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nade2308 · 3 years

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For the Drabble thingy

5 Bruised - Jack Dalton

No pressure though

I think Nade and the concept of a drabble aren't on the same planet. I finished the thing. Hope you like this @starryhc. As for the inspiration for this story, awhile back I saw a post on Tumblr where there was a deleted scene from the 1x01 script where Jack worked as a stunt double on a movie set and we are blaming this fic on my dream brain requesting this as the reason for the bruises. Hope it's what you had in mind when you asked, Starry . The "drabble" is under the cut.

Jack let his kid take his fill by looking him up and down. Jack knew that he looked a little bit worse for wear, but that was normal in their line of work. This time however, it was from something else. And judging by the way Mac was eyeing him, he didn't manage to hide it well.

(Next time, I'm asking for Boze and his special make up).

It had been two months since they saw each other last. And Jack didn't know how he went two months without contact. But it was what Mac asked of him. Some time to rest and reflect. And Jack had so many objections to that... but he swallowed them and agreed. What else there was to be done? His kid needed time, and contrary to popular opinion, Jack wasn't going to push and hover. He knew when to back down when he wasn't needed.

The ugly doubts reared their heads as soon as they touched down in the States, though. Why was Mac asking for some time to himself? He never did before, why now? Mac was also never been shot within an inch of his life and his girlfriend was killed in the same night so Jack reasoned with that. He knew about people and having to start over when they had a brush with death and some decisions they made in the aftermath of their near-death experience. Jack just learned to deal with it. As always. When Mac called him out of the blue at 1am and asked if he could come over, Jack was ecstatic to say in the least. He didn't even stop to think of the reason. Maybe Mac wasn't still coming back from his reflection phase and it was just something he needed Jack to do.

Whatever it was, in hindsight he should have realized that Mac would notice. And he did.

"Jack. What happened?"

"Eh, it's nothing. Just... perks of the job is all."

Jack tried for a smile, but it fell flat.

"What job? Jack, were you in the field without me?"

The question slammed like a freight train into Jack and he had to actually grab something to steady himself, which turned out to be Mac's forearm.

"Whoa, Jack, easy there."

The grip he had on Mac was strong and through the fog in his head Jack was thinking how it'd leave a bruise, the kid bruised so easily he was always having these small bruises from banging himself on doorknobs and table edges. But now these bruises were going to be from Jack, because Jack wasn't able to keep himself steady another way, and that was when Mac appeared in his line of sight and Jack realized he wasn't breathing right.

"Jack, you've got to breathe. Just, follow my lead, okay?"

Jack tried to nod, but he couldn't, he was so far gone in the panic that all he could do was squeeze Mac's arm harder. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, the phantom pain at the back of his head, the nasty concussion it left in its wake.

He watched as Mac winced when he took a deep breath and suddenly Jack wasn't in his apartment, but at the edge of the lake, performing CPR on his partner, oh God, it's so cold...

...

When Jack next came to, he was lying on his couch. He had no idea how he got there, but he realized Mac's thigh was under his head and he jumped with a startle. Then promptly fell back to the softness of his partner's body because his body seized in pain. The actor on that set that insisted on doing his own stunts did a number on him. His bruises had bruises.

And judging by the way he stilled and didn't breathe for a few seconds, and Mac's gasp, Mac definitely noticed.

"I'm going to assume that that did not come from a mission."

"You know I'm off rota until you are back to the field, hoss. I ain't goin' out there unless it's with you. We had a deal, remember?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I shut you out."

"It's okay. You needed time. I get it."

"I shouldn't have."

"No hard feelings."

"I feel like you are hurt because I wasn't there to stop you from doing whatever reckless thing you did. Jack."

"I was a stunt double on a movie set. Thank God tonight was the final scene and now I can rest."

Jack groaned and any other time he'd be embarrassed that he buried his head in Mac's thigh to hide, but he was tired, hurting and if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, he had a panic attack, which in his books was definitely something to warrant that kind of behavior.

Besides, Mac could always kick him if he didn't want that.

