of music? the sad one?"

Kian It was easy to block out the events of that morning when you had nothing to do but dig and dig until your arms ached. Moving meant you had less time to think, and the less time you had to think, the less time you had to feel. Mostly, Kian just felt numb...and like, he couldn't figure out whether that made him a shit person or not. That he could look at a dead body and feel nothing but a sense of disgust and dread, like if he stared for too long, the clutches of death would reach out and grab him by the wrist. Scary shit. He scoffed at Lukas's remarks, blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes. "Two feet's not deep enough. It has to be a meter, so, like...three." God. Fuck the Yanks and their stupid measurement system. "You can go tell the others to hurry the fuck up if you want, though."

Lukas Personally, if Lukas was wearing someone else's shirt to prevent dirt getting on him, he probably wouldn't be such a dick to them. Well– he probably would but that didn't stop him from being offended when Kian had a go at him. " I said two and a bit, didn't I? " he rebutted, begrudgingly returning to digging. " And you've gotta give the metres thing up, you're clearly fuckin' outnumbered here. " He cast a glance to Dash and Liam as if to say, right guys? As for going back to the others, however, he shook his head adamantly " No fucking way, I'll fuckin' puke, " again. You would fucking puke again, Lukas. " You can go tell them if you want though, " he offered back to Kian, being completely facetious. He didn't think there was any way any of them were volunteering to go back and tell the others what to do. " Tell them all about how we've got a metre " he poorly mimicked the other's accent for that word and that word alone, " deep hole here and they need to hurry up, you and Warren would look good with matching hickeys. "

Liam liam looked to dash when he asked if he was okay, and again he tried to put on a brave face and pretend like everything was okay. "yeah, i'm good," he said despite being the opposite. liam has never experienced death before, not even a pet. even if they hadn't known warren long and he was pretty annoying, it still made reality hit him hard. "i don't know if they found anything good, i wasn't really paying attention," i was trying to not cry in front of everyone he finished in his head. but then kian seemed annoyed by how deep they should go and lukas teasing him about meters. liam just looked up at the others and shrugged. he didn't see what the big deal was. "they probably wont even listen to you," he mumbled. "they didn't listen to me. they're too busy seeing who's dick is bigger by ganging up on sawyer." he just hoped they were done being dicks long enough to actually get to moving warren over here.

Kian If Lukas's hastiness didn't tick him off, that piss-poor imitation of his accent certainly did. He did not sound like that - Kian could pronounce his r's just fine, thank you very much. With a saccharine-sweet smile, he took the next fistful of damp soil from the ground and flicked it in Lukas's direction. "There. Now it's two and some more." Prick. Liam was much more tolerable than the other two prats, if only for the fact that he seldom talked and always looked like he was on the verge of tears. No wonder he couldn't stick it out with the meatheads, Kian thought. "The one from jail? Why're they ganging up on him?"

Liam he grimaced at the comment. the one from jail. everyone was so focused on the fact that sawyer had been to jail, he wondered what all of the others would think if they knew he had a record too. sure, his was probably much less than sawyers, but they really didn't know anything about each other. "yeah, him. because he was the last to see warren alive and i guess they were drinking last night. they think he got drunk and killed him or something." saying it out loud sounded so ridiculous. even if they didn't know each other well, he couldn't see sawyer doing it. after all, sebastian was the one who choked the dude out.

Lukas He's late to see the handful of dirt flying at him but still he tries to bat it away, leaning back as he did. As if that would help. Looking down at the mess, he couldn't help but snort another chuckle again. How fucking stupid was this whole situation. He thought as he returned to digging. He glanced to Liam as he spoke, but then he laughed again when he revealed the others had been pointing at Sawyer as the cause of Warren's death. " You're joking, Sawyer? Seriously? " He chuckled, giving it a moment to gage that Liam was in fact serious. While Kian was pretty keen to keep bringing up Sawyer's record, Lukas wondered if he was the only one who remembered the cowboy had admitted it was for auto theft. Plus, if a criminal record was all you needed to be a murderer then well shit, guess him and Liam were on their way to the janky island electric chair too. " That's fucked. " He shook his head, still amused but at least a fraction more somber about it now. " There's no way they actually think that, they're just tryna shift the blame 'cause they know they're the most fucking suspect. "

Kian For the first time, Kian and Lukas were on the same wavelength; he couldn't help but let out an ugly guffaw when Liam revealed that some of them were now accusing others of murder. Yeah, no. Sawyer was way too friendly to kill someone - and not in a, like, American Psycho way, but in a weird uncle who drinks too much and mistakes you for your sister way. Believe him, Kian sat across from the guy on the plane. He knew a person who spiked their drinks in secret when he saw one. "And besides, Warren was dumb enough to nearly fall off a cliff without alcohol. What makes them think he didn't just take a long walk off a short ledge when he was trying to piss or something?"

Liam "that's what i thought too," liam chimed in. warren didn't seem like the brightest person sober, nearly walking off the cliff just hours before. "i think they're all so focused on making sure they don't look guilty that they're trying to put the blame on someone else. but i think we all know that if anyone did anything, there are far more convincing people than sawyer."

Kian "Like that JJ fucker," said Kian, eyes going wide. "Swear, I haven't seen him so much as smile since we got here. I think he's a proper psychopath."

Dash Dash didn’t really believe Liam’s ‘I’m good’ and made a mental note to check in on the little dude later. He might not be a total help to him, of course, but it made Dash at least feel like he had something to fill his day after this hellish morning instead of staring vacantly at the ocean. Drops of sweat gathered on his brow from exertion as he listened the other guys contemplate who to point fingers at. "You know where I stand on this whole thing, man,” he said. “Chokey time, brain damage, mouth frothing and a one-way ticket cliffside — ipso facto: Gigantor’s fault.” Dash wiped the moisture away with the back of his hand, and tiredly thought that maybe he should’ve taken his aunt up on the repeated offer to join her at her godforsaken, soul-sucking cycling class. He stood to inspect their work—the boundary of the hole came up to his thigh-ish, edging toward his hip—and stamped down a boot to flatten the earth beneath his foot. “Jesus...” he spoke under his breath, then continued aloud, “Is this finally a fuckin' meter or what?"

Kian Kian sat back on his haunches, heaving a sigh. Grave-digging was no easy task on its own, but having a sweaty mop on your head and a boa constrictor wrapped around your chest put it on equal footing with, like, running laps. Or building pyramids with tree branches. "Proper fuckin' meter," he said, ricocheting right off of Pink Floyd, "where the fuck are the pallbearers?"

Callum Callum made a face at Blue. "The fuck. No?" He shook his head. "Can we just focus on getting Warren out of here?" He asked, his patience thinning quickly with his back pain. Once everyone was in position and Warren was safely wrapped in the emergency blanket, the boys hauled him off, proceeding across the beach until they came across the boys responsible for digging Warren's grave. "Yo, you guys done?" Callum asked when he was close enough to be heard by the other boys. They looked like they've been busy digging so Callum hoped they were, and didn't just spend all this time fucking around.

Dash It was like Kian’s pure pissiness summoned the ‘pallbearers’. Dash looked up from where he watched a shiny beetle scuttle around his boot and was met with a real one-two of shitty and honestly fairly gratifying images. One being Warren’s body, wrapped up like a shoddy mummy—that was horseshit—and the second the pretty black eye developing on Callum’s face. Dash was a pacifist by nature but it was still a refreshing look, if you asked him. He let out a low whistle and leaned back against the edge of the hole, letting his hands rest palms down against the grass. “Wow. Sweet shiner.” He shook his head as he turned to hoist himself out of the grave. “Gotta say, babe. You’ve never looked better,” he wisecracked, a grin started to itch at the corner of his mouth until he looked back from where he came. An empty hole. For Warren. What a way to spend a vacation. He cleared his throat and shrugged both shoulders. “So, uh. Guess you guys just lower him in then,” he continued, gesturing toward their work.

