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thatesqcrush · 5 years ago

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Best Laid Plans

Rafael Barba x Bryan Kneef x Reader. DP (double penetration) for kink bingo. This is MMF and MFM. Oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex. This basically goes straight to filth, very very little plot. NSFW!

WC: 2811

AN2: Forgive any typos. ‘Tis late here on the East Coast.

Summer in Chicago. Hot, humid mornings meant a 50% chance of a thunderstorm in the evening. Most days you were prepared, stashing an umbrella in your oversized shoulder bag. Except this morning you changed bags and as a result, you forgot the umbrella.

The rain pelted down hard, soaking you instantly. You ran down Michigan Avenue, looking for refuge in the nearest restaurant. You ran with your bag over your head, serving as a poor substitute for an umbrella. Your shoes squished and squashed in an obscene manner and you scrunched your nose in disgust. Spotting an awning ahead of you, you jogged towards it in hopes to catch a minute and wait for the rain to stop.

You caught your appearance in the glass reflection of the building you were in front of – The Talbott Hotel. You looked like a drowned rat, with your mascara running down your cheeks and the sopped wet herm of your dress which stuck to your thighs. You sighed.

“The bar has a bathroom miss if you’d like to freshen up and warm up until the rain stops.”

You looked up at the doorman standing there. You gave him a small smile and nodded, thanking him as he opened the door for you.

The bar was fairly quiet, which surprised you for the time of day. You took a seat at the empty bar and ordered a scotch, two fingers, with a twist. You opened your purse and sought after your make up bag. You grabbed a handful of red napkins from the bar caddy in front of you and began to fix your appearance. You cleaned off the mascara that was on your cheeks, swiped on some concealer and re-applied mascara. You took a claw clip and pinned up your soaked hair. Unbeknownst you, two sets of bright green eyes were watching you curiously.

Acid jazz played throughout. The bartender came over and brought over your drink. You placed some cash on the bar, covering the price as well as tip before hopping off with your bearings and drink to an empty table. You settled into your seat and scanned the bar.

You had a bad habit of people watching. A force of habit from your time as a barista in college, getting to know everyone – who were the regulars and who weren’t. Your phone buzzed, interrupting your thoughts. When you checked your messages, you let out a sigh – your friend who was meeting you for dinner, cancelled. Your stomach growled in response and you shoved a handful of peanuts into your mouth. You chewed thoughtfully as you pulled up the weather app on your phone – it was going to rain for at least another hour. ‘Might as well grab dinner here.’ You thought to yourself.

You looked up again, looking for where the bartender went, when you found yourself staring at a handsome older man with dark hair and suspenders across the way from you. He wasn’t alone – another man was with him, but his head was down and he was busy scribbling something down. What caused you though to freeze in tracks, was that the handsome man in suspenders was staring at you.

Even from across the distance, the intense smoldering stare from the man in suspenders caused your cunt to kick. He was painfully attractive, with dark hair that greyed at the temples. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing off strong, tanned forearms.

The man who accompanied him turned to him to whisper something in his ear. The one in suspenders smirked and nodded. Heat deep down your belly and between your legs was stoked.

You swallowed hard as the man in suspenders made his way towards you. Your heart raced in your chest.

“This seat taken?” The man in suspenders asked. You shook your head and he smiled as he sat.

“I’m Rafael.” He stuck his hand out and you took it, shaking his hand gingerly.

“Y/N.” You replied, focused on how pretty his lips were with perfect peaks on the upper lip and fullness to the lower one. His eyes are breathtaking and you could imagine yourself getting lost in them for a lifetime.

“Are you here in Chicago for business or pleasure?” Rafael asked.

“Pleasure, I hope.”

You both look up at the voice who made its presence known. If you had thought Rafael was handsome, this man was sinful with equally bright green eyes and a full beard that you instantly wondered what would be like on your skin. As a matter of fact, he seemed rough and unfinished – screaming danger in a way that made your nipples go tight and your throat go dry.

“Bryan Kneef – this is Y/N.” Rafael introduced.

A wolfish smile graced Bryan’s face and you felt the skin on the back of your neck prickle.

“Have – has anyone ever told you that you two look awfully alike? Cousins? Twins?” You asked genuinely.

“So we’ve been told.” Bryan chuckled. “But no – not related. Just happy coincidence.”

“Coincidence? Or conspiracy?” You asked, arching your brow as you took a long swig of your drink, emptying it. You relished in the burn that the amber liquid made its way down your throat. You leaned back in you seat, watching the two men intently. You were soaked in more ways than one – your dress left nothing hidden. Your nipples were hard as rocks and your panties were soaked in more ways than one.

“Can we buy you another drink?” Bryan asked. You nodded.

You gave a nod and Rafael stood, making his way back to the bar. You watched Rafael as he walked away and then looked at Bryan.

“Why don’t you ask me what you really want?”

Desire was flush on Bryan’s face and his eyes twinkled. “And what do you think that is?”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, two gorgeous men like you. One of me. No wedding bands. I’m not stupid.”

“No harm in having a little fun.” Bryan replied as he sipped his drink.

“You say that to everyone?”

“We know what we want. No need to beat around the bush.”

Rafael returned with a fresh drink for you. You thanked him before taking another long drag. Both men watched your neck bob as you swallowed the drink. You placed your drink down and wiped your mouth.

“This is too good to be true.”

Bryan tipped his head towards Rafael. “He’s only in town for one more night. So we want to make the most of it before he heads home.”

“And where is home?”

“New York.” Rafael replied. He leaned over and placed a hand on your exposed thigh. Your skin was cold and the warmth of his hand caused images of a becoming night flashed through your mind.

“And how exactly would this go?” You asked, taking another sip of your drink. You were aware of the small circles being traced on your skin and you had to bite your check from letting out an involuntary moan.

“We’re very good at sharing.” Rafael rumbled, as both men shifted their seats to be closer to you.

You nodded – the very idea of you and two men was thrilling. You finished off your drink, slamming it hard on the table. “Okay. I’m in.”

Fortunately for you, Rafael’s room was conveniently right in the Talbott Hotel. You dared not to look at anyone in the eye as you made your way through the hotel lobby. Bryan’s hand was pressed on the small of your back guiding you to the elevator bank as Rafael followed from behind.

Not a word was spoken on the ride up to the top floor, where Rafael’s room was. You felt wild and bold – this was completely unlike you. The hotel elevator opened up to a grandiose suite, with floor to ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of Lake Michigan.

It was still raining, the sky was dark and haunting as lightening flashed through the sky and thunder rumbled. You walked around the room, taking in the lavish and opulence ahead of you.

You turned around and found both men watching you intently once more. You made your way to the bed, knowing they’d be watching your every move. You undid the buttons of your dress, peeling off the wet material, leaving you clad in just your panties and bra.

Both men smiled at each other and then moved towards you as one, making quick removal of their clothes as well. “Are you ready?” Rafael asked.

“We’re going to take you every which way possible. Tonight – you are ours. We are yours.”

“Yes.”

You lay against Rafael’s chest, his strong arms wrapped around you, playing with your breasts. Bryan’s hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread as his mouth worked your pussy. He licked a broad stripe along your cunt, before taking your clit into his mouth and suckling. “Oh God,” you groaned as your head lolled back, lacing your hands into his dark hair. You pulled at his hair, tugging as your hips rocked against his face. “Don’t stop.” You groaned as his warm tongue landed on your clit.

“Oh he won’t.” Rafael murmured as he sucked on the pulse point on your neck. He tugged and rolled your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Bryan snaked two fingers from under, to slip them into your warm sheath, pumping it slowly. “Fuck!” You moaned. Bryan chuckled, sending vibrations along your body before he resumed licking you. His tongue abused your bundle of nerves over and over again. You felt the familiar coil in your belly and before you knew it, you were falling apart, coming all over Bryan’s face - chanting his name and praising God all at once.

Bryan licked you through your orgasm and then pressed kisses up and along your trembling thighs until he was fully over you. You wrapped your hand around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, deep and hungry, tasting yourself on him. The kiss broke and as you swallowed air, Bryan pulled Rafael into a kiss. You watched stunned as you were sandwiched between them. The two men kissing was thrilling, like watching two tornadoes collide, further deepening your arousal.

“Mmmm.” Rafael moaned as Bryan broke the kiss. “She tastes delicious.”

“You should have a taste.” Bryan encouraged. “She’s sweet like candy.” Rafael nodded and Bryan sat back on his haunches. Rafael encouraged you to turn around and sit on his face. You acquiesced his request and did so. You let out an obscene moan as Rafael fucked you with his tongue. You lowered yourself so you were face to face with his cock, and took him deep in your mouth.

“Yes, suck that cock.” Bryan encouraged as you sucked on Rafael’s cock. Bryan laced one hand into your hair as his other fisted and pumped his cock.

“You’re such a good cocksucker.” Bryan praised and you squealed in response, though the sound was muffled because your mouth was full. Rafael’s cock felt heavy in your mouth and the taste of his pre-cum flooded your mouth. You took a breath before taking more of his length into your mouth, triggering your gag reflex. The sounds of your mouth slobbering all over his cock drove both men wild.

You didn’t ease up. You pushed his cock gently to the side, so you could access his balls. As you sucked gently on his balls, Bryan took Rafael’s length in his mouth. Both of you worked Rafael. You gasped, releasing his balls as Rafael began to finger fuck you as well. A strand of saliva connected you to him.

“I am going to cum,” Rafael warned. Bryan pulled off his length and pointed Rafael’s cock to your mouth where you took him in deeply again. “Mmmm,” you hummed, sending vibrations up and through Rafael’s body. Rafael’s grip on your thighs tightened and without warning he began to fuck your mouth, thrusting erratically. Suddenly your mouth was flooded with the taste of his hot, salty cum as he released into your mouth. Rafael shuddered as the last drops of his cum released into your mouth.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl.” Bryan rumbled, deep and low, his mouth by your ear. You swallowed all of Rafael’s release greedily, but some still managed to drip out of your mouth as you released him from your mouth.

Bryan kissed you, tasting Rafael’s release and he let out another groan. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You whimpered, watching him pump his massive cock. “Please.”

Rafael reached into the drawer and tossed a condom to Bryan. Bryan tore the condom and rolled it on, before joining his twin on the bed. Both men kissed once more, and you could see Rafael’s cock come back to life. You crawl over between them and both men break the kiss before each of them take turns to kiss you. Finally, you settle over Bryan and sink onto his cock, as Rafael pressed kisses along your back. Rafael took your arms and pulled them behind your back as Bryan thrusted up into you.

“How’s that cock feel?” Rafael questioned, his voice dripping with lust.

“So good, so fucking good! Oh God!” You pant. “Don’t stop.”

“Lets see how pretty you look coming over that cock.” Rafael encouraged as he reached in between to rub your clit.

“Fuck yes, Jesus!” You cried out. Bryan grunted as he gripped your hips hard as he fucked you with everything he had. You let out a squeal as he hit a sensitive spot in you.

“Lean her forward, Bry.” You hear Rafael command and Bryan brings you the way down, so your forehead to forehead. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands on your tits. You feel lube drizzle all over your ass and you realize what Rafael was going to do. You heard the sound of foil tearing and your heart began to race. You had never done this before but you were excited to try it.

Rafael pressed the swollen head of his cock against your asshole and slowly pushed inside. The burn made you clench around Bryan more. Once Rafael was all the way inside, both men started to thrust slowly, alternating to each other, quickly finding rhythm. You let out a wrecked moan. You never felt so completely full in your life. It was all too much – you were completely foregone into the pleasure. Bryan’s cock was deep in your cunt; Rafael was deep in your ass. A sharp spank landed on your ass from Rafael, causing you to squeal.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my –” you babbled incoherently.

“Are you going to come like a good little slut on our cocks?” Rafael grunted as he continued to fuck you in long, rough strokes.

“Yes, oh God, yes!” you cried out. You pussy throbbed with need and you were so close to the precipice again. You don’t care – the only thing that mattered was how perfect this moment was – you didn’t want it to be over just yet. Bryan stroked your clit with his thumb, slowly, teasingly, working you to your orgasm. Just a few additional circles on your clit by Bryan and you were done. You wailed both their names over and over again as you came again, your pussy gripping Bryan’s cock and your ass clenching Rafael’s cock. It had never been this intense, and you completely dissolved into pleasure as your orgasm rippled through your body. It was almost blinding; sounds were fuzzy, almost like white noise. Rafael slumps over you, the weight of his body on yours, causing you to be sandwiched. His body moved easily with Bryan’s increasingly rough thrusts. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Y/N!” You could barely hear both men shout your name as they each came.

Rafael withdrew from your ass before he flopped onto the bed. He removed the condom and tossed it in a nearby trash can while you remove yourself from Bryan. Bryan does the same as Rafael. The three of you remain in bed, hands wandering, caressing and stroking. The three of you manage to get some rest before deciding to order room service. After dinner, the three of you fuck some more, making the most of Rafael’s limited time.

It’s late and you realized you need to get home. You re-dress, your clothes half-dry and half-wet. You all exchange phone numbers and make plans to reunite the next time Rafael is in town.

Bryan and Rafael each offer to call a town car and you shake your head. Both men stand in front of the elevator and you give a small wave as the bank closes. As you make your way down, you find yourself grateful for a little rain and cancelled plans.

FIN.

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#thatesqcrush kink bingo #good fight x svu crossover #bryan kneef imagine #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #bryan kneef x reader

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theunvanquishedzims · 4 years ago

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The Michigan Fleet authors posted their AUs so here are mine

theunvanquishedzims: I have SO MANY Boat Boy ideas but I'm sitting on them because I came up with a bunch halfway through the book and they got jossed by the end rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Uhhh, sorry? I think?? theunvanquishedzims: (i.e. Basil gets sad and weepy over Rich and Liam flirting at a party, Trimmer plays fairy godmother a la ripping half his shirt off, giving him a pep talk, and sending him back out there to Win Back His Man) rollerskatinglizard: *whooping* theunvanquishedzims: Jossed so hard rollerskatinglizard:Okay, that's DELIGHTFUL rollerskatinglizard: Trimmer is the most terrifying fairy godmother rollerskatinglizard: Anything else? :Dc theunvanquishedzims: Lemme get my notes rollerskatinglizard: *gleeful wiggling*

theunvanquishedzims: Okay so I stopped reading when the Sympatico grabbed Rich during the storm and it took me a month or so to get back and finish, so I was under the impression that the ship was still being fixed in drydock and not, y'know, actually being crewed and sailed. (Trimmer yelling "just let her sink" hits reeeeeaaaallly different when you know that) rollerskatinglizard: Ahaha oh dang theunvanquishedzims: So the big idea was the gangsters needing something from the Sympatico. Not the general thugs and delinquents crewing the Sympatico but the actual organized crime of the Fleet, who were getting pretty used to using ships like the Sympatico to run their dirty deeds through. Except it's basically impossible to get what they need out of it, even when they drag out one of the old IST guys. He finally tells them Rich was the one who did the heavy lifting for the past few years rollerskatinglizard: Ooooh! rollerskatinglizard: What an interesting idea! theunvanquishedzims: Hang on I need to restart rollerskatinglizard: Ah yes, computers theunvanquishedzims: Sorry, that turned into a dinner break and running errands During which I came up with a couple new AUs theunvanquishedzims: Okay, back to mafia: they track Rich down, probably snag him after he's been out boarding. Off work, not expected back on the ship, tired from all the exercise, etc. They're not overtly threatening, just pick up his skimmer and politely suggest that he comes help them, and he probably goes quietly because there's like, six of them. I'm thinking only one of whom was actually posted on the Sympatico theunvanquishedzims: So they get back to the Sympatico. She's been temporarily decommissioned until the Fleet can fix her broken processes, but that's also a cover story by the mob. They want to clear out all the smuggled goods and information, but she's basically a ghost ship, silent and empty, and even the other IST guy couldn't get more than a few blinking lights. She's sulking basically, she knows they're not there to fix her so she's digging in her heels and playing dead. Like a toddler going ragdoll when they don't want to go to bed. theunvanquishedzims: They explain to Rich that they can't get a response and want him to take a crack at it. "Has she said anything?" "Who?" "The Sympatico." "...we didn't talk to it." "Well that's half your problem right there." theunvanquishedzims: At this point you should watch Show Yourself from Frozen 2, and the crystal scene from Atlantis the Lost Empire. Stepping into the place you've been called, making your presence known, and having a greater power reach out for you. Shiny lights, chasing the spark of life to its source, and having the power consume and embody you. Rich is used to it but it's probably pretty freaky from the outside, and way less magical-looking than a Disney movie. Probably more like when Magneto activated the machine in the first X-Men movie. Step up, turn it on, and suddenly it's sucking the life out of you, making you a living battery theunvanquishedzims: In my head I am picturing the glowing blue eyes, lights cracking along the skin like lightning or circuit patterns, the implants glowing in his temples, standing at a terminal like a star trek deck, maybe a faint breeze-like movement of the hair and clothes to indicate the sheer power radiating off of him. In reality it's probably more like he falls down, gets up, stumbles along to a good spot out of the weather, and curls up in a secluded defensible spot to stare emptily at the wall for a few hours while lights randomly go on and off around the ship theunvanquishedzims: Just being trailed by six very wary mafia dudes who have probably never seen someone mind-meld a ship, and definitely not solo. He's like a zombie, and when he does talk it's very clear he's talking for the both of them theunvanquishedzims: If any of them are in sync with the ship they definitely feel the !!!Rich you're back!!! vibe theunvanquishedzims: No idea how that resolves, I guess it depends on how powerful the mafia is. If they're the kind of entrenched criminals who are ongoing characters, then they have Rich scrub out what they need then dump him back on his skimmer to face the fallout alone. He might report it to the spooks? Or at least try to tell Basil and Mitch theunvanquishedzims: If they're not recurring characters then they were definitely being tracked by the spooks, who move in once the Sympatico comes back online. Rich has to answer some very tough questions but he cooperates fully and winds up digging up a LOT of dirt out of the Sympatico, now that the mafia showed him where to look. It's another one of the super traumatizing moments that makes him look cool and heroic. Oh yeah, totally got kidnapped, single-handedly piloted a ship, and helped bust the mafia, please stop talking about it, I need a nap, and also someone to go with me next time I go boarding. theunvanquishedzims: (And then I finished reading the book and found out that the Sympatico had a new crew and was out on the water with her AI still fried and broken, how did no one notice that)

