Moar Do the Shuffle x 3 (I think this will be the last one...)
This is apparently the only way I can write, for now. I'm so sorry, flist. There's a lot of these. 1400 words worth of bits and pieces... Enjoy.
Title: Bad Dreams
Your Song: Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
Word Count: 248
Rating: R
Fandom or Original: Original (Stellar)
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Violence -- blood & gore, suicide
Summary: Jordan dreams of his last night on Earth, weight of the gun and all.
Jordan could feel the weight of the gun in his hands -- could see the blood splatter behind his mother’s head. As if he couldn’t stop himself, he lifted the barrel to his own temple. One deep breath in. One deep breath out.
Pull.
Jordan woke with a start, his brain knocking furiously against the inside of his skull. He gave himself a quick shake, looking out over the rest of the cabin. The other passengers were still asleep, reclined in their seats.
All but one.
Saito stared back at him, his arms crossed over his chest and his hair obscuring his eyes. “Bad dream?” he asked, his voice a quiet hum against the noise of the train. Noise they shouldn’t even be able to hear, considering it traveled through the galaxy, only to bring them to Venus.
“Why do you care?” Jordan snapped, rubbing his temple as he turned his attention out to the cosmos spread before them. His head still ached where the bullet had pierced his flesh. How long ago had it really been since he died? Why could he still feel his death? Dream it?
He didn’t want to know the answers. The questions, at the very least, kept him distracted. Kept him focused on anything but the task at hand.
Eight good deeds. He had already completed one. But really, how easy were they going to be?
Not as easy as pulling the trigger, that’s for sure.
Title: It's Over
Your Song: If You Could Only See - Tonic
Word Count: 181
Rating: PG-13
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Seize the Day)
Pairings (if any): Jazz/Mitchel
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Jazz's had enough.
“It’s over, Mitchel,” Jazz said, glaring at the older man. He kept his voice low, but firm. They were in the Council room, its mahogany table sitting between himself and Mitchel. The slur plague rat playing over and over in his mind, Mitchel’s tone as he said it -- no, how he spat it out.
“What are you talking about, Jazz?” Mitchel asked, his eyebrows bunching together. A fake look of confusion. Everything about this man was fake. Had to be fake. How else could he be with Jazz and use such language when referring to those who were Natural Born?
“You called Ryin a -- a --” Jazz struggled to get the words past his lips, tears filling his eyes as he forced it out. “-- a plague rat.”
But that wasn’t it. That the only thing Mitchel had done. They had been dating for how long now? Mitchel still didn’t want to acknowledge their relationship to others. Didn’t so much as breathe the words I loved you. Remained guarded at all times.
Title: Leaving
Your Song: Under my Umbrella - Incubus
Word Count: 143
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, mentions of Jazz/Savin
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Mitchel gives Jazz a way out.
Jazz shivered, pulling the light jacket Mitchel had given him even tighter around his body. The two drove in silence, Mitchel pursing his lips together as if he were going to say something, but without ever speaking.
Away. Jazz was going away. Leaving the Empire behind. Living with some man Mitchel considered to be a friend -- or at least, he considered the man to be trustworthy. That was better than what Jazz could say about Savin. A whole lot better.
“So what’s -- what’s this guy’s first name, anyway?” Jazz asked, shattering the delicate silence between them. He turned to Mitchel and tried to focus on the other man’s soft brown eyes. Eyes that regarded him with more care than Savin’s had in the past few weeks, maybe months.
“Ravi. His full name is Ravi Diehl,” Mitchel answered.
Title: Regret
Your Song: 11am - Incubus
Word Count: 211
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, really
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Savin gets up the next morning, but barely.
Savin pulled himself out of bed, grabbing his phone. He rubbed his eyes, raking his fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes as he stumbled from the bedroom to the bathroom. He needed to get ready. Needed to face the day.
Needed to face the Council. Tell them what had happened, tell them that Jazz was gone. The empty bed had been more than enough proof of that. Without Jazz’s incessant shaking him awake, he almost hadn’t gotten up that morning. Not in time.