Kian Yo yOu gUys DoNe? As if Moose Knuckle and the park rangers hadn't just taken ages to wrap a body in a blanket and carry it not half a kilometre into the jungle. Kian had a quip ready to go, a right hearty fuck off, but the second he turned around to open his mouth, he lost his shit. Seeing one of the Winklevoss Twins with a bruised eye nearly made up for the corpse within arm's length of his face. "Has he risen from the dead to punch you in the face?" He asked, scuttling out of the way so they could lower Warren's body into the hole. "I miss the fucker, already."

Liam liam’s whole body tensed up when he heard the unmistakable sound of callum’s voice. but at least that meant they were finally done and they could put this whole awful day behind them. getting up from his spot by the hole, liam turned around just as the other boys started commenting on his black eye. clearly the arguing turned physical after liam left, which really didn’t surprise him. but rather than bring attention to himself, he just moved out of the way so the others could move warren’s body into the hole.

Callum Callum swore if he wasn't helping carry a dead body right now, these fuckers — Dash and Kian — would be in the grave along with Warren too. Ignoring the heat he felt in his cheeks when he was cheekily referred to as 'babe', Callum merely scoffed and shot a measly "fuck off" at the two boys with comments. "Let's go," he urged the boys helping him with Warren's body, shuffling forward to position the corpse directly above the hole so it could be a smooth descent. "Ready? Bring him down slowly." It was easier to pretend this was his summer job doing construction work, and not burying some guy they survived a plane crash with. Nice and steady, Warren was lowered and just like that, the boy was laid down in his temporary resting place. Callum blew out a breath once he was standing at full height again. "Fuck..." He didn't expect it to be difficult to look at the grave with the blanket-wrapped body in there. "Guess we just... cover him up?" It felt strange to discuss. He wondered then how Dash, Kian and Lukas felt digging up this hole knowing what it was for.

Dash Dash watched the way Callum’s face heated with fascination, as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek—one part confused to two parts jazzed about the power he must’ve had to elicit a reaction like that. He badly wanted to say something, to make a joke about how there must’ve been a heart beating there in his chest all long ‘cause his pink cheeks proved it. But he swallowed it down, the words like bile at the back of his throat. It seemed his body would only allow one joke in the presence of an actual burial, which kind of sucked really because without that there was nothing much to do but look at the lump that was once Warren get lowered into the ground. Dash thought about the last time he was at a funeral—and the shower of roses that were placed on the casket before it too was buried beneath pounds of dirt—and glanced around until he saw a flower. “Wait a sec.” It had five large pink petals, and looked like it’d work well enough. He plucked it, then looked over at the other guys. “I dunno, like a fuckin’ — show of respect or something,” he defended himself. “To make up for that Viking burial thing.” He tossed the flower down the hatch. It fluttered, then fell near Warren’s feet. Close enough. “Alright, dirt time,” he said, but still waited for someone else to make the first move.

Kian Kian watched the flower fall to Warren’s feet with little fanfare. That was shit, he wanted to say, but for once, he held his tongue. This was an actual, real thing they were doing; no going back now. Dash’s words hung in silence for eons before Kian began to shove dirt into the hole with his foot, covering up what he assumed—and hoped—was Warren’s face, first. “Where’s Sawyer gone? Thought he’d wanna...pay his respects or whatever.”

Callum "He's off being a pissy little bitch," Callum muttered as he pushed some sand into Warren's grave with the side of his foot. He knew it would be far more useful to go on his knees and shovel dirt in with his hands but he couldn't be fucked to hurt his back even more.

Dash Dash bent to pick up his abandoned stick. He used the flat end to knock dirt onto Warren’s body — it gave him something to do and saved his boots from more damage: two birds, one stone. “Lemme guess,” he started, angling the stick only enough to point in Callum’s general direction. He placed a fingertip under his right eye and tugged down for emphasis. “He responsible for that?”

Callum "Oh fuck off, Troll Doll." Though with his tiredness (and slight guilt), the insult didn't quite have the bite Callum wanted it to have. "It's not my fault the Prison Rat can't take the heat. If he wasn't guilty of anything in the first place, he wouldn't have had trouble sticking around." Callum moved some more sand over the grave with his foot and brought his hands up in a 'it wasn't me' gesture. "S'all I'm saying."

#wilds.thread #wilds.toa

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marmolady · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Pains: Part Three

PART ONE PART TWO

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

Word Count: 5678

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems, Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort, All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove

La Huerta, 2033

The sun slowly began to set, and a cool breeze came in from the sea. The reunion was in full swing, and Taylor, had found her way poolside, the traditional centre of all activity. The energy all around her was wonderfully refreshing after all the time she’d spent hiding herself away from the world; the sounds of the most familiar of voices as her friends caught up with one another, therapeutic. She was far too much of an extrovert to isolate herself; she knew that now.

Sitting down at the bar, it only took a few skilled flourishes of bottles before Raj was handing her a signature drink.

“It’s been a little while since I’ve had one of these,” she laughed. The joys of pregnancy. Worth it, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little relieved it was all over in time for the reunion. “Mm, that’s fruity! And just the right amount of kick to it. I say this every year, but you really do know me.”

“Another happy customer at the BhandarBar? You know there’s nothing I’d rather hear!” Raj beamed. He came around the bar and sat beside Taylor, sensing a need in her. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages-- last time I saw you, you had a baby on board. How has life been treating you, Taylor, my friend?”

“Oh, you know. My whole body gearing up for looking after baby, and then trying to tell it ‘no, that’s not what’s happening, here’; that’s been a bit of a challenge. My mood swings have been epic. I know she already did deserve one, but christ, Estela deserves a medal. Liv as well. I swear I’ve been like a walking hormone or something.”

“Well, if you need someone to lay it all on….”

He didn’t even get to finish. Taylor had her arms around him, hugging him tight. Where the tears were coming from now, she didn’t quite know. Maybe it was just a release of everything she’d been carrying these past months. But come they did, thick and fast.

“That’s it, bro. Let it all out. I’ve got plenty of shirts if you get boogers on this one--”

Taylor spluttered, laughing until she made herself choke and cough. “I don’t even know why I’m crying! That’s just me right now. A little bit useless.” Well, if you talk like that, you’re gonna be sobbing all night.

“You? Never. We have witnesses! You are definitely not useless. You just need a bit of Taylor Time right now. You’re allowed to take some Taylor Time.”

“For how long?” Taylor sighed. “Liv’s only nine-- sorry, nine and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days. That distinction is important to her. But she needs me. My body’s all geared up to be a mom, but with Liv I feel like I just can’t do anything. Some days I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“Trust me. I’ve had those days. You know I’ve had those days. And listening when your mind and body need a rest isn’t a bad thing. If Liv was feeling the way you were, what would you have her do?”

Taylor pouted. “Who told you you could use my double standards to pep talk me? Fine! I’d tell her to be kind to herself. Every time.”

“So. What are you going to do?”

“Be… kind to myself,” Taylor said begrudgingly. Damn you, Raj. I can’t argue with that logic.

“We’re going to home-school Livi. For a year, use that time to reassess where we want to be in life. I’m a little nervous, but… I like that I’m going to be more proactive in her life. I’m glad I had Michael; having him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, but I want to be able to put my energy into Liv, and Estela, our little unit. Mostly, I’m excited. I am so, so ready to feel like a mom again.”

