NAME'S JAZZ, BITCH!

           NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP! // NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN!

                     swap!au pico of friday night funkin' || penned by kitty.

     " why th’ hell is every otha’ version of me so off their meds? th’ fuck is this a psych ward? “ 

     "  HAPPY  BIRTHDAY,  BABE!! “  the door is barely even open by the time jazz pops out from where he was hiding behind the kitchen counter, setting off a silent party popper that sent blue confetti everywhere. he hoped that this would be a fun way to celebrate the occasion, since he thought agent deserved something fun for this occasion. 

      " .... so .... what’s hell like? “ jazz asks absent-mindedly, all too aware that the question could be seen as rude. but, with jazz’s experiences with life, especially the more recent ones, he made the decision that being blunt && upfront with people was the best way to be. being nice wasn’t exactly the best for him, since more often than not, it ended with him nearly being killed. might as well be forward && deal with the consequences of that instead.  

      a soft chuckle, as jazz’s hands tuck into the pockets of his jacket. perhaps it was immature of him, but he always liked making conversations with people. a social butterfly was a great term to describe the musician with. after all, hard to become a musician if you weren’t prepped to be in the public image. “ i’ve met a few demons, actually! “ they all tended to be total assholes! 

      he hesitated for a moment, remembering the red-headed she-demon that nearly sent him to hell. not exactly a memory he held fondly, but it was what he thought of when he looked at this guy. maybe demons just tended to all look alike, he didn’t know. “ ‘dunno if they’re all like the chick i met, since, ay, can’t judge every demon based off one meetin’ with one, amirite? “ 

@endurehell​​ gets a starter.

oh god. oh fuck. oh shit.     “  don’t get close to me you harlot -  ”     he’s moving away.

                                                         “  bruh.  ”

#ೃ⁀➷   『  you say i love you like its an apology. |  agent. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  who posted my nudes on TWITTER DOT COM?! |  ooc. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  cause i just wanna die before my heart falls | isms. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  but i’m gonna be my OWN rock && roll | aesthetics. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  maybe you’ll cry once you know i’m gone. |  cyan. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  tell myself i’m more then the mistakes i’ve outrun. | vi. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  && i just wanna feel your love before it disappears | vi. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  only here for a minute && don’t care what you say  | dash com. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『 highlights to want to repeat; lets get away from here | promos. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  white lies flying high like a ceasefire | headcanon. 』

#ೃ⁀➷   『  once you get a taste; no; you’ll never be the same | music. 』

        he’d never moved that fast in his entire life, he doubted he could ever move with such inhuman speed again either. it was the speed && desperation of a man who thought his boyfriend was dead, the frantic search for wherever he’d left his keys on the counter, everything but keith forgotten. keith, keith, he had to see keith. oh god, what was he going to do without keith? he couldn’t be dead -- couldn’t be dying as he drove there. 

        he remembered begging with the doctor who he’d met in the hospital, please. please god don’t let his boyfriend die. he remembered praying to every god he could think of as he waited in that waiting room, don’t take his keith away, PLEASE. GOD. when the doctors had told him keith was stable, that he’d make it he had broken down into sobs. he had survived, he was going to be okay. they were going to make it through this. he still remembered the look on keith’s face when he woke up -- when he heard himself for the first time. 

        he sees the glint of metal, oh god, not like this. “ w-wait -- DON’T -- “ choked out jazz, shoving himself away from the intruder with such a force that he almost ran into the back of his bedframe. the gun, one he thought would be aimed at him, was tossed aside, though. a violent shudder ran through jazz as he placed a hand to his chest, where he’d expected a bullet to enter not a moment or two prior. but, the clatter of the gun comes instead, making him flinch in surprise. such a stark contrast to the silence that consumed the room otherwise, how could it not scare him?

        jazz remembers pressing kisses against one of keith’s shaking hands, pouring out every ounce of love in his heart to him in whispers that were only broken up by sobs. knowing he had survived, knowing he was awake -- it had filled pico with such visceral relief that nothing else had mattered. nothing else ever would have mattered. but nothing good could ever last .. he had at least hoped keith could’ve been happy out there somewhere -- even if he wasn’t with him for it. 

        a tired noise escaped the musician as he shifted in bed, rolling over to his side as he tried to re-enter whatever dream he had been experiencing before waking up. whatever it had been, he was sure it had to have been at least decent. yep, annnny second now, && he would be right back in his perfect dreamland -- waiting for it!

        god dammit. jazz groaned in frustration, stretching himself out all the way. just enough that he could feel something at the end of his bed -- something heavy. had he left some of his equipment there..? no -- he put everything away before he went to bed, he knows he did. jazz tiredly moved to prop himself up a bit -- && that’s when he saw it. or, well, that’s when he saw him.

        his entire body tensed up -- locking him in place the millisecond he put the dots together. someone was in his house. someone was sitting at the fucking foot of his bed. after the past few weeks, that wasn’t something to be taken lightly. but he couldn’t see who it was. his eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, once a blessing, now seen as a damn hindrance. this person, whoever they were, could kill him! they could have killed him the entire time he’d been asleep! how had he not heard them come in.. had he left the door unlocked?

        jazz stayed completely motionless, not even breathing as he tried to will his eyes to adjust. adjust, dammit, adjust. but -- once they had, he wishes they hadn’t. onl when he recognizes whose sat at the foot of his bed, albeit barely, jazz blearily blurts out the first thing he can think of. “ wh -- keith? “

        of course he would recognize keith -- he knew every inch of keith like the back of his hand. the amount of times the two had laid in bed together was astronomical. too many nights spent making jokes to him as he tried to sleep; mornings waking him up to tell him he’d made him breakfast. but -- he as sure that keith -- no -- cyan was here for a bad, bad reason.  “ i .. what  are  you .. “  clearly jazz is too tired for this, but he’s scared. he’s just waiting for the assassin to reveal a gun -- to point it to his head -- to pull the trigger. 

@beep-bo-bop​ gets a starter.