But today -- today was important. Today was day one of doing it alone. Of putting the past behind him and moving forward. He needed to. Needed to do it for his Empire, needed to do it for Jazz.
Most of all, he needed to for himself. Needed to prove to himself that he could do this. That he would get help when Mari would hand him the names of some trustworthy psychologists. That he would pull himself together long enough to do that. To at least try.
But right now -- right now, he just wanted to go back to bed. Wanted to forget last night even happened.
Wanted to forget he could ever do that.
Title: How Long?
Your Song: Hey You - Pink Floyd
Word Count: 213
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, but hints towards Jazz/Ravi
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Jazz contemplates going back, but knows he can't, and that he shouldn't.
Jazz glanced around the bar, thankful that no one seemed to bat an eyelash at him. Ravi had gone to the bathroom, leaving him sitting alone at the booth for the first time that evening.
How long had it been since he had even gone out? How long had it been since he sat in a public place without the fear of being recognized? Surely, the Empire hadn’t forgotten about him by now. They couldn’t have.
If the patrons of the bar recognized him, though, they gave no signs of it. How long had he abandoned the Empire now? How long had it been since he left Savin to do it entirely alone? The Empire hadn’t collapsed in Jazz’s absence, just like Mitchel said it wouldn’t, but the Hooban war continued and the Resistance --
The Resistance had done more than its fair share of growing. It had become so powerful that Jazz suspected a Civil War would get its proper start, soon enough. All because of him. All because Savin couldn’t hold back at the first chance to utilize the military’s power.
Jazz couldn’t go back, though. Didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want to put himself through yet another personal hell. And Ravi -- Ravi had been so kind to him.
Title: Not Going Back
Your Song: Shine - Collective Soul
Word Count: 186
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): Past Jazz/Savin, hints towards Jazz/Ravi
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Ravi asks Jazz a couple of difficult questions.
“So, you ever think of goin’ back?” Ravi asked, relaxing into the booth across from Jazz. They sat in a noisy bar, tele-screens blaring all around them.
Jazz choked on his beer, sputtering for a moment before managing to clear his throat. “No,” he answered, shaking his head. He glanced at his left hand -- at where his ring used to sit on his finger.
“But you loved ‘im, didn’t you?” Ravi continued, tracing a finger over the edge of his glass. He leaned in closer to Jazz, the lighting catching his amber eyes just right.
With some concentration, Jazz diverted his eyes, shifting his weight in his seat. “I did,” he whispered, taking another sip from his beer. He winced, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
He did love Savin. Whether he still did now, he didn’t know. It had been months. Had Savin even tried to look for him? Or did he just let Jazz go, accepting that Jazz would never come back?
Especially not now, not when Ravi looked at him like that, his typically harsh eyes filled with concern. With longing.
Title: That Day
Your Song: One Headlight - The Wallflowers
Word Count: 218
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Death
Summary: Savin gets dressed for what may be the hardest day of his life.
Savin gave himself a once over in the mirror, his hand reaching for a tie he knew to be perfect. He hadn’t untied any of them, not once he got them right, not anymore. He pulled his hair back, careful to brush every single strand into place.
He needed to look perfect. Needed to look put together. Needed to look like himself, and not a mere shadow of who he used to be. Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes, fingers deftly moving along his suit jacket, taking his time with each button.
“Nothing is forever,” he whispered to himself, snapping his eyes open. His reflection stared back at him, eyes bloodshot with dark rims lying underneath them. If he were giving a speech, he’d be heading straight for the make-up artist’s chair, trying to hide them.
Where he was going, he wouldn’t need the make-up. Would prefer to go without it, this once. Would prefer to look as broken as he felt, as empty as his eyes looked.
He couldn’t even cry anymore. All of his tears had left him, days ago. His heart drummed weakly in his chest as he thought back to That Day. Capital letters and all. That Day. That Day where he lost everything.
That Day he lost Jazz.
Title: Bad Dreams
Your Song: Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen
Word Count: 248
Rating: R
Fandom or Original: Original (Stellar)
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Violence -- blood & gore, suicide
Summary: Jordan dreams of his last night on Earth, weight of the gun and all.
Jordan could feel the weight of the gun in his hands -- could see the blood splatter behind his mother’s head. As if he couldn’t stop himself, he lifted the barrel to his own temple. One deep breath in. One deep breath out.
Pull.
Jordan woke with a start, his brain knocking furiously against the inside of his skull. He gave himself a quick shake, looking out over the rest of the cabin. The other passengers were still asleep, reclined in their seats.
All but one.
Saito stared back at him, his arms crossed over his chest and his hair obscuring his eyes. “Bad dream?” he asked, his voice a quiet hum against the noise of the train. Noise they shouldn’t even be able to hear, considering it traveled through the galaxy, only to bring them to Venus.
“Why do you care?” Jordan snapped, rubbing his temple as he turned his attention out to the cosmos spread before them. His head still ached where the bullet had pierced his flesh. How long ago had it really been since he died? Why could he still feel his death? Dream it?
He didn’t want to know the answers. The questions, at the very least, kept him distracted. Kept him focused on anything but the task at hand.
Eight good deeds. He had already completed one. But really, how easy were they going to be?
Not as easy as pulling the trigger, that’s for sure.
Title: It's Over
Your Song: If You Could Only See - Tonic
Word Count: 181
Rating: PG-13
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Seize the Day)
Pairings (if any): Jazz/Mitchel
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Jazz's had enough.
“It’s over, Mitchel,” Jazz said, glaring at the older man. He kept his voice low, but firm. They were in the Council room, its mahogany table sitting between himself and Mitchel. The slur plague rat playing over and over in his mind, Mitchel’s tone as he said it -- no, how he spat it out.
“What are you talking about, Jazz?” Mitchel asked, his eyebrows bunching together. A fake look of confusion. Everything about this man was fake. Had to be fake. How else could he be with Jazz and use such language when referring to those who were Natural Born?
“You called Ryin a -- a --” Jazz struggled to get the words past his lips, tears filling his eyes as he forced it out. “-- a plague rat.”
But that wasn’t it. That the only thing Mitchel had done. They had been dating for how long now? Mitchel still didn’t want to acknowledge their relationship to others. Didn’t so much as breathe the words I loved you. Remained guarded at all times.
Title: Leaving
Your Song: Under my Umbrella - Incubus
Word Count: 143
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, mentions of Jazz/Savin
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Mitchel gives Jazz a way out.
Jazz shivered, pulling the light jacket Mitchel had given him even tighter around his body. The two drove in silence, Mitchel pursing his lips together as if he were going to say something, but without ever speaking.
Away. Jazz was going away. Leaving the Empire behind. Living with some man Mitchel considered to be a friend -- or at least, he considered the man to be trustworthy. That was better than what Jazz could say about Savin. A whole lot better.
“So what’s -- what’s this guy’s first name, anyway?” Jazz asked, shattering the delicate silence between them. He turned to Mitchel and tried to focus on the other man’s soft brown eyes. Eyes that regarded him with more care than Savin’s had in the past few weeks, maybe months.
“Ravi. His full name is Ravi Diehl,” Mitchel answered.
Title: Regret
Your Song: 11am - Incubus
Word Count: 211
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, really
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Savin gets up the next morning, but barely.
Savin pulled himself out of bed, grabbing his phone. He rubbed his eyes, raking his fingers through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes as he stumbled from the bedroom to the bathroom. He needed to get ready. Needed to face the day.
Needed to face the Council. Tell them what had happened, tell them that Jazz was gone. The empty bed had been more than enough proof of that. Without Jazz’s incessant shaking him awake, he almost hadn’t gotten up that morning. Not in time.
But today -- today was important. Today was day one of doing it alone. Of putting the past behind him and moving forward. He needed to. Needed to do it for his Empire, needed to do it for Jazz.