"Where are you hurt?" Mac's small voice asked and Jack wanted to deflect, but he could detect the hint of worry in the kid's voice so he decided to be honest.

"Where am I not hurt is the question you should be asking. That little punk ass kid that insists on filming his own stunts that we worked with did a number on me. I think I even have a bruise on my butt, dude."

Mac chuckled above him and Jack fist pumped on the inside. He was carefully maneuvered into a sitting position next and - yep, that was definitely a big bruise on his butt.

"Let me see?"

Mac was asking him to see the bruises, that much was clear. And his voice brooked no arguments so Jack took off his t-shirt and realized just how stiff his shoulders were.

God, I am getting old.

Jack let Mac take his fill, he didn't have to see the way he looked to know he suffered a beating. He felt every bruise and every pull on the skin. If he was being honest... it kinda felt like he got what he deserved after what he let happen to Mac and Nikki in Italy. Finding Mac floating in lake Como was one of his worst nightmares come true.

Cold fingers touched his skin and he recoiled, before he realized it was Mac and then he forced himself to relax. Mac needed to make sure that he was okay, and Jack was going to let him.

"Jesus, Jack, this is a beating, not a stunt."

"You should see the other guy."

"Jack."

"It's okay, Mac. I've had worse."

"It doesn't make this hurt any less. C'mon, let's get you to bed. I'll get you some ice."

Jack wanted to protest, how he was going to take care of himself on his own, but Mac needed to see to it that Jack was going to be okay and Jack was going to let him.

"Okay."

Mac, true to his word, settled him into bed and brought ice packs that he MacGyvered into sticking around so as to none of them should hold them in the hurt places. Jack groaned as the cold from the ice seeped into the bruises, but after a while it became a background sensation and he relaxed.

"Thanks, Mac."

"Don't mention it."

They sat in silence for a few moments but Jack needed to know.

"Mac, why are you here? Not that I don't want you here, I'm more than happy to have you here."

"I realized that I was hurting myself and you by keeping a distance. I was caught in the anger and grief about what happened with Nikki and me... being shot. On your watch. I realized that you are pretty much beating yourself up over what happened and decided to stop some of that train of that.

"What I didn't anticipate is you literally beating yourself up. Now that's some quality punishment for things you are not guilty of."

Jack didn't dare look up at Mac, it was enough that Mac knew what Jack was doing.

Talk about self destruction... him and Mac had a lot in common in that department.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have said that before."

"It's-"

"God help me if you say "it's okay". It's not, Jack. I pushed you away. It was as if I was telling you that you pulled the trigger."

Jack winced. Was this kid going to expose all his inner thoughts tonight?

"Sorry, that didn't come out right. Listen, Jack, I'm sorry. It wasn't okay that I pushed you away. It shouldn't be okay that you accept the guilt so easily. You were hurt, too. Remember?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm sorry, too."

They were both dealing with a loss of a friend (lover in Mac's case) and what happened in Italy in different ways. But it looked like they weren't going to do it each by themselves after tonight.

"Can I stay?"

Jack was brought out of his musings and looked at Mac. Really looked at him. The kid looked pale, his cheeks gaunt and he was clutching his left shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Can I stay? I'm... My shoulder is hurting and I have some of my things here so... well I should probably text Bozer and tell him I'm-"

"Of course you can stay."

"Great, uh... let me just go and grab my phone, I left it on the table. And I'll take these now."

Jack shuddered as Mac removed the ice packs, now melted.

"I'll get you a shirt."

A moment later Mac left a shirt on the bed as he went to presumably text Bozer. And Jack smiled when he saw it was one of his old Army t-shirts, loose and comfy. Jack changed into a loose pair of sweatpants and got under the covers, careful not to press too much on the worst bruises. He was going to be sore in the morning.

Mac re-entered Jack's room and Jack could tell he wanted to say something, but was kinda frozen in the middle of the room.

He raised the covers and tapped on the other half of the bed.

"C'mere, hoss. Let's get some sleep."

"I can... I can sleep in the guest room? I could roll over and hurt you, you know how I can get."

"Nonsense. Come in here."

"Okay."

"I think we both need this, so it's a win-win situation."