“Aw, Taylor-baby, you always were. But I getcha, sometimes you kind of lose a part of yourself in all that life throws up. And whatever life wants to throw at Liv, you guys got her back. She’s done all right for herself with you two.”

Exhaling, wiping away those stupid tears-- hadn’t she cried enough?-- Taylor nestled into a warm hug. Raj was a talented man, but no more so than in his ability to make everything feel all right. Together, her family had weathered many storms, and their bond would carry them through any still to come.

_____________________________

La Huerta, 2027

A resounding crack of lightning had Liv dive under the blankets, shaking in her Batman pyjamas. To her, it felt as though the storm had been raging for hours. Never had she heard the sky sound so angry. She burrowed under her Mama Estela’s arm.

“Mommy, it’s so loud,” she whimpered.

“I know, mija,” Estela said gently, stroking her four-year-old daughter’s hair. “But it can’t hurt us in here. Our house is strong and safe.”

The creaking of wood in the wind made Liv nervous. If the house was safe, why did it have to complain so much? Was it trying to scare her?

“It’s okay, Livi-sweetie,” Taylor soothed. “We’re all gonna sit this one out together.”

The family trio were sharing the big queen-size bed, Liv tucked up snuggly between her two mothers. There had been no talk of attempting to settle Liv in her own room; she was distressed, and that meant she could take security in the maternal bed.

As the howling wind became a frightening roar, Liv whined softly. At the foot of the bed, the little dog, Fenix, was sleeping soundly. Fenix didn’t have the best of hearing, which on this occasion struck Liv as quite lucky. The cat, Madam Mierdita, seemed more grumpy at the disturbance than frightened, growling and changing colours with every scary rumble.

“Hey, Liv,” Taylor said cheerily, hoping her easy tone would lessen the tension, “Knock, knock!”

Liv peered over the covers. Was now really the time? She’d humour her silly Mama Taylor. “Who’s there?”

“Europe.”

“Europe, who?” Liv asked, then her eyes went wide and she gave a shout of laughter. “Ha! You’re a poo, Mama Taylor!”

“No, you’re a poo!” Taylor chuckled. Saved, once again, by some good old fashioned toilet humour.

Estela rolled her eyes and shook her head exaggeratedly. “Oh, cariňa, you blow me away with your comedic wit.”

“Yeah!” Liv affirmed enthusiastically, apparently still oblivious to the art of sarcasm. “It was super funny!” She flinched at another crash of lightning, but didn’t hide under the covers.

“Well, my fan club, here comes another one!” Taylor smirked at Estela’s dramatic groaning. If it eased Liv’s fear, they could and would do this for hours. “Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?”

“I dunno, Mommy. W-why?” Liv asked, her voice wavering as a rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very earth. But if the world was ending, it would surely wait to hear the rest of Mama Taylor’s joke first.

“To get to the bottom!”

On queue, Liv squealed with laughter. “You said ‘bottom’!”

“You know, Taylor, I’m sensing a theme here.”

“Hey-- toilet jokes aren’t my favourite, but they’re a solid number two!”

“Dios mío! Why do I feel like I’m in for a long night?” Estela reached to tickle Taylor’s belly, which served to push Liv ever deeper into her giggle fit. She could never adequately express just how grateful she was that their daughter had that gorgeous dork to see her through the scary times. Don’t you ever change, mi amor.

The storm raged on. Cocooned together in their humble sanctuary, the small family saw it out-- or at least, Taylor and Estela did. Liv nodded off amid the thunder and the lightning, the wind and the rain… safe in her mothers’ arms.

_______________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Livi-- be careful!”

“I am careful!” Liv hollered down from a towering palm tree. She had everything under contro--

There was a thud, and the squeak of breath being forced from Liv’s lungs as she hit the ground hard.

“Ow.”

Taylor rushed over, but her view was quickly blocked by young Isla, who had gotten there first.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt, Isla. See?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Can you move all your arms and legs?”

“Yes!”

“On a scale of one to ten--”

Taylor cut in, feeling simultaneously relieved and incredibly fond of her friends’ little nurse in training. “Thanks, Isla, sweetheart. I think we’re good from here. Right?”

Liv scowled and jumped to her feet as if nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Oh, Livita, foiled again by your old friend, gravity?” Estela laughed from her comfortable spot on the beach. She’d seen Liv through enough bumps and scrapes to know when there was nothing to worry about.

Taylor snorted, and ruffled Liv’s short hair. “Gravity’s a bitch. Try and respect her in the future, okay?”

Gravity wasn’t just a bitch. Gravity was Liv’s nemesis. A literal pain in her ass. Someday, Liv had decided, she was going to get a pilot licence like her Uncle Jake. That would teach bloody gravity.

A yell distracted Liv from her plotting.

“Hey, Livia! Livia!” Reggie hollered as he pelted up the beach. “The big tortoise came back! Diego said we can feed him! Quick!”

That got her attention. The past two years, the mighty Shore Guardian had lumbered into their midst during the reunion, and it had been an incredible thrill. In an instant, she was off and running.

“Liv, when I say to be careful…,” Taylor started.

“I know!” she called over her shoulder, “ Actually be careful. But you know I’m not scared of some old Shore Guardian, right?”

The tortoise was colossal. Built like a tank; the peak of his pyramid-like shell reached the height of a man. It had come as an immense relief to everyone when the creature started appearing on La Huerta’s shores, that he was of a docile and placid disposition.

“Helloooo there, Shelly!” Liv called, clambering up and over the rocks, a bunch of glowing flowers in her hand. “I brought you a snack.”

“See,” Diego said from his perch, overlooking the beast, “I told you he’d come back. He’s pretty smart. He must know that the reunion happens every year, and that the reunion means kids bearing flowers. I think you’ve started something, though-- the Vaanti kids are all over this guy when he hangs near Elyys’tel.”

“He’s less scary than the yeti-bear. I like the yeti-bear, but Mom and Mom say I’m still too young to give her a pat. Do you think I should make friends with the Sea Guardian next?”

The Sea Guardian was rarely observed. It was something like a plesiosaur with scales all the colours of the rainbow, and even after more than a decade since Cetus’ demise, it seemed as though the monster was only gettng larger. Sighting the beast was something of a badge of honour for young Vaanti, with the bolder among them daring to touch its back-- some even managing to take loose scales when the beast was shedding. There had only been a few serious injuries over the years, but the practice was largely frowned upon-- especially by those old enough to remember Cetus’ wrath. If there was one thing everyone agreed upon, it was that they did not want another Cetus.

Diego chuckled nervously. “Better stick to old Shelly. He appreciates your friendship.”

“Yeah, Livia, you should look after the friendships you’ve got,” Reggie said, huffing and puffing as he came over the ledge. “It’s not like you’ve got many.”

“Hey!”

“Was I insensitive again?” he asked sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“A little,” Diego said. “Why don’t you come closer and feed Shelly with Liv?”

Reggie eyed the hulking beast. “No… no, I’m fine just watching. A good scientist never interferes with wildlife. You know Jane Goodall used to feed chimps bananas? But that was like… years and years ago. Now we know that is not the best way to science.”

“Whatever, Reggie,” Liv laughed, “but don’t cry to me when I’m Shelly’s best friend.”

Down on the sand, Liv could feel the enormous presence of the giant tortoise as he towered over her, sniffing.

“Good boy, Shelly. You wanna flower?”

Diego watched her, ready to swoop down and pull her to safety if the beast appeared bothered. “Good job, Livi. Nice and slow so you don’t freak him out. Like… like you’re Hiccup and he’s Toothless.”

