![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
LJ Idol, Season 10, Week 3: Brushback Pitch
“Let go of my fucking son.” Murdock moves in close.
Can smell the stench of his carnivore breath, feel it hot on my face. Heart’s in my throat, stomach right behind it. I gulp ‘em back, keep my knife hand steady. Keep my eyes on his, searing blue and all but shooting sparks. World goes dim, him and me and nothing else.
“Let go of him, you Umani piece of shit,” he growls, like I didn’t already hear him.
I smirk, my arm still tight around the kid. “Gotta give me what I want first, General.”
Course he can’t, not really. Can’t give me back the man I love, the man I lost. He’s gone for good ‘cause I tried to stall the war Murdock wants so bad, but --
Least I can finish what I fucking started.
Murdock glares, teeth bared. “I don’t have to give you anything.”
“Guess not.” I drop my gaze, focus on the blade. Blood wells up with just a tiny shift in pressure, almost black against the kid’s brown skin. Paints slick trails around the bruises on his neck. Kid’s silent, doesn’t move a fucking muscle. His eyes meet mine, calm as summer seas.
Air’s too thick, heavy in my lungs. Hands wanna shake, takes all my strength to hold ‘em still.
Murdock’s carved from fucking stone, a true Majerian. Folds his beefy arms across his chest and stares me down. “Why stop there?” He shakes his head. “Go ahead, cut deeper. Bleed him dry, for all I care. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
I swallow hard, mouth dry as desert dunes. “But he’s… your fucking kid.”
“He’s expendable.”
Kid goes stiff against me, lets out this little squeak. My hold on him relaxes and I stroke his hair with frozen fingers. Pulse pounds in my ears, throat closes up. No choice now, no way out --
Devin, sweetheart. Breathe.
I blink, remember why I’m here. Strain to hear that soft, sweet voice and let it ground me. Force myself to breathe in deep, be strong for him. I push the kid away, mouth one word at him:
Run.
“Everyone’s expendable,” I whisper when he’s gone.
I lift my shirt, reveal the wires bundled nice and neat above my shattered heart. Those ice-chip eyes of Murdock’s widen, fixed on my homemade bomb. His hand creeps toward his blaster and I grip my knife, white-knuckled. Raise it up and press its blade against my throat.
“Guess what happens if I fucking die,” I croak.
Can smell the stench of his carnivore breath, feel it hot on my face. Heart’s in my throat, stomach right behind it. I gulp ‘em back, keep my knife hand steady. Keep my eyes on his, searing blue and all but shooting sparks. World goes dim, him and me and nothing else.
“Let go of him, you Umani piece of shit,” he growls, like I didn’t already hear him.
I smirk, my arm still tight around the kid. “Gotta give me what I want first, General.”
Course he can’t, not really. Can’t give me back the man I love, the man I lost. He’s gone for good ‘cause I tried to stall the war Murdock wants so bad, but --
Least I can finish what I fucking started.
Murdock glares, teeth bared. “I don’t have to give you anything.”
“Guess not.” I drop my gaze, focus on the blade. Blood wells up with just a tiny shift in pressure, almost black against the kid’s brown skin. Paints slick trails around the bruises on his neck. Kid’s silent, doesn’t move a fucking muscle. His eyes meet mine, calm as summer seas.
Air’s too thick, heavy in my lungs. Hands wanna shake, takes all my strength to hold ‘em still.
Murdock’s carved from fucking stone, a true Majerian. Folds his beefy arms across his chest and stares me down. “Why stop there?” He shakes his head. “Go ahead, cut deeper. Bleed him dry, for all I care. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
I swallow hard, mouth dry as desert dunes. “But he’s… your fucking kid.”
“He’s expendable.”
Kid goes stiff against me, lets out this little squeak. My hold on him relaxes and I stroke his hair with frozen fingers. Pulse pounds in my ears, throat closes up. No choice now, no way out --
Devin, sweetheart. Breathe.
I blink, remember why I’m here. Strain to hear that soft, sweet voice and let it ground me. Force myself to breathe in deep, be strong for him. I push the kid away, mouth one word at him:
Run.
“Everyone’s expendable,” I whisper when he’s gone.
I lift my shirt, reveal the wires bundled nice and neat above my shattered heart. Those ice-chip eyes of Murdock’s widen, fixed on my homemade bomb. His hand creeps toward his blaster and I grip my knife, white-knuckled. Raise it up and press its blade against my throat.
“Guess what happens if I fucking die,” I croak.
no subject
I love everything about this piece but ugh my fucking heart when Devin hears Jazz's voice like. Fuck you for that. Fuck you so hard.
Also Devin is still my favorite and this piece is 10000% why. Really. Truly. I just wish he'd let the poor reader know that Kalen's actually in on this plan but I do like that he told him to run and let him go. <3
Also also I know this isn't exactly what you set out to write but I love the tag I DON'T CONTROL MY CHARACTERS because it's so fucking trueeee omg. <3
no subject
Devin is only my favorite when I don't have to write him. And DAMMIT, I knew there was more context I wanted to poke him with and see if he'd let me fit it in somewhere. Although he seemed pretty dead set on pretending he didn't know Kalen, so -- DAMMIT. Was that supposed to be a big, twisty reveal?
*sigh* They never tell me these things. I knew I was missing something.
But yes, dat tag. It is accurate. Someday, I'll write the scene I intend to write. xD
no subject
no subject
This entry is part of a larger story, and while I'm not intentionally writing an LJI serial, bits of this 'verse always decide to show up here. I can never figure out how to cram in the right amount of context to make a stand-alone piece.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thanks for reading. Or apologies or something, idek.
no subject
Oh wow! I really enjoyed the twist in the end. Nice work.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Your own child should not be expendable. When you run into someone who feels that way, you know the only life they value is their own. Devin at least came well-prepared for that.
no subject
Your own child really shouldn't be expendable. I tend to process a lot of my own issues through my characters; have you noticed? ;-) It's honestly never intentional. They just end up with these horrific parents. Wes has very nice parents, mostly. Kind of? His daddy issues are in a different story somewhere.
I was going to say something snarky about how Devin is always prepared, kind of like a girl scout. But really he's just operating based on his own experiences and his personal understanding of parental loyalty, I guess.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Huge kudos!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject