#michael trojan

[the-river-rix]

Take the silly bandstand writing warm up I did I don’t like it but I feel like I should expose more bandstand fanfic to the world

Tw for panic attacks/flashbacks and war stuff

Donny played piano, slamming on the keys over and over again. The notes created a dissonant, jagged melody, wild, maniac, and haunting all at once. When he hit a chord his entire body moved with the force of it. His legs would jolt, his arms would shake, and his breath would falter. He played quickly, violently, mimicking the relentless onslaught of gunfire. His head shook back and forth, side to side, as he played. His lips moved endlessly, making words without sound. His eyes darted around the small, clammy apartment.

“Nova!”

He scrambled to find it, fumbling in the slick mud. His hands slid as he kept frantically clawing for the grenade he’d let slip through his grasp.

“GET OUT!”

He was rolling down the hill, his body battered by every single crevice and dent in the ground. His breath rattled out of his chest. Pain jolted through his ribs. There was a burning deep in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, faintly registering tears on his cheeks.

He prayed. He didn’t know who he was praying to. To god, to Michael, to himself. He prayed that Michael was rolling down the hill behind him, safe.

He made the worst mistake of his life and turned around.

[burner-of-ships]

The Iliad, trans. Emily Wilson // The Iliad, trans. E. V. Rieu // Troy, Stephen Fry // The Song Of Achilles, Madeline Miller // Helen Of Troy, Margaret George // Country, Michael Hughes

[soracities]

Michael Bazzett, from "Inside the Trojan Horse", The Echo-Chamber: Poems [transcript in ALT]

[neonmetro]

Hey so just as I sent that other ask, I somewhat remembered what I wanted to include in the other one😓

The Achaeans. . .they are so beautiful, my favorite butches. When I'm in the butch lesbian contest and the Achaeans pull up/j

I want to know more about them, but specifically the man of the hour, the pretty princess and diva Achilles !!!!

I also want to know if throughout any of the stories any Corp head(s) specifically will play at least a somewhat significant role. Gosh I hate them all so much /POS /J /SILLY

I also need an excuse to get more Azazel content because. . .they are amazing !!!

(This part may or may not be straight nonsense)

I don't think I ever talked about it, but I really do love Azazel and Molochs relationship so much. There's so much I could say about their relationship. Especially towards the end when Azazel gets ready to kill Moloch. You can really feel the raw emotion. But also some contradictory? It might be me reading it all types of wrong but when I read it, it didn't really feel like Azazel was really sure if them, themselves was ready to go through with what they wanted to do and I honestly love that so much. The whole interaction made my heart heavy and I love it, when Azazel really lays in on thick to Moloch, the words used, the painful reality of it all, the shift of blame honestly I could go on and on about their relationship, but I'll stop to spare my fingers and to spare you from an essay or over analyzing. I really want to see more of those two, they are so cute and silly !!!

Also if I was collecting it right, Abaddon and Arakiel worked together or at least tolerated each other for a short amount of time. I want to know more about how they work together.

I also have to pay my respects to my absolute monarchs, Reficul and Chemosh. . .I love them so much god. . .also I snuck Peneume into my last ask but since this is more Project Martyr targeted than I expected, uh I love Peneume and they serve so hard man. . .always the cunty characters that die first smh. I know they don't have a whole lot about them, but they really are just amazing. Their design makes me just go "awww shucks your so pretty *twirls hair*" Peneume fanclub over here/SILLY

Thank you as always for putting up with my rambling soldier, I salute you🫡

-Ulysses loving anon

HELPPP hello again ulyanon. welcome back

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BUTCHES THE ACHAEANS!!! SHOUTOUT TO THEIR LESBIAN SWAG!!!!! ofc... i can tell you about achilles :) our beautiful princess <3

achilles' soul is in his heel, but usually no one even tries Thinking about hitting him there, but its also the most protected part of his body (paris only manages to kill him by gaining a direct contract of his own with apollo and partially overkilling (that guy is not built for war))

his magical girl clothing is Different from what it'd normally be.

instead of just normal flesh fabric, the flesh separates into nanomachines first before forming fabric. it definitely doesn't feel like fabric, but resembles it. like those 3d printed shit yk?

and he needs constant maintanence bc his ass is so zoomy that he constantly trips and falls and they need repairs, at first it was just his parents but peleus saw that achilles latched onto this Lonely Ass Kid he has in his glorified orphanage he was like yes. i will teach you how to repair my son if he is ever hurt. and patroclus is just like 7 years old

another achilles fact, his nanomachines are able to become as fast as sound (i like song of achilles' reoccuring theme of patroclus' lyre so. adding that in.) and during his encounter with hector, he uses the river that he filled w bodies to disable him even tho hector can be as fast as the speed of light since sound travels faster in the ocean

achilles is kind of stupid bitch. i'm not going to lie. patroclus admires his effortless beauty and finds his stubbornness endearing but also it is ultimately achilles' downfall. he's incredibly immature (refuses to do anything he doesn't want to do, insults everyone, etc) when he isn't entirely anti-social but also he is literally only 15 and even when he's 25 by the time the human urge to kill everything starts, he's still a child soldier to prevent his best friend and partner from risking his own life

i am changing how achilles got into the war to begin with, but if it were following more like the original, ulydio probably would've blackmailed him by saying he was a coward rather than the fact that he was wearing a dress (because frankly they are all serving too much cunt to be saying shit from ancient greece)

in novaturi, agamemnon directly threatens patroclus' life to make achilles spiral into blanket mode and refuse to fight and him letting patroclus fight in his place is just him being so wrapped up in his anger rather than the whole briseis situation (which. you know was the whole point why he started fighting... but he got so wrapped up in his own anger and the audacity of agamemnon to realize that).

briseis is just a hostage and achilles was trying to reason with agamemnon after his own hostage and spoils of war were stolen

patroclus was also the only one contracted to fight, but achilles took his place instead, and patroclus ended up being a repair guy for the achaeans' weapons and achilles

i'll also emphasize how thesis is NOT against patroachilles like in a certain book (i do take a lot of elements of their relationship/inspo from that book but i generally do not like how miller portrays women). she loves her son very much and just has her son's best interest in mind, and if even if he decides to pick some soggy wet loser that's his choice not her's

the corpheads will!! currently trying to make sure all the corpheads will have at least some spotlight but it's a tad difficult considering there are 12 of them and 4 stories so some Will seep out in the cracks and i haven't really started revamping PO's story

aishire and ulysses are the main focus of THUTKE, but aishire is a major background factor of machina mortem

veraswamy plays a somewhat prolific role in aishire's side of THUTKE

dante is featured in the last chapter of apocalypse equos and the last arc of pink overkill

vergil is a background ish character in PO

beatrice MAY have a role in AE

i'm considering giving lancelot a side story in THUTKE? but may have a minor role in PO unsure

estouls has a minor role in apocalypse equos (they haven't been incorporated yet, but i've been thinking of doing so for a bit. maybe on the recruiters' side bc telemachus is currently on the verge of being sacked)

ilya has a minor role in MM, might also have one in AE and PO

junius may have a role in MM as set design. unsure

beowulf might have a role in AE

as mentioned earlier, uly is the main main focus of THUTKE but might have a minor role in 2 other stories as a background character (AE for telemachus, PO intervening and collecting a horsemen. who knows)

YESSS....!!! YOU GET IT !!!!! azazel is absolutely conflicted about killing everything about their life and they have to reassure themselves that this IS the correct choice to get what they want. they've essentially deluded themselves into thinking that they have to destroy everything about themselves before rebuilding themselves, but ultimately azazel does not have the stomach to kill people they used to like.

abaddon and arakiel are parallels to azazel and moloch, though if it were a little bit more fucked. they work together but only tolerating one another while pursuing their own goals. abaddon originally found arakiel already on the verge of death on a vagabond site, and basically gave them an ultimatum to help them do their dirty work and they won't kill them (a slight twist on azazel and moloch's introduction, except azazel never made it clear to moloch that they had bad intentions)

abaddon's already a husk of who they used to be, and they don't even want to live, they just want to survive the killing game in order to later kill aishire. everyone that they kill is just practice on how they could manipulate their way into killing aishire. arakiel is blind to abaddon's own manipulation of them, fully convinced that abaddon is literally not a threat because of how, to put it bluntly, dead abaddon is. arakiel is much more sure of their identity and believes their world view is absolute, but is ultimately betrayed by abaddon, unable to complete any of their goals. abaddon has little to no regard of who they discard or kill. abaddon and arakiel are kind of like bad ends to azazel and moloch, unafraid to cross the line and desecrate memories.

i think its fun to throw in parallels for characters :) they run into each other a lot once moloch is awake

i love them so much too bro.... their designs are my favs they're just so pretty

it makes a bit more sense in story but the first five members of project martyr (+ michael) were woken up first during the killing game and were quarantined together to get the ball rolling and prevent the show from being two short so they had . a lot more extra time to be traumatized together

reficul has a weird ass relationship with the dead wife and is kind of considering divorce but also is afraid to lose genesis a second time. chemosh is just kind of haunted by everything and wishes to isolate themselves and create a safe space for themselves.