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theunvanquishedzims: Okay I don't have Trimmer's voice well enough to write this fic so I'm feeding it to you raw: Trucker AU theunvanquishedzims: Rich is a long-haul trucker, much to the disappointment of his elder sister Angela, who is in law enforcement and thought he had a decent future in it too. Athena is a pro wrestler and totally down to support her brother traveling the country (and hopefully being in the same city as him sometime, she wants him to see her kick ass!) Rich wants to pursue a degree in [tech or engineering] but college is expensive, and trucking is a good way to make money, on top of which you don't have to pay rent when you're on the road. So he's saving up for school, probably listening to a lot of audiobooks, podcasts, and training guides while chugging along. theunvanquishedzims: Not nearly as bad or sketchy as the Sympatico, but life on the road can get pretty sketch sometimes, especially when you're alone. Enter Trimmer. Or rather, enter Rich into the middle-of-nowhere trucker stopover bar where Trimmer is getting his ass kicked. theunvanquishedzims: (Gonna go ahead and say the bar is called the Sympatico, and this is a very bad night to be there, which is saying something because any night at the Sympatico is a bad night to be there.) theunvanquishedzims: Fortunately, Rich is not trapped there by the cold uncaring waters of Lake Michigan, he can just turn around and leave when he sees the nightly fight brewing. Unfortunately, he has a weakness for cute twinks, and no matter how much the guy is insulting their mothers four on one is really not fair, so he winds up wading in, scooping Trimmer up, and murder-stalking to the exit theunvanquishedzims: [At this point I pause to stare out the window and wonder wistfully what their canon meeting was like, who approached who, if Trimmer just straight-up used his lunch to hire a bodyguard or if Rich did the "are you gonna finish that" puppy-eyes and Trimmer realized how easily he could be bribed, etc etc] theunvanquishedzims: In the Trucker AU Trimmer waits until they're outside to go feral goblin on the arm that's holding him, Rich drops him, and negotiation commences theunvanquishedzims: I don't have Trimmer's backstory nailed down, the "teenage runaway" archetype doesn't really suit someone with a large loving family, but safe to say that whatever lead him to hitchhiking across the Midwest he is determined to see through out of sheer bullheaded stubbornness. The only thing worse than calling your parents to bail you out with bus money home is calling your grandma. It might have involved stabbing a college advisor when the guy got rapey, he's technically not on the run from the law, he DEFINITELY is not on track to getting his degree. Halfway between college dropout and missing person. If he was wealthy he'd be backpacking Europe for a semester, but he's not, so he's hitchhiking America. And getting molested by truckers, because Trimmer can't have nice things. theunvanquishedzims: He is really not interested in getting molested by Rich! But, as Rich points out, he did just save him from getting stabbed, Trimmer doesn't seem to have any exit options for this backwater town, and holy #&$^ the bar's on fire. (The Sympatico burns to the ground that night, to the betterment of the world at large.) rollerskatinglizard: You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this But you should totally post it Splick and Roach would both scream in glee theunvanquishedzims: Rich and Trimmer get out while the getting is good, and it's nearly dawn before they finally hash out details. Rich offers to drop him off at the next town, but they're still pretty close to the epicenter of the mass exodus so the next few hundred miles are probably not going to be safe for Trimmer. By this point Trimmer has found a bunch of the old textbooks Rich bought secondhand to study in his free time and come to the conclusion that [this nerd is a nerd] his story checks out. Just a college kid trying to scrape together the cash to get an education and make a decent living. Reminds Trimmer of Trimmer. (Reminds Trimmer of Joey.) rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3 Beautiful theunvanquishedzims: So now Rich has a little traveling buddy! Helps him stay awake on the long hauls, lets him use the carpool lanes, even reads to him out of the textbooks sometimes, with commentary. Trimmer is really smart and surprisingly easy to get along with. They nap in the cab, eat in diners, and share motel rooms. Trimmer unclenches a little. Rich is good about not asking personal questions. They definitely watch Athena's fights on tv more than once, much to Rich's chagrin and Trimmer's loud encouragement. He started fanboying over it to annoy and embarrass Rich, but it is surprisingly cathartic to watch someone get trash-talked and respond by just BODYSLAMMING their opponent. ("Why are you rooting for her, you're the biggest trash-talker I know," Rich mutters into his beer, face bright red as Trimmer whoops and high-fives the waitress he got to change the channel in the sports bar.) theunvanquishedzims: ("She would wipe the floor with me," Trimmer responds with a smirk, watching smugly as Rich tries to figure out if Trimmer is having impure thoughts about his baby sister) theunvanquishedzims: (They have already established that Trimmer does not have impure thoughts about Rich, that Rich DOES have impure thoughts about Trimmer, but as long as he stays in his own motel bed that's fine.) (Trimmer still sleeps with a knife under his pillow but doesn't bother in the cab, where their co-naps occasionally verge on snuggling.) rollerskatinglizard: <3 <3 <3 *perfect* theunvanquishedzims: They finally reach their destination. It has been [days to drive a rig between NJ and CA] and they make it there slightly ahead of schedule. Rich drops off the delivery, Trimmer comes face-to-face with the reality of the trip ending. He'd been hitchhiking for months and felt like he was going nowhere, and now a few days and suddenly he's crossed the entire country, and almost kinda maybe had fun doing it! And California's as good a place as any to stay, at least he won't freeze to death if he doesn't find a place to crash for the night. theunvanquishedzims: Then Rich comes back and hands him a wad of cash, pocketing a stack of his own. "Got a cash bonus for finishing early! And since you're the reason I made it here this fast, I just figured part of it is your share..." he peters out, trying to explain his reasoning. They sit in silence for a while, both thinking about Trimmer in California, far away from anyone who would want to hurt him, with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. theunvanquishedzims: "...Let's get lunch," Trimmer finally decrees, and Rich can't keep the relieved smile off his face. They renegotiate some things over lunch, and then go to pick up the next load to haul cross-country. Together. rollerskatinglizard: AWWWWWW!!!! *YES,* I love it!!! theunvanquishedzims: And then eventually they go to college together, and get their degrees, and good jobs, and meet the families, and Trimmer absolutely drags Rich to as many of Athena's fights as they can manage on the road. It's just to save money, things are cheaper when you split the rent, Trimmer hollers on the phone. You put a ring on that boy's finger, y'hear?! Hellbender hollers back. I am so glad the word moirail exists rollerskatinglizard: YES God yes Also this AU pleases me greatly rollerskatinglizard: Blessings upon you for it theunvanquishedzims: ...technically the Michigan Fleet takes place in a post-Homestuck world, so theoretically it could have time to enter mainstream lexicon. It's better than "bromance" theunvanquishedzims: JUST THROWING THAT OUT THERE >.> rollerskatinglizard: Yeah, totally different feel than bromance!

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theunvanquishedzims: Speaking of Homestuck! Wanna hear the Helmsman AU? :3 rollerskatinglizard: YES PLEASE theunvanquishedzims: Okay gimme a minute to get my notes, it's not based on One of Our Submarines but I can't remember the fic title. Have you read the one where the kids redesign the helmsrig and use that to garner support for Feferi as Empress? Lots of political drama, Sollux-centric, [spoiler], and in the end they win *but at what cost* (((If someone knows what fic I'm talking about please link me, I can't find it.))) rollerskatinglizard: No, I haven't theunvanquishedzims: It's good, if you like the nitty-gritty of rebellions. The piece I'm cherry picking is the new Empress introducing a new way of helming that allows more freedom. Instead of a single enslaved lowblood being hung up in tentacle wires until they drop dead, it's something you can unplug from, allowing psionics to swap out, take shifts, etc. So Empress Clearwater (yay seadweller name) is dead, long live Empress Clearwater, and she shakes things up by introducing her new helmsrig and orders it implemented Fleet-wide theunvanquishedzims: I don't think this universe is as bad as canon but it's still pretty rough on the bad ships, and the Sympatico is a very bad ship theunvanquishedzims: Angie is still a security officer, probably fairly high-ranking as a greenblood. Athena is a pro wrestler. Sports are probably a bigger part of life in a Fleet that doesn't center around conquest. The three probably grew up in the same neighborhood, maybe dabbled in quadrants before settling on hatefriends. Oooh, or ash, Athena setting them up to talk out their issues over lunch and then heckle each other over their other quadrants could fit in that quadrant. theunvanquishedzims: Rich is, of course, a helmsman. It's rare for someone that close to jade to be so powerful, he was actually planning on a career in tech, but when he got called in for psionic testing he basically crushed it. Possibly literally. And olive is still technically a lowblood, so off to the helm with you. theunvanquishedzims: His first posting is the Sympatico, and it's a nightmare. The one bright spot (dark spot? How do trolls even. *insert rant about Kanaya being pastel goth not goth-goth*) theunvanquishedzims: The one bright spot is Trimmer, a technician whose survival method is to lock himself in the helm dock and stab anybody who tries to mess with Rich when he's piloting. It's basically how things work in the superstorms, but 75-90% of the time instead of a few times a year theunvanquishedzims: Rich can barely talk most days, they communicate via chat client, and even that requires a lot of brainpower so they can't do it when the Sympatico has to fight something or do difficult maneuvers in space, which is pretty frequently. But Rich keeps an eye out for Trimmer, directing him through the ship to help him avoid people and fights, and tweaking things like hall lights when things get hairy. I think at least once he turned off the gravity, it cost him but it got Trimmer out of a really bad situation and gave him an excuse to hole up in the helmsdeck for a few days until things cooled off theunvanquishedzims: But all that is in the past! There's a new Empress, a new crew, and a new way of helming! theunvanquishedzims: The Sympatico is one of the flagships to roll out the new helmsrig. The original crew was disbanded, culled, reassigned. Trimmer was allowed to stay (at Rich's request) to ease the transition. It's a big day, lots of media attention documenting the new helmsmen, and Rich is doing his best to keep calm. He had to do some physical therapy to stand upright and be able to walk from the big speech to his shiny new helmsrig, but as a fairly young recruit he's not nearly as bad off as some older helmsmen whose bodies have atrophied. He's still pretty skinny though, especially when compared to Angie and Athena, who he reunited with (for the cameras) #helmsmenaretrollstoo, #greenc3<green, #omgishipit, see things are much better now, people can reclaim their lives and quadrants, helming is something to be excited for not scared of, etc. Lots of propaganda, lots of attention, lots of pressure to get this right theunvanquishedzims: And then he walks into the helm and Trimmer is there. Rich would probably have had a meltdown if he hadn't been, but no one can tell because they're so calm and professional. They're both cleaned up and impeccably uniformed, the plugging in goes smoothly, and the Sympatico comes to life and lifts off into the sky into a sunset that would make a Hollywood director weep. The cameras turn off, great job everybody, and things return to normal. Except Rich and Trimmer have no idea how to handle normal. For the first 8 hours it's fine, it's good, it's a little weird that Trimmer looks so tidy and that Rich is sitting in a padded chair instead of being flesh-jacked by tentacles, but it's fine. They chat over text, a little stilted but plenty to catch up on theunvanquishedzims: Rich spies on the new crew and gossips about how boring they are and how weird the ship looks with everything cleared out and well-lit, and wow where did that section of storage come from? Oh right that used to be a hidden smuggling nook. Haha nook. See they're fine, they're laughing at the same old jokes. DEFINITELY weird that Rich is physically laughing. And then their relief shift comes on, with the new 2nd shift helmsman, and it's time for Rich to get unplugged for the day and go. Go to his room, which he has now, or to eat, which he can do now, or any one of a million things that normal trolls do, because he's a normal troll now. (This is turning out a little different from in my head but I like it.) He makes it about two hallways, walking silently side-by-side with Trimmer, before he breaks down. Or rather Trimmer breaks down. Or maybe they both simultaneously break, there is a lot of breaking happening, and it's not great that it's happening in the hall where anybody could walk by and where the new helmsman is almost certainly seeing them and possibly reporting them, and Trimmer's flight instincts are to run back to the helm where it's safe but Rich isn't there, RICH was the reason it was safe and he's not at the helm, he's right there in the hall. Rich, I know not how, picks up Trimmer and gets them to him room. It' close by, thank goodness, and it has a lock on the door, how weird, and Trimmer is there. He missed Trimmer so so much. rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3<3<3<3 theunvanquishedzims: [The following scene contains content too graphic for wigglers under the age of seven sweeps] rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Hardcore conciliation!!! theunvanquishedzims: From Trimmer's POV: Merrill requested him to remain a tech on the Sympatico. Makes sense, he was the only one who treated the guy like an actual troll and not a drooling mass of computational power. They got caught up, it's weird how clean and quiet the ship is, no fights to report beyond a spat in the cafeteria that turned out to be pitch flirtation. His shirtcuffs itch and he wants to roll them up but it's day one of the new empire and he doesn't want to get culled for being untidy on the Empress's pet project ship. There's so many other things to get culled for, anyway. And then shift is over. (Weird, he's used to working 16-hour days and sleeping in the helmdeck half the time.) And he has to unplug Merrill (double weird, he's not used to touching Merrill unless it's for a physical repair. Very aware of Rich as a physical person, especially when he's standing up and not obscured in a mass of tentacles.) And then they leave, together, which is WEIRD, because for sweeps Trimmer has been sneaking out of the helmdeck to go on a food run with Merrill texting him directions, and there's no Merrill on screen providing guidance to avoid fights, but there's not gonna BE any fights, and everything is the same but different and looks weird and shiny and there's a giant troll right next to him, stalking him, why didn't Merrill warn him?! rollerskatinglizard: Oh NO, ahaha, oh these poor doofuses theunvanquishedzims: From Rich's POV: he's been seeing these hallways for sweeps, but not from this angle, the ship is so familiar but so foreign to him, and he can't hear her, can't feel her, and he keeps reaching out for her even after all that training he did to get used to the new tech, there's still an absence and some part of his brain that says not being linked to the ship means something has gone catastrophically wrong and everyone onboard is going to die, TRIMMER is going to die, Trimmer is freaking out and hyperventilating next to him, Trimmer's running out of oxygen and the ship isn't responding to him to tell him what's wrong with the oxygen, and then Trimmer goes to bolt back to the helm but that's full of strange trolls and a new helmsman, and that knowledge is enough to shake him back to the situation at hand. He doesn't know where he finds the strength or the presence of mind, but he manages to grab up Trimmer and get them back to safety. It's just that safety is now his berth, not the helm. They're alone in his berth. And Trimmer is still freaking out. Sh-shoosh? Shoosh. Shooooooosh. theunvanquishedzims: Everything is diamonds and snow and beautiful shining crystals (in the movies that will someday be made about this day.) In the moment there's a lot more hyperventilating and snot. Basically, culmination behind the entire fic: do they actually have feelings for each other, or was it just about mutual survival the whole time? rollerskatinglizard: INCREDIBLY ADORABLE AND INTIMATE COMFORT, *YESSSS* Thank you yes, I'll have a dozen God that's splendid theunvanquishedzims: And they're both freaking out, Rich is hungry and physically tired and needs to do a lot of stretches, Trimmer is not used to Rich being huge and mobile and right next to him, and they both have crazy big trust issues, but...yeah, they're pale. They're so pale for each other, and it was so hard during the transition not seeing each other and not knowing how the other felt, not knowing how THEY felt, if they really had feelings or if it was all a bad situation. And now they know. They have feelings. And because they're trolls and not humans, they can flop on a pile and talk about those feelings in a non-platonic way, and Rich can pet Trimmer's hair and tell him how pretty he is and how Rich is glad that Trimmer got it properly cut instead of just hacking it too short for someone to grab, and how much he worried in the hall about not being able to see farther than his own field of vision to keep Trimmer out of harm's way, and how this whole thing is so weird and Rich is so scared but he's just really, really happy that Trimmer took the posting on the Sympatico, because he pities Trimmer and he wants him around and he was so glad that Trimmer wanted to still be around him too theunvanquishedzims: The media always depicts piling as either the traditional fairytale highblood freakout, or an extremely mellow ASMR-ish chillout with lots of hairpetting and horn polishing. Not two midbloods looting a mostly-empty room for enough junk to make a large enough pile to sit on, shrieking at each other about their feelings and how weird this is and why didn't you SAY something, me?! why didn't YOU say something?! Three SWEEPS we've been dancing around this! Well I didn't know if you felt the same way or if you just needed me to survive! Etc etc etc. Lots of getting up and stomping around , pacing the floor while ranting, trying to scavenge more stuff to throw on the pile. Rich owns basically nothing and it's the first time he's not judging Trimmer for keeping his room a garbage heap, even empty pizza boxes would be better than trying to make a pile out of two sweaters and a toothbrush. rollerskatinglizard: XDDD TuT aaaaah, YES theunvanquishedzims: Rich definitely rips off a wall panel and pulls out some wires, Trimmer doesn't even question it, they've lived and breathed this ship long enough to know what every wire does and which are nonessential to ship functioning. And with the wall panel crunched up they can pile stuff around it to make it seem less sparse, and wow it doesn't even matter that he pulled a panel down, this is HIS wall in HIS room now, he can "redecorate" as he sees fit, cue more yelling about how he doesn't know what to do with himself or his newfound freedom. The whole thing is just yelling and cussing and grabbing and shaking. It probably looks black from the outside, but they are swimming in palest cream. theunvanquishedzims: Eventually they give up on the pile. They go through Rich's entire perigee of snack rations to avoid having to go to the cafeteria, halfheartedly make fun of Rich's chewing, then crawl into the recuperacoon together. Thank goodness there was such a big push to show off how great helmsmen's lives will be, Rich scored a blueblood-huge 'coon and he's still skinny enough that they can both fit in it together. They sleep together, in sopor like proper trolls with proper lives as opposed to surrounded by pink tentacles and misery. Tomorrow they'll have to venture out for food, and do Rich's stretches and physical therapy, and head to their shift like the galaxy hasn't flipped upside-down, but they're handle that together. rollerskatinglizard: Oh help, my heart!! TuT It's SO CUTE, AAAAAAAH theunvanquishedzims: Okay my computer has been trying to shut down for the last three paragraphs so I think it's time to log off for the night, but I hope you enjoy the AUs, I will tell you more tomorrow rollerskatinglizard: Thank you so much!! Have a good night! theunvanquishedzims: (In the original version Rich and Trimmer came face-to-face for the first time since the Sympatico was busted up and Rich pulled out for rehab, and basically had a giant pale meltdown right there against the wall. There was purring, and crying, and confessions, all caught on film. Athena and Angie definitely saw. It had to be censored out of the broadcast. Someone uploaded it to Troll Pornhub and it won a Troll Pornhub Emmy for Truth in Journalism, which was not a category the Troll Pornhub Emmys had before, so congrats Merrill and Trimmer) rollerskatinglizard: *dying* oh my GOD Rich would blush so hard he'd keel over