Liv chuckled, and peered into Shelly’s mouth as it gaped open to take a flower. “I think he is toothless.”

“Yeah, but I bet his hard mouth could break all the bones in your hand!” Reggie piped up.

“Shelly would never,” Diego assured. “He knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.”

The tortoise gave a rumbling grumble of pleasure as he swallowed a flower.

“How have you guys been recently?” Diego probed, keeping it light, but knowing that life had recently been a rough ride for the kids. “I heard Maia moved schools; that kind of sucks. She was pretty great.”

She was pretty pretty, Liv thought, though she kept that to herself. “I’ve been really sad and lonely. But it’s all better now-- we’re all back here! No mean dumbasses. I wish Maia didn’t have to leave though.”

“I decided I don’t like getting in fights,” Reggie said. “I am now officially a pacifist. But… I guess I’ve gotta make exceptions if people are gonna say stuff about my sisters. They’re only little. They can’t stand up for themselves.”

“Better stick to fighting with your words, Reggie,” Liv said with a little smirk. “I have never seen such a weak-ass punch in my life….”

“Hey, I did pretty good!”

“If I hadn’t jumped in, they’d still be mopping you off the floor now,” she laughed.

“Well, maybe I’m better at more important things, like actually using my brain! You should try it sometime.”

“Okay, okay,” Diego intervened. “Easy, kids! You don’t want to freak old Toothless out.”

Liv looked up at Shelly. He was calmly chewing on the last flower she’d offered him, not batting an eyelid at the raised voices.

“Tio Diego,” she murmured. “Can I tell you something? And Reggie-- you can know too.”

“Of course, you can, Liv.”

“Well… it’s kinda… embarrassing. But I know you won’t laugh. Not when it’s important. I like liked Maia. I thought everyone would laugh at me if they found out I had a crush on a girl. I know it’s not something to be ashamed of, but I was still… too scared.”

“You’re telling us now-- that takes a lot of guts,” Diego told her. “It is scary. You never know how people are going to react. Most people are pretty cool these days, but it only takes one mean person to make you feel sad and small.”

Liv climbed back up onto the rocks to sit by her uncle’s side. “Yeah. Some of the kids already teased me about my moms. I thought there would probably be at least one mean person.”

“That’s fair,” Reggie concluded. “I mean, you’re probably right. If they were jerks about Erin, probably they wouldn’t be any nicer to you. They already think you’re kinda weird.”

Diego put an arm around his niece, and she leaned close. After all these years, he could always tell when she needed a hug. “Coming out and showing yourself to the world should always be on your terms. If you didn’t feel ready, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It means a lot that you feel comfortable enough to share with me.”

“Of course! You’re my tio. I can tell you anything. Even the things that are just silly and annoying… you listen anyway.” Liv sighed, and threw down her last flower to the great, lumbering tortoise, who scarfed it down eagerly. “I’m sad that Maia is gone. I thought eventually I’d be brave enough. I can be brave with stuff like protecting people who need help, but feelings are harder.”

“Feelings can be the absolute hardest. But we’re on your side, whenever you’re ready to share them. Me and Varyyn, and Reggie, and your moms. Your moms are so proud of you, you know? Being sensitive and caring can be tough, but those feelings are what make you strong. Your Mama Taylor told me you’ve been helping her get up every day when she’s been feeling really down. You make a difference-- a good one. You don’t have to be brave enough for everything all at once.”

“Thanks, Tio. You’re smart. No wonder you wrote like, two whole books. All teachers should be as nice as you.”

“Well, I do my best. And in the end, that’s all you really can do. Do you remember from Cinderella? ‘Have courage, and be kind.’ I’d say you’re both pretty good at that already.”

______________________________

La Huerta, 2031

Seven-year-old Liv reached out her hands to a stricken bird as it flailed in distress. The sound of it being slammed against the window of the house by a larger, more aggressive foe had made her all but jump out of her skin, but if something might be hurt, she had to get over her fright quickly and help.

“Hello birdie…,”she cooed. Her fingers gently stroked the feathers on its back. It stopped flapping, but its breathing was laboured, as if it was struggling for air. Blood had risen from its eyes and nose. “It’s okay… I’m a friend.”

Gently, Liv scooped the wounded animal into her hands and cradled it, crouching over the grass in front of her home.

“Tio Diego! Varyyn! I need help!”

Of course, her uncles came running. They were never far away when tasked with keeping an eye on her; by now they were too well aware of her propensity for wandering into mischief not to be.

“Livita, are you okay--”

“Tio, she’s hurt. I think she’s gonna die. This great big bird got her and hit her against the window.”

Diego was pretty sure Liv had heard the talk about not touching wild animals, especially if they were injured and likely to lash out, but the reminder could wait. One look at the bird told him it was not long for this world.

“She is dying,” Varyyn confirmed, sadly. He exchanged a look with Diego. “It’s very sad… but we must make sure she doesn’t suffer.”

Liv sniffed. It wasn’t fair. This little bird used to hang around their home, foraging in the garden Mama Taylor had grown. They liked hearing her singing and calling to the other birds.

Varyyn squeezed Liv’s shoulder. “We’ll give her a minute to see if she fades away on her own. Do you trust us to do what’s kind for your friend?”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to leave her. I think she’s less scared with me holding her.”

Diego put an arm around Liv. “That’s good. You’re making her feel safe. Everyone deserves that. Just keep talking to her, okay? Hopefully, she’ll go peacefully.”

“It’s okay, birdie,” Liv whispered. “You’re not alone now. You can go to sleep.”

The bird gave a few more rattling breaths, then was still.

“Tio Diego… I think she’s died.”

“Yes, she’s gone, mija. You did amazing.”

Liv wept, held by her uncles.

“Death is always hard,” Varyyn said gently, “even when it’s kind. You always feel the hole where there was once a life.”

“S-she shouldn’t have died! She wasn’t hurting anyone… o-or doing anything wrong… she was just in that other bird’s way.”

“I know. It sad, and it’s not fair at all. But you made her last moments so much better; that counts for a lot. Everyone dies sometime… all you can hope for is that you go feeling loved, and you made that happen. It’s like… the circle of life. Nature can be really cruel, but that doesn’t take away the good bits. This little bird probably helped lots of plants spread their seeds.”

“Yes. Even if your friend’s life was short; it had great value.”

Liv raised her head, eyes wide. “Her body becomes the grass, right? Like Mufasa said? She’s got to at least get to be part of the circle of life if she can’t live anymore.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. If we leave her body somewhere nice where it won’t be bothered, she can feed the earth.”

“Okay. I wanna do that, then.”

A sombre procession carried the little broken body to the edge of the meadow. Liv laid the bird beneath a bush and draped her body with a fallen leaf. Then, she sat and looked over the resting place of her friend, tears filling her eyes. Varyyn was right; already there was a big empty hole. An echoey feeling right in her heart. Liv would miss hearing the bird’s chirruping as she played around the garden with her Mama Taylor. Hopefully, she’d remember that, not just this sad, sad feeling… of knowing she couldn’t protect an innocent, of seeing a life fade to nothing. Mama Estela told her that was important. That nothing should ever take away what was beautiful about something or someone once they’re gone.

She got to her feet, brushed off the dirt from her hands, then slipped one into Diego’s.

Bye, bye.

__________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Penny for yours?”

Estela sat down beneath an old familiar banana tree, settling beside Taylor, who appeared to be a million miles away.

“Oh… I was off in my own world, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, it looks that way. But you looked happy.”