(like one joke audio clip and one batman video has spiraled into me making reficul and genesis kind of crazy radioactive yxxi)

peneume the lawyer you are..........

[andreilslovechild]

Chinese Zodiac x AFTG

A lovely little post for @stick-ball to make up for not liking Sense8. since this relies on birthdays i will only be doing characters whos birthdays i can find and or headcanon to be specific times.

The Foxes:

Dan: Wood Ox

Kevin: Fire Tiger

Andrew: Fire Tiger

Matt: Fire Tiger

Aaron: Fire Tiger

Seth: Water Dog

Allison: Wood Ox

Nicky: Water Pig

Renee: Water Dog

Neil: Fire Rabbit

Wymack: Earth Dog (based on HC)

Abby: Earth Monkey (based on HC)

Bee: Earth Monkey (based on HC)

The Ravens:

Riko: Fire Tiger

Jean: Fire rabbit (based on an HC that his birthday is December)

Nathaniel: Fire Rabbit

Extras:

Jeremy: Wood-Ox (most likely based on age

Laila: Wood Ox (based on her likely age due to school year and HC that her birthday is in the summer)

Catalina: Fire Tiger (once again based on likely age due to school year and HC that she is a winter baby)

Ichirou: Wood Ox

Thanks to The Cult TM for helping me figure out ages and hc's for the characters that don't have canon birthdays or ages <3333

[randofanficrecs]

Today's random fic comes from the Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & TaylorNavigation and Actions fandom, Pulled Me Apart (I'm So Open) by aintweproudriff

Chapters: 3/3 Words: 4,674 Fandom: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Johnny Simpson/Davy Zlatic, Nick Radel/Wayne Wright, Donny Novitski/Julia Trojan, past Donny Novitski/Michael Trojan Characters: Davy Zlatic, Johnny Simpson, Donny Novitski, Julia Trojan, Nick Radel, Wayne Wright, Jimmy Campbell Additional Tags: Sharing a Bed, cliches, canon typical nightmares and trauma, canon typical alcoholism, the whole dnb is gay and there's nothing you can do about it Language: English Summary: "They did make their way up to the room, Davy holding out hope the whole way up that Donny had been wrong about his mistake and the two of them were actually getting a room with two beds. Upon opening the door, however, Davy had to let go of that wish. One bed, clear as day." OR I love to write tropes

[rainbowpopeworld]

We’re now at almost 15 months and it’s still the same 😅🎉

Almost 7 months and the brainlichen are still in control 😈😇

[anjelicawrites]

The one looking out for you

Paring: dark!Michael Gavey x fem!reader Synopsis: fill for this ask: “Hii can I request a dark Michael gavey x fem reader smut where they're coworkers and reader don't really know Michael because he works in IT and they only pass each other here and there but Michael is obsess with reader and one day he overhears reader telling a coworker that she's ovulating but her fiancé (who's been cheating on her without her knowledge) is out of town and they've been trying for a baby. Michael digs up dirt on her fiance and leaks the info anonymously and then he "coincidently" finds her crying and kinda drunk and he "comforts" reader”. Warnings: NONCON (reader is drunk while having sex), rape, rape drugs, stalking, obsession, sexist language, fatphobia, pictures and videos taken without reader’s consent, vomiting, alcohol usage, reader being drunk, p in v sex, chocking, titty sucking, fingering, creampie, baby trapping, breeding kink, lactation kink, talk of reader reduced to a basement wife, talk of pregnancy sex. A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, she/her pronouns used.

Michael knows how special you are, how gentle you heart is; he sees you in all the ways other people don’t. Some might call his behavior obsessive, stalkerish even, but the world doesn’t understand that, when you finally find your person, you need to take all the necessary steps to keep that person safe. Take today, for example. You had worked overtime, your team leader needing your expertise for the latest company project, and are going home just now, after 9 pm on a cold winter night. You should wait for the bus, or hail a cab, but you’re too tired to wait and just want to go home thus cutting through the city park. Michael knows because he’s following the GPS of your phone, to make sure nothing happens to you, and is using the speakers of your phone to hear what’s happening around you and call the cops if someone tries to approach you.

He shouldn’t have cloned your phone, he knows it’s frowned upon, but you pull shit like this: how is he supposed to keep you safe? You are too gentle, too trusting of the world and in need of a protector, someone who will really look after you, not like your useless fiancé, who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, nor he loves you, otherwise he wouldn’t be having an affair with the girl living in the next door apartment. The discovery had been casual, the Trojan he used to clone your phone had infected your fiancé’s as well and Michael had been the unwilling witness to his sexual escapades with that whore. He had been so disgusted by the way the asshole talked about you, that he would have disconnected from the phone, if he wasn’t digging for dirt on him.

Michael knows he’s invisible, he’s always been: no friends, no girlfriend, only him and his brilliant mind; when he was younger he had suffered because no one acknowledged him, now he understands he has a superpower that helps him navigate corporate life, absorbing all the relevant information, without anyone realizing what he’s doing.

You greet him whenever you stumble upon him in the corridors, still grateful he solved a computer issue you had the day of a big presentation, the reason why he’s met you in the first place and every gentle smile you direct his way, adds fuel to the fire of his obsession. He’s racked his own brains for days, after that first fateful encounter, wondering how he could start a conversation with you, cloning your phone had been the only way he thought he could find something you two had in common. It saved him a gaffe, when he saw all the photos with your fiancé, and gave him so much insight inside your brain, to understand you were the woman for him; of course you are far more creative that he’ll ever be, your soul gentler than his, but you are smart and being so different will only add to you two’s relationship, once he’s gotten rid of your boyfriend.

Michael is working on the new firewall, hidden in his own basement office. He’s thankful that the other IT people are misanthropes as he is and don’t mind that he’s working with his headphones on, on the contrary, everyone is wearing headgear to focus better on their task, the difference being, he’s listening to you. Your day is slow, with the big project finished, you and your team can kick back a bit, have a chat while ironing the last wrinkles.

Michael has been listening while you were chatting with that stupid cow, Marissa, about the last movie you’ve watched at that theater that shows mostly old black and white flicks; Michael has managed to garner quite the knowledge about old time Hollywood and Cinecittà and has discovered a fondness for old Hammer movies himself, even though the movies he prefers the most star you while you’re pleasuring yourself (something you’re doing quite frequently, since the asshole doesn’t seem to be that interested in you anymore), the theater? Your webcam and your apartment.

His focuses his attention when you go to have a coffee with your ‘work wife’ Jenny; through your phone he hears that you two are going downstairs, to the cafeteria of the building: one day you and him will do the same, pick a place to call your own, just to have a break. You have only bought your phone with you, it’s easy for him to listen to the inane chat, even though the cafeteria is packed; he’s not truly focusing on the conversation, just to the sound of your lovely voice as you wait for your coffee (espresso, a splash of oat milk and half sugar) and your favorite pastry (pain au chocolat, vegan); it’s when the asshole’s name drops that he stops working and focus only on you.

“You know we’ve been trying truly hard, at least we used to.” You say with a defeated tone he doesn’t like. “Then we stopped for his big project, I understand that he couldn’t follow that and my hormonal cycle.”

Michael grits his teeth; he’s been looking out for you for the better part of the year, before? He wasn’t your guardian angel and it had been difficult for him to put together the pieces, since you don’t use that many apps to store your personal life and information.