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theunvanquishedzims: I woke up to the idea of Rich as Fezzik and Trimmer as Inigo Montoya (book version.) rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Oh man, delightful theunvanquishedzims: Soft-hearted giant and stabby little friend rollerskatinglizard: Yesss theunvanquishedzims: Only problem is Trimmer's grudge seems to be against the entire world, not any particular murderer theunvanquishedzims: But they could definitely take on the Zoo of Death together rollerskatinglizard: It could be both, in the AU! Specific grudge and also he hates everyone theunvanquishedzims: Instead of not being left-handed he pulls his feet out of his boots and surprise! More hands to stab you with Makes the acrobatics on top of the cliff more exciting rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES Perfect! theunvanquishedzims: I don't know who the Man in Black of most beautiful woman in the world would be, but Rich catching them jumping out a window to whisk them away on horseback is lovely rollerskatinglizard: *strokes chin thoughtfully* If Rich is Fezzik, I think Basil might as well be the beautiful love interest, and Mitch is his farm boy turned dashing rogue theunvanquishedzims: Mitch and Trimmer sword fighting rollerskatinglizard: YES theunvanquishedzims: Mitch going through hell and back to save his lady love, then Rich shows up with the horses and says "hello pretty lady" and Basil is just swooning over him rollerskatinglizard: Mitch is pretty chill with Rich by then, he can handle sharing Rich didn't try *hard* to kill him, after all theunvanquishedzims: He even made it a fair fight instead of ambushing him He put down the rock and Mitch put down the sword and they tried to kill each other like civilized people rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Yes, exactly theunvanquishedzims: Rich even helped bring him back from being mostly dead rollerskatinglizard: They're practically best buddies now! theunvanquishedzims: Which I imagine is 1000x funnier because Trimmer hates this guy and doesn't want to help him but he has info Trimmer needs rollerskatinglizard: Rich just being reprovingly like Come on, buddy, he's cool really I KNOW you bonded over your sword fight with him Don't lie Trimmer: HE'S STILL A DIPSHIT theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: It was a little fun to take the boots off I guess, I don't get to do that often rollerskatinglizard: Hahaha yes theunvanquishedzims: Downside of being the best swordsman in the world, nobody can touch you. UNTIL NOW. Trimmer: I killed the guy but now I have nothing to live for. Mitch: Have you considered piracy? Stabbing people all day and all the rope ladders you can climb rollerskatinglizard: *dying* theunvanquishedzims: Now Trimmer's life goal is to reclaim his title of Best Swordsman, which means fighting Mitch a lot rollerskatinglizard: Which they both enjoy Sometimes Trimmer wins, sometimes Mitch does rollerskatinglizard: Roach points out that Liam would be Miracle Max theunvanquishedzims: I was just about to type that! rollerskatinglizard: Heee! Good brain wave theunvanquishedzims: You need a cure for death? Nope, sorry. You need to it humiliate my mortal enemy? Coming right up! rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: Slipping Rich the holocaust cloak "because it fits so nice" rollerskatinglizard: Pfff yes theunvanquishedzims: Which is said with a million more winky faces than the movie rollerskatinglizard: XDDD Naturally Liam is a much higher-libido mad scientist-substitute theunvanquishedzims: He doesn't have a wife he has like six boyfriend minions hanging around in various states of undress. He got fired for banging the king when he was the royal miracle man, he did a good job but the prince found it icky. rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES theunvanquishedzims: Basil as Buttercup tho. Basil: Mitch is a good friend. :) Just a great buddy. :)) Kind of smelly but a nice boy. :))) Someone: *might possibly find Mitch attractive* Basil: What? Why. No. Why would she. I mean yeah he's smart and muscular and tan and broad-shouldered and has perfect teeth and his sweat glistens in the sun as he does his chores shirtless, but c'mon, he's not THAT much hotter than her middle-aged husband. No way. rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* rollerskatinglizard: My cowriters very enjoy this AU concept, btw, thank you theunvanquishedzims: Excellent theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: I told him I was there to kill him and he just...ran away? Mitch: Who does that? rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* theunvanquishedzims: Basil being a slobby peasant until two minutes after Mitch leaves, then realizing he has to take care of himself if he wants to keep Mitch's attention, and only then starting to regularly bathe and brush his hair and work on his figure. rollerskatinglizard: Snirk! Sounds about right, doofus nerd that he is theunvanquishedzims: Then he becomes a princess and has two servants per limb to keep him clean and shining, so when Mitch sneaks into the wedding announcement crowd his first view of Basil is 1. clean 2. shiny hair 3. dressed like a queen

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General book chit-chat, no specific AU

theunvanquishedzims: I saw the post about the Sympatico crew having a very different view of Rich than his friends and now I am consumed with the idea of Rich being seen as scary by anyone who knows him for more than a single minute. Like, he flinches at the sight of a uniform, he can't stand to be in a room with more than one other person in it, and he's so busy working he doesn't really have time to go around carving out a territory rollerskatinglizard: Right? You'd think it'd be tricky, but apparently no theunvanquishedzims: And now there's video of him covered in kittens, and doing cool board tricks, and pretending a little barbel is too heavy to lift, and also he might be in the news for taking down a murderous conspiracy at the Mall. rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Indeed theunvanquishedzims: Where did big scary monster Merrill go, who is this marshmallow rollerskatinglizard: What scam is he trying to run?!? theunvanquishedzims: Oooh, I pity the fool who is assigned to a boat with Officer Merrill. Double flinch response rollerskatinglizard: RIGHT? *OH SHIT, THERE'S ANOTHER ONE* And she's ARMED theunvanquishedzims: Try to blow off some steam by watching some wrestling, A THIRD ONE rollerskatinglizard: Some poor dumbass who sneered at Trimmer once ends up hiding out on a penny boat bc there's MERRILLS EVERYWHERE, IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE theunvanquishedzims: *dying laughing* I imagine a non-terrible Sympatico crew member meeting reformed Rich is like those Very Special Episodes where the hero's high school bully or childhood bad influence friend comes to town, and they're so nice and friendly and apologetic about what happened back in the day rollerskatinglizard: We actually have an encounter something like that planned! theunvanquishedzims: The hero's friends are all charmed and the hero can't convince anyone that it's all an act, he's secretly still terrible, look I'll prove it *does something that makes the hero look bad and the reformed guy look like a victim* Yaaaaaaaaay!!! Outside perspective is the BEST rollerskatinglizard: Rich and this random dude, both acting like the other one is a total menace Meanwhile, anyone who's known either of them since is like ....No?? He's a fine guy, perfectly reasonable Merrill, stop growling theunvanquishedzims: Two Spider-Men pointing at each other rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Yes theunvanquishedzims: Also the fact that Rich has gotten BIGGER since leaving the Sympatico is probably a shock rollerskatinglizard: OH yeah theunvanquishedzims: Richard "Cranky Because He's Slowly Starving To Death" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: I mean, it's a shock to Rich When he hits another growth spurt So it's definitely a shock to anyone else theunvanquishedzims: Oh yeah, he was like 17 when he was first assigned there, nowhere near done growing yet Richard "My Shirts Rip When I Flex Wrong" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* He'd look so sheepish and disgruntled if someone gave him that "I flexed and the sleeves fell off" shirt theunvanquishedzims: I am so glad Trimmer got to him before, like, a gang could figure out he's easily bribed with food. Things could have gone so much worse, corruption-wise rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: I just finished Athena and the Midnight Chicken and WOW Rich was actually kind of close to giving in to peer pressure there, if Athena hadn't thrown herself towards the proverbial sword he might have let himself be talked into something he really didn't want to do. rollerskatinglizard: It's possible! Baby Rich is very weak to peer pressure theunvanquishedzims: If they had been smart and manipulative and laid the groundwork first it would have been even easier, not just "here's a knife let your ingrained killing instincts do the work" rollerskatinglizard: Yeah! It could've gone much worse theunvanquishedzims: In the wrong hands Rich would make a very good, very sad soldier But like, deep down inside sad where no one could see it. rollerskatinglizard: That was actually close to his original story when I came up with him

[I’ll check with Skates to see if it’s okay to post that bit]

theunvanquishedzims: I'm already nervous about those two Horrible Old Men rollerskatinglizard: Which two? theunvanquishedzims: My face went D: at the idea that there's more than two rollerskatinglizard: *pats u gently* theunvanquishedzims: The werewolf guy with the boys on leashes is the one that makes my instincts scream KILL IT WITH FIRE, but there's also the one with the scar on his face? I wanna say Arthur Carroway rollerskatinglizard: >u> Gosh, Zims, idk WHY you'd be worried about him Just bc my tablet keyboard knows how to spell Carraway That's no reason to be concerned! rollerskatinglizard: Maybe Splick made him the [tarot] Devil bc he's devilishly handsome! Did you think of that?? theunvanquishedzims: I am terrified of him showing up, I know I'll be cringing too hard to keep reading right away. Men who abuse positions of power are so squicky, I couldn't even stand to watch the Office and Michael Scott is like, the most benign example of the trope But yeah a guy like that getting to Rich as a younger more mallable person, fresh-faced and eager to please. Ugh. Such a bad ending. rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: William Sandgren is the other one, I think rollerskatinglizard: Fortunately Rich did get rescued originally! I don't do sad endings theunvanquishedzims: He looks cool, I don't immediately want him dead for my own safety rollerskatinglizard: <u< theunvanquishedzims: ...I will ignore that face and continue to think of him as the lesser of two evils for now rollerskatinglizard: Absolutely feel free! ^u^ theunvanquishedzims: When I thought about this earlier I imagined Liam actually being the one to start a pissing contest with Arthur. Rich guy vs criminal guy, my grandmother bedazzled the skulls of her enemies, your teeth would make a lovely necklace, etc etc "Well I'd love to get them around your throat" ;) rollerskatinglizard: You know Liam QUITE well theunvanquishedzims: I'm a visual learner, so all the illustrations are helping me flesh out characteristics. Liam smiling like a psycho while his face drips blood is very telling. rollerskatinglizard: Hah!!! Right? God, he's SUCH a little firebrand theunvanquishedzims: (Also, AU where Liam is the babydoll heir and Rich is the soldier mod bodyguard he climbs like a tree) rollerskatinglizard: We have definitely discussed that AU thoughtfully >u> It's good, v tasty theunvanquishedzims: Rich is all THIS GOES AGAINST THE RULES and Liam is all oh you like being told what to do hmm? >:3~ rollerskatinglizard: Rich: God this is SUCH a bad idea, I'm gonna get so fired Liam: Not if you're good enough at it! theunvanquishedzims: I imagine without a pregnancy they'd be able to keep it under wraps slightly longer than grandma Beaker rollerskatinglizard: True! theunvanquishedzims: "Under wraps" like everyone in the house can't hear them rollerskatinglizard: Pffff YUP theunvanquishedzims: Ugh now I'm remembering Trimmer being scared of Rich getting drunk and pushy and I'm sad again rollerskatinglizard: No one likes Rich's drinking except Rich rollerskatinglizard: It's okay tho, Trimmer trusts Rich more after that theunvanquishedzims:I think he'll figure it out given enough time. Rich: Well everyone drinks because work sucks. Basil and Mitch: Nope! Rich: Well I'm a soldier mod so it just LOOKS like I'm drinking a lot. Angie and Thena: Nope! Rich: Well I have trauma from the Sympatico so I need alcohol to deal with that. Trimmer: Nope! Rich: ...well I guess I have a problem then. :< Everyone: Yep! rollerskatinglizard: Indeed theunvanquishedzims: I am so curious about their origins, how the relationship developed, how apparently they had half a handjob between them and went NOPE NEVER AGAIN, how they wound up co-sleeping, if they ever cried on one another, etc etc rollerskatinglizard: I'm 100% certain that Rich cried on Trimmer at least once, while Trimmer awkwardly patted his hair and gently called him a wuss or something If Trimmer ever cried it would've been in the middle of the night, and none of them would ever mention it in the light of day theunvanquishedzims: Was that Trimmer's first posting? I know it was Rich's, so he kiiiind of didn't know any better, but Trimmer is older by a bit rollerskatinglizard: It definitely wasn't Trimmer's first, no, the latest in a long string of postings that went from okay to bad to worse theunvanquishedzims: Oh nooooooo No wonder he finally said screw it and got a solo boat rollerskatinglizard: Yep

#michigan fleet #boat boys #AUs are still my favorite thing #long post #richard merrill #joseph trimmer

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nosferatyou · 5 years ago

Text

Double Indemnity: Ch.1 (Josh Kiszka x Reader)

Summary: After an incident their freshman year they could barely stand to look at each other. Now it’s their senior year and are grouped together for their final project. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.3k

Authors note: Well. I flipped into Josh’s lane and thought of this sucker and couldn’t get it out of my head. After I heard the story behind the writers of “Double Indemnity” I just had to make this. Heres to me hopefully finishing a series! Enjoy!

Let’s go back to the day when I “met” Josh Kiszka and when I actually met Josh.

It was the summer before my freshman year of college, and at that point, film sets weren’t a stranger to me. But I sure didn’t have the experience that most of the already film majors around me had. I was roped in by my long time friend Jack who I hadn’t spoken to since graduation, but due to the circumstances, he needed as many crew members as possible. He had 2 days to write, shoot, and cut together a short film. I was a PA (production assistant) and was frantically running around helping in any way I could. I was smart enough to stay out of the way and speak up when needed.

I met most of the crew except one, the cinematographer/camera op, who was the busiest on set. The exception being Jack, who was the director. I heard the camera OP was only there because he had the nicest camera, but my mind may have tainted what I heard about him that day.

With only an hour to spare we had finished the film. All of us dehydrated and starving, sleep-deprived too. I was cradling a horrendous migraine from the lack of water and was ready to leave before someone suggested we go to Cookout. Which is arguably the best food at 3 am.

Against my will, I was dragged to the fast-food restaurant with the rest of the crew. At that point, I was barely conscious and sat in the back seat of Jack’s car. The stranger cinematographer who I hadn’t noticed was next to me until he tapped my shoulder. With a concerned look, asked me if I was okay and needed anything. Which was nice of him considering we’d never spoken.

After the short exchange of words, he never seemed to fully leave my side. May it be his glances from across the table with the same concerned look, or him bring me cups of water, which I still don’t remember him getting up for.

After that night it would be months until I see him again.

I didn’t expect him to be in my Post Production class, but I was definitely happy to see him. It was my first day of classes and to see a familiar face was a nice change of pace compared to whirlwind of a day. Though it wasn’t too long after that that my feelings for him changed.

If you’re a film student you’re going to edit a Gunsmoke fight scene, it is basically a right of passage. Anyways I was an experienced editor and of course, was going to cut the fight scene to the beat of an Ennio Morricone song. If we were going to work on a western scene then Ennio was a must.

I was damn proud of my work, I seemed to be one of the best editors in the class, josh being right there with me. We didn’t exchange many words, but we kept each other company by simply sitting next to each other.

Then came the critique day, when everyone watches your video and gives you notes. Usually its never good notes.

After our class watched it everyone had a lot to say, mostly over small slip-ups I didn’t notice, that’s normal. Josh’s video was next and the moment the music played I was livid, he had used the same exact song, even cut it the same way I did. The worst part was that no one had anything bad to say about it, all good comments. I kept it contained, for the most part. I didn’t verbally say anything, but my constant tapping and dirty looks in his direction said otherwise. I don’t think he’d noticed.

I waited until everyone left and simply gave him a piece of my mind. Maybe I snapped at him… either way, it led to us getting into our first screaming match. Josh saying he “didn’t” copy my video and me disagreeing. I honestly don’t remember how it ended, but I do remember us getting kicked out of the building for it.

Anyways that was three years ago, and we still hate each other. Yet here we are still in all the same classes, but the difference is we have silent warfares. Constantly competing with each other, showing each other our higher grades, and besting each other’s videos. I can barely stand to hear him talk anymore, but I do have to say. He knows how to make a good line.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even with the cold chill of the November air prickling my skin and the wind whipping my hair, my mood couldn’t be damped. Maybe “chill” is an understatement. Living in “The City by the Lake” aka Chicago brings on the harshest of winters, and as crazy as it seems, I always weirdly miss it when I go back to Michigan. Sure it has it’s many feet of snow, but Chicago makes the wind weirdly dazzling.

This is my last coffee, I’ll switch to tea. Is something I say every morning when I get up before classes, but here I am again, with an out of place cold brew in hand and a raging caffeine addiction. In hindsight, it is better than my previous vice, cigarettes, but the headaches it brings on is just as bad as missing a cig. My one hand shoved in my pocket and the other is clutching the same cold brew as before. I may have said that I couldn’t be bothered by the weather, but I’m not immune.

As soon as I enter Columbia’s Media Production building everything becomes flush with warmth. Its a bit uncomfortable really. I remove my gloves and quickly checked my phone, affirming that I’m right on time as always. As I stroll through the halls I tune more into the music, enjoying my free time. There is just something about Chet Baker and Chicago that just mixes so well.

Todays a good day though, it marks my one year of quitting cigs. Did I mention that I quit? Because I quit. Anyways my roommate made a big deal out of it, I also figured out the coolest riff, I’m kind of shit at making music out of thin air so it’s a big day.

After taking the long way to my Directing class (Cinema Directing III if you want to get technical) I finally made it to the small class. Most of the class was there, luckily for me my two-year seat partner, Gwen, was already there, waiting where she always does. We met in our Single Cam 1 class and have been inseparable since, well actually Gwen, Cora (the previously mentioned roommate), and I have been inseparable ever since.