Mac smiled and as he settled in, he gravitated towards Jack that pulled him to his side.

"I'm so sorry I worried you earlier." Jack could feel the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"It's okay, Jack. I'm just glad I was around."

Jack nodded in agreement and closed his eyes. They could deal with everything else in the morning. He was wiped.

"Good night, Mac."

"Good night, Jack."

#100 drabble challenge #drabble #writing #my writing #my fic #fan fic #prompt number 5 #bruises #tw: panic attack #1x01 filler #jack dalton #angus macgyver #macgyver #macgyver 2016

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morgand · 4 years

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Oh Allaman brothers play jose say bagoons on tube its time for frieing of mind blaaaasaahasash? Watchung cartoon porn drink shots planning bitmrthsmday next week n Third fOr ROARXLYsy assention to REARENDING HERTHAT WAYZ n bring it ti ger face blate she plays for it skeet dskeet saath organd the fithast muther fujer a hater evetmr knew nade whores. rr es whores n pimo bush wizh w cocj adoodal doo come riund here to night im fucjmkin sux ramnungw diwn sude wayti grintz upbazck inreadreast the delicios cum in your abd out you. OMG althe fukdoggie dougD nevery where? Like wow youu best cum onget shorend n puklllem then painties too amside it rainboken nises fat lipos n fukin stuck eye lashes w rawness n nasty nasty cum fuckery frim a hit wet delight like you Ms MoisetsWbitefuk nessthee Bumbyouszxeditum oh fuk yea!!!!!!!!!

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happy-hollow-rpg · 4 years

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Sum of Zero | Akira | Post Trial 1 Results | ATTN : All

As soon as the results are announced, Akira pauses. The sobbing and sniffling instantly stops as Akira uncovers their face, revealing not a single tear in sight, as well as a wound on the palm of their hand. Just for good measure, they repeat the sobbing noise before a malicious look overtakes their features.

It’s over. There’s nothing left for them to do or lie about. Their turn to have a ball.

“I can’t believe it took you fucks so long. I lied about so much shit and you all just… ate it up, huh? ‘Nade was a popular girl, and I work with corporate people. I obviously know how to lie, I’m just nice enough to be totally honest most of the time. Good, gonna be a fucking bitch to remember all I lied about, but here goes!”

“I lied as early as the investigation, because I thought ahead. Y’know what’s rich? You guys seemed to buy the sound darkness bullshit I made up. I mean, technically, I fucked up and let slip what it was even. I mean, how would I see my investigation group during that time, like I was more or less saying I had? I have fucking night vision.“ Why else would the fire place be put out?

“I did the study puzzle. Easy as shit. Real reason I couldn’t let you guys know is, well… I’d have enough money to also buy the water card then, huh? Also why I got rid of the notes, since they might trace back to me. Considering the confusion I caused though…Fucking worth it. You all over analyzed shit way too much. If only you asked me to take off my gloves…Much sooner.”

“Peach being the victim was just chance. If it worked out, could’ve been any of you. Just heard the music, walked on in, and handed her the journal. Even shut the curtains too. No light.“ Akira’s smile grows as they describe the scene. “Bitch pushed me into a shelf though. Fucking back’s got some marks too, though none of you looked.“ A snicker at that. “Hit her with the snow globe though, and down she went. All I needed to do was finish the job.“

“By the way, whoever set up the razor thing, thanks! I was serious about not being able to set that up, because I didn’t. So have fun dealing with that.”

A smile crosses their face, different than the one before. It’s clear Akira still feels they have control, still feels they’re winning the situation even knowing they’ve lost, because now they can make their point.

“In fact, have fun dealing with everything you’ve done. I mean, fuck, you all threw each other under the bus so quickly. Though that’s what humanity’s all about, huh? Why only in the mind you’re safe. People betray you. They hurt you, pretend they give a shit, then ditch you the moment it helps, or find a way to hurt you and ruin everything. You all were so willing to just….throw the himbo out and call him a killer. Or poor little dumbass Erika over there,” they point to Erika K, “because of one thing or another. I’ve never lied about caring for you guys at all. I made it clear I was worried about myself, even when lying. More than most of you can say.”

Then their eyes flicker over to Amelia.

“I mean, do you guys know she works with criminals? Or about Bloodletter? Ask about that knife, real cool looking from what I remember when she pulled it out on me. She does knife fights, she has scars she’s hidden. I mean, I saw them, but only when she was threatening me. Face it, trust is worthless here. You’ve all proven what you are. This cycle isn’t gonna end any time soon.”

There is a beat where finally Akira looks serious.

“Considering what happened to pumpkin boy, I’m pretty sure I’ll be dead so…. Can one of you fucks bother contacting Kanade? Runs a private investigator place in Nagasaki. Share an apartment, split rent though…Guess I can’t now, huh?” There’s a bitter laugh from Akira. “You can tell her the meanest shit you want, she probably won’t be surprised I killed anybody. Don’t bring up her parents, it’ll probably set her off. Something’s.. been wrong. Dunno what. Would’ve been fine if I won and got that world but…guess not.” Akira shrugs.

“She’s a good person. Sure, she betrayed me too, but who hasn’t? My parents did before they got sent to jail for being pieces of shit. Kanade did for abruptly having me pulled away from what I knew. The Oshiros betrayed Kanade, clearly, and I sure as hell didn’t like them. At least she still cares enough to stay, huh? That’s something. Even after the bar fights and the nasty shit that’s my personality. Even I know that, but I can still rock it.”

Akira finally just sighs, done.

“You’re all fucking dumbasses, for the record. Just…Make sure she knows”

Carefully they put their gloves down, and take off their headphones.

“Headphones for Kanade Oshiro, gloves for Judas.”

Not like they expect anybody to do shit after that though.

#chapter1 #trial1 #ic #Akira #submission

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orkestrations · 6 years

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sometimes, i act like the responsible adult i pretend to be, and do actual adult responsibilities (emailing my private lessons teacher, doing stuff for school, practicing) instead of engaging in online drama.

that being said, fuck that one mi/nade/ku au and everyone supporting it. you’re all nasty.

#kestrel screams #discourse #kinda

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hiphopscriptures · 2 years

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Fresh Artist Fridays: Deucez Wyled

With its soft, mellow beat, “Yikez” is perfect for a late night car ride or hang out session. Deucez Wyled brings an edge to the song with his large-and-in-charge voice. His voice is distinctly raspy and slightly off-center, but manages to never lose its rhythm. His rapping style pairs perfectly with the song’s hypnotizing production. The single is completed by a music video, which you can watch below, that adds a sultry feel to the song. “Yikez” is the first single off Deucez Wyled’s highly anticipated album "Emotions Running High" on WSD Music. Check out his music through the links above and connect with Deucez Wyled through his socials to make sure you don’t miss the release of his upcoming album. Remember to follow Hip Hop Scriptures to stay updated on the latest Fresh Artist Friday.

ARTIST BIO:

Deucez Wyled is an Urban Pop/Hip Hop artist born and raised in Philadelphia, PA. He was influenced by Tupac, Busta Rhymes, DMX, 50 Cent, and Jay-Z. He got his start writing parody songs in elementary school similar to that of which Weird Al Yankovic was doing. He turned Busta Rhymes' Pass The Couvoiseiur into Pass The Cherry Kool-Aid and Big Tymers Get Ur Roll On into Get Your Grub On. As a freshman he began writing battle raps to compete against his classmates. He recorded his first song with classmate Tyrque Jackson, who now goes by the name of R'que.

Deucez has worked with Jaguar Wright and performed in rap battles in The Verbal War Zone Battle League and Power House Battle League. He has performed at Jus Words, Red Wine Restaurant, Voltage Lounge, The Rusty Nail, Natrix, Queen Lounge, The Blue Room Lounge, Lyrics Lounge, King Royal Hookah Lounge and with Fire Da Misfit, Corey Gambino, KJ Spittin, Jay Billin, Nasty Nade (TKG), Vinny Vindetta, and Trap Jimi.