“Wait.” Jenny stops you. “Wasn’t he the one who wanted to start trying again?” “Yes.” From your tone only Michael can imagine you pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s been repeating me to check my ovulation, write everything down or use those pregnancy like sticks, and what does he do the weekend I am at my peak? Leaves for work!”

Michael has to clench his fists when he understands what you and Jenny are talking about: children. You and the asshole having a baby!

Michael has to leave his small office and storms to the bathroom where he can pace around like a caged beast: that son of a bitch wants to knock you up, while he’s having an affair with the whore next door?

Calm, he tells himself, you need to stay calm and focused.

“What kind of trip is that?” He hears Jenny ask. “Work. His firm is trying to promote a new kind of prosthesis during this orthopedics conference; he has to be there.” “Why can’t you go with him? Take the weekend off? You wouldn’t be the only partner to go, I think”. “There have been some issues.” Your voice lowers conspiratorially. “Some of his colleagues had gone with their mistresses, on firm expenses and now all family members are banned from going.” “Hmm.” Jenny doesn’t seem too convinced. “Are you sure he wants to truly try?

Michael hears you sigh and wished he was there, not in this stupid bathroom!

“We are more distant. I keep telling myself that we had to both work on big projects at the same time, that we were forced to focus on work more than we would have liked and that, after the storm, things would go back to normal.”

Michael hears you sniff and the soft sound of Jenny’s hand on yours.

“What’s your gut feeling, love?” She asks, with a quiet voice. “That is not a storm and that he’s asked to try for a baby again because he doesn’t know how to handle all of this.” “Perhaps him going away for the weekend isn’t such a bad thing.”

Michael likes Jenny, she’s smart, calls IT only when she has a real issue and treats all of them like they are people, not the weird nerds hiding in the basement; he reckons Jenny is a bit of a nerd as well, based on the Star Trek knickknacks on her desk. Yes, when you and him are together, she’s one of the friends he’ll advise you to stick with: you’ll have to drop many of them, too stupid for you, and for him, but not Jenny, she can stay.

Michael hides in one of the stalls and opens the secret app on his phone where he keeps all your photos and videos. Some are racy, you pleasuring yourself using your favorite dildo and clit sucker, your sobs of pleasure going straight to his cock every time, but that’s not what he is looking for as his thumb swipes through all the pics he has, until he’s found the one he loves the most: you on the sofa, dressed in an oversized jumper, as you read your book. You look homely, the picture of what he wants your lives to be: quiet and filled with each other’s presence, you two don’t need anyone else, Or perhaps...

His mind goes back to the conversation he’s just heard. Michael doesn’t truly care for children but for you? He’ll give you a soccer team of babies if only you asked, fuck you full of his cum until he’s sure he’s bred you, only to fuck you some more once you’re full. His finger slides through the photos until he finds one of you in your bathing suit, just to imagine your tummy full of his child and your breast swollen with milk, begging to be sucked: yeah, the idea of knocking you up becomes more and more appealing as the minutes pass. He just needs to make sure the asshole doesn’t manage before he does.

Michael goes back to his cubicle with a lighter heart, now that he knows what the stakes are; he even whistles his favorite song as he orders a bouquet of the flowers you love (white callas and light pink lilies), to have them sent to your workstation: this has been his only outward way to express his feelings for you and today you need something nice to look at, after your heartfelt conversation with Jenny. As he focuses again on the firewall, Michael mentally pats himself on the back for having cloned the asshole's phone by mistake: you will have to know what is going on, it will hurt you, but he’s going to be there for you, unlike your fiancé.

Later that night, Michael is storing all he has on the asshole on the USB pen he’s bought on the way back to his small apartment; as one of the computers is working on the background, out of curiosity he checks if what the asshole has told you about the ban on partners going to conventions is true or not: if he’s lying, he’s going to add to the mountain of proofs he has, if not, well, it means that even him plays fair sometimes.

He stares at the desktop, before clicking on his browser icon: obviously is a picture of you, a selfie you’ve taken on holiday; you look so relaxed and happy, the shadows the straw hat you’re wearing paint on the skin of your cleavage are so elegant: he’s never met a woman who can be classy even when wearing a skimpy bikini. You are truly a Goddess among your kind, the best and the smartest, created just for him. He hopes you’ll let him snap racy pictures of you, once you two are together; nothing obscene or pornographic, just to celebrate your beauty and grace. Michael thinks he will be able to convince you, otherwise something in your water to make sure you’re pliant will make do.

You don’t want to be at this stupid office party. Yes, your last project was a success, all your colleagues want to celebrate, but you are in no mood, thanks to your cheating, asshole of a boyfriend.

You don’t know who sent you the USB pen, you’re not sure you’ll ever thank them for opening your eyes, but the truth is in front of you and you have no way to stop knowing what has been happening behind your back; given the chance, would you rather not have received the envelope and the USB? Nursing your umpteenth cocktail you’re not sure of the answer.

The envelope was white and lacked a return address, which was unusual but not overly so: the local Catholic Church leaves leaflets when Christmas and Easter are near, to promote the activities during these periods of time, never envelopes but you thought they were changing their strategies and opened it once you were home, alone as usual. The USB had surprised you, the printout of the reservation made of your fiancé and the girl next door, for the conference, propelled you to the bathroom, where you threw up your lunch and afternoon snack.

There was another message, smaller, that invited you to check the USB pen in your hand, if you wanted to know the truth; you stayed rooted on the spot for the longest time, torn between wanting to ignore everything, or let the bomb explode. Time passed, punctuated by the old clock in the kitchen, until you made up your mind, and choose the latter, you’re a daughter of Pandora after all, and plugged the USB in your computer: a barrage of text, photos and audio messages attacked you, you managed to go through a small percentage of them, before you had to run to the bathroom to throw up again, your stomach churning bile until you had nothing left to give. After this onslaught you cried with your knees tight against your chest, until you felt so tired you’d sleep on the cold bathroom floor, but you forced yourself to go back to the living room and went through all the proofs of your fiancé’s infidelity with the whore next door.

You didin’t know your personal guardian angel was listening to everything and looking using the smart TV you’ve bought last year. Michael’s heart hurt with your pain, he wished he was there to comfort you; if only you had waited for him, instead of being with the asshole, he wouldn’t have to make you go through all of this. It was your fault for not having faith that your true love was waiting for you: you’ll go through this cathartic experience and then be free to start your new life, the one Michael will tailor for you, and for himself.

With gritted teeth he watched the fight you have with the asshole, all the excuses he spewed, and then the insults against you, before he left slamming the door. He saw you angrily drink and cry until you passed out on the couch and he stayed up all night, watching you through the TV to make sure you were still breathing. It hurt him that you were hurt, but it was the price to pay for a better future.

You have been on autopilot for the rest of the week: went to work, where you used a mere fraction of your attention on the last details of the finished project, and then returned home to cry. You fiancé, better, former fiancé at this point, didn’t even try to patch things up with you, on Thursday, after you returned from work, all his stuff had disappeared and he hadn’t even left a note or sent you a message. You truly spiraled after that, called your best friend and wept on the phone for hours, until you head hurt; on a whim you had even thought about not going to work on Friday, but you couldn’t, not with the presentation of the bloody project and the celebration party afterwards. You decided to settle with finishing the alcohol at home and sent disparaging texts to your ex, who never answered them (little you knew that your own guardian angel had to do with that, and with the fact that he had disappeared with all his belongings; that was not something Michael thought you needed to worry your pretty head with).

You played your part on Friday, said your little spiel and shook hands on command, wore a fake smile for everyone to see, until you could hide in the conference room, nursing glasses after glasses of cheap alcohol, until you felt like enough time had passed to return home.

You’re sitting at the big desk, facing morosely the incredible view from such a high floor, with a glass and bottle you’ve taken from the open bar. You’re drunk, it's so easy to ignore the little voice in your head that’s telling you to stop, call a Uber and go home when your tummy is sloshing with alcohol. You’re so detached from your body that the door opening with a small creak doesn’t scare you.

“I thought nobody was here.”