Most of all, he needed to for himself. Needed to prove to himself that he could do this. That he would get help when Mari would hand him the names of some trustworthy psychologists. That he would pull himself together long enough to do that. To at least try.
But right now -- right now, he just wanted to go back to bed. Wanted to forget last night even happened.
Wanted to forget he could ever do that.
Title: How Long?
Your Song: Hey You - Pink Floyd
Word Count: 213
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None, but hints towards Jazz/Ravi
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Jazz contemplates going back, but knows he can't, and that he shouldn't.
Jazz glanced around the bar, thankful that no one seemed to bat an eyelash at him. Ravi had gone to the bathroom, leaving him sitting alone at the booth for the first time that evening.
How long had it been since he had even gone out? How long had it been since he sat in a public place without the fear of being recognized? Surely, the Empire hadn’t forgotten about him by now. They couldn’t have.
If the patrons of the bar recognized him, though, they gave no signs of it. How long had he abandoned the Empire now? How long had it been since he left Savin to do it entirely alone? The Empire hadn’t collapsed in Jazz’s absence, just like Mitchel said it wouldn’t, but the Hooban war continued and the Resistance --
The Resistance had done more than its fair share of growing. It had become so powerful that Jazz suspected a Civil War would get its proper start, soon enough. All because of him. All because Savin couldn’t hold back at the first chance to utilize the military’s power.
Jazz couldn’t go back, though. Didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want to put himself through yet another personal hell. And Ravi -- Ravi had been so kind to him.
Title: Not Going Back
Your Song: Shine - Collective Soul
Word Count: 186
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): Past Jazz/Savin, hints towards Jazz/Ravi
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None, really
Summary: Ravi asks Jazz a couple of difficult questions.
“So, you ever think of goin’ back?” Ravi asked, relaxing into the booth across from Jazz. They sat in a noisy bar, tele-screens blaring all around them.
Jazz choked on his beer, sputtering for a moment before managing to clear his throat. “No,” he answered, shaking his head. He glanced at his left hand -- at where his ring used to sit on his finger.
“But you loved ‘im, didn’t you?” Ravi continued, tracing a finger over the edge of his glass. He leaned in closer to Jazz, the lighting catching his amber eyes just right.
With some concentration, Jazz diverted his eyes, shifting his weight in his seat. “I did,” he whispered, taking another sip from his beer. He winced, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
He did love Savin. Whether he still did now, he didn’t know. It had been months. Had Savin even tried to look for him? Or did he just let Jazz go, accepting that Jazz would never come back?
Especially not now, not when Ravi looked at him like that, his typically harsh eyes filled with concern. With longing.
Title: That Day
Your Song: One Headlight - The Wallflowers
Word Count: 218
Rating: PG
Fandom or Original: Tomorrow Trilogy (Gray Morning)
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Death
Summary: Savin gets dressed for what may be the hardest day of his life.
Savin gave himself a once over in the mirror, his hand reaching for a tie he knew to be perfect. He hadn’t untied any of them, not once he got them right, not anymore. He pulled his hair back, careful to brush every single strand into place.
He needed to look perfect. Needed to look put together. Needed to look like himself, and not a mere shadow of who he used to be. Breathing in deeply, he closed his eyes, fingers deftly moving along his suit jacket, taking his time with each button.
“Nothing is forever,” he whispered to himself, snapping his eyes open. His reflection stared back at him, eyes bloodshot with dark rims lying underneath them. If he were giving a speech, he’d be heading straight for the make-up artist’s chair, trying to hide them.
Where he was going, he wouldn’t need the make-up. Would prefer to go without it, this once. Would prefer to look as broken as he felt, as empty as his eyes looked.
He couldn’t even cry anymore. All of his tears had left him, days ago. His heart drummed weakly in his chest as he thought back to That Day. Capital letters and all. That Day. That Day where he lost everything.
That Day he lost Jazz.