I made my way to my usual seat and peeled my overworn leather bomber jacket off, already feeling more comfortable. Slumping back in my chair I lazily grabbed my sketchbook and pencil out of my bag. Its become a kind of habit to draw my professors and classmates every day, something is just so fascinating about their compositions. I got to work on Gwen who was hunched over, focusing on her book in front of her. I got to work and as soon as I finished up on the basic shapes she quickly sat up, focusing on me.

“You ready for the final project?” She questioned, stealing my coffee in the process.

“I’ve been working on a few ideas already, but then again I don’t know the assignment yet. I do know I will be grabbing the usual 4 of you the moment he says “groups.”

“Heres to hoping we can pick- Oh!” She almost spilled my coffee when she interrupted herself.

“I forgot to text you! Happy one year of being ciggy free!” She exclaimed, handing me back the bottle.

I took a swig from the bottle when she gave it back. “Well thank you, darling. I feel like having clean lungs shouldn’t be such an achievement, but I guess here we are.”

“Be proud! Besides gives us a reason to head to Jerry’s.”

“We’d celebrate over anything if it meant going to Jerry’s and getting pissed.” I smirked at her.

“Well. You got me there. Anyways you are right, we will be getting drunk out of our minds tonight. Bless the man who decided to open a bar directly next to your apartment building.” She said, with a playful smile on her lips.

“Bless him indeed.” I laughed.

At that moment I locked eyes with none other than the aforementioned, Josh Kiszka. It’s oddly enough what we do every time we see each other. Which is more often than I think both of us care for. But seeing him roll his eyes every time I glare at him is kind of fun.

I followed him with my eyes as he sat down in his seat, instantly sticking his nose in- wait what is he reading? I focused and realized he was reading the screenplay for Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs.” Where the hell did he even get that?

My eyes snapped up to the professor when I realized he started class.

“Alright, I’m just going to jump into this. Today we start on your final projects, and I think it’ll be very fun. A challenge for sure, but fun nonetheless.”

I slipped a sly smile to Gwen, already thinking of the best ideas in my arsenal to use.

“In groups, you all will be recreating a favorite film, but it should max be 20 minutes long. Now that’ll be your job to rewrite and format it so you can fit in the timeframe. Oh, and I swear to god if another person does Pulp Fiction I will actually scream. You can hold me to that.”

Oh Jesus okay this will be hard as hell, I guess something with a simpler plot will be easy. Ooh, or something that’s so overcomplicated I can rewrite it so it’s simpler. What’s something that’d be good for Gwen, she’s a good actress, but she can only play so much-

“I already have your groups picked out let me just put them up on the board.” My professor said, searching for the list on his computer.

Oh god. He’s never done this. We always pick groups. If Gwen and I aren’t grouped together I may just riot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him drag the document over to the screen, so I quickly directed my attention to it.

I searched all of the lists, finally finding my name at the top of group four. Rob, Eric, and- Oh shit Gwen! Wait. There’s one more. The moment I saw the J I knew exactly who it was. My eyes darted over to Josh’s seat and had the same look I could only guess that was on my face. We both glared at each other, if we stared any harder we’d burn holes in each other.

“Motherfucker!” I whispered to Gwen, trying not to raise my voice.

“What? We are in the same group.” she looked back over to me with confusion on her face. She followed my eyes to the equally angry man across the room from me.

“Oh, shit..”

“Oh shit is right! I can’t work with that guy, I swear to god… Damn it, I can’t think of an insult! Quick help me!” I stammered out, you could practically see the steam coming out of my ears.

“Um... You can’t work with that Frodo look alike?” She suggested, both of us whispering to each other now,

“I’ll take it. I can’t work with that Frodo look alike! He’s just gonna take all of my good ideas and throw them into the lava like that fucking ring. Wait is it Frodo or sam who throws it? Know what, I don’t care. Look at what he’s making me forget important plot points in movies. I can’t work with someone who hinders my thinking process.”

“First off, Gollum falls in with the ring in hand. Secondly, drink your coffee and focus on what movie we should do. Suggest something so good so fast that it’ll make his head spin.”

She put the almost empty coffee in my hands and I took a swig, still glancing back at josh, making the same face.

Gwen started to ramble on, her words in the back of my mind. All I could focus on was wanting to be in any other group than his, even Leonard. He refuses to watch a Tarantino film, and simply because he thinks he’s beyond that. Leonard is someone I talk to if only necessary.

I tuned back in to hear. “I mean if you think about it, as much as you and Josh are to Frodo and the Ring. You’re more like Billy Wilder and Ray Chandler. I mean they hated each other, but damn if they weren’t good writers. Plus, they respect a good line-”

Inspiration was swept over me. I knew exactly what we had to do. Before I knew what was happening my feet carried themself over to Josh’s seat. Same as before, we both had the same expression, except this time it was one of surprise.

“Double Indemnity!” I blurted out a bit too loudly.

He seemed even more confused. “Double insurance money?” He questioned.

“Fuck. No. It’s the film we are going to make. It’s a fantastic idea, and it’s happening. Not even you can argue with me!” I sped out.

He sat for a moment in thought, his brows furrowed together and a cliche hand positioned on his chin.

“Fine.” Is all he said, his arms were crossed. He seemed defeated.

I simply turned on my heel and headed back to my seat. An overexcited grin plastered to my face.

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka fic #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka x reader #double indemnity #my fic #double indemnity series

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thehelleniclunarwitch · 6 years ago

Text

Dark Desire [Chapter One]

Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington

Warning: Language

Yeah sorry, I don’t even know what this is. It’s a mafia au and a mess but I hope you enjoy it!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The room was dead quiet. All eyes were on Billy. He never started a meeting without his right-hand man. He knew Steve was going to be late. Billy could have easily pushed the meeting to a later time, but he enjoyed watching the others squirm under his watchful eye. A toothpick hung out of the corner of his mouth. He anxiously chewed on it.

Steve and Billy were an unlikely pair. They were rivals in school. Both of them had grown up in the business. Steve’s father was a huge mob boss. Ran all of Indiana, almost half of Ohio, and the lower part of Michigan. Billy was a nobody from California who got transferred into the private school in Hawkins.

Billy never hated Steve. He just saw him as competition, but that all changed when the two of them got stuck in detention together and Billy learned that Steve wanted nothing to do with the family business. He hated his parents. Steve had wanted to go out on his own and make a name for himself.

That’s when Billy had struck up the deal between the two. After high school, they would head back out to Billy’s old stomping grounds in California. They would build an empire from the ground up together. Slowly, make their way back and take everything from Steve’s father. Surprisingly, Steve didn’t even hesitate to take the deal.

The boys shook hands and that was the end of the rivalry. It had begun a beautiful friendship and partnership. That’s exactly what happened too. After graduation, Steve told his parents to shove it, packed up most of his belongings and then headed west to California with Billy at his side.

Billy had the reputation back home. When he arrived with Steve in tow it didn’t take long for the two of them to start building that partnership. They took down other mob families. Gathered up all of the surrounding territories. The two of them continued to on the warpath right up until it brought them to Indiana.

The pair wanted to make Steve’s dad sweat. Make him a little nervous. At first, they left Indiana alone. They took control of all of Ohio and the whole lower peninsula of Michigan. Then with one last trick up their sleeve, they snatched most of the territory in Illinois and upper Kentucky completely surrounding Steve’s father.

The pair had been successful. Steve’s father stared at Billy from the other end of the table. Billy sat up a little straighter when the door to the room finally opened. Steve and all of his glorious hair stepped in the room. He shot Billy a brilliant smile and Billy couldn’t help but smile back.

“Steve?” Mr. Harrington said in confusion.

“Sorry to keep all of you waiting,” Steve apologized as he came to take the seat right of Billy.

“No worries, we have all the time in the world,” Billy smiled.

Mr. Harrington looked at his son horrified.

“You’re doing this to me? You’re the one who is trying to flush me out?” Mr. Harrington asked.

“Come on now, Pops, you can’t be completely surprised. There had to have been some whisperings about what I was up to,” Steve said tilting his head to look at his aging father.

“I’ve heard things I just couldn’t believe it,” Mr. Harrington said shaking his head.

“Now that my business partner is here I think we have something to discuss,” Billy said.

“Business partner?” Mr. Harrington said in disbelief.

“I told you years ago, Pops, I wanted nothing to do with your business, not the business itself,” Steve explained.

Mr. Harrington sat back in shock.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all aware that we have taken over almost all of your territory around here. Including other territories from other families,” Billy began.

“Hawkins is the last piece of the puzzle,” Steve said.

“Do you really think that I would willingly sell you, Hawkins?” Mr. Harrington asked in disgust.

Billy smiled.

“Well, you don’t have much of an option, Pops. You either willingly give us Hawkins and we take it from you. And trust me you don’t want us to take it from you. Ask the Andersons how well that worked out for them,” Steve said.

Billy laughed. “Oh right, you can’t, unless you head to the bottom of Lake Michigan for a little chat,”

“This is my home. Our home. Where would your mother and I go if I were to give this to you?” His father asked.

Steve looked bored. Rolling his eyes, he sat back in his chair, his hands went behind his head with a calm and relaxed face. Mr. Harrington surged to his feet. He stared at Billy then locked eyes with his son.

“You will have to pry my money, my home, and my town from my cold dead fingers,” Mr. Harrington snarled.

Billy started to laugh. Mr. Harrington glanced a look at his son, but Steve was only staring at him. There was no sympathy or regret in his eyes. No, his son, his only child looked at him like he was nothing.

Billy sat forward resting his hands against the table. Mr. Harrington watched him with careful eyes. Billy’s laughter faded and his smile fell. He nodded to somebody behind Mr. Harrington. Two large hands came to grab Mr. Harrington by his arms. He began thrashing around trying to free himself.

“You know what to do with him,” Billy said.

“Sir,” Tommy said with a nod before dragging Mr. Harrington from the room.

When his father was finally gone Steve sat up a little straighter. He looked at the other men in the room.

“You have two choices here gentlemen. You can either jump ship, come to work with Billy and me or face the same ending as my father,” Steve said.

The men all looked around at each other.

“I always knew you’d be a better leader than your father,” Mr. Miller said.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Steve’s lips.

“Is that how everyone else feels?” Billy asked.

Slowly, the others nodded along in agreement.

Billy clapped his hands together in excitement. He had won. This was everything that he wanted.

“Perfect, when Tommy returns he’ll tell you what happens next,” Billy said standing.

Steve stood, straightened his jacket, and then ran a hand through his hair. Saying nothing else, Billy left the room with Steve hot on his heels. The screams of his father echoed down the hallway as he followed Billy out of the warehouse. The slick black Camara that was Billy’s pride and joy sat at the curb waiting for them.

The men climbed into the car. Billy started the engine and then looked over at Steve. His friend was staring straight ahead. Billy knew that Steve wasn’t regretting his decisions or having second thoughts, but this man was still his father.

“You know you’re doing the right thing,” Billy began.

Steve whipped his head to the side to look at his partner.

“Oh, I know. I have other things on my mind,” Steve replied.

“Your mother?” Billy asked.

Steve shook his head. “Somebody else from my past,”

“Do you want to talk about them?” Billy asked.

Steve sighed. Billy may be one tough son of a bitch and fucking psychotic but he was one damn good friend.

“Not right now. It’s a discussion for another day,” Steve said.

Billy nodded and dropped the subject. When Steve was ready to talk Billy would be ready for him. Pulling away, Billy drove them back to Hawkins where they were staying at the hotel until they could decide on where they wanted to settle in yet.

The pair stopped for some supplies and dinner. When they entered the hotel lobby the girls behind the desk greeted them with large grins and giggles. Steve rolled his eyes, but Billy ate up the attention. They rode the elevator up to the penthouse level, the elevator dinged, and the door slid open.

Steve and Billy had barely stepped off and into the penthouse with a fiery redhead was there greeting them with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips.

“What took you so long?” She demanded.

“Maxine,” Billy greeted his sister.

Max scoffed. “Stop calling me that,”

Steve only smirked as he handed her a bag of food.

“Sorry, sweetheart, something came up at the office,” Billy said flopping down on the couch.

“You were supposed to register me for high school today,” Max said.

“Steve and I will take care of it tomorrow,” Billy said before shoveling some fries into his mouth.

Max dropped down on the loveseat next to Steve. He kicked his feet up on the table and let out a sigh. She bit into her burger as she scowled at her brother.

“Listen, I’ll make it up to you,” Billy started.

“Oh, this should be good. There’s nothing to do in this bumfuck town,” Max complained.

“Language!” Steve hissed around a mouthful of milkshake.

Max rolled her eyes. “Well let’s hear it,”

“We’ll take you house hunting. You can have a big say in what we buy,” Billy said.

Max’s eyes lit up.

“And if I want a pool?” Max asked.

“If that’s what you want,” Billy said.

Max glanced up at Steve. He winked at her and she smiled.

“Alright, fine, that’s fair, but be warned you’re going to hate that you just agreed to that,” Max said.

Billy let out a loud laugh. “Oh, little sister, I already do,”

After dinner, Billy and Steve made sure that Max had all the right papers for her transfers. Confirmed their plans for tomorrow and then left Max to get around for bed. Billy received a phone call so he left Steve to his own. Max was staring at him from the bathroom.

“What now?” Steve asked.

“I haven’t seen Billy this happy in a long time. Did everything go okay?” Max asked.

Steve nodded. “We got what we wanted,”

“Then why do you look like shit?” Max asked.

Steve sighed. “This place just brings up a lot of memories,” Steve told her.

“Like a certain girl?” Max asked.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Steve said with a small smile.

“Are you going to tell her you’re home?” Max asked.

Steve shrugged.

“Why not?” Max asked.

“I’m not the guy she thinks I am,” Steve said.

“Who cares,” Max said.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Steve said.

“Steve you’re great. You’ve made my brother a better person and I never thought that was possible. Talk to her,” Max said.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “When did you become such an expert in the romance department?”

“I read a lot,” Max grinned.

Steve chuckled and then ruffled her hair. Billy called out for Steve. Max shut the bathroom door as Steve headed into the living room area of their penthouse. Billy sat on the edge of the couch he was just lighting up a cigarette.

“Well Tommy went over all of the paperwork your father had stashed away in his house,” Billy said.

“And what did Tommy find?” Steve asked.

“There’s one piece of major property that your father doesn’t own,” Billy said.

Steve looked at him in confusion. And then slowly it all started to make sense to him. More than five acres of woods was owned by Jim Hopper. The Chief of police. And her brother. His girl’s brother. Fuck.

“Chief Hopper isn’t just going to give up his property. There’s a reason why he never sold out to my dad,” Steve explained.

“Well maybe we can be a little more convincing,” Billy said.

Steve took the cigarette from Billy and took a hit.

“Actually, I think I know of another way,” Steve said.

Billy cocked an eyebrow.

“Really?” Billy asked.

“Chief Hopper’s younger sister is two years younger than us. She was my best friend growing up,” Steve began.

“A cop’s sister friends with the mobster’s kid?” Billy asked with a laugh.

Steve smiled. “Seems funny, but Chief Hopper never told her about what was going on. She was kept in the dark. She doesn’t know about me and my connections to the mafia,”

Billy was intrigued.

“Well I think it’s necessary that I’m introduced to this young lady immediately,” Billy said.

“Soon. Could I talk to her first?” Steve asked.

“Of course. You do what you think is necessary,” Billy replied.

“She could be our ticket,” Steve said.

“You were friends. I trust you to talk to her, Steve,” Billy said.

“I’ll go after we take Max to register for school,” Steve told him.

“What is the Chief of police’s sister up to?” Billy asked.

“I heard she was a florist,” Steve said.

Billy tipped his head back and laughed. “Perfect, we’re almost out of black roses. Be a dear and see if she can get any in stock for us and keep them in stock,”

Steve shot his friend a look. “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious having the local florist keep our signature on stock?”

“I think it sounds like a fun time. I’m not trying to hide who we are and why we are here Steve,” Billy said.

“But I want to do this without dragging her into the mess,” Steve argued.

“Do what you need to do, Steve,” Billy said.

Steve sighed.

“Be a dear and pour me a glass of whiskey,” Billy said.

Steve pushed up off the couch and headed over to the bar in the corner. He poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed Billy one glass and then sat back down on his friend. Billy leaned against him as he sipped at his drink.

“I forgot to tell you,” Billy started.

“Tell me what?” Steve asked.

“Welcome home,” Billy grinned with a small chuckle.

Steve snorted as he brought his glass up to his lips. “Yeah, sure, welcome home,”

#Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove x Reader #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x Reader #Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington #fan fic #mafia au #stranger things #aged up characters #max mayfield

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scabbursarchive · 6 years ago

Note

you know I can't choose just ONE this is veronarchie we're talking about!! Voice, Beg, Check-In :)

[ Send me a word & a ship and I’ll write a drabble or starter about… ]

becca….. rebecca………. beccothy………………..first of all one of these was the smutiest things i’ve probably ever attempted to ever write and the other two were a mess but everything is Long because i had a lot of feels and sO…… i am sorry.

VOICE

[ DID I BASE THIS PROMPT OFF OF THIS????? SURE DID!!!! ]

what’re you wearing?

well, i’m not wearing any underwear. ;)

because you never put the fucking laundry into the fucking dryer like i asked you to 100 fucking times

call me and i’ll make it up to you

please?

Archie watched as text bubbles blinked across the lower left of the screen before stopping, and finally her contact photo with her and Mia at a hockey game crossed the screen. He wasted no time in accepting the call, knowing she could practically hear his fucking grin over the telephone.

“You’re an idiot.”

“But you love me. Seriously, though. What’re you wearing?”

He could hear her sigh at the other end of the line. “What do you want me to say? Nothing but your jersey?” her voice teased deeply before he heard her soft snort.

Archie laughed as he settled back against his hotel bed, his gaze turning up towards the ceiling as he imagined her in their bedroom back home. “No, because I don’t want some dumb fantasy. I just want you. Which dorky pajamas are you wearing? The ones with the sushi rolls?” he continued to tease, resting his hand on his abs.

“Fuck you, they’re comfy. And I’m wearing the sushi shorts, but I do have one of your shirts on, too. The Naperville Soccer League shirt with the hole in the armpit. Super dorky.”

“Mmmm, okay. Now this I can picture. Lose my shirt, I’ll wash it when I get back.”

“You’re not going to wash shit, Payne. You’ll toss your suitcase in the closet until you forget about it and then you’ll complain that you don’t have anything to wear.”

“Well I always have said we should adopt a no clothing policy in the home.”

“Yeah, that’ll blow over well with your 9 year old daughter.”

“Spitzke,” Archie groaned out a laugh, rolling his eyes. He might have put a ring on her finger just a few months back, but the old surname rivalry would always stick with the two of them. “Can you please stop talking about Mia and my laundry and just stick your fucking hand down your ugly shorts?”

——————-

BEG

Veronica tugged sharply at the short strands of hair on Archie’s head, the move practically causing tears to form in his eyes as he hissed against her nether lips. He shot a sharp glare up at her from where he lay between her thighs, though Veronica was wholly unaware of the look; her head tossed back against her pillows, dark hair surrounding her, sheens of sweat covering her heaving chest. Archie moved his hand from where it had been wrapped around her thigh and moved it up her body to give one of her nipples a sharp twist and a pinch in retaliation for taking his hair out. The move only seemed to spur her on more.

She held onto his head tightly, attempting to anchor his head just right as her hips ground up desperately against his face. He could feel how close she was in the way her body trembled against him; he could hear how close she was by the way her breath grew ragged and her moans grew louder; he could fucking taste how close she was. His tongue moved up from her dripping entrance to circle her clit before he wrapped his lips around it, and her thrusting seized as her body clenched in concentration, just a few seconds longer, and…

Archie pulled away just before she could come apart, his lips moving instead to kiss and nip at her inner thigh while he waited for her to catch her breath.They’d been at this for what felt like hours. Well, for Veronica, maybe. Archie loved nothing more than to tease his girl senseless, and what better way to spend an evening than between her thighs?

Veronica was growing more desperate by the second. And really fucking angry. He hid his smirk by placing a sharp hickey to her thigh, but she slapped his head away, her eyes like fire as she met his juvenile gaze.

“Fuck you, Archibald. Fuck. You. Go away, I can finish it myself, you stupid piece of shit. Asshole.” She ranted and raved; continued to try and push his head away, her heels kicking against his back before her free hand moved between her legs, her fingers circling her clit and —

“Ah ah ah,” Archie quickly wrapped both of his hands around both of her wrists, overpowering her hits and folding her arms over her stomach, pinning them there as he shot her with another glare, now that she could see him.

He knew she was desperate to cum. He’d been hard from the moment he tossed her on the bed and fell between her thighs with the promise in his eyes to make it worth her while. Every shift against the sheets caused his cock to twitch painfully in his boxers, but he was still bound and determined for one thing:

He wanted to hear her beg.

Veronica had always been quite vocal in bed. If he could record the sounds of her moans, he thinks he’d gladly make it his alarm every single morning. She was loud and it was one of his most favorite things (on top of everything else about her, but still). But hearing her so desperate that she literally begged for him? It was at the very tip top of his list.

“Veronica,” he whispered, his lips brushing ever so softly against her clit, his eyes glinting as his breath hit her nether lips. “Ask me nicely…” His hands gripped her wrists tighter before his lips descended back to her pussy once more, avoiding her clit as he softly licked a single stripe up her entrance. “That’s all I want.” He didn’t have to look up to know that she was wild with fury and a deep seated need to release herself in the pleasure that Archie was refusing to give her, but he knew she understood just what he wanted. He chanced his luck releasing one of her wrists to drag his hand back down, over her thigh, through her wetness, continuing to avoid her clit and instead sticking a finger inside her dripping heat. He curled his finger up, dragging slowly against her walls. Her thighs tightened where they splayed over his shoulders and he heard her sharp inhale at the move, but she otherwise remained stubbornly silent.

That was, until he surprised her with a second finger the same time his lips curled back around her clit, sucking relentlessly before slowing down, letting his tongue languidly circle the bundle of nerves. She’d been on edge for awhile now, and building her back up to that sharp peak took barely any work at all. But there was only one way he’d let her get what she wanted (and by default, what he needed as well). “Veronica,” he repeated her name breathlessly, almost positive that the manic look on her face mirrored his own need for release.

And maybe that’s what it took for the dam to finally break. “Please!” Veronica yelped, her free hand moving to grip the sheets tightly, learning her lesson although nothing could stop her hips from desperately moving against his face. She let out a short, sharp, throaty scream when she rubbed herself right up against his stubble, and the accidental brush had only made her more wild. “Fuck. Please, Archie. Pleasepleaseplease pl-please. I want… Need, baby, please.”

If Archie was a stronger person, he’d probably have it in him to ask her to tell him in detail just what she was begging for. But as it was, Archie simply dropped her other wrist, held onto her thigh for dear life as she bucked up against his face… Just as he dragged his chin back over her clit, he added a third finger to piston inside of her and his lips found her bundle once more, another loud smack of his lips as he sucked, and…

Veronica’s back arched up off the bed, her mouth open in a silent scream. Meanwhile, her thighs were trembling over his shoulders while her insides tightly squeezed his fingers and he practically shuddered at the thought of how good it would feel when he was finally inside of her. Her release was fucking gorgeous, she was fucking gorgeous, not regretting for a second just how bad he had to tease her in order to witness this moment. His fingers slowed and his thumb put a circular pressure on her nub to help her come down from her orgasm, his lips kissing over her thighs and up her stomach as he dragged himself up her body by way of his mouth.

Archie fucking loved it when she begged for him.

———————–

CHECK-IN

Their dinner date had started out innocent enough. Archie had managed to sway the manager of Chicago’s latest and greatest high-rise dining at a new hotel overlooking the lake for a 6 o'clock reservation on a Saturday night only a week in advance, and after seeing Veronica in her black, backless dress… Well, the hefty deposit to get a reservation so late was turning out to be well worth it.

Despite the tightness of his chest (among other extremities) when he picked her up around 4 and made their way downtown, it really truly all was very innocent. Getting Veronica to go on an actual date with him had been like pulling teeth (who could blame her?), but the two of them were actually pretty good at it. They still argued, a lot, about literally everything but their common interests and dumbass family made conversation flow in and out of their teasing and bickering effortlessly. Veronica held his hand in hers while she animatedly talked about all of the clients at work that she couldn’t stand (it was all of them) and Archie pulled his phone out to show her all of the cheesy photos he’d taken of Mia at soccer practice (and how he so wasn’t biased but Mia was the best kid on the team).

Conversation was so easy, one bottle of wine turned to two, and even long after they’d finished their dessert, night long since fallen, the skyline reflecting beautifully off of Lake Michigan but Archie only had eyes for the fiery brunette who was glowing in the soft candlelight across from him.

Conversation stilled as Archie paid the check. The duo made their way out of the restaurant while Archie took full advantage of the open back of her dress, his hand softly resting at her lower back to guide her, but he was man enough to admit that it was mostly his innate need to be touching her.

The restaurant had been at the very top of the hotel, and just as Veronica reached out to touch the down button for the elevator, Archie reached out to grip her wrist, tugging her into a tiny alcove off to the corner where there was nothing but a utility closet and some tropical, leafy plant. Trapping her between his hands as he pushed her back to the wall, blocking her from view of anyone who passed, he let his fervent gaze trail over her now that they weren’t separated by a whole table and 30 other random onlookers just trying to eat their dinner. Archie licked his lower lip as his eyes settled on her own wine stained lips, and he leaned forward to close the space between them, needing to steal a quick kiss.

“I mentioned already how beautiful you look, yeah?” he kissed her once more before his lips moved down over her chin, to the crook of her neck as he inhaled her scent; his favorite scent. He felt her chuckle against him, her hand running up his torso, up and around his neck.

“Might have mentioned it once or twice. Not getting tired of hearing it, though.”

He grinned boyishly against her skin before pulling away to meet her captivating gaze, practically suffocating himself with the need to be with her just a little bit longer — before work and life and family and Mia butted back in. Archie loved his life but he was starting to come to terms with just how much he loved Veronica, too.

“You know, we did polish off two bottles and with Saturday night traffic it’s probably best we don’t risk the ticket…” One hand dropped from the wall to run down her side, over the soft, silky material of her dress. The tips of his fingers touched the skin of her back like fire as his graze trailed lower and his hand finally encompassed her back, tugging her body to his, knowing she would probably immediately feel his need for her. Let her call him out for it. “We’re already at a hotel, plenty of beds to sleep it off…”

He’d wanted to drag her back to his place and peel that fucking dress off just to see what kind of underwear she was wearing (he had been very aware from the moment she stepped out the door that she was braless), but Archibald Payne would never go down in history for having any Self Control when it came to Veronica Spitzke. The drive back to Naperville felt far too fucking long.

Before he could even get an answer out of her, Veronica was biting her lower lip between her teeth to hold back her grin, taking his hand in hers and dragging him back to the elevators, reaching out to push the button for one of them rather impatiently. It had been close by, and Archie had been rather thankful for having the elevator to themselves so he could continue to kiss her all the way back down to the lobby for check-in, but before he could pull her back against him, Veronica had her hands pressed to his chest, shoving him indignantly into the corner of the elevator, underneath the security camera, reaching out to grab the emergency stop. She fell against him with the inertia of the quick stop, and Archie’s arms came around to catch her. “Jesus, Veronica, you-”

Archie didn’t know how his pants could come undone so quickly, but she had his zipper yanked down and her hand in his pants before he could even get his words out.

His head fell back against the wall, her grip around his dick causing his vision to go a little blurry but his attention perked right back up when she fell to her knees in front of him, taking his pants down right along with her. Her gaze was teasing as she looked up at him, giving him a couple jerks, feeling himself grow harder in her pliant hands. “Let me take care of this for you first,” she licked up the underside of his cock, a challenge in her fiery gaze as her lips surrounded his head and slowly pulled away with a wet pop. “I don’t want the lady at the front desk to get the wrong impression of us.”

#otp: you have to promise not to fall in love with me #ch: archie payne #opp: veronica spitzke #ref: memes #also my feelings for them??? unlimited :/#help me i still love them sm #imma queue it for like 4 am my time so you're not hit with shitty smut too early in the am #parksandmackie

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sherrybaby14 · 7 years ago

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Two Words

This is for @faegal04 The One Who Hates Thanksgiving Challenge

My prompts is : “All right. Rock, paper, scissors for who has to tell the whore to leave.”

Summary: You return to the clubhouse after being on the run for the past year. Are you ready to return to your old life?

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub undertones, talks of ownership, mention of self-harm.

Characters: Chibs x Reader (This is my first Sons of Anarchy story!)

Tags: @captainemwinchester @kawaiirepublic @buckyscrystalqueen @blondesouthsquad @purplemuse89 @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @taintedgenre @roschelesworld @kellyn1604 @negan--is--god @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @mac5323 @marauderice @thecynicalnerd

The handle was right there. You reached for it, only to pull your hand back, cradling it as if you almost placed your palm into a pit of snakes. You bit your lip. That was exactly what you were doing, diving right back into a pit of vipers.

You turned around and almost broke into a sprint, you envisioned running so fast and hard that your heart would explode. But if you did that the running would never stop. And you were tired. Running was no longer an option. It was time to go home, if he would take you.

The door creaked open and you stepped inside, your nose smacked with the scent of stale beer and cigarette butts. Empty bottle littered the clubhouse bar, but it looked like someone already started picking up, you expect it to be dirtier considering the night before was Black Wednesday.

Your eyes went to the mugshot wall, unsurprisingly a few additional photos had been added. The sneakers you wore didn’t make much noise as you walked over, interested to see who was arrested this year. There he was, the picture newer proving he had a run-in with the law again. Your heart started throbbing at the sight of him.

As if the photo put you in a trance you lifted your hand to run your fingers down his face while the back of your brain screamed at you to run. Running was a better option than this life. At least when you were on the run you had freedom or a sense of it. Here you would be trapped again, owned. You winced your eyes shut and tried to fight off the anxiety. Owned maybe, but protected. Fed. Cherished even.

“Party’s over lady.” An unfamiliar voice made you turn. “It’s Thanksgiving. Get the fuck out of here.”

The prospect didn’t look at you as he threw the empty bottles into the garbage bag with a clink. You had a feeling this was how he was spending his holiday. It never occurred to you that the first person you ran into would be a stranger. You blinked your tears away and tried to think of what to say.

“I mean it. Get the fuck out of here.” The prospect walked around the bar and grabbed your upper arm. “I have enough to do and I’d like to get to Gemma’s before all the turkey is gone.”

He dragged you towards the door, literally taking you out with the trash. You didn’t like his hand on you and felt the panic rise in your chest. Maybe this is what you deserved, what would happen anyway, but it shouldn’t be decided by a prospect.

Mustering all your strength you pulled your fist back and flung it towards his cheek. Your strength was low, but luckily your aim was crap too and you nailed him right in the throat. He dropped your arm and the garbage bag and brought his hands to his knees as he almost keeled over, struggling for air.

You took a few steps back and tripped, landing on your ass with a thud. The prospect looked at you with pure rage. You’d seen girls beaten in this place before and knew he was within his right to retaliate, especially if you were some Crow Eater, but that was never your title.

“I don’t have time for this shit!” The prospect gave you a disgusted look before walking towards the back. “JAX?”

He called a name familiar to you. This was it, your last chance to retreat. To cancel your asinine plan and return to the free world. You heard footsteps and scrambled to your feet, taking quick steps towards the exit. Your hand was on the door when the footsteps entered the room.

“This is what you were scared of?” The sound of Jax smacking the prospect on the back of the head echoed across the space. “Looks like she’s taking off anyway.”

“Or she’s blocking the exit and is going to attack prospect again.” Tig laughed. “Get out here honey. There’ll be another party tomorrow, but holidays are for family.”

Family. The word was always foreign to you. The only time you had any sense of what it meant was when you were under this roof. Of course, it wasn’t the typical bond, but you always felt like you belonged when you were here. Sure it came with rules and obedience and the occasional punishment, but now that felt like a small price to pay.

“Alright. Rock, paper, scissors for who has to make the whore leave.” Tig clearly hadn’t changed.

Not wanting to wait for one of them to strong arm you again you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned around. When you opened your lids none of them were looking at you. Tig and Jax were readying to play their game, but before Jax threw he glanced up. The smile on his face vanished to a look of shock.

“What the fuck man?” Tig held his fingers in the shape of a scissor and looked up at Jax.

The VP gave Tig a smack and he turned his vision towards you as well. The playful smile vanished and he blinked several times, both of them probably thought they were staring at a ghost.

“Hello Y/N.” Jax kept his voice low. Without breaking eye contact he nodded towards the hall.

Tig disappeared and your heart fluttered, no doubt about who he was going to retrieve. Your hand went behind you and grabbed the door handle, again fearing this was a mistake.

“Don’t do that Darling.” Jax shook his head. “I’d have to chase you and nobody wants that.”

He held his arms in front of him as if he were cornering a wild animal.

“You’re here for a reason. I don’t think you want to run again anyway, do you?” His blue eyes got closer, making you feel smaller than you were.

Your voice caught in your throat as your back hit the door. Jax continued to stalk towards you. You wished your body would melt into the frame and you could vanish from this place once again. You could feel the heat of his breath on your face and peeked your eyes open. His arm was stretched over his head and you looked to see him slide a bolt into place, locking the exit.

Something in you started to break again. You were trapped, but this time you had done it to yourself. Returning here was an awful idea. Panic filled your veins.

“Y/N?” Your attention snapped to behind the bar.

The soft Irish accent filled your ears and your toes started to curl. Jax started to back away and you felt exposed.

“Fuck.” Chib’s voice centered you on him again.

It felt like nobody else was alive on the entire planet as you looked into his eyes. He grunted before jumping over the bar and stalking towards you. Your hands went to his face and you started to stroke his cheek, almost unsure if he was real or not. He wrapped his fingers around your upper arms and studied you, in the same way, his eyes trailing every bit of your skin with possessiveness.

All your fears vanished in a single moment and a sense of shame came over you. Since you had arrived you were at a loss for words, but now only two seemed to matter.

“I’m sorry.” You dropped your head to his shoulder and breathed in Chib’s scent. Leather, gunsmoke, and a hint of mint. That was your man.

He slid his hand around your back and pulled you against him, squeezing you tight. You gripped onto his vest, never wanting to let him go. Time seemed to stand still. You weren’t sure if Chibs held you for a minute or an hour. Finally, you calmed down enough to ask a question.

“Are you mad at me?” You looked up at the man who had taken such care of you, ruled your life with an iron fist, kept you in line, declared you as his property.

“Furious.” He brushed your hair back and placed a kiss on your forehead. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in Baby Doll.”

A shiver went down your body, knowing you deserved whatever punishment Chibs wanted to dole out. One of your biggest fears about coming back to this place was being replaced or turned away. You nodded your head, hoping if you agreed with him neither of those things would happen.

Chibs leaned down and placed his shoulder on your stomach, your body went forward as he stood up, your ass swinging in the air and head down by your ankles. Even upside down the walk to his room was familiar. He kept one arm firmly around your waist, securing you to his shoulder.

He opened the door to his room and kicked it shut. You heard his reach around and flip the deadbolt, you were grateful, it meant he wasn’t going to toss you out yet. In one motion he set you down on the edge of the bed. You sat up as he knelt before you. His salt and pepper beard and hair had grown since you’d left. Chibs started to untie your sneakers and you lifted your foot to help him.

“Where have you been?” His accent made your stomach flutter as he pulled off the first shoe.

“As far west as Michigan.” You lifted your other foot. “Small towns off the highway.”

“Did you hitchhike?” He pulled your other shoe off.

“Yes.” You wouldn’t lie to him.

He looked up at you, not trying to hide the anger in his eyes.

“You know better than that.” He yanked off a sock. “Did anyone hurt you while you were on your little adventure?”

You shook your head. There were a few close calls, but you always carried mace. You didn’t think Chibs needed the details at the moment. His disappointment made you cross your arms as if you could cover the last year. He pulled off your other sock and then reached up and grabbed your wrist, unfolding your cloak of protection.