You turn your head slowly and feel the strain of your eyes as they focus on the intruder. On first sight you don’t recognize him, then his name comes back to you Michael, one of the IT guys who solves all your technical issues. You’ve met him a couple of times, once when Marissa had some issued with her computer. You had felt bad for the guy, who had to come upstairs to simply turn the switch Marissa had swore was already on the right position. He had said something nasty about your colleague under his breath, ‘vapid cunt’, or something among those lines, as he was leaving. You didn’t approve of his language, but understood his frustration: he probably had to deal with stupid accidents like that all the time, his patience must have slipped; you had stopped him before he entered the lift and said you were sorry on your colleague’s behalf. You could have sworn his eyes had focused on you, behind his tick glasses, as if he was assessing you, judging you, but it was just a moment, then his blue eyes seemed to clear and you had repeated yourself that you have been consuming too much true crime, if such an innocuous man could cause weird thoughts in your head.

You had seen him around, he had saved your arse when your computer stopped working the day of a big presentation, tall and gangly, and always greeted him with a smile and a wave, which he would awkwardly respond to: he was one of the many people you knew, but weren’t truly friends with.

“Hi.” You try to sound sober. “Far from the madding crowd as well?”

Ok, you tell yourself, that’s not too bad.

Michael gently closes the door, you don’t see it but he locks it as well, before he walks towards you.

“Something like that.”

You stare at him, truly taking his appearance in for the first time. He’s awkward, standing the way he does a couple of chairs away from you, but not ugly: he should dress better and wear more stylish glasses, but he is handsome, in a nerd kind of way; his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue, and he is tall, not imposing but with large shoulders.

“Come.” You say, patting the chair next to you. “Don’t stand where you are. Fancy a drink?”

Almost knocking a chair over, Michael walks where you are and stiffly sits.

“I think I am full for the night.” He answers, when you offer him your own glass. “Are you sure? I’d loathe to drink by myself.” “Sure.” He answers. “Uhm, congratulation with the project.” He adds.

You pour yourself a generous amount of alcohol and drink it down in one go.

“That? Child’s play.” “Still, a great amount of money coming this way.” “Yeah.” You’re suddenly more morose than before. “All I am good for.”

You sway on the chair and distantly feel Michael’s hands, his very large hands, grab you by your shoulders before you can fall.

“I’m fine Mickey boy.” You slur with your face dangerously close to his. “I’m nothing but trash worth kicking anyway!”

You shrug him off and try to keep an upright position.

“Don’t say that about yourself!”

Something in his tone forces your drunken mind to focus on him.

“What do you know?” You bare your teeth at him and he has to keep you upright again. “I’m with this guy for years, years! I turn down the position in the USA office for him! Lose weight! Learn how to cook like his sodden mama and what does he do? He fucks the next door neighbor, that fat cow! I have to starve myself and be shamed when I can’t be a bloody size 8 and he fucks her! Sends her dick picks! Talks shit about me!”

The same way rage had possessed you, it disappears, leaving you a shaking handful of nerves; before you even realize it, you fall against Michael and start crying, fat, inconsolable sobs against his ugly sweater.

Michael holds you tight, reveling in the fact that you are in his arms, never mind the reason: you’ve opened up your heart to him, you’re seeking him for consolation! Not Jenny, not your best friend, but him! Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that Michael is the one for you!

He knows he’s awkward as he caresses your back and tries to murmur soothing words against your hair, but it doesn’t matter, not when all his hard work has come into fruition!

“I’m so sorry.” He hears from the general direction of his chest. “I don’t know what happened.” “That’s fine.” He answers, his arms still caging you. “Truly Michael, I don’t know what possessed me.”

When you finally manage to lift your head from his chest, you stare into his eyes, now dark pools your drunken brain can’t read.

Michael loses himself in your beautiful face and in the pain still marring your features: you need consolation and not the kind that words offer. He hadn’t planned all of this when he had followed you in the conference room, but you are in his arms, needy and sad and his cock is rock hard. You are causing all of this, he tells himself, because you need this and him. And he can’t say no to you.

His big hand sneaks into your hair to pull you closer to him; in your drunken state you don’t realize what’s happening, if not when his lips crash on yours, uncoordinated and dry. You try to push him away, to beg him to stop, but he uses your parted lips to slip his tongue in to deepen the kiss, his free hand grabs your hips and he pulls you on the table, slotting himself between your parted legs, his erection shocking you. When he starts kissing your neck, you try to push him away again, too drunk and weak to manage and he grabs your wrist in his big hand, to push you against the cold glass of the table; his free hand slips under your skirt and his fingers sneak under your panties.

“If you don’t want me, why are you so wet?”

He towers over you, his eyes unreadable behind his glasses and you can’t help but sob again: your drunken brain can’t find an adequate response, your body on fire after such a long time without another person’s touch.

Your body arches when his fingers slip inside your cunt, warm and wet, to fuck your hole hard and fast: he’s seen you masturbate so many times he knows how you like it, how you want his thumb on your clit, how to curl them to find your G spot and bully it, while you trash and cry, your muscles impossibly tight around him. He knows the sounds you’re making, those high pitched sobs that mean you’re close.

“Nooo…” You moan when his fingers leave your body.

Michael’s stare his cold and burns you at the same time, you have to hide your face because you can’t stand it deep into your soul; roughly he forces you to look at him.

“Look at me when I fuck you.” His palm cups your cunt cruelly. “You don’t get to come if you stop staring at me.”

Your drunken mind wants to come, wants an orgasm to take the pain away, it doesn’t matter who gives it to you, as long as your heart stops hurting. Then you will forget all about it.

A scared sound escapes your mouth when his big cock is revealed to you: you’ve never had anything so tick inside of you, you’re scared. Michael seems to revel in the fear he sees in your eyes, he can feel his erection grow with it, the knowledge that you’re finally at his mercy fueling his desire: you’re going to take all of him and be grateful that his seed will grow inside your belly, he’s going to give you all the time to adjust, but he’s coming inside of you and you with him.

Impatient he pulls your shirt and bra out of the way to free your beautiful breasts and he jacks himself faster at the sight of your tits. He bats your hands away when you try to cover yourself and curls one hand around a breast, until you cry out in pain.

“You’re all mine to see.” The vise on your breast is so tight he’s going to leave imprints. “Say it!”

You’re drunk and petrified, you don’t understand where this violence comes from, you just want to come and be done with all of this.

“I’m… I’m all yours to see.” You manage to say with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “It wasn’t so hard.” Michael’s hand travels from your abused tit to your cheek to dry the tears already there. “I want to make you feel good, but you have to behave. Will you be my good girl?”

If you weren’t this drunk you’d fight him off you, scream bloody murder until someone comes to your rescue, but you’re drunk and desperately need all the human connection that you can scrape. You’d never sleep with Michael, not in a million years, but you’re not in your right mind and you just slump against the cool glass, incapable of stopping him.

Michael’s bulbous head nudges your wet entrance, slowly he slides in and groans at how wet you are; he hasn’t had many partners but no cunt has felt as perfect as yours, the ripple of your muscles as your body desperately tries to adjust to his size makes his blood boil, your pained moans and keens spur him on and his pushes become faster and faster, the more your cunt opens up for him. Desperate you try to relax, the pain of his intrusion mixes with pleasure, your drunken mind is confused, your body arches when he bottoms out and your eyes roll in their sockets: you’ve never been so full in your entire life.

Michael has to stop once he is sitting fully inside of you, your hole strangles his cock in ways no other cunt has ever managed, your nipples are erect with the pleasure he’s giving you and you’re making those small sounds that have him want to fuck you hard and fast, but he’s promised you pleasure, and he is no liar. Your tearful eyes are on him as he bends his back to envelope one nipple in his mouth to suck, gently, the other is getting pinched by his long fingers; slowly the pleasure mounts over the pain you’ve been feeling, your drunken body responds to his ministration and you moan, eyes on his as he switches between nipples with satisfied groans, your hips even lift to invite him to move, and he follows your movements, picking up speed when he feels your muscles give up to his ownership of your body.

You moan and keen when he picks up speed and he pulls your legs over his arms to fold you and fuck you faster, your wet cut squelches with every push, his cockhead bullies your G spot mercilessly and you try to squirm away, the pleasure too much and not enough. Michael bends against your body again and kisses you, tongue proprietary in your mouth he snuffs your scream when you come, your cunt so tight around his cock that he follows, copious in your hungry hole, and keeps fucking you, his erection still at full mast, fueled by your desperate sounds of overstimulation: he’s dreamed about this for too long to stop now.

You try to beg, to scream, but his hand around your throat cuts off your desperate prayers, your scratch his wrist and he simply fucks you harder, grinds against your poor clit tighter and your legs kick against his back, spurring him on: he knows you like it hard and even if you don’t? It’s what you’re getting now.

With a groan he pulls out and turns you face first on the table, fast he enters you again and grabs your tits to use your body as leverage to fuck your hole savagely, his hold the only reason your body is still up, your hands try to grab uselessly at the glass, his heavy balls slap against you and pleasure burns through you, painful it courses through your body and you squirm with it, tears falling from your eyes as his cock rapes your hole deeper and deeper, until he comes, panting your insides again, triggering your own orgasm.

You pant, the cold of the table nice against your over heated skin. Distantly you feel Michael’s lips on your nape, he’s leaving small kisses and nibbles on the soft skin, when you try to move you moan, your cunt curling around his still erect cock.

“Michael, please.” You beg, so sore already. “If you didn’t want me, why is your cunt strangling my cock?” He whispers cruelly in your ear.

Michael can’t believe his body can still be in need of yours, but he’s not going to say no, not when your cunt is massaging his erection so deliciously. Fast he removes his cock and plugs your cunt closed with his fingers, he can’t risk his seed to go to waste, not when he’s trying to knock you up; one handed he turns you on your back again and enters your hole with a groan: he’s found his home and he’s not going to leave it.

“Please Michael.” You sob. “I’m so sore!”

He cups your cheek and kisses you again. You submit to his ownership, afraid of triggering his rage; distantly a part of your brain is screaming that you don’t want this, that you should fight him, but you don’t have the strength to, not when you just want to forget your ex for a while ans are so scared of his rage: you will feel dirty afterwards and will drunk yourself in a stupor to forget, but that’s problems for future you, now you can't do anything else, you just want the pain to stop.

“I was too forceful, was I?” Michael caresses your body, already getting used to the feel of your skin under his. “I’ll go slow this time, love. Give me your last one and we’ll stop.”

For now, he thinks. He’s not done with marking all your holes as his.

“Don’t hurt me.” You sob, small and pathetic. “Never.”

His hips move slowly against yours, long and deep pushes that you feel everywhere in your body. His hands are at your breasts again, massaging them in tandem with his pushes inside of you; you squirm, your muscles sore with the abuse he’s subjected you to, your clit inflamed with the way he grinds against it, still sparks of pleasure explode in your muddled brain, your cunt clenches around him, pulling him in tighter and tighter, that he can’t help but grind against you, the image of the ring of his come and yours around his base and the squelch of your hungry hole spurring him on. He’s not going to last long and you’re coming with him again, sucking all your seed inside of you, until it takes. He’s going to fuck you through your pregnancy as well, his hips grind faster when he imagines the added pressure of your full belly and your tits, leaking milk he’s going to be all the happier to suck.

“No Michael please!” You beg when he starts fingering your clit. “Be my good girl.” He groans, punishing you with hard thrusts. “You’re going to come and drain my cock dry, or I’m not going to stop until you do.”

Your body arches at his words, the part of your mind that’s still coherent reels at the realization that he’s been fucking you bareback, your cunt clenches at the thought, tighter and tighter as he fucks your deeper and faster, until you come with a pained sob and he follows you, emptying his balls fully inside of you.

He stays rooted inside of you, willing his seed to take as your muscles massage his soft cock to the point of overstimulation; you’re a mess of tears and ruined make up under him, still too shook after so many orgasms, and he uses your fragility to enact the last part of his plan.

He grabs the glass and bottle still intact after your coupling and fishes for the small packet of drugs he’s bought on less than savory websites (the wonders of the deep web, if one knows where to look) and dissolves one capsule in the remaining alcohol. Gently he raises your head and forces you to drink everything: you need to be pliant for this part, he can’t risk you acting silly if you two meet some coworkers on the way out.

Once you’ve drunk everything, he stays inside of you, just enjoying your body as the drug takes effect, only then he’s going to dress you and help you back to your apartment, where he’s going to fuck you for the whole weekend. Hopefully his purchase will not be needed, but if you misbehave he’ll have to give some more of it, he needs you to be pliant, ready to follow his breeding project. As you stare at him with glassy eyes, Michael decides he’s going to drug you anyway and once the effects drain off your system, hopefully you’ll buy his story, that you two went on a weekend binge of alcohol and sex. If things will go as he’s planned, come Sunday you’ll be embarrassed and he will buy you breakfast and ask you out on a proper date, if you start complaining, then he has to use plan B, the one he had devised when he had found out you had a fiancé. You don’t know it, but if you are going to be a silly goose, he’s going to hide you away in the small farm out in the country he’s bought under a false name (he is a man who needs little to survive and has managed to put away a big sum easily), until he can break you and remake you into his perfect little wife. He will have to lock you in the basement for a time and use the fake posts he’s prepared in advance to justify you disappearing from your life, but he’s positive that’s not going to be needed: you are his other half, after all.

[codename-adler]

Adler's aftg socmed AU Infodump/Lore ✨

some easter eggs, stats, cast, personal faves and everything you didn't ask

→ socmed 'official' cast (but also, aftg show...)

Katya Sitak as Katelyn

Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Wymack

Willem De Schryver as the Minyards

Calahan Skogman as Erik

Sophie Turner as Allison

Matthew Daddario as Kevin

Karol Queiroz as Laila

Cascina Caradonna as Catalina

Varada Sethu as Robin

Michael Johnston as L*cas J*hnson

→ the people’s favorites

i was quite surprised to discover that the most popular parts are 1) first batch of Trojans tweets and *thunder roll* 2) PSU PETS !!! that is simply amazing. a round of applause for Joselito, Splenda, Renesmee and Dot <3<3<3<3 (honorable mention to Andrew's goat and Neil's toaster)

→ special lore/easter egg (adler thinks she is the MCU)

on Cat's profile is the Totally Spies! as her header, because: Laila = Sam (redhead) / Cat = Alex (black hair) / Jeremy = Clover (blonde) it's an inside joke/running gag between them, and for a very short while they call Jean "Mandy" to include him <3

very sad no one picked up on this :((( bad gays, all of you! Aaron knowing and using a Drag Race/Alyssa Edwards implies that AARON WATCHES RUPAUL'S DRAG RACE Y'ALL--think about the consequences guys!!! anyhoo. boo. also a very underrated joke imo.

→ Adler's Wall of Fame of Favorite Moments (and Underrated Jokes) You Should Appreciate More

Rupi Kaur who? No no, I only know Seth Gordon

cannot get over Joselito's face

Neil calling Nicky 'Nicholas' amuses me to no end + do u get how cold that killshot was from Kevin to his precious lil Robin???

Peepaw Gordon in his Alabama enclosure

you guys actually REALLY loved this one--i was really surprised, but i will stand by feral crossten bestfriendisms!

crusty ass coconut from NEIL takes me out every time + Nicky's prose about Allison is so beautiful do you know that???

Doctor + BOL of the year fr fr

ending on a bitter(sweet) note because i cannot get over him. whoever this pinterest baby is, i love you. i am barely holding back from printing out the photo to keep Seth in my wallet. you're the greatest thing we've lost.

[talesfromawannabewriter]

The alternative ending is my type of ending

*Trojan war au?* Adam as Helen of Sparta

Lucifer as Paris

and (maybe) Michael as Menaleaus?