“I am. Just being here has been a breath of fresh air. I feel like I’m me again, and it’s been a long time coming.”

Estela gave a contented hum and rested her head on her wife’s shoulder. “I’ve missed happy Taylor.”

“Well, thanks for sticking by and waiting out for her. Happy Taylor appreciates it.” Taylor chuckled at the sound of Estela’s quiet laughter. It was infectious. Hell, just Estela’s smile was like the embodiment of sunshine, it made coming out the other side of her dark cloud all the more glorious. “I think we’ve got our Livi back. Or I think we’re on the right track.”

“I know we are. It’s been a slow decline… I don’t think I even realised how miserable she’d gotten until I saw her snap back to how she should be.” Estela shrank in on herself. What excuse did she have? She had one job; to keep that kid happy. She didn’t have a war to contend with, or the struggle to get by between pay-checks, and she still couldn’t manage it. “I should have done better. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying so hard… but somehow I couldn’t make everything better for her. Or you.”

“Don’t you even think about it! No.” Taylor pressed a fierce kiss to Estela’s temple. “We hit a few bumps in the road, that’s all. I wasn’t counting on an intense case of the baby blues… or what might actually have been full-on post-partum depression. The timing was unfortunate; really, it sucked. But you carried us through. When Liv got suspended and I couldn’t fucking stop crying because I just couldn’t handle it, you did handle it. You’re pretty great. Ask Raj; he gave me a magic pep talk earlier, I’m sure I could rope him into a repeat performance.”

“Thank you. You’re good at putting things in perspective, I’ll give you that. I know I set my bar too high. Just because Liv has her struggles, doesn’t mean I’ve failed… it means she’s a human being. And that’s probably what we were aiming for….”

Taylor giggled. “Godammit, my otherworldly influence has been foiled!”

“Actually, while we’ve got a chance to talk… I was speaking with Aleister earlier.”

“Yeah, I thought I saw you two hanging out.”

“Well, it seems like we’ve inspired him and Grace. Reggie’s not going back to that school next year either. It sounds like Livi’s gonna have a homeschooling buddy here on La Huerta!”

“Oh, wow! Ohmygod, that’s perfect! It’ll be just like old times; almost half the gang back home again. And… and the girls? Are they waiting a year, or are they going to teach them as well?”

“You’ll have to ask them, but it sounds like they’re going to get started with Erin and Immy. It’s going to be so good for Liv.”

“Yeah. Really that’s… that’s wonderful. God, I’m so happy right now!”

Estela found herself laughing. Her dork was back. She took Taylor’s hand. “And then, moving forward, Aleister says they’re considering a permanent move to San Trobida-- obviously under the assumption that we’ll be heading in that direction ourselves.”

“Oh my… holy crap!” Taylor flung her arms around Estela and hugged her tight. Something in her knew right away… yes, that’s right. That’s where we’re all meant to be. That gut feeling overshadowed any qualms or fears. “Tio Nicolas is really not gonna know what’s hit him, hey?”

“No; and I think it will be a dream come true.” Nestled in Taylor’s embrace, the scent of her mingling with the La Huerta sea air… it was, to Estela, the very essence of happiness. The excited yells of children at play had her look up over her lover’s arms; there was her Livita, piggybacking little Erin through the shallows while the terror, Immy, sent up wild splashes of water at their faces. It was time to try something new. For them.

“Aw, ‘Stel, just look at them!” Taylor snuggled in, a giddy grin on her face. She needed a change, and she had a feeling that for her, for Estela, for Liv… it would be a step towards their best lives. The year to come, and even beyond that, was to be a thrill ride of the most exhilarating kind, and they’d take it on hand in hand. She exhaled her fears and sadness, and let the wind carry them away. “I really love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Taylor. Forever.”

_____________________

Midnight over the Celestial. Or rather, two minutes to midnight. The countdown to Liv’s tenth birthday was on, and the kids-- save for the two little ones who’d long been in bed-- were just about hanging onto the non-grumpy side of overtired.

Ten years. How could that even be? Taylor could see the years in her face and Estela’s, but it still could have been yesterday that they were interrupting the festivities with the announcement that… ‘uh, I think baby might be coming’. What had followed was a period of some of the most intense hours either of them had lived through, a culmination of two lives’ dreams and emotions. And at the end of it, Taylor had found herself holding in her hands the second love of her life. Her sunshine. As children do, Liv grew. She’d tested her mothers, putting pressure on their weak points and making them stronger. She’d brought them closer, something Taylor wouldn’t have believed possible… but sharing their daughter’s journey was like watching a miracle unfold; to be touched and changed was inevitable.

Michelle joined Taylor, a knowing look on face as they watched Liv’s impatient jiggling.

“Crazy night ten years ago… my one and only midwife job.”

Taylor chuckled. “Crazy, crazy night. The best night of my life. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop thanking you for getting us through.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. Ten years on, it’s stuck with me. It’s amazing to see the young woman she’s growing into. I’m not going to lie, I’m proud of my small part in putting her in the world.”

That change was coming so fast. The transition from that rosy-faced bundle of cuddles into a bright, opinionated adolescent was going to be underway in no time at all. Even now, looking at that giggling ten-year-old, it was hard to imagine.

I’m going to embrace every moment. Every one. You, me, your Mama Estela, we’re on this adventure together. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.

Estela put her arms around Taylor from behind, smiling into her wife’s shoulder.

“Is it my birthday yet?” Liv asked, bounding over to them.

“One minute, mija.” She tugged Liv into the hug and covered her forehead in kisses. “Come here!”

The cake was unveiled, and the small girls, Isla, Erin and Immy, erupted into ‘ooh’s, while Liv did a dance in her mothers’ arms. Her family around her sang, all together, celebrating her milestone, and she knew belonging. She looked up to her mothers and grinned, face aglow with candlelight.

The future was bright.

#endless summer #estela x taylor #playchoices

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andy-the-8th · 3 years ago

Text

Summer Research

Part 7 of Creatures That Defy Logic

Read on AO3

Jess is mapping and navigating the reefs on the coasts. John is navigating how to be a better father.

Contains a direct homage one of the most intense scenes in Moonlight (2016)

cw: homophobia, homophobic slurs, bullying, minor violence

Salty spray kicked up against the rocks, splashing with the breaking waves in the warm June sunlight. It was only late morning, but Jess had already been out at the coast for several hours.

Ever since getting past his fear of swimming (mostly), he'd realized his exploration and study of the local reefs and waters had entirely new unlocked potential. He couldn't properly dive yet - scuba was expensive and dangerous, nevermind he was probably too young - but there was plenty you could see with a snorkel in the clear shallow waters around Mahone Bay.

Jess had spent much of the last few weeks working on one stretch of coastline, on the opposite end of the harbor from where the Griffins lived. It was only a half hour bike ride from the marina, but far enough that there was rarely any significant boat activity.

From his searches at the library, Jess knew that there were very generalized maps of the offshore waters nearby - mostly just marking depths for the benefit of fishing and boating, the better to not get run aground.

However, no one had ever mapped the different micro-ecosystems, the biological landscape of the waters. Jess had decided to make this his ongoing personal research project for the summer.

Days started early, just after sunrise - temperature checks of the water and air, confirming locations with latitude and longitude. Surveys of the tide pools, updated with proper location data: tracking all species identified, recording numbers.

Once the sun was up, he'd swim out to the shallows. There were plenty of rock reefs, kelp forests, and flats within comfortable swimming range of the beach - California didn't have a lot in the ways of coral, on account of the cold open ocean currents, but what species it did have were in the southern part of the state, right where Mahone was situated on the coast. Jess had marked out 50 ft lengths of beach into specific zones, then gridded out 50 ft from the shore, 100, 150, 200 - he didn't swim out much past 200. Every day he'd pick a zone, head out with waterproof clipboard, spend the morning swimming down and resurfacing, noting everything he saw.