“What did you do for money?” He grabbed your other wrist.

“Waitress.” You knew what he was asking. “I couldn’t hold down a job. Whenever anyone with a cut came in I was scared they would notice me.”

Chibs pulled your other wrist forward. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head. He flung the long sleeved item to the floor and pulled your hands together. He flipped them over and pushed them together. The tattoos on each wrist forming your symbol, letting anyone who could read them understand who you belonged to and where to find him.

“Or were you scared they would notice this?” Chibs raised an eyebrow.

You nodded and he sighed.

“I’ll have to get you one in a more public place.” He stroked the side of your neck. “One you won’t be able to hide so easily.”

You had struggled to keep your wrists covered, there was no way your hair would be enough to cover a neck tattoo. You let out a whimper at the thought. Chibs grabbed your chin.

“You just came back and already thinking about running again?” His eyes went dark. “You should be grateful for my marks.”

“I won’t run again.” You softened your expression. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Chibs nodded. He dropped his glance towards your jeans and started to undo your fly. You didn’t stop him. “I spent a lot of time searching for you Y/N. I was scared you were dead. Do you know what that feels like?”

“Yes.” You thought about all the nights he disappeared on club missions, how many times you didn’t think he was coming back.

Your eyes caught him and there was a hint of sorrow in them. He shook his head and instead tugged on your jeans. You lifted your butt and they slid off, leaving you in only your bra and panties. Chibs tossed the jeans with your shirt and then moved to sit on the bed next to you. You turned towards him. His eyes studied you, no doubt looking for signs of trauma.

“I stayed clean. I didn’t hurt myself either.” You wanted him to be proud of that, proud of you.

“But you wanted to?” Chibs asked. “Is that why you came back to me?”

You looked away in shame, feeling like a weak human being. Chibs put his finger under your chin and tilted your face back towards his.

“You have zero privileges or trust.” His eyes darkened again. “You have to start at the bottom again and earn your way back. Every night until I see fit you’re going to receive a punishment and you’re going to thank me for it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You hated it when he was mad at you, but you did deserve it. “I’m sorry.”

“Starting tomorrow.” Chib’s lips twitched into a smile.

“What?” You started to ask.

“Tonight, I’m just thankful you’re back.” He licked his lips. “And I’m going to give you several reasons never to leave me again.”

Before you could comprehend his statement his lips were on yours. They were soft and inviting. You let out a squeak of surprised and his hand went behind your head, holding you in place. He parted them and slid his tongue into your mouth. The immediate passion he brought was so much you were sure your legs would have given out if you weren’t already seated.

Chib’s other hand went up your back and unhooked your bra. It felt forward and he tossed it away. His hand went straight to your chest and he kneaded your mound. You let out a whimper, forgetting how good the man’s touch was. His fingers were rough and calloused, bringing a different sensation on your tender buds as he tweaked them into stiffness.

“You’ve been a very bad girl Y/N.” The Irish tone sent another wave of arousal through you. Chibs resumed the kiss in between speaking and started to slide his hand down your stomach over your panties. “But fuck, I missed you.”

His fingertips brushed over your core and you let out a moan. He responded with a chuckle before gathering the crotch of your panties in his fist and yanking them down. You brought your hands up to his cheeks as he pushed you backward, laying you down while his mouth was still over yours.

Chib’s hand slid up your bare thigh until his fingers were at your slit. He pushed down until they were at your entrance and inserted one with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were for him, but honestly, your body started readying itself before you even stepped foot in the clubhouse.

“Even though you’ve been so naughty you’ve kept your training.” Chibs moved to your neck. “Prepared for me already.”

He added a second finger and you arched your back as he curled them forward, working against the fleshy patch on your interior. He licked up your neck and stopped at your ear.

“Tell me Y/N.” The accent would be the death of you. “How many men touched you like this?”

“None.” You shook your head. “Only you.”

There was a look of approval on his face and you craned your neck, wanting to hear two words on his lips, remind you that you aren’t all that bad.

“Un-un.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve that. You have to earn it.”

He curled his fingers faster and you cried out, gripping onto the side of his arm.

“Be lucky I’m allowing this.” He went back to kissing your neck.

There was no denying the tightness forming inside of you, the way your insides were growing needy as you started rocking your body back and forth with Chib’s hand. You always focused so much on your reasons for leaving it was easy to forget this was one of the main ones for returning. The way only he could make you feel.

“Now cum, like the good girl you can be.” Chib’s said those two words and that was it for you.

A shudder went through your entire body as you exploded on his hand. Your body gushing juices around his fingers as a ringing started forming in your ears. His hand disappeared and your head lulled back on the pillow.

You spread your legs and bent your knees, knowing what was coming next. Good girl, that was what you wanted to be for him. You wished you could erase the last year. You wondered what your life would have been if only you’d stayed.

You gasped as Chib’s started sliding into your hole. His cock always managed to fill you up to the point you were unsure you could take any more. Time had not changed that and soon his head was taping at your cervix.

Your hands went back to his shoulders as you steadied yourself, knowing he was about to start pounding into you, but right now your body was for him and you would give him anything he wanted. You gripped his t-shirt and let out a whimper.

“No.” He looked down on you. “Right now you’re the only one naked. You don’t deserve to feel my skin on yours.”

He leaned down and the leather of his vest pushed against your nipples as he started to thrust inside of you. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it would have felt much better to feel him bare against you. Chibs didn’t start out slow as he continued pumping in and out of you.

He started to roll his pelvis, brushing against your ignored clit. The action made you squirm against him and try to position yourself in a way that you received more pressure on the engorged bud. Chibs entertained your efforts and started moving in a corresponding way.

It didn’t take long until you were coming undone again, a withering mess underneath him. Your orgasm was so powerful, you could feel it at your fingertips. Chibs did not slow down, and every thrust sent you back into euphoria, but there was one piece of information you had to share before your paramour joined you in climax.

“I’m not on the pill.” You whispered into his ear.

He always took care of your medications, of course, there was no way you would have continued them after you ran away. That would have meant a paper trail.

Chib’s ignored your comment and let out another grunt. Then he pushed in hard and you cried out again, the waves of your orgasm continuing as he pressed into your cervix. His cock was blowing up inside of you, coating your womb with his white juices.

“You’re still in so much trouble Y/N.” Chibs let out heavy breaths. “Tomorrow.”

He pulled out of you and rolled over on to his back. You turned on to his chest and shut your eyes as you cuddled against him. Maybe if he got you pregnant the punishment would be cut short, then you would be his good girl again, and he would have to forgive you completely.

“Thank you.” Now those were the only two words you wanted to say.

#sons of anarchy smut #chibs smut #chibs x reader #soa #soa smut #soa chibs #chibs imagine #fanfic #smut #theonewhohatesthanksgivingchallenge

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cksmart-world · 4 years ago

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The completely unnecessary news analysis

by Christopher Smart

December 15, 2020

HOW MITCH THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS

“Even the meanest soul is moved by Christmas.” Hold on Dr. Seuss, you haven't met Kentucky Sen. Mitch “Froggy” McConnell. The head powerbroker of the Republican-dominated Senate is saying Bah Humbug to folks who are out of a job and about to get evicted for the holidays. Yes Dr. Seuss it “may be that his heart is two sizes too small.” You see, Itchy Mitchy doesn't want corporations, like meat-packing plants, to be legally liable when their employees die from Covid, so he won't make a deal with Democrats until they scratch that provision from the emergency aid legislation. Mitch the Grinch knows where his stockings are stuffed and it isn't by working people. No, it's the big money guys and corporations who keep making his Christmases bright and ensure he keeps power to wreak havoc over all of Whoville. "I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming!" cried Mitch the Grinch. Well Dr. Seuss, they say we get the government we deserve and maybe folks in Kentucky like this Grinch. After all, the rich stole their money fair and square and working people need to do the same or they'll “find out now that no Christmas is coming at all!" SUPERHERO 'MR. UNITY' STRIKES AGAIN

Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Look, up in the air, it's a bird, it's a plane, no it's that dipshit Mike Lee thinking he's Superman again. Here are some of the Utah senator's gems: The U.S. isn't a democracy; he says he's a constitutional expert; and taxes on the rich are un-American. Now in the name of “national unity” SuperMike has single-handedly stopped the creation of a National Museum of the American Latino. “[I]t does not celebrate diversity; it weaponizes diversity,” said SuperMike. It will “loose Orwellian mobs to cancel anyone daring to express an original thought.” WTF. That's rich coming from a guy who supported the most divisive president in our history. The Smithsonian previously dedicated museums to African Americans and Native Americans, but this is different, Lee surmised with his signature pretzel logic. SuperLee's lone vote also killed a women's museum to the chagrin of Sen. Susan Collins: “Surely in a year where we are celebrating the 100th anniversary of women’s suffrage, this is the time to finally pass the legislation to establish an American women’s history museum in our nation’s capital,” Sorry, that would be Orwellian, where idiots have control and think they are more equal than others.

HEY REPUBLICANS, NIXON AIN'T LOOKIN' SO BAD

Have you ever noticed how Republicans hate talking about Richard Nixon. Nixon who? They do remember John F. Kennedy fondly, however, as if he was one of their own. Ten years from now, after the mass hysteria dies away and Trump is convicted of tax fraud and god knows what else, will they still rave about him like he was the Second Lincoln. Will they look back and say he was cheated in the 2020 election. Stop the steal! Will they say the Supreme Court screwed the pooch when it denied legal action by Texas that said elections in Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin were all bogus, based on nothing whatsoever? Or, like Watergate, will they simply pretend it never happened. What would posses 17 state attorneys general and 126 members of Congress to sign on as if the suit was more than a blatant sham. In 2016, candidate Trump said “Only He” could fix our problems. Ten years from now will Trumpers dare read about the president who screwed up just about everything, or will they simply turn on WWE's Wrestle-mania to get their Trump fix. The fact is, we'll all have to look back with shame at the time Trump's party tried to destroy our democracy — except, of course, for those who know no shame. Trump who?

Post script — Well, here we are, decking the halls for Covid Christmas. Unfortunately, Santa isn't bringing vaccines for stocking stuffers but maybe the Easter Bunny will along with colored eggs and chocolate. Of course that doesn't mean you can't hang syringes from the Christmas tree as ornaments for a hopeful holiday. Speaking of which, Wilson and the band say the New Year won't begin until Jan. 20 at noon when Donald Trump will be dragged from the White House kicking and screaming. Imagine a world without Trump and Covid. If that can't brighten your spirits, nothing will. Of course, the president and all his helpers are working furiously to wreck things before they take their place in history. For example, contractors are working around the clock on the southern border trying to erect as much of Trump's wall as they can before Joe Biden can put a stop to the madness. The wall was never going to stop illegal immigration but it was one of Trump's mightiest symbols — HATE IMMIGRANTS. Now the unfinished and idiotic project will become a symbol of his presidency. Fortunately for American taxpayers, Mexico paid for it. And if Trump supporters believe that, then surely we can believe in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny.

OK, Wilson, what have you and the guys up your sleeves to celebrate the meaning of this holiday season:

The streets are filled with laughter and light And the music of the season And the merchants' windows are all bright With the faces of the children And the families hurrying to their homes As the sky darkens and freezes Will be gathering around the hearths and tables Giving thanks for all God's graces And the birth of the rebel Jesus We guard our world with locks and guns And we guard our fine possessions And once a year when Christmas comes We give to our relations And perhaps we give a little to the poor If the generosity should seize us But if any one of us should interfere In the business of why there are poor They get the same as the rebel Jesus But pardon me if I have seemed To take the tone of judgement For I've no wish to come between This day and your enjoyment In this life of hardship and of earthly toil We have need for anything that frees us So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer From a heathen and a pagan On the side of the rebel Jesus.

(The Rebel Jesus — Jackson Brown)

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polarishq · 5 years ago

Photo

Meet OLYMPIA EUN. They are THIRTY TWO years old and hail from SOUTHFIELD, MICHIGAN. Ollie embodies the star, TSEEN KE. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is ADELINE RUDOLPH.

Tseen Ke reminds me of the casual spin of a cleaver knife between nimble fingers, a cupboard full of champagne glasses, the routine of paying tithes, the art of reliving your darkest moments, bare feet tapping a steady rhythm along the ground, a body seized with desire, skirts pressed and prepared for Sunday service, rose petals in the bathtub, Sanjana playing over the speakers, weekend confessionals, that rich-girl-bitch-girl-babydoll type shit.

BIOGRAPHY

If asked, Olympia Ji-Min Eun can describe the rundown Southfield apartment she grew up in. She can tell you how it felt to drag her fingers down the cracks in the wall, take a pencil and draw the amorphous rain stains on the ceiling, tell you how many steps there were between one nail sticking out of the carpet and the next; she could just as easily describe the octave of her neighbor’s voice when he was shouting at his wife, or the exact time of night when the other kids in the building would come inside.

When she wasn’t playing the role of Bishop Gavin and First Lady Dolores Eun’s dutiful daughter, she was committing those details to memory, learning everything about the world around her without ever interacting with it. She could have played a more active role, and maybe she should have. But nothing about life held her attention; everything was dull and predictable, worth learning but not engaging.

It was December 25, 2001, approximately 3:19pm when Tseen Ke appeared, the only Christmas presents the stars ever gave her. Ollie would like to say that her life drastically changed since then, but it was one of the most subtle changes she’s ever lived through. The rules of Tseen Ke came to her slowly, jotted down in her Hello Kitty notebook.

Rule one: I cannot lie. Discovered on August 13, 2002, 11:12am. Even at fourteen years old, Ollie wasn’t much of a liar. So when she attempted it that day, it was one of the few times she’d ever done so. The violent reaction her body had, however, was a firm deterrent from ever trying again. Perhaps it was a leap to assume that her sponsor gave her on-call epilepsy, but the fact spoke for itself: the first time she ever had a seizure was only moments after the first time she tried to lie with her sponsorship. Rather than testing this theory for accuracy, she settled to avoid lying at all costs.

Rule two: I can only see memories if I am allowed. Discovered on December 3, 2002, 9:00am. When Josiah Bland explicitly said, “You cannot see my memories,” she experienced her first block. When she’d seen memories before then, those people had asked her to. She’d never tried to do it non-consensually. While it didn’t hurt for him to say no, it definitively shut her out of his mind.

Rule three: my body reacts to trigger words. Discovered on multiple occasions. It’s always jarring to discover trigger words. In Tseen Ke’s very minimal defense, the words are specific and some of them are quite rare. But there’s a word that makes her collapse, a word that makes her freeze, so on and so forth. The most important of these words, however, is the one that essentially makes her a puppet, ripped of her free will or conscious thought.

On December 31, 2006, 11:55pm, a man approached Ollie at a New Year’s Eve party and told her that he wanted her to play a game. Eighteen and uninterested in any man’s game, Ollie politely told him to fuck off. At 11:56pm, he grabbed her arm and paralyzed her with just one word. He explained exactly what he wanted and why she would do it. By the time the ball dropped to celebrate the new year, Olympia Eun had lost all semblance of choice in her life.

The game was simple enough, though calling it a game is misleading. It was more like one man making an army of assassins and slapping a point system on it. A hundred or so witches from Polaris were dragged into it kicking and screaming, handed knives and guns in place of their wands. They were taught to kill with efficiency and use their gifts in creative ways. With each kill, they received a number of points; the more dangerous your target was, the more points you received; the more points you received, the closer you got to freedom. It was simple enough that people fought back at first. But after witnessing the cruel punishments that came from dissent, everyone fell in line and played the game.

July 3, 2008, a little over a year into the game, pandemonium broke out. Players began to turn on one another, slaughtering each other in hopes of receiving high marks. For their efforts, the dark wizard that started the game adjusted the rules: if you could take out a witch with more points than you, then you had your freedom. Players jumped at the chance and a real life Hunger Games began.

On July 5, 2008, Ollie found herself inducted into a group of four, bound by one common goal: survive to the end of this shit. They teamed up, only calling each other by their elements, and worked to kill every player that came at them first. Eventually, inevitably, they killed the game maker himself.

On July 7, 2008, Light, Earth, Air and Water were the only survivors of a twisted game.

While the others may have struggled to return to their usual lives, Ollie never tried. While the situation had been nothing short of fucked up, she learned a lot from it, enough that she thanked the game maker more than she hated him. For the first time in years, she dug her Hello Kitty notebook out from beneath her mattress and added to her rules.

Addendum to rule one: I cannot lie –– but I can circumvent the truth. Flowery prose and pretty language goes a long way in hiding nasty secrets. Ollie still isn’t much of a liar, even in this day and age, but she could hardly tell the youth group in her church about her murderous activities. So she learned to talk around the truth, dancing around anything she had to hide. It’s a dangerous game and sometimes she has to sacrifice one truth to hide another, but in the end, she knows how to make the little things work for her.

Addendum to rule two: I can only see memories if I am allowed –– but that permission does not have to be explicit. She learned very early on that people didn’t have to know that she was viewing their memories in order for her to get permission. People say the most thoughtless things when they’re drunk; they agree to the silliest things when they’re driven by ecstasy. This is an even trickier game, because she can’t circumvent her way around an outright ‘no,’ but so long as she avoids that word, then the world is at her fingertips.

Addendum to rule three: my body reacts to trigger words –– but no one knows that. Hiding this fact is simple enough. No one ever thinks to ask and she has no reason to tell, so her involuntary reactions didn’t have to affect her life unless she let them.

With these key thoughts in mind, Ollie continued making use of her gifts. Assassins transitioned into being serial killers, all of them too used to the thrill of the kill to give it up. Under Light’s generous leadership, the Lunatics –– as the media knew them –– thrived. Not that Ollie ever cared for that kind of thing; she was every part a member of the group, of course, but she didn’t care to be controlled by anyone, let alone someone so clearly disingenuous as Light. The only obligation Ollie felt was to her star and the cleaver that she used to dismember her victims, when she wasn’t making their memories manifest to hunt them down.