I find this funny because I was just bingeing sarcastic products videos and just watched the video on her lol but I’m so down for that

But im down for all of that

I think the most confusing part is the colors cuz Troy is seen as blue and Spart as red when Mike is Blue and Lucifer is red so,,,, LMAO

Anyway I tried to quickly whip up some art for them/ this week has been very busy so sorry it took a while :’)

They are not up to scale lol Mike and Lucy are supposed to be around chest height (Also I did change my michaels design a bit to fit what I thought menalaeus would look like)

Also small note tho I might also draw this out Adam’s garments are purple but that shade of purple changes throughout the story

Are these clothes highly inaccurate? Yeah but I can’t bring myself to gaf I hate designing stuff. They're not what I wanted or what I wanted to look like but they're here so you get the idea

Anyways the purple starts as a bluish purple to show that Adam is Michael’s. However it’s still purple meaning there is a bit of red in there foreshadowing Lucifer soon to come in Adam’s life

When Adam becomes Adam of Troy the purple becomes reddish purple symbolizing that Adam is now Lucifer’s. However again, still he’s still purple and not red, showing that Adam still has emotional ties to Michael and is still in love which him despite marring Lucifer.

When Adam is taken back to Sparta, the purple turns into true purple as Adam’s heart is equally in love with both Michael and Lucifer. While he is now Adam of Sparta and with Michael once more, Adam still loves Lucifer just as much as he loves Michael. However Lucifer is dead now so yeah.

Ik people think menalaeus as the bad guy but that's like a modern iteration of him to justify Helen and Paris' affair 🧍‍♂️ headass felt bad for him

I think the plot would go as this…? If you wanna see it anyways it’s very abridged and very quick lol

So we have Adam, son of Sera, who is to be betrothed as to settle the crowd of suitors who want him

Adam chooses Michael as the one he wants, and the two get happily married

On the other side we have Lucifer who is dealing with Eve and Lilith on who the most beautiful sorceress is so that they are able to snatch Roo's apple and have the title as most beautiful

Eve promises Lucifer greater power over his nation and to rule the world

Lilith promises Lucifer the heart of the most beautiful mortal which he accepts

As the tale goes on roughly as it does in the tale

Lucy goes to Sparta

Lucy meet Michael and Adam

Adam gets hit with the spell for the succubus that was sent by Lilith. I do think it would be interesting, though, if Lucy also got hit by the succubus to ensure that they fall in love and Lucifer wouldn't back down once he realizes Adam is already married.

Michael leaves Sparta for idk reason, leaving Adam and Lucifer alone.

They steal stuff from heaven and sail off.

Michael returns. The news gets to him, and the start of the war begins.

While the love starts as artificial, fueled by the lust sent on by the succubus, a very real part of Adam does genuinely start falling in love with Lucifer. Lucifer is genuinely very charming. He's a lot of things michael is not but at the same time very familiar.

The succubus influence sort of wanes and they become more conscious of the weight of their affair.

Even under the influence, Adam had begun to regret running away with Lucifer as the war raged on. Not only did he betray his first husband, but he also betrayed Sparta. The was was going on because of him. That spell waned Adam gets very conflicted.

He lives lucifer and is married to him, but he also yearns for michael again.

Adam stays because he does love Lucifer to an extent- he is an excellent lover both romantically and in bed- but also because it's safe. How could michael truly take him back when the war is caused by him and has gone on for so long?

If we follow lucifer getting hit by the succubus as well, he also feels regret as he just stole someone's lover. But also really lives Adam as well and to say the least, followinb paris.. he is a a selfish guy. So um... there's that.

As the tale goes, Lucifer does die- shot from a poisoned arrow from Uriel I guess???

So war goes on Yada yada

Sparta is winning

Trojan horse happens

Sparta wins and Michael goes to find Adam

Michael wishes to shed Adam’s blood with the rage he has from war, but when he sees Adam again, he can’t due to how much he still loves him and takes him back as Adam of Sparta.

Also alternative end cuz I love a good threesome when Michael demands Adam back Lucifer almsot refuses till adam butts in. He can sense a good threesome and Lucifer and Michael meet and agreement to just share lolol happy end :')

[joydoesathing]

After a (lot) of scrolling i found out that u didnt give us a hc post abt the fiancés ;-; (u told us how they met but never any hc on them) so could u possibly give us some hc for them??? :3

i kind of intentionally stalled on my hcs for them since these two are integral to the whole underlying doppel and ddd plot in my eyes

but nonetheless here's the hcs:

Michael

A charismatic man with a friendly and laid-back personality

He is highly intelligent much like his fiancee, but masks it with a humble demeanor

With that said, a lot of his female students and colleagues have a secret , not so secret, crush on him. He does acknowledge this and then respectfully brushes it off

Though some of his closer friends and colleagues do describe that he has "playful and good-willed yet slightly sadistic tendencies" (lil' gremlin energy)

But when it comes down to things he truly cares about , he shows his repressed nature in order to defend them : a cold and unfeeling person who follows the beat of his own drum, no matter how deranged his actions are or may seem

He is aware about his fiancee's role in the Trojan Horse Project but puts his trust in her that she knows what to do next, so he chooses keeps quiet and turns a blind eye for now.

He is aware that if it were to be literally anyone else that isn't already involved of the whole project who figures out his fiancee's role in the whole crisis, they would absolutely condemn her and even be out for her neck . And the people who would excuse her role now are probably ready to throw her under the bus if worst comes to worst.

So he chooses to be there for her, every step of the bloody way, constantly assuring her that his hope for her will never waver.

He deeply despises Keppler and those who blindly follow her every whim and command.

Dr. W

A reserved woman who's not much of a people person

She is known to be a highly intelligent individual, however she can come off as quite standoffish and arrogant because she can be quite critical and is the type to sometimes give unsolicited advice.

She is particularly passionate about science and mathematics and planned to pursue a career in the scientific discovery and research fields since she was a student, however it proved as difficult challenge and an almost unattainable dream due to some strong social biases at the time.

But thankfully, she was able to pursue that dream thanks to Keppler, who volunteered to sponsor her until she attained her doctorate degree. At the time, she was pretty much Keppler's lapdog, as she saw Keppler as the only one who truly believed in her potential as Keppler herself even assigned her as the lead researcher of the upcoming Trojan Horse project.

She would later find herself deeply regretting for ever feeling that way. She slowly came to realize the atrocities and lengths that her director was willing to make for the sake of the success of the project.

She felt guilty for the blood that has been spilt in the name of the project. She felt guilty for have once willingly turned a blind eye to the obvious red flags. She came to be very disappointed at herself for being blinded her admiration and respect for that woman.

Her current course of action is to continue to work under her, but also find her own way how to eventually stop Keppler in secret.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 42

PREV

There are things that change a person.

Moments where after they happen they simply cannot un-happen. Things that a person hears that they cannot un-hear. Promises that a person makes that they can’t, and perhaps even wouldn’t, un-make.

Jeremy’s moment came over winter break the previous year. Jeremy heard things that he could never un-hear in the middle of the night. Jeremy made a promise that he would never break while in the guest room of his parent’s house holding one Jean Moreau tight as he talked about the Nest.

Jeremy was different after that night.

Not wildly different. Not to most.

The only ones who knew had also had a moment, had also heard things, and had also made promises that they intended to keep.

Jeremy is on his way back from the bathroom with a freshly washed handkerchief from the Fox’s most promising Freshman when it all happens. 

He watches Richard throw a glass on the ground and go for Caleb’s throat which in all honesty he had been anticipating since he’d seen the seating arrangements. Sitting the Jackals with the Terrapins? After Caleb seduced Alyssa during the Fall Banquet? Who thought that was a good idea?

Jeremy sees FF and sees that he is alone and wonders where Michael had gone off to. He’s glad that FF has stayed put, the guys quiet but he’s not bad company. Jeremy thinks he would have gotten along pretty well with Jean if he hadn’t flubbed the recruitment.

“He just got a restraining order against that step-brother of his.” Aaron Minyard says explaining the awkward air after Jeremy had spoken. “He’s a Fox.” he adds and Jeremy had felt foolish in that moment.

It should have been obvious.

He hears a scream and sees that one of the Terrapins has joined in the brawl and he has one of the steak knives.

What was the point of that when they had pre-sliced tenderloin anyways? He looks over and sees Anita Flores watching the evening start to go down in flames and all he can think is that she’ll probably do better next time. It’s the first banquet she’s run on her own since Claire retired in the fall.

His eyes go to Jean when he hears another scream.

He can see Laila with Jean and Kevin. He can see Alvarez making her way to the two of them. The Trojans know better after last Winter Banquet. They come together and don’t make it obvious that Jean is at the center of their formation.