The rest of the afternoon he'd spend going over field guides from the library, trying to match up his observations with species he could name and identify. He'd fill it in on his data grid, another little patch of ocean, a little bit more closely explored.

This was not a terribly efficient system of research.

Still, it certainly was good practice field work, good exercise, and a good way for Jess to throw himself at his passions and not think too hard about people for a while.

That was the best part of the work - Jess didn't get lonely doing it. Marine biology had always been his main interest, but he'd spent 13 years unable to go past the tide pools for any in-person field observations. There was SO much lost time to make up.

Jess was dutiful with keeping records of his research, carefully sorted in folders in his room, labeled spiral notebooks, Xeroxed maps from the library, hand-drawn data tables and grids. His dad had asked after the first week or so if he was doing some kind of summer extra credit project, a bit surprised at how much literature Jess seemed to be producing.

Of course, he wasn't - Jess did all this on his own, like any responsible aspiring scientist. The work was its own reward.

John had kept his distance the first few weeks of the summer - Jess could tell how sorry he was for what happened. In his own way, Jess had tried to show that he'd forgiven him the last day or two - they'd never been particularly talkative, but at least Jess stopped purposefully not talking to him. He wasn't sure if his dad had picked up on that yet.

Jess thought of that as he was putting his charts and books into his bag. It was still the early in the day, but he'd decided to cut field work short today in favor of heading to the library. He had stayed out on the shore a bit to dry in the air before pedaling home. Jess usually swam with a long sleeve swim shirt, mostly to prevent sunburn and maintain body heat in the early morning water, but it meant not drying out quite as quickly. He'd have to change before going to the library.

The ride back to the marina felt a little longer than usual from the sun and heat beating down - Jess didn't normally make the trip in the middle of the day. Veering off the smooth road onto the crushed gravel of the marina, he quickly rolled to a stop under the overhang just outside the shed door next to the workshop, into the shade, before hurrying up the metal steps along the side of the building to the apartment.

The space wasn't large - really just one area for a living room/kitchen, two bedrooms, and one small bathroom at the end of the hall. The walls of the living room were mostly for maps, fishing photographs, an odd nautical salvaged antique here or there. There was a little mantle, more of a shelf (given that there was no fireplace) along the wall, with a small row of photos in frames.

Jess's school photos from the last few years. A picture of John's parents in front of the marina when it just was one workshop and shack. A photo of Jess's mother and father on their wedding day at the far end.

Jess hadn't ever known his mom - Evy, as his dad would refer to her when reminiscing. She had passed away before he was 2 year years old. In a way, it also meant he didn't really miss her either - like it or not, he'd only ever known life with just John.

He walked quickly down the hall to his room, changed into dry clothes, hung his swim shirt and towel out the sill of the small window overlooking the boat yard to dry in the sun. Carefully took the books out of his bag, swapped out the ones from his desk due back at the library, catalogued his notes. The whole process took only 15 minutes or so, and he was headed back down the outside steps to his bike.

"Where you headed, Jess?"

Even growing up with him had never quite gotten rid of the surprise when John would speak unexpectedly from his small dark study in the shed, surrounded by all his nets, salvaging gear, mermaid memorabilia. Jess jumped a bit at the sound.

"Oh uh, just going to the library, switch out some books."

"Do you, uh, want a ride? I was going to drive into town this afternoo-"

"No Dad, it's OK. I'll just go on my own."

Jess strapped on his helmet, grabbed the handlebars, starting walking his bike toward the road, out into the sun, leaving his father in the shade.

"Jess, can we tal-"

"I don't really want to talk about it. I know. I know you didn't mean any harm. I forgive you for that, or whatever. I don't want to have to go over it again."

Jess never really spoke back to his father like that. He paused, nervous, realizing how gruff he might have sounded.

John didn't really move or say anything for a second. Jess wondered if he might actually get mad at him right then.

He didn't. John breathed in and out heavily, eyes fixed on the floor, then looked up at his son.

"Thank you Jess. Thank you for forgiving me."

Immediately awkward but not wanting to ruin the moment, Jess shakily nodded and half-smiled. "You're welcome."

"You sure you don't want a ride into town?"

"No Dad, I'm fine."

He pushed himself onto the bike, kicked off the gravel, and pedaled out of the marina.

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"Back again Mr. Wheatley?"

The lady behind the front desk at Mahone Bay's small library had a pretty good memory for faces as it was, and Jess had been coming by at least once a week for the last couple years.

"Yes Ms. Mullins, just returning some books." Jess put the small stack on the counter, helpfully handing her each one to sign it back in, then stamping his library card. The library had just gotten a computer last year, but most of the checkout systems were done on paper, especially for reference texts and maps.

"So what are you studying these days? Still mapping the reefs on the south shore?"

"Yup! Plenty more beach still to go, and that's just documenting what I can see this time of year!"

By now Ms. Mullins looked forward to Jess's visits; he was always so polite, so eager to talk about what he was studying. It was a nice break from most of the teen boys one might encounter as a front desk library lady.

The door slid open behind them, another patron coming into the cool lobby out of the hot sun. A gust of the summer heat followed whoever it was through the door.

"Jess?"

Well, that wasn't a voice he normally heard this time of year.

"Mrs. Nelson?" There was a special weirdness in running into a teacher outside of school, and doubly so in the summer - almost like they were regular humans or something.

"How's your summer going? Did I hear you're doing research again?"

"I am! Continuing some of the topography studies Cody and I started on our project, but now I'm documenting up to 200 ft away from the coast, and moving it to the south side of the harbor! I've been charting all the coral and plants on the reefs, the temperatures, composition of the rocks, any animal species I can find....."

Mrs. Nelson smiled as he continued, impressed but not surprised at how much work Jess had taken on. Sure, his methods were....perhaps imprecise....but his heart was really in it. And his observations could actually be quite useful for studying the shallows around the bay, effectively building a map of all the biomes.

Always a great moment as a teacher to see one of your students applying your subject in the real world - even if they're a 13 year old amateur oceanographer.

"That's really great Jess!"

Jess had finished, a bit breathless after giving what he'd thought was a concise and quick review of his work. He was a tinge self-conscious at how much he'd spoken in such a quick burst - Sam had advised him to tone it down a bit. Then again, Mrs. Nelson was a biology teacher, and she clearly didn't show any signs of being bored or annoyed.

"Would you be interested in bringing in your research at the end of the summer? Not as homework of course, just to share your findings. You could maybe even present it for my next year's biology class if you want?"

Jess lit up like a lighthouse at that.

"Oh I'd love to! That'd be great!"

Mrs. Nelson smiled again. "Well, I won't keep you from your work any longer. Good luck! Always a great day for science." She often ended class with that little adage.

"Always a great day for science" Jess agreed, as she walked past him into the library.

"Will that be everything today dear?" Ms. Mullins was looking over the desk at him, the last book checked in and moved to the cart for re-shelving.

Jess had gotten distracted, dizzingly pre-planning how he might present his research to next year's class. "Oh, yeah. Thank you ma'am, I'll see you next week." He turned back to the automatic doors, the warm air hitting again as he stepped outside, walked down the sidewalk to the bike rack.

The library was right on the main strip in town - Mahone Bay wasn't big, so most of the usual staples were all on one or two main streets. The library sat across from the post office and a coffee shop adjoining it next door; on one side was the town hall, on the other another line of shops - tourist traps, small bookstores and craft places, small restaurants and cafes. Apartments over top of them.