So the years passed by with the four killers working like a well-oiled machine and few problems. Though Ollie much preferred to kill of her own volition, she began to take up hit man jobs, receiving thousands or millions of dollars for her services. She moved her parents out of their rundown apartment and into a mansion, separate from her own, and anonymously paid for the expansion of her church. Though she would never say it out loud, the game she’d been forced to play was the best thing that ever happened to her.

Her life in Polaris continued on as it always was. To all but three people, she was just… Ollie. The girl with the well-kept notebooks and the careful way with words, who floated between groups, knowing everyone but committing to no one, who worked in the library, went to church, and kept her head down. Everything about her way pretty and organized, hiding who she was behind closed doors. No one had any idea what she did in her spare time, aside from the other killers, and nothing she did gave anyone any reason to suspect that she was more than she let on.

When another member joined their little group, an innocent and lucky woman with no connection to their abuse, Ollie thought nothing of it. If anything, the new arrival made things more interesting. Ollie minded her own business, but it would have been impossible not to notice how tension ramped up within the group. They were honey balancing on a knife’s edge, so clearly destined to meet a tragic and unfortunate end. Light was losing her hold over the group and Ollie was finally gaining a vested interest.

Then, on August 25, 2020, at 5:12am, Light’s mangled body was found in the attic of the Lunatics’ hideout. Only five people knew how to find the hideout; only four people could have possibly killed her. In all likeliness, they were the only four people in the world who knew Light well enough to want to kill her. The Lunatics’ leader was dead and one of them was very clearly the culprit.

Upon hearing the news, Ollie had to stifle her laughter. Finally, something had caught her attention.

INCLINATION

Tseen Ke, heaven’s record, only cares for one thing: truth. Once it chooses a sponsee, it expects the same of them, thus rendering its witch the ability to peer into the minds of individuals and see their memories. More than that, sponsees have the ability to interact with memories and use them however they like, whether that means using them as weapons or to reach a decision. However, Tseen Ke also believes heavily in consent. Its sponsee can only access memories with consent. And, in the spirit of fairness, they can no longer lie. Furthermore, Tseen Ke instills certain trigger words within its sponsee, secretly subjecting them to the world’s manipulation ––– a trait which tends to have awful outcomes.

CONNECTIONS

Evolved Perfection: Someone who remembers what Ollie used to be and… honestly, they have a thing for this new version of her. Whether that’s a romantic thing, a physical thing, or just a respect thing, they like who she is now, so they’ve become close to her. She thinks they’re fake as fuck for only caring about her now that she’s rich and beautiful, but she’s not incensed enough to push them away. If anything, she finds them amusing, so she plays along with whatever they have in mind.

Haunted by the Ghost of You: Somewhere, buried in someone’s memory, was a great love and a great heartbreak: this person. Though Ollie had no previous connection to this person, she now lives with the thought of them as someone else once knew them. It hurts to see them, even more so to speak to them, but Ollie does so anyway. It’s bound to hurt her, too, but in the words of Rhett Butler: “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

The Knowing: Ollie is fairly young, in witch years, and has had her mark for a little less than twenty years. This person knew the last Tseen Ke very well, so they know all of the rules. On one hand, all of Tseen Ke’s trigger words change when a new sponsee is chosen; on the other, this character is intent on finding Ollie’s words, for whatever reason. Ollie’s aware of what they’re doing and she isn’t impressed. Not going to lie, they have a lot of fun.

Twisted: So –– legally speaking, this person is dead. Why? Because, legally, Ollie killed them. It was a job, she was paid quite a bit, but–– she just didn’t have it in her to kill this person. So she didn’t do it. For whatever reason, she chose them over a job. However, in order to receive the money and ensure that no one else came after them, she faked their death. It was a whole thing, very dramatic. Now, they’re a little dependent on her, considering she singlehandedly uprooted their life. I’m definitely up for discussing this and fleshing it out more, but yeah :P

Filling Comtessa Godfrey’s Student Helper.

Filling Ramona Serrano’s Steady, Steady.

Filling Aliena Ferreira’s Red String of Fate.

Penned by Ricki ★

#ricki.#taken.#water.#student.#tseenke.

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happybeeme0514 · 8 years ago

Text

Pure Chap 8

Sorry for the delay in the story!! I had a lot of personal problems going on these last couple weeks...:’(. But! It’s back so here you go!

Chapter 8

The Prank

After school starts up again, my nightmares increase with ferocious intensity.

For the umpteenth time tonight, I wake up screaming, Zyglavis shaking my shoulder to jerk me out of the dream. “Ugh!” I gasp. “Son of a bitch…dammit,”

“Language,” Zyglavis whispers, though he doesn’t sound angry at all.

“I thought being here was supposed to stop this?” My voice is completely breathless, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom.

Ever since I’ve started sleeping here, the nightmares have lessened, but it appears as though, ever since I realized that I’m starting to like Zyglavis, they’ve been coming back. I made the connection a couple days ago, and have been trying hard to repress my feelings. A perfectly healthy thing to do.

Hovering above me, Zyglavis watches me carefully.

“Stop staring at me,” I murmur. I bet I look fantastic. I can feel just how tangled my hair is.

“It seems you’re fine now.” Zyglavis growls, his eyes narrow in the darkness. He moves to straighten up, and, before I can stop myself, I reach up and grab his shoulder. He looks shocked.

“What is it?”

“Don’t…you won’t leave the room?” I whisper.

“I haven’t been. But it doesn’t seem to be helping much,” He replies, his eyes darting off to the side for a moment.

“I can’t sleep this way,”

“You need your rest. The dark king is probably trying to wear you down by depriving you of sleep. Mm, this is frustrating…”

My breath comes out me shakily.

“Maybe you need to be closer to me,” I say. Zyglavis sits in the chair closest to the door while I sleep, reading or going over papers for his work. Sometimes he does punishments work, but when I complained about the snaps making it hard for me to sleep, he started waiting until I was already sleeping.

“Closer?” He repeats.

“Yeah. Like, maybe…” I trail off, unable to complete my thought.

“Like lying next to you?”

Zyglavis reads my mind and says what I’m unable to. I nod silently. The room is quiet for a moment, and, embarrassed, I open my mouth to dismiss the idea, to say I’ll grit my teeth and bear the terror, but, to my surprise, Zyglavis climbs into the bed and lies down beside me. I blink.

“You’re going to do it?” I ask, astonished.

“Might as well give it a try. Now hurry up and go back to sleep.” I take a deep breath and turn onto my right side, facing him, and curl up into a ball, gathering up the sheets and using them to cover the lower half of my face. Zyglavis lays on his back, his hands resting on his stomach, and looks up at the ceiling quietly. Gazing at his face, I whisper,

“Zyglavis?”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

I think I can see the corner of his mouth twitch up into a small smile, but the action is so quick and the room so dark that I can’t be sure. I force my eyes to close.

Before I know it, I’m asleep.

The nightmares stop completely.

Zyglavis lies beside me every night now, and I’m able to get peaceful rest again. It’s nice, sleeping nightmarelessly through the night.

That’s not to say that dreaming has stopped; they’re just not scary dreams anymore.

I’m having a new dream now. In it, I’m in a dark room, but the darkness doesn’t scare me as in my other dream. This darkness is calming and peaceful, and each time, as I’m enjoying the calm, someone appears in the distance. Somewhere inside me, I know who it is, and I try to go to him. But it seems that no matter how fast I run or how loud I call out, he can’t hear me, and he keeps getting farther and farther away. I want so badly to reach him, to grab his hand and look up at his face. I want to see him smile at me. I want him to stroke my hair with one of his large, warm hands. I want him to tell me that everything will be okay.

But he’s always out of reach.

When I wake up, I realize that I’ve been dreaming about Zyglavis.

This morning, when I blink my eyes open to my alarm, I notice something unusual. “Mm…?” Why does my chest feel heavy? It’s not uncomfortable, I can breathe just fine, but it feels like something is lying on me. Snowdrop? I glance around, and see that she’s curled up on the windowsill, snoozing away. And then, I look to my side.

My eyes widen.

Beside me, Zyglavis is asleep, his perfectly sculpted face less than two inches away from mine, his impossibly long eyelashes moving in time with his breathing. It’s his arm that I’m feeling; it’s draped over me over top of the covers, like a couple cuddling. Except we aren’t a couple.

My mind is telling me to shove away, but my body stays perfectly still, my eyes glued onto Zyglavis’ peaceful face as he sleeps. My free hand fiddles blindly around for my phone, which is still going off, and I clumsily turn off the alarm.

“Mm…” Zyglavis mumbles in his sleep, his cheek twitching as a stray strand of hair tickles him, and then, his mouth curls into a small smile. I wonder what he’s dreaming about. I hope it’s happy. “Hmph…Eden…”

My body goes stiff. Did he just…say my name?

Without thinking, I reach out and stroke his cheek. It’s warm, and soft. Impossibly so. He said my name, and his arm is wrapped tightly but not uncomfortably around me, holding me as if, if he doesn’t, I’ll be taken away from him. I allow myself to imagine for a moment what’d it be like to be with Zyglavis. I wonder if he’d be sweet, protective, the strong boyfriend half of girls dream of. Or, maybe he’d be cool and mysterious, the badass boyfriend the other half dream about. What would it be like when he kissed me? Would he hold my hand in public?

I sigh deeply, a bittersweet feeling rising up inside my chest. In the back of my mind, I know that everything I just thought of will never happen, but I can’t stop the hope from planting itself firmly in my heart. I’m only setting myself up for pain later on, but I can’t let it go.

The rest of the day passes by in a daze. Halfway through third period biology, that same headache I’ve been having decided to grace me with its presence. At lunch, after having been practically dragged to the cafeteria by Phoebe, I’ve barely touched my food. Zyglavis pushes away from the table and goes into the a-la-cart line, but I don’t lift my eyes from my tray. Somehow I managed to worm my way out from under his arm this morning after enjoying the feeling of being held for a few more minutes without waking him up, so he doesn’t know anything. He was surprised when I woke him up after I got ready. It was kind of funny, actually.

When I shook him awake, he jerked away from me, his eyes shooting open and a shocked gasp hitching in his throat. He had looked around the room with an adorably confused look on his face, and his hair was smashed flat against his head, a red mark on the side of his face from where he laid on the pillow. He had never looked so cute before.

A sharp jab of pain runs along the front of my forehead, and I press my knuckles to it, massaging it in a vain attempt to lessen the pain. All the noise in the room is making my mind swim.

“Here, Eden.” Zyglavis has sat back down beside me and offers me a bottle of Propel, lime-flavored. I offer a small smile and take it, uttering a thank-you, and open it.

As I’m taking a sip, I look up and notice that Luke and Carson are getting into it.

“And I’m telling you, man, DeLaney sucks ass! It ain’t no wonder Ohio State sucks, they can’t put together a good team,” Carson says.

“You’re saying Ohio State sucks?” Luke shoots back. “Boy, until Michigan actually wins a game, I don’t even consider them a rival.”

“What’s going on?” Zyglavis asks me.

“Oh, Luke and Carson are really big into football. They’re fighting about their favorite teams,”

“Ohio State and Michigan are rivals in football,” Phoebe adds.

“Though they shouldn’t be!” Luke exclaims. “Ohio State kicks Michigan’s ass every year, and it’s gonna be the same no matter what!”

Phoebe scoffs.

“Carson’s just butt-hurt because Michigan lost to Ohio State in the ‘big game’ this year. Again.”

“You know damn good and well Michigan beat Ohio State eighty-six to zero once!” Carson snaps.

“Yeah, in 1902!” Luke snorts.

“Guys, stop.”

I interject. All eyes at the table turn to me. One unspoken rule we have at this table is: when Luke and Carson get into an argument over football, let them yell it out and don’t get involved. And I just broke that rule.

“I know football is life to you two, but, it is what it is, right? And, the whole point of football is to watch and have fun, not get into petty little arguments over it.” Carson opens his mouth as if to say something, but Phoebe elbows him in the side.

“Eden’s right. Let’s just eat our lunches, okay? There’s always next year.”

“Yeah, and Michigan will beat Ohio State,” Carson says, but he sounds like he’s in a much better humor than before.

“Psh. Yeah, right.” Luke rolls his eyes, but he has a smile on his face now.

“You wanna bet?”

“How much?”

I sigh, and lean back in my seat, taking another drink of my water, glancing over to Zyglavis, who has a small smile on his face as he stares down at his folded hands. I wonder for a moment what he’s smiling about, but when my head starts thudding painfully again, I let it go.

When Zyglavis and I arrive at the mansion after school, my headache has lessened to a nice, blissful, dull thudding. Scorpio immediately corners Zyglavis, talking to him rather intensely about some situation with the dark gods, and I hear a small “Pst!”

Frowning, I look around the room to see Ichthys and Dui peering around the entrance to the back hallway, Ichthys wearing his signature grin and Dui looking rather conflicted. Ichthys raises a hand and crooks his index finger at me, his eyes darting over to Zyglavis for a moment before looking back at me. I squint my eyes.

I don’t trust this.

However, as much as I don’t trust it, I walk over to where the two gods are, and Ichthys wastes no time grabbing me and dragging me down the hall, Dui trailing behind us.

“Hey!” I hiss. “What are you doing?”

“Shh, shh!” Ichthys harshly yet playfully shushes me, and continues pulling me down the hall until we reach a bedroom; he shoves me inside.

The room is themed with many shades of green, from the down bed comforter to the thin, wispy curtains on either side of it. The bed raises several inches off the ground, coming up to about my thighs, and it made of rich, dark wood, the dresser, desk, and end tables matching. There’s a small ottoman at the foot of the bed, and the walls are a pale green.

“Why do we have to use my room?” I hear Dui complain as he and Ichthys enter behind me.

“What is going on?” I demand, more confused than anything. Ichthys smiles in his usual happy way and holds up both hands, his index fingers pointing up.

“Alright,” He begins, his voice filled with excitement. “Ziggle drives all of us crazy, including you, right?” I make a face at Ichthys and cross my arms.

“Yeah, sometimes. And?”

“Well today, you, me, and Dui over here, we’re gonna prank Minister Uptight.”

My eyes widen as a feeling like ice cold water runs through my body.

“I’m sorry, prank Zyglavis?” I say, my voice little more than a breath. As much as Zyglavis drives people insane, I really don’t want to see what he’ll do if I, or anyone else, pulls a prank on him.

However, either Ichthys doesn’t see my apprehension or he’s ignoring it.

“Yup! I’ve been planning this for three whole days. It’s fool-proof! Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

“Uh, wait, wait,” I say, waving my hands out in front of me. “I really don’t think I want to prank Zyglavis. I mean, I spend the most time with him, and I don’t want him to be angry with me. I mean, you’ve met him, right? You know he has a bit of a temper,” Ichthys cocks his head, sticking out his bottom lip just a bit, looking like a sad little puppy.

“Aw, c’mon, Eden! It’s not like I’m gonna hurt him or anything! This prank isn’t like the others I pull. I figure with the Zigster, I should start off small, then build up to my usual pranks.”

Ichthys has the best nicknames for Zyglavis.

Still, even though Ichthys is like a cute, albeit mischievous little boy, and, even though he says his prank isn’t too bad, this is Ichthys we’re talking about here. I’ve only known him for a few months, but I already know just how impish he can be.

I make a small ‘I don’t know’ sound, and, surprisingly, Dui steps in and takes Ichthys’ side.

“Believe it or not, he is telling the truth,” Dui says. “This prank is very much on the small-scale compared to his usuals.” “Mmm…” I still shake my head a bit, pressing my lips tightly together, and curling my fingers at my sides and shaking my leg. Seeing that I still don’t feel all that confident about it, Ichthys approaches me.

“Listen, Eden. I’ll take all the blame if you want me to. I just need you to set the trap for me, that’s all. He probably won’t even know you did it,” I stare up at him, long and hard, until he actually begins shifting his weight in discomfort. I sigh, giving in.

“What do you need me to do?”

I do just as Ichthys instructs me, and set the trap for Zyglavis in the parlor. He’s still completely engrossed in his conversation with Scorpio, and didn’t seem to notice when I put the small box down on the coffee table.

After that, Dui hurriedly rushes me to the back-hall door, where he, I and Ichthys all wait with bated breath.

My heart is racing like a roadrunner in my chest, my fingers curled tightly into the palms of my hands. When I glance at Ichthys, I see his smile is incredibly wide, revealing his perfect white teeth. Looking at Dui, I can see that he’s just as nervous as I am, but he still looks happily anxious. I look back into the parlor.

Zyglavis is just finishing his discussion with Scorpio, who walks out toward the entrance way, closing the doors behind him.

As Zyglavis turns, he notices the box I had set down on the coffee table and walks over to it, a small pleased look on his face. He sits down on the couch facing us and sets down the small stack of papers Scorpio had given him, opening the box and picking out what’s inside. Chocolate…?

As I’m wondering if Ichthys maybe put habanera or wasabi in them, I hear a familiar snap, and suddenly, Zyglavis’ appearance changes.

My eyes widen, and I snort, trying to hold back laughter.

The ponytail that had once been silky and straight draped over Zyglavis’ right shoulder has become wildly curly, and pulled into two distinct pigtails at the sides of his head, a frilly pink headband holding his bangs to the side.

Zyglavis freezes, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger as he slowly reaches a hand up to touch his hair. His eyes shoot open wide, and I swear I can see his cheeks turn red as he slowly opens his mouth.

The voice that comes out is loud, angry, and surprisingly cute.

“ICHTHYS!”

“Pfft!” Ichthys snorts as Dui grabs my hand and yanks me down the hall, away from the scene of the crime.

We bolt down the hallway, running as fast as our legs can carry us—and I have to try even harder considering Dui’s legs are longer than mine—flying to the left about fifty feet away from the doorway we were just at; Dui slides on a rug and slams into a wall. “You okay?” I gasp, half-laughing, half-panting. He nods with a huge smile and takes off again, me trailing behind him.

As we’re running, our laughing causes us to run out of breath, and we have to stop so we can try to breathe. “I can’t believe he did that!” I gasp.

“That’s tame for Ichthys,” Dui says with a wide smile.

“That’s tame?” I ask, running a hand through my hair, now tangled a bit from the wind. “What else has he done?”

“Well, I say tame because it would be had his target been literally anyone but Zyglavis, but…this may be his most daring prank yet.” He winks at me.