He sees Melissa get punched when she tries to get between Richard and Caleb. He’s sure she probably just doesn’t like having this kind of violence at her stadium but getting directly between Richard and Caleb wasn’t her smartest move.

Oh Jacob took exception to that. Well Jeremy can hardly blame the guy when his girlfriend and Captain gets punched like that. Caleb’s just lucky that she’s not dating Malcolm any-

Oh Malcolm is getting in on it. I guess he does still have feelings for Melissa. They had been real cute until he cheated on her. He thinks Melissa is better off with Jacob but who knows.

He looks to Jean again and sees that Kevin is leaving the Trojan encirclement and can see the other Foxes start to head for the exit as the fighting grows more intense. He sees Andrew holding Neil’s hand in a vice grip and-

Oh, of course they’d be anxious here. Of course the Foxes were on edge.

He looks and FF is still sat at the table seemingly unbothered by the chaos erupting around him. He watches as the Foxes make their way to the table where FF is sat. Sees them gathering their belongings and sees FF remain seated, eyes on them and then on the chaos.

Ah, the rearguard.

He nods and diverts his attention back to the mess at hand. Honestly Caleb shouldn’t bait Richard and Richard should be glad that he didn’t propose to someone who’d cheat on him. They’d talked about it and it wasn’t like he had customized the ring or anything so he got his full deposit back. He thought Richard was feeling better about the whole thing, had even been dating Erika and-

Ohh yeah there’s Erika with a Terrapin’s jacket over her shoulders and a hickey that he’s pretty sure Richard hadn’t left on her neck.

Man Caleb what the hell, what did Richard even do? Caleb you don’t even like girl-

Ohhhh.

Caleb….bro. There are better ways to handle a crush.

Now fully understanding the situation Jeremy can’t help but think that it’s actually a pretty simple solution. Well, not simple. Richard is pretty straight but like a firm talking to with Caleb will probably-

“Hey, back off!” He hears Alvarez and his head whips around back to Jean where it shouldn’t have left.

Ravens.

Those Ravens.

Jeremy made a promise.

Jeremy had taken lessons over the summer and-

God it felt good to slam his fist into Johnson’s stupid awful ugly chin. The only thing that was even sweeter was sinking his fist into Reacher’s gut.

“Knox what the fuck?!” he heard Jasmine exclaim and they’d been buddies at one point but it was hard to feel anything positive for a girl who watched.

“I warned you guys during the Fall Banquet didn’t I?” Jeremy asks with a smile as he shakes out his hand. He looks to the side and sees that the rest of the team has now fully encircled Jean. Nothing was getting through them to-

It’s too late that Jeremy sees a younger Raven meatball in hand. He tries to stop it but his arms are too short and it nails Jean right in the forehead. 

He looks at the marinara roll down Jean’s forehead as he blinks in surprise. Laila lets out a scream and has him cradled in her arms and out of sight before Jean even seems to fully understand what is going on.

“Jean, it’s going to be okay.” Jeremy hears Laila assure.

“Laila, what in the world are you freaking out about?” Jean asks. “I’m French, not Italian. I would not bleed marinara sauce.” Jeremy hears him say out of sight and if Jeremy wasn’t so mad he’d laugh.

“That’s it!” Alvarez exclaims and slugs the sophomore who had lobbed the errant meatball and from there it was an all out brawl between the Trojans and the Ravens. They were all defensive over their frenchmen especially against his old team and Jeremy thinks about the investigation he’s been pushing the ERC towards. Thinks about all the little things he has questioned and put into the heads of all of his friends throughout the Division.

He makes his way to Jean as Ned and Jim have taken on the task of handling Reacher and Johnson.

“God, first the sparse wine selection and now this.” Jean says from where Laila was trying to wipe sauce from his face.

“Here, use this.” he offers FF’s handkerchief and thinks about getting a few himself.

Laila takes the handkerchief, “I thought you said there was a lot of wine.” she says.

“No, I said Kevin was doing a lot of whining.” Jean corrects eyes closed as Laila cleans his face off. Jeremy looks towards the Fox table and wonders how he’ll get the handkerchief back to FF and sees FF rising up from the table and quickly put on his jacket before heading out the door after the rest of the Foxes.

What bothers him is the security guards following them. Everyone should know that security guards + the Foxes + Binghamton = Andrew might start stabbing people.

His concern only grows greater when he sees Michael and a few other Ravens follow.

***

There are things that change a person.

Experiences that you never want to experience again. Words that can never be spoken again. Feelings that can never be carefully locked away not that they’re out in the open and known.

Andrew’s experience happened two years ago. Andrew had heard words that he never wished to hear again in his entire life for the last time in Binghamton. Andrew had felt things staring down at a cell phone that he had never let himself feel before.

He looks at Neil safe and sound on the bus after a different fight, a different riot, in Binghamton and it’s hard to be upset. He hadn’t let his Junkie out of his sight the entire night and the moment that he saw security moving in he had grabbed Neil by the hand. His focus had narrowed down at that moment and no amount of Neil insisting that it was fine would stop Andrew’s determined march out of the stadium.

He only felt like he could breathe when he had ushered Neil into the bus and into a seat. He felt his shoulders ease but he didn’t let go of Neil’s hand, he didn’t know if he would until they were back in Palmetto.

The rest of the team filtered out of the stadium quickly and soon enough Wymack was calling out to make sure that everyone was there. “Smith?” Wymack called.

“He’s right here!” a voice calls out and Andrew thinks it’s one of the other Freshmen.

“Let’s get out of here.” Wymack says.

The team gets on the bus and soon enough they’re putting Binghamton in the rearview.

Andrew exhales.

***

He’d heard Michael call out for him and he’d stopped. With all the distraction and the upcoming loading onto the bus he hadn’t felt the need to be exceptionally low presence.

It’d been a mistake as it usually was.

FF looked at the security guard standing in front of him and out the door to the stadium where the Foxes were loading into the bus.

“Will you meet the Master now?” Michael is asking him and FF doesn’t quite get why he’s asking when it’s obvious that FF doesn’t have a choice.

“No.” he says because Michael did ask which means theoretically he could just be misreading the situation.

“You said you’d meet him if the banquet ended.” Michael says.

FF furrows his brow, “I said I’d get up.” he reminds and Michael looks nervous.

“Please?” Michael asks and FF blinks.

“I need to get on the bus.” FF points and the security guard merely steps into his line of sight as if that erased the fact that the bus was there and he was not on it.

“We’ll get you back to where you belong.” Michael promises.

“I belong on the bus that is going back to my campus where I keep all my stuff.” FF says matter of factly.

Michael looks at him utterly bewildered.

“Enough of this.” The guard says and goes to grab him.

FF moves out of the way.

The guard goes to grab him again and FF backs up and out of the way again.

The guard goes to grab him and FF steps back out of his reach again.

This process continues until they are back into the main stadium where the brawl has taken over all of the teams. FF sidesteps the security guard, and he’s near positive this isn’t a real security guard Binghamton really needs to work on their hiring practices. Only this time he side steps out of the way and the guard crashes like an enranged bull into the punch table.

FF’d feel bad about it but there was no way in the world he was going to meet someone named ‘The Master’ when he has spaghetti pants. Absolutely no chance. Whoever it was probably was important enough to deserve dry clean only pants.

“I need to go.” he says to Michael and heads back for the exit, hopeful that maybe just maybe the bus hadn’t left yet. Nicky was pretty drunk though and he knew that the rest of the team would have a singular focus on Captain Neil.

“No, wait!” Michael pleads and FF stops seeing the other player with tears in his eyes. FF stops and unzips his jacket slightly to reach in and grab the handkerchief he had refolded as his pocket square.

“Sorry, I really can’t stay.” he says and offers the handkerchief to Michael, “You can keep that one or hand it to me the next time we play against one another if you remember.” he says. “Tonight isn’t the night for me to talk with your Master.” he says.

Michael looks at him with wide eyes and accepts the handkerchief.

He walks out back into the exiting hallway and there is an older asian man there. He has a cane and he is standing between FF and the door.

He approaches quickly and the man hits his cane against the ground once, “You will join the Ravens.” he says with authority.

Oh great.