Jess was just about done unchaining his bike and putting on his helmet when he caught a shadow of someone walking toward him on the sidewalk - too late.

"Ugh, watch it!" Jess started to get up to apologize to whoever it was who half-tripped over him. He looked up to see three unfortunately familiar faces.

"Oh great. How's it going Josh, summer OK?" Of course luck would have it that Sean Marshall would almost trip over him in front of the library. His voice hadn't lost any of the disdain from the last time they'd spoken - when Sean had been pretty unambiguously about to beat Jess up pretty bad.

"I-I'm sorry Sean. I didn't see you, I...." Jess stammered, surprised and more than a little shaken to see Sean again. He didn't know the other two other than that they were other swim team guys - also familiar from the last day of school as part of Sean's hangers-on crowd.

"Yeah, you should be."

"OK, I'm sorry, I am," Jess just wanted to leave now. He wanted to be away from these guys and away from whatever this might lead to.

Sean got quiet again as Jess started to get on his bike up the hill to head off. "Learned not to talk back to me, huh smartass?"

Jess knew this was an attempt to bait him. He knew he shouldn't say anything, but then again, not saying anything was equally giving Sean what he wanted.

Annoying how these bullying asshole types always created these Catch-22 situations.

"I guess I just don't really have anything to say to you right now."

If it wasn't for the proximity it brought him to physical harm, Jess would find that look of insulted surprise in Sean's eyes incredibly funny. At least he didn't give him the last word.

"Oh you'll be sorry now, no one speaks to me like that, you little fucking fag," Sean growled, starting toward Jess - it would only be seconds for him to cover the couple meters between where the three had been standing and where Jess was on his bike a bit up the sidewalk.

The library doors slid open again right as the words left his lips - Mrs. Nelson had apparently finished whatever she needed to do at the library and serendipity had her emerge right at that second.

She may only technically only hold authority in school, but a teacher being directly in sight was enough to defuse most bullies away from outright violence.

"Mr. Marshall, good to see you." Mrs. Nelson definitely didn't sound happy to see him. She was definitely using The Teacher Voice here. "Was there some problem?"

Just like before, Sean wiped away his more dangerous side effortlessly, unnervingly cool and charming in an instant. "No Mrs. Nelson, no problem. Just getting a chance to catch up with Josh."

In the back of his mind Jess wondered if all these swim team people called him Josh on purpose, or if it was a genuine mistake - not the most pressing matter at hand though.

Mrs. Nelson was looking at him pointedly now, then back at Sean. "OK then. Stay out of trouble boys. Jess, I'll see you later then?"

That was a confusing statement: she hadn't said anything about reviewing his research today.

Unless she was making it clear to Sean and the others that he would be missed, should he not get home safe today. That made Jess shudder to think about.

"Uh, OK, definitely! Thanks Mrs. Nelson!"

She sent another tough glare at the other three, and stood by the outside of the building til they moved along. Sean turned back and sneered at Jess, a dangerous glint in his eyes - he wasn't going to forget this.

Mrs. Nelson quickly walked up the sidewalk once the other three boys were out of sight down the hill, stopping right in front of where Jess was still poised on his bike.

"Jess, is there anything you need help with? Anything you want me to know here?" He'd heard that same line from teachers before - teachers knowing something was going on, but knowing they lacked proof unless a student actually told them something. He knew she did genuinely want to help.

Unfortunately, he also knew how it usually went when you tried to report bullying.

"Kids will be kids." "Boys will be boys." "They'll sort it out."

"No Mrs. Nelson, I'm fine." Jess started to get on moving, pointing his bike up the road to head home. Jess saw in her face that she knew he wasn't telling her everything.

"OK. If you're ever not, please don't be afraid to tell someone." Jess knew she really did care. But he also knew teachers could only do so much.

"Really, I'm OK. It was nice to see you, have a good rest of your summer" Jess tried to smile and sound confident as he turned and pedaled off.

Mrs. Nelson straightened up as Jess went over the hill and out of sight. Another one scared to ask for help. God, if she ever caught that Sean Marshall red handed. Fullest extent of suspension possible, swim champion or not. If only they weren't going to be in the high school next year, away from where she'd be around.

Still, she could tell Jess was tougher than most people would give him credit for. She hoped that would always be enough.

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Whether it was smart to do so or not, Jess took the long way home. Much of the afternoon heat had dissipated by the time he saw the marina coming up on the road - of course it would be light past 8 at night this time of year, but the sun was past its zenith for the day. He sped through the shadows of the boat masts and antennae crisscrossing along the gravel, turned and rolled to a stop under the overhang, put his bike just inside the shed door and hung his helmet on the handlebar. He was half-wondering if his dad would still be in his study from earlier today.

He wasn't, and from what Jess could tell once he got upstairs, he wasn't home at all. Jess wasn't surprised - it was still early in the day all things considered, and he often worked late out at the docks. Even if it was just outside the walls of the apartment, he was still at work, busy fixing up whatever boat pieces or engines the fishermen had brought in, sorting through whatever salvage he'd trawled up earlier that week.

Jess went in his room and closed the door, leaving the lights off, window open to try to get some cool sea air inside. He picked up the shirt and towel off the sill, hung them over the chair in front of his small desk. He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, took off his glasses, let the world go blurry.

He really wasn't a stranger to bullies, but there was something more cutting about his last two run-ins with Sean Marshall. Most prominently, he knew at least something about Cody - in more ways than one, that could be used to hurt Jess in a way other bullies never could. What if Sean ever worked out what really happened? What if he told anyone else? What if what he'd said about Cody not caring about Jess had any truth in it?

There was something else though. Jess hadn't let himself look it up, even though he definitely wanted to. He wanted to know what it was that Sean had been calling him. Why it stung so strangely, even without knowing the definition.

Just from context though, he knew that it wasn't something he could ask a teacher, or a librarian. And definitely not something to type into a computer's search engine.

A shuffle and the sound of the door closing outside his room let Jess know his dad had come in. Jess sat up, rubbed his eyes, and put his glasses back on. The sun had gone down while he'd been lying there, thoughts writhing around his mind. He got up and opened the door to his room, softly padded down the hall to the small living room.

"Oh hey Jess." John was taking his boots off, putting them under where he'd already hung up his work overshirt on the little wall hooks next to the door. "How was the library?"

Words caught in Jess's throat, worse than he'd expected. "It was fine Dad. Dropped off my books. I ran into Mrs. Nelson too."

John mentally chided himself for not remembering who that was. After a second, it was clear Jess hadn't really expected him to either.

"She said I can bring her my research from mapping the south shore reefs at the start of next school year. Maybe even present it to the next year's biology class."

John smiled at that, moving past the pause a line ago. "Oh that's great! That's real good, gettin' to show off all the hard work you've been doin'."

"Yeah Dad, it'll be great." Jess finished quietly, like he was closing the door on talking any more right now. It was a familiar enough cadence to their discussions. Not exactly uncomfortable most of the time. John still got the sense there was something else Jess wanted to say, or didn't want to say, or....something. He couldn't pin it but he knew that Jess wasn't closing the conversation because he didn't have more to say.

"So I uh, smoked some sea bass for dinner." They didn't always eat together at the table, but when John had a particularly good catch he tried to make the time for it. Jess brightened a bit at that - sea bass was one of his favorites, with a mildly sweet flavor and less of a fishy aftertaste.

"Oh great! I'll, um, I'll get some plates out?" Jess said this quickly walking to the small cabinet over the stove, putting two old porcelain plates on the table. Smiling for a second at the dramatic mermaid designs etched into the old china.