STAY CONNECTED WITH DEUCEZ WYLED ON SOCIAL MEDIA:

Instagram - Twitter - Facebook - https://wsdmusic.com/store

STAY CONNECTED WITH HIP HOP SCRIPTURES ON SOCIAL MEDIA:

#Yikez #fresh artist fridays #new hip hop #new music #Deucez Wyled

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ultimatebottom69 · 3 years

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So I learned what the hell was going on nowadays, like yesterday.

Apparently. Black people are being rascist to Asians...

Welp. I am not surprised at all, yes. I have a family who is rascist against everyone (as in yes. White ? They hate them. Black people ? They hate them. Arabs ? They hate them. Asians ? They hate them.) Due to the virus, BLM movement, and well the economy. Their rascism became overwelming especially for me as I started to try to help.

So I expected as such, though hitting elders and such is fucking shameful.

I just hope both of the groups stops fighting and see that they have a common ennemy, but as usual I am hoping too much.

I understand where the hate between the two groups are and come from.

Black people wherever they go are hated by everyone. That's the rule. Their history nade it that way.

Asian people however we look at it, are more and more seen as invaders, parasites and other nasty names due to their history.

So you would expect both minorities to be I dunno respectful to each others as they are the most horribly treated. Nope. Somehow both of them decided to fight.

Asians are rascist towards Black people, like blatant discrimination, theft, fetishization.

Black people are rascist towards Asian people, such as assault, blatant discrimination and fetishization.

It's just sad honestly. I am not even angry anymore. It's just fucking sad.

#rascis.#rascist #rascism #asian hate crime #asian hate crimes #black hate crimes #it's just sad bro

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ask-a-genestealer40k · 6 years

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My agri-world has a gun show coming up. Anything my bug-friend can reccommend for me to pick up? I think'd I'd like to shoot casually but there's lot of nasties out there these days.

“...well, for someone who just wants to defend themselves, the Puritan-14 pistol isn’t a bad option. Doubles as a shotgun in a pinch. Try and get a fire selector with it. Or a hand flamer. Those work too. For something not-handheld, try a simple lasgun. They’re surprisingly effective. I don’t recommend any bolter stuff bigger then a pistol unless you’re prepared to spend a lot on ammo. Flamers and ‘nade launchers also work well enough, but both are extremely dangerous for different reasons.”

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syndianites · 7 years

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Nightmares

Ship:Syndianite (Tom x S1 Dianite)

Summary: Being reborn does not relieve you of your nightmares. Escaping death does not erase all you have seen in the void. And though Tom may not remember much from being in the empty blackness, his dreams do.

AN: Though Tom was mostly asleep when drifting through being dead, he still got to see some nasty things, mostly during his own death.

It was no secret that many of the inhabitants of the land had nightmares. Jordan sometimes found himself back at The original Jerry’s tree, breathing in the smoke, watching it burn. Each time he'd wake in a cold sweat and would imagine a lingering smell of burning wood. In a way, he knew this was when he was forced to surrender a peaceful life.

Tucker dreamt of a family lost, not to death, but separation. His dreams taunted him with raging waves and cutting winds, the faces of his family, paralyzed, as he was on sturdy ground one moment, and in the air the next. He would bolt up gasping for air, choking on water long since emptied from his lungs. To this day his heart aches when he ponders if they survived the storm.

Sonja was haunted by the rattling of chains. Of the wretched smell of beer from the mouths of rich bastards, their filthy hands reaching for her tail, pawing at scandalous clothing. (She asked for it, they said, being so pretty. A pretty little pet, in a cage where she belongs). Her own screeching woke her more often than not. (And even now, with a careful, lobbing boyfriend, she can't forget how dirty she felt with their hands on her, wondering if she'd ever feel clean again).

Champwan, by far the quietest on the island, screamed the loudest at unknown horrors. He'd scream and cry, even after his voice gave out. But the look in Dec’s eyes, as he held the distraught man in his arms, one that had seen these faceless demons, spoke volumes of their strife. While no one asked, many wondered if the cause of these night terrors was the reason the two had traveled out to this distant land. (One day, perhaps, they'd learn the truth about Champwan, and perhaps they too, would lose faith in kindness of people).