“I'd actually rather not.” Smith responds and makes sure to keep a wide berth from the crazy old guy who’s made his way into the Stadium somehow.

He gets out the stadium doors and-

The bus left.

He sighs thinks about the crazy guy right behind him and lets his presence fade into something only Jeremy Knox could see (APPARENTLY).

It’s pretty cold out as he gets as far away from the entrance to the building as possible and reaches into his pocket for his phone. He dials Nicky.

***

“COACH, YOU FORGOT SMITHY. AGAIN.” A drunken shout from the back of the bus startles Wymack as he lets out a loud string of curses before getting into a lane to make a U-turn.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

[oconist]

The tenderness of his muscle would be beautiful to eat.

— Michael Italiano yuki tsunoda & michael italiano + this post

Rainer Meria Rilke, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge / Sarah Rose Etter, The Book of X / Ellen Bass, Indigo / Michael Bazzett, Inside the Trojan Horse

[ogradyfilm]

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga - Hope Takes Root

[The following essay contains MAJOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

I. Living Off the Corpse of the Old World

Come on, Max. Tell me your story. What burned you out? Kill one man too many? See too many people die? Lose some family? Oh, so that's it. You lost your family. That makes you something special, does it?

This monologue, originally uttered in 1981’s The Road Warrior, is still thematically relevant to the increasingly sprawling Mad Max Saga, resonating three films and more than four decades later. Every installment in the franchise—from its scrappy, low-budget debut to its most recent spinoff—revolves around loss. The desolate Wasteland takes, and takes, and takes again, consuming friends, family, resources, sanity. Those that linger are little more than disillusioned scavengers—“maggots living off the corpse of the old world.”

That description certainly applies to Dementus, the central antagonist of Furiosa. A charismatic, flamboyant warlord commanding veritable legions of bloodthirsty marauders, the self-proclaimed “King of the Bikers” (one of several grandiose titles that he flaunts like undeserved trophies) quickly establishes himself as a cunning tactician, utilizing an audacious Trojan Horse strategy to effortlessly overwhelm a formidable stronghold with minimal casualties to his own troops.

Despite his short-term victories on the battlefield, however, Dementus consistently proves himself to be an utterly incompetent leader in times of peace, with his conquests almost immediately descending into chaos and disarray. He’s essentially a post-apocalyptic Ozymandias in the making: “Round the decay of that colossal wreck,” you can easily imagine the History Man saying of his ruined domain, “the lone and level sands stretch far away.”

II. A Fuel-Injected Suicide Machine

Of course, it is implied that Dementus’ numerous “failures” are actually intentional. Although he claims to seek a “land of abundance,” finding it isn't his true goal; rather, what he desires is the pursuit of paradise—the thrill of a chase without end, futile and fruitless. To paraphrase Michael Mann’s Heat: “For [him], the action is the juice.”

[FINAL WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!]

Beneath his boasts, bluster, and pretensions of ambition, Dementus is a devout nihilist, so irreparably shattered by the tragic deaths of his children (symbolized by the stuffed toy that he constantly carries on his person) that even physical sensation—pain, pleasure, exhilaration—now eludes him. As he explains to Furiosa during their climactic confrontation, the gaping wound in his heart can only be healed (albeit temporarily) by violence—the fleeting adrenaline rush of seizing territory and crushing his enemies underfoot.

Perhaps this is what motivates him to “mentor” our young heroine: he wants to remold something untainted by rust and radiation in his own savage image—not merely as an heir or a replacement for his biological offspring, but as the ultimate validation of his pessimistic philosophy. To this end, he forces the poor girl to watch as he brutally murders her mother, burning every excruciating second of agony and torment into her memory. To add insult to injury, he literally tastes the tears that she weeps, reveling in her grief and misery.

III. Feels Like Hope

Nevertheless, Love somehow manages to endure amidst the despair—like a lush and verdant Green Place thriving in the middle of a barren desert. If Dementus is a dark reflection of Max Rockatansky’s worst qualities—selfishness, cynicism, indiscriminate rage—then Praetorian Jack anticipates his eventual altruism. Like Max, Jack’s parents were once “warriors searching for a righteous cause.” Unfortunately, nobility and morality are as illusory and insubstantial as a mirage among the merciless dunes; following their senseless deaths, their orphaned son resigned himself to an empty existence of defending an egomaniacal tyrant’s supply caravans from roving bandits and rival gangs.

In Furiosa, though, Jack recognizes a kindred spirit. While circumstances have reduced them to their basest survival instincts, they both dream of something greater: she of returning to the home from which she was snatched, and he of discovering a purpose beyond the “fire and blood” of the Road War. Together, they forge a relationship that transcends romance, nourishing the seed of Hope in one another. He wouldn’t hesitate to lay down his life in exchange for hers; and she, in turn, would gladly sacrifice a chance at freedom in order to protect him.

Even Jack’s unceremonious demise can’t totally extinguish the faint ember of optimism that he sparked in Furiosa’s subconscious. Though she briefly succumbs to wrath and exacts cruel vengeance on Dementus, she refuses to fulfill her adversary’s grim prophecy that she will become his successor—the personification of his bleak worldview. Instead, she follows Jack’s example; inspired by his inherent goodness, she conspires to liberate Immortan Joe’s abused and exploited “wives” (glorified sex slaves, valued solely as breeding stock), leading them to salvation beyond his seemingly infinite reach.

IV. Some Kind of Redemption

“Who killed the world?” is a recurring question throughout Mad Max: Fury Road; the complementary characters in its belated prequel provide something resembling an answer. Dementus, haunted by his traumatic Past, destroys everything that he touches; by the conclusion of his journey, his band of loyal disciples has dwindled to a meager handful, and he finally marches towards his doom alone. Joe, meanwhile, rules the Present with an iron fist, but his single-minded obsession with producing a “pure” genetic legacy sabotages his dynastic aspirations; without any “perfect” progeny to inherit his cult of personality, his empire is too fragile to outlast him. Furiosa, on the other hand, realizes that the Future lies not in oppression and subjugation, but in cooperation, collaboration, and compassion.

Greed, authoritarianism, and Hate killed the world; it is therefore only logical that Love should resurrect it.

It’s a message as elegantly simple and universal as the archetypes that populate George Miller’s modern mythology. Furiosa is a worthy addition to the legendary series, expanding upon and recontextualizing its predecessors while simultaneously excelling on its own merits. It is magnificent, spectacular, and appropriately epic.

[sjbattleangel]

Special thanks to @agramuglia for inspiring this awful joke.

Everyone: "Steven Universe/She-Ra/Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend Of Korra/Star Wars: The Last Jedi/The Last Of Us/The Last Of Us Part II/The MCU/G. Willow Wilson's Ms. Marvel run/Gail Simone's Birds Of Prey run/The Dark Crystal: Age Of Resistance/The Persona games/The Sandman/X-Men/The Simpsons/Everything by Dan Slott/Everything by Tom Taylor/Everything by Jason Aaron/Everything by Donny Cates/Everything by Brian Michael Bendis/Everything by Devin Grayson/Everything by Jonathan Hickman/Everything by Scott Snyder/Everything by James Tynion IV/Everything by Joshua Williamson, etc are anti-intellectual, regressive, pro-status quo, far-right Trojan Horses pretending to be "diverse and progressive" just so they can take advantage of naïve leftists."

Me: "No. That's Velma".

[sicc-nasti]

GRAHHH massive art fight DUMP im throwin all this on one THANG sorry about that yall <3 i had fun attacking as much as I could even tho i wanted to attack and revenge SO MUCH MORE THAN I DID but alas this is the case every year smh Tags under the cut in order of characters

@ottosbigtop / @1-800-deactivatednearu / @its-morbin-time /Spazweasle / @alarucha Hallbjorns / @twinflame413 / @loomfus / cvknm / @gorjee-art x2 / @mickmundane x 2 / The Scientist ( TF2 ) / Caesar / @coopster3d , @3dygma / Iris , @beepiesheepie , @the-jade-jester27 , Amoretta Michaels / @fourtyfaregates / Tobias / Arkadiusz "Patches" Dżendżera , Steven "Stalker" Trojan / @pinkdiamond0714 / Xander / @sharkk-fin / @hazardtoons / @nafohcnis