John got the fish out of the fridge and heated it on the gas stove while Jess cut up potatoes to fry on the side. They worked mostly silently, only a word here or there - could you pass the seasoning, can I use that dishtowel - that sort of thing.

Still not whatever John could tell that his son was avoiding.

They didn't say grace or anything, but did take a moment of pause after both sitting down, fish and fries laid out on each plate, opposite ends of the short table.

John could see Jess making small looks up at him between bites, like he was trying to hide it. He knew not to push him. His mind could come up with a dozen things Jess could want to say to him, especially after the brief outburst earlier that day. A dozen things John had already known he'd done wrong, a dozen things he wanted to make better or make up for if he knew how. He felt like he was prepared for anything Jess could be about to say -

"Dad," Jess started hesitantly. His voice was soft. Almost scared.

John let a full beat pass, swallowing his own anxiety, ready to talk about whatever Jess was about to bring up.

Jess looked down at his plate, his voice only hair above a whisper. "What does 'faggot' mean?"

John could feel his own eyes widen, his own face freeze in shock. Of all the things he was ready for Jess to say, that was definitely not one of them. What was he even supposed to say to this?"

"Jess, uh, um...." he stammered to find words, trying to sound more confident than he really was. He hoped Jess wouldn't notice, or would forgive him that too if he did. Controlling his tone, he tried to sound caring and firm, but not accusatory. It still came out rougher than he'd wanted it to. "Jess, where did you hear that word?"

He could hear Jess breathe and shudder nervously at the other end of the table. Only a few feet apart in their small kitchen, he still felt both miles away and uncomfortably, vulnerably close.

"I don't know, uh...nowhere....just, um....someone at school."

"Did someone call you that Jess?" He couldn't keep the roughness out of that line.

"No." He said it too quickly, but John wasn't going to call him on the lie. He knew Jess kept things from him, especially when it came to his social problems. There were only so many times any kid could realistically "fall off a bike." There were only so many ways to "accidentally" break one's glasses.

"Well then." John breathed heavily again. Whatever he said now, he knew it might well be one of the most critical moments in his relationship with his son.

"Faggot, uh. Well, in British, it just means a pile of sticks." He tried to make it sound humorous, to push back against the stifling unease between them. Jess gave a compulsory half smile that vanished almost before John could see it.

"But um. It means, well.....it's something people say to hurt someone. To make them feel awful about themselves."

"OK, but what does it mean." Frustrated, Jess could tell he was talking around something. It hurt to see that his son clearly already knew that the word was meant to be hurtful.

John paused again, making every effort to even and soften his voice, to bury the rage he felt at whoever had brought his Jess to this point. To the cusp of crying out of frustration at his own kitchen table.

"It's a way to negatively call a man a homosexual." That was about as even and measured as he could have put that. Jess didn't look up from his lap, but he could see that his son's shoulders relaxed just a little bit.

"Oh."

Jess felt himself breathe out at that. Well, at least there was the answer.

"Jess, do you know what that -"

"Yeah, Dad, I know....I know what that means." Jess couldn't keep the lie out of his voice on that last part though. Sure, he could reason through the word's meaning - he knew enough Latin for that.

"Is that....even possible?" he asked in a hushed uptalk, looking up at John from behind his glasses.

"Is what possible Jess?"

"Homosexual, that means, um....." Jess wasn't exactly sure what meaning to go with. Having the same sets of sex chromosomes? Having offspring from two organisms of the same sex?

John paused, realizing Jess actually didn't know this one. On one hand, in the back of his mind John was at least a little glad his son hadn't had to learn this from someone else too - that there was a bit of innocence to grownup things left in him. On the other hand, he had to answer this truthfully. Some parenting conversations are never easy.

"Jess, you know how boys like to date and get married to girls?"

"Of course" Jess's cheeks flushed, surprised and embarrassed by wherever this was going. The space between them twisted taut, made the kitchen feel almost suffocating, but he had to get this right.

"Well, sometimes, um. Boys like other boys that way. Or girls like other girls too, I guess." John was trying to keep it as age-appropriate and neutral as he could. He watched Jess carefully, watched as he had turned his eyes nervously back to his plate.

The silence hung in the air. No change to the crushing, nervous energy in the room.

His voice still quiet, but almost thick with anxiety - hopefully not tears, John prayed - Jess spoke still looking down.

"Is that bad?"

In the split second after he said it, John's brain again whirred through possible explanations, outcomes, everything, knowing he had to get this right -to not think about politics, or society, or Jesus, or AIDS - not think about what Jess might be about to tell him, or might be about to realize. Just to be the best father he could to the small scared boy in front of him.

"No Jess. That's not bad."

They both exhaled - the air in the room felt just a bit more breathable. "It's different. It's not that common. But it's not bad."

Jess looked up then, breathed in and out, in and out, calming down. "OK. Thanks for explaining Dad." He closed in the same way he'd done other conversations - times when John had asked about a black eye, a broken glasses lens, a missing shoe. Times Jess thought he had gotten as much support from his father as he was going to.

"Jess." John said it gently but emphatically. His son looked up at him, surprised.

"No matter what you might hear, I want you to always remember: no one has the right to make anyone feel bad about themselves for being different. In any way."

John let the silence hang after that. He had to make sure Jess knew that.

Jess's eyes were a bit shiny behind his glasses as he looked back across the table, and nodded once again, a bit more confident. "Thanks Dad. I won't forget."

"Alright then."

They both finished the rest of dinner without speaking - not an uncomfortable silence. Both of them had to take time to process things when it came to people and emotions rather than mythology and marine biology. They were alike in that way.

Jess was finishing drying off the last dish John had handed to him. John looked at him carefully open the cabinet, carefully put it back, carefully fold the dish towel. So gentle and harmless.

God damn, he couldn't stand to imagine anyone hurting this kid.

Jess turned away from the stove, back toward the hall, toward his room. "Goodnight Dad. Thanks for the sea bass."

"Don't mention it, bud. Goodnight." John watched his son down the hall, start to open his door.

"Jess?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"I love you."

A quiet pause. John didn't move from where he was in the kitchen, hand still on the sponge at the sink. He didn't hear Jess moving at the far end of the apartment - he was still standing with the door to his room half open.

"I love you too, Dad."

John heard the door to Jess's room click closed. He felt his whole body relax as he turned, rinsing off the sponge, wringing it out over the sink.

He heard Jess's door click open. Worry caught in his throat again.

"You alright bud?"

"Yeah Dad, I forgot to brush my teeth." John felt the tension leave again. His Jess. Always so responsible.

END NOTES:

Definitely the heaviest entry in the series so far.

I know it might seem a bit far-fetched that Jess might not know what some things mean at this age, but I can attest that I based that on my own experience - everyone learns about things in their own time and being socially out-of-the-loop, especially pre-Internet, meant kids might not learn about things until later than they might nowadays

I think Mahone Bay is an actual place in Nova Scotia and that that may be where the movie was supposed to be set, but we're going to ignore that - the sealife in the movie much better lines up with California, so that's where this fictional Mahone Bay's going to be - it also might make future crossovers that may or may not be planned a little bit easier to work with.

On a lighter note I think I've also decided that Al Gore's going to win the 2000 election in this universe, and 9/11 and the Iraq invasion are not going to happen. I doubt those will impact the story as it's currently planned but y'know, never hurts to be prepared for such questions.

#the thirteenth year #long post #dcom #disney channel original movies #disney #mermaid #mermen #homophobic slurs #ocean life #marine biology #fanfic

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