Few knew if Nade or the Modesteps held such trauma, beyond the Dianitees and their god. If the bags beneath Nade’s eyes, and his strange nightly excursions held any clues, no one called him out on it. With the way the Modesteps were so viciously protective of each other, it was easy to guess what theirs would be about. No one felt safe to ask.

(Tom, of course, knew what they dreamt about. The Dianitees, though not always together, were a close knit family. They knew what ate at each other, and it brought them closer. It would take death to rip apart the family they had found for themselves, and Dianite refused to let death take them from each other).

Almost everyone knew Tom dreamt of his death. Few, however, truly knew what this meant. It meant he could remember watching his friends, his comrades from years before he knew how to fight, die around him. He could see in his mind’s eye how each building burned. How each lost their support and crashed, bringing down wood and debris, the memories of families, the lives people had built for themselves. In comparison, the wedge driven through his heart meant little. It was a reprieve from watching his childhood fall, from the blinding rage and sorrow that threatened to drown him.

(These nights found him taking a walk, finding a place devoid of humans, and just destroying. He would rampage for hours, and then curl up wherever he was. Sometimes someone else would be out, and they would take him home, or back with them. Other times Dianite would bring him back with him. Regardless, words were never exchanged. They have no worth then).

Other times, with no discernible cause, he'd dream about the afterlife. About the fall into it. Being consumed by it. The screams of other souls being sucked in, their agony, and even the ones who were at peace, resigned, they never left him. He could remember the girl next to him with startling accuracy. She was at least twice his age, frail, sickly. Aged eyes and fading laugh lines. The entire way down she sobbed, “I never got to see my baby girl. I never got to see my baby girl.” (Once he came back, he made it his mission to learn how to be a mid-wife. To know the signs, know how to keep their health up).

The next part was both better and worse. It meant an end, a place to stop hurting. But it also meant experiencing all your feeling being ripped from you. Your hurt, anger, sadness, happiness, everything. Your body started to freeze over, become numb. (Though in reality, it was your soul losing its final grasp on life, your real body having lost everything moments before). The last thing you felt was cold before you were left to drift in nothingness.

(He would always wake up cold with these nightmares. A bone deep chill that his soul would never forget entirely. After the first time, Dianite could always tell when these ones would come, for he'd do his best to get Tom awake before they went too far. Sometimes he couldn't. Though he always, always, stayed with Tom afterwards. With him there, he could let himself be warm again, could forget he wasn't supposed to be alive).

Though gods needed no sleep, Dianite sported his own nightmares. (As did the other gods, though they hardly shared their experiences. Jordan had once wondered if his lady ever dreamt about losing her heart, and he'd never know how close to the truth he was). Tom wasn't sure how his god experienced nightmares, but some part of him knew when he was having them. His gut would twist, and he would worry. No matter where he was, he would find a way to his god (most times he demanded he brought him to him, other times, when Dia refused, he would trek all the way to him).

Though he had no idea what his love dreamt of, he always did his best to comfort him. (He could guess one issue, whenever Dianite found him wordlessly, clutching at him, never relinquishing his hold. He understood). These times were few and far between, but took at least a couple of days to recover from. (No matter how many times the Nether god claimed to be better, Tom knew when he actually meant it).

(In a much later time, Jordan relived the fall of his other goddess, almost every night, for months, and their newer friends felt the trauma of a world lost, and those lost with it. Tom, however, felt the force of both losing his god, and seeing his other god lying so eerily still (though, in a way, he wasn't alone in that). Dianite, his Dianite, never forgave himself for what happened to his sister, and his role in it (though, the other god never forgave either))

(AN: I just realized I didn’t check any of these for inconsistencies, my weird pet peeve in my own work. Whoops. Too late now. I saw that someone else posted some Diacate, so now I can forgo sleep for a good cause!)

#Syndianite #@Diacate #TomxDianite #DianitexTom #SyndicatexDianite #DianitexSyndicate #Mianite #MianiteS1 #not sure my tags are right #oops #I need sleep #but i wont go to bed

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