As Dui and I are standing across from each other in the wide hallway, laughing together, I see that Ichthys is barreling down the hall, moving like Usain Bolt.

“Hey! May wanna haul ass!” He exclaims as he zooms past us.

We both look down the hall to see a dark imposing figure coming toward us, moving as fast as Ichthys, but almost like he’s on one of those moving floors at airports. His arms aren’t even moving.

“Oh, crap! Come on!”

Dui grabs my hand again and we take off around the corner, making a right instead of left like Ichthys. I know that we’ve royally pissed Zyglavis off, but, I can’t help but continue smiling as we run as fast as we can down the seemingly endless hallways of the mansion.

I thought my time here would be dull, but with Ichthys and Dui around, it’s anything but.

Dui and I assumed that Zyglavis had captured Ichthys as we never ran into him again while we were running ourselves, so Dui took me back to his room, where the scheming all took place.

“You know, I don’t think I ever ran that hard in my life,” I say as I sit down on the edge of Dui’s bed. He smiles as me as he double checks to make sure no one—especially that special someone—is coming down for us and closes the door.

“From what Zyglavis has told us about you, I’m surprised you didn’t fall down.” I scoff happily and swing my legs back and forth.

“So, why exactly does Zyglavis…you know, act like he does? I mean, I know his job, like all of yours, is to punish humans, but…I don’t know, it just seems like he does it so coldly,”

“Hmmmm…” Dui hums as he thinks, and sits down beside me. “Well, Zyglavis is the chief minister of our department, for one. And, for two...well…” He trails off, his eyes averting to look toward the window next to his bed.

“What?” I gently press. Dui looks at me hesitantly, his milk chocolate eyes careful.

“Eden, Zyglavis has been around way longer than the rest of us have. He’s even older than Leon, by almost five hundred years,” I blink. Now that I think about it, the gods are immortal. They don’t age. It comes as a shock to me to learn that Zyglavis is that old.

“And…” He trails off, and I gently put my hand on his arm.

“And…?” I gently press. Dui sighs, like he doesn’t want to tell me, but has resigned himself to doing so. “The gods and the humans used to live on Earth together,” My eyes widen, my jaw dropping.

“Really?” I breathe. That fact is extremely hard to comprehend, seeing as how some of the gods I’ve met act like humans are bottom-feeding scum. Dui nods solemnly.

“Yes. A very, very long time ago. I never lived on Earth. I was born when the Heavens was already created, but Zyglavis…he was born on Earth, and he lived on Earth for a long time before the gods segregated themselves from the humans,”

“Why did they do that?” He looks at me sadly, and then begins fiddling with his gloves.

“Well…all of the humans used to be like you. Good, and pure. But as humans began ruling over other humans, wars broke out, greed and envy and anger and resentment took over the humans’ pure hearts, and it gave way for evil to grow. The gods tried to stop it, but the humans wouldn’t listen. As the fighting grew worse, dark, evil beings began to sprout up, and the gods fled from the now ‘dirtied’ Earth and created the Heavens. But Zyglavis…” Dui pauses for a moment, his face filled with nothing but admiration for his boss. “Zyglavis stayed on Earth. He tried to make the humans see the error of their ways. I heard that a few gods who wanted to wipe out the human race entirely had told them that Zyglavis was trying to cause strife, tried to get them to turn on him. And they did just that. And even after being betrayed by both the gods and the humans, Zyglavis kept using all of his power to protect the human race. He refused to leave the Earth until the king promised that no harm would purposely befall the humans.

“Eden, it isn’t in Zyglavis’ nature to turn his back on you humans. He is a god who loves humanity more deeply than any other god. That’s why he acts the way he does when he’s punishing people. He really, truly wants them to see the error of their ways and turn back to the right path, and his methods do work, whether you want to accept it or not. Do you understand that?”

I sit in silence, listening to Dui’s soft voice explain to me Zyglavis’ painful past. I can’t imagine how he must have felt, torn between the humans he wanted to protect, and the gods who he belonged to by blood. Even though I have a small crush on him, I still went and judged him without even knowing him. I feel awful. I feel like a judgmental prick.

I hang my head in shame.

Just then, the door to the room opens without so much as a knock, and there Zyglavis stands, his hair pulled from the pigtails, but still in wild waves. He lifts his hand to me and cocks his index finger once, his expression irritated. Without my usual quip or eye roll, I push myself from Dui’s bed and walk over to Zyglavis, my head hung like a dog who knows it’s done bad. “I’ll deal with you later.” He tells Dui icily before gently but firmly taking my arm and leading me from the room.

As we walk in suffocating silence down the halls to Zyglavis’ room, I look up at him. I’m walking a half step behind him, and it’s harder than usual to see his face because of all that hair flipping this way and that, but, he somehow looks different to me now. Now that I know more about him and his past, he looks kinder, softer, than he has before. I had always thought that he was inhumanly gorgeous, but now I can see him as a truly beautiful being. Not just in the face and body, but in the heart and soul as well.

Sensing my eyes on him, he throws a glare at me. “Stop staring at my hair.” He snarls, seemingly more embarrassed than angry. I shake my head.

“I wasn’t staring at your hair.” I murmur. His expression flattens, and he stops walking.

“Then what were you staring at?” My cheeks involuntarily warm up as I shrug my shoulders.

“Just…you, I guess,”

“You guess?” I don’t answer, I just nod. “I don’t understand.” I shrug my shoulders again, and, thankfully, Zyglavis lets it drop, turning his face from me with a sigh and picking up the pace again.

Back in his room, I watch him as he brushes out the tangled mess that once was his perfectly straight and silky hair. As he works the brush through it, occasionally hissing and swearing under his breath, it hits me just how human gods can act sometimes. Pulling pranks, smiling and laughing, eating every once in a while, down to something as simple as brushing one’s hair. It’s wrong of us to fear them. It’s wrong for us to believe that they don’t exist, that they don’t always watch over us and keep us safe from the unknown. I turn my eyes down.

And then…to have known about the gods’ existence, and to deliberately turn your back on them, on the one god who fought harder than all the rest to keep you and yours safe…it’s incredibly unfair and sad. He must have felt more alone than anyone else ever could have. The gods trying to turn the humans against him, and the humans doing just that…it must have torn him apart. I knew that he loves his own kind, but now that I know he loves humans as well, it feels so heartbreaking.

I swallow tightly.

At that moment, Zyglavis puts his hairbrush down and throws his hair back into that side ponytail, grumbling to himself about, “…really going to punish him for this…” For whatever reason, seeing him now, acting like nothing happened, even if it happened so long ago, makes me emotional. He survived. He endured. And he became one of the most powerful gods in the Heavens.

Sighing heavily, Zyglavis turns to face me, his mouth open like he’s going to say something, but his stern look is replaced by a look of shock when he sees my face. Only then do I realize I’m crying.

“Why on Earth are you crying?” He asks me, completely bewildered. “Are you that afraid of me?” My body instantly reacts to that question by jumping off the bed and lunging to him, my arms going around his waist and squeezing tightly. His body is warm against my skin, and he tenses up, standing awkwardly with me holding him. “Eden, what in the world is the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry, for how I’ve acted. I judged you before I even knew who you are. I’m not the least bit afraid of you…not anymore,”

“What are you talking about?”

He gently takes ahold of my shoulders and forces me back to look down at my face. I swipe at the tears falling down my cheeks as I say, “Dui told me…he said that you lived on Earth a long time ago, that you were the last god on Earth, and that you protected the humans when the other gods wanted to eradicate them. He said even though you protected them, they turned their backs to you, and you still…you still didn’t leave,” Zyglavis’ narrow eyes widen slightly at my explanation. “And I just thought you hated the humans like some other gods do. I thought you liked causing your punishment targets pain. I had no idea…I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like. It makes me upset to think that you were alone like that. I know that it was a long time ago, but…I’m sorry. I’m just…sorry.”

Zyglavis stares down at me like I have a third eye, and the room is quiet for a few moments, save for my small gasps for air. Then, he says, “You…you’re crying…for my sake?” I sniffle, and nod. “Why?” The question, whispered, in a voice of pure shock, makes me look up at him.

“Because it’s not fair, how you were treated. No one should feel alone like that, especially when they’re exhausting themselves trying to protect people. It’s so sad.”

A few more tears fall from my eyes, and before I can wipe them away myself, my shoulders jump slightly when I feel a gloved finger gently run across my cheek. I turn my eyes up and see that Zyglavis is staring down at me, his expression perplexed but also more gentle than I have ever seen it before. He wipes away my tears, catching every single one before it has a chance to reach my jaw.

“Allow me to tell you something,” He says in a low, lulling voice. “Not all of my time on Earth was like what Dui described.” I sniffle.

“Really?” Zyglavis nods his head slowly.

“Yes. You know how clear the skies are in Alaska? How you can see many stars and the Aurora Borealis? Well, a long, long time ago, you could see ten times as many stars from Earth, and the air was cleaner, like—”

“Like clean linen?” Zyglavis blinks, then smiles a bit.

“Yes, exactly like clean linen,” Just how you always smell. “And the people were gentle and kind. They went to bed when the sun set and rose when it did. The gods and the humans mingled without a second thought of their statuses. It was peaceful.”

Zyglavis’ description about his time on Earth before all the pandemonium makes me happier than I was before. I’m glad to know that not all his days on Earth were chaotic.

“Do you feel a little better now?” He asks me. I look up at him, my eyes still wet and my eyelashes dewy, and nod.

“Good.”

Then his expression becomes stern and I pull back from him, gulping. “Now, about that prank…”

“Oh, Zyglavis…about that…” I back up from him and he follows me, his hand raised as if he’s about to punish me.

Still, I can’t help but smile.

#star crossed myth #zyglavis #leon #scorpio #Karno #huedhaut #Teorus #aigonorous #tauxolouve #dui #ichthys #partheno #krioff #fanfic #otome game

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carey-pricemas · 8 years ago

Text

Playoffs- Auston Matthews

Ok so you guys get two smuts today because I didn't get Andre out yesterday so Happy Easter! (This was terrible planning on my part tbh!) So for those who aren't joining us, up next is: Andre Burakovsky!

Warning: sex, smut, smexy time, cursing

Anon Request: can you do an auston matthews smut?? i love him so much and i can never find any smut worthy and you're one of the best imagine writers on tumblr

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You were going to cry.

The Leafs were going to the playoffs!

And you were there to see it!

Auston was SO going to get lucky when you guys got home.

You were lucky that you were even able to make it to the game. Your plane from Arizona had been delayed and you barely had time to throw your suitcase into Auston's apartment before rushing off to the ACC. He didn't even know you were coming.

Auston was in for a hell of a surprise.

"(Y/N)" Ema called out. You made your way to her and hugged her tight.

"They did it!" you said. You hugged Brian as well.

"It was a nail biter" Brian joked.

"It wouldn't be the Leafs if it weren't" you joked.

"Let's go!" Ema said, grabbing your hand. Brian followed you two down to the waiting area.

"(Y/N)!" Steph yelled. "You're here!"

"I made it!" you laughed, hugging her tightly.

"Ahhh! Good! We were recording it for you in case you were still on the plane!" You hugged the rest of the girls and stood chatting with them while you waited for your boys to finish up with the media and their showers. As they started trickling out, they greeted you warmly.

"Would you look who's here" Mitch teased as he hugged you.

"I know! Auston coming out anytime soon?" Before Mitch could open his mouth to respond, the locker room door opened once more and Auston stepped out. His eyes scanned the room for his parents, but found you first.

"Surprise!" you yelled.

"Holy shit" he said grinning. You raced to him and laughed as he picked you up and swung you around. "I made it in time to see the game!"

"You're here! What are you doing here?" he asked, setting you back down.

"I couldn't not come support my boyfriend in his quest to drag these losers kicking and screaming to the playoffs." Auston laughed. He hugged you once more and you held on tightly.

You had been with Auston for a few years now, supporting him when he went to Michigan, then Sweden, to get to where he was today. But now he was firmly settled in Toronto and you were in school in Arizona, so the time you guys had together was limited.

So as soon as you finished your midterms, you had hopped on a plane to see him win against the Penguins.

"Missed you" you whispered.

"Same" he said, kissing you.

"Look at the lovebirds!" Matt chirped. Auston flipped him off as you laughed.

"We need to celebrate" you whispered. Auston's eyes glittered in deviousness as he grinned at you.

"Oh yeah."

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"Shit" Auston hissed. You looked up at him through your lashes, your mouth latched firmly around his cock.

Ema and Brian had insisted on taking you out for a celebration dinner before they went back to their hotel. Apparently Auston's appetite for food was greater than his appetite for you, because he readily agreed.

So you had sat through a meal, chatting with the Matthews’ and catching up, Auston's hand sliding further up your thigh with each passing moment.

The moment his parents had dropped you off, Auston whisked you into his apartment and to his bedroom.

Apparently one appetite was settled, so Auston was ready for the second course.

Which was how you found yourself on your knees in front of him, using his thick thighs as balance as you took his cock fully into your mouth. His hands were tangled in your hair and you moaned as his hips thrust softly, turning you on more.

"(Y/N)" Auston growled, yanking your head away. You licked your lips and stood. "So fucking beautiful" he groaned, kissing you hard. Auston gently laid you down on the bed, covering your body with his own.

"Auston" you murmured as his mouth attached to your neck, sucking hard. Your hands worked on the buttons of his dress shirt, pushing the fabric from his shoulders. Auston finished shrugging out of the shirt and tossed it aside before his hands moved to your breasts, kneading them through the fabric of your jersey.

"Too many clothes" he breathed. You nodded, breathless as Auston pulled back. He slowly moved his hands down your body to the hem of your jersey, bringing the fabric up and over your head and down your arms, fingers skimming your sensitive skin along the way. He stared at your breasts, covered in scraps of lace before reaching behind you and flicking opened the clasp, tossing the lace aside easily.

"Auston" you panted, arching your back.

"Shh" he said softly. "So damn beautiful" his head dipped down and he brought one peak into his mouth, his hand pinching the other. You gasped and bucked your hips as shots of pleasure ran through you. You could feel your panties getting wetter as Auston continued to torment you, switching from one taut peak to the other and back again.

"Auston" you groaned. "Please."

Auston grinned up at you, dragging his lips over your skin until he pressed a kiss right above the waistband if your jeans. You whimpered as he slowly slid the zipper down, pulling back the two sides to reveal your lace thong.

"Fuck baby" he groaned. You lifted your hips and Auston took the cue, slowly sliding the fabrics over your hips and down your legs.

"Please, Auston." Auston's eyes darkened as your legs fell apart. He crawled up your body and settled his hips between your legs, his cock nudging against you.

"I love you" he whispered, kissing you. You kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair.

"Love you too, Auston." Auston reached between you and guided his cock to your entrance, slipping inside. You pulled in a harsh breath as he filled you. "Auston" you whispered, your legs wrapping around his waist. He said nothing as he slowly thrust into you, his mouth taking your own in a dominant kiss.

You panted as his thrusts became more urgent, his mouth sliding down your neck and biting into the delicate skin. You cried out as your own hips lifted to meet Auston's pace.

"Auston" you cried out. He grinned against your skin as he picked up the pace more, slamming into you with each thrust, his hips pressing against your clit as he bottomed out. "Fuck" you cried out your back arching off the bed as your orgasm slammed into you hard, your muscles squeezing around Auston's cock as he continued to pound into you.

"Come on baby" he coaxed, his fingers moving to rub against your clit. Tears filled your eyes as your sensitive nub was used to quickly build up another harsh orgasm.

As the waves washed over you once more, Auston came inside of you, his cock throbbing. Auston rolled so you were laying on top of him, still connected as your breathing settled down. He grabbed the sheet on the floor and pulled it over the two of you to keep you from getting cold as your sweaty skin met the cool air of his bedroom.

Your cheek was settled on his chest, eyes closed in pure exhaustion as you listened to his breathing and heart rate settle down.

"I still can't believe you're here" he whispered.

"I am" you confirmed. "And I'll be here for a while."

"Huh?" You lifted your head to look at him, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for his reaction.

"I'm transferring to the University of Toronto."

"Are you fucking with me?" he asked, glimmers of hope in his eyes.

"No, Auston. I didn't want to say anything until I got in, but..." You took another deep breath. "Next semester I'm moving to Toronto."

"Holy fuck I love you" Auston blurted. You laughed and cuddled into your boyfriend. "Mom will be happy you'll be here to cook for me."

"I think she'll be happy for other reasons too." Auston groaned as you giggled.

"We are NOT ready for children yet!"

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Ok there you have it! The adult man child who can't cook or take care of his apartment apparently XD Poor Auston gets roasted from everyone! Anyway let me know what you thought! Up next: Andre Burakovsky!

#auston matthews #matts #matty #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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secretlystephaniebrown · 8 years ago

Text

The Maelstrom Has Us All

The Donut Sibling AUs return! For those of you who are new here, this is really not the best place to start. At all.

A while back the darling @sroloc--elbisivni asked me about an AU where all the sisters AUs happened in the same universe (Donut’s AU, we determined, made everything too tragic to throw in as well). So... Freelancer Mitch coexists alongside Agent Washington, and Martha’s running around on Chorus. Jackie doesn’t get a mention here but it’s safe to guess that she’d pop in eventually.

This is a lot more slapdash than previous AUs have been; I basically realized that to do everything I had in mind it’d take 10k or so. But I figured that what I had was fairly coherent (shout out to the amazing @a-taller-tale for checking it over for me!) And that I might as well share!

Characters: Wash, Maine, Niner, Sharkface, Kimball, Mitch, Carolina, Felix, Locus, ensemble

Ships: Niner/Mitch

Warnings: violence, brainwashing, grief

Link to start of series

“Maine?” She whispered. “Maine, please.” She wanted him to answer her more than anything. For him to wake up, free of Sigma’s influence. To be her friend again, to be whole and happy and not the Meta. For this nightmare to be over. To not be alone anymore. It had been just her and Wash for so long…

Her hands were shaking as she fiddled with the seals of his helmet and pulled it off him. His eyes were open, and he growls at her. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

“Meta?” He reached up, and grabbed her hand and she swallowed, tears beginning to leak down her face.

“Maine.”

He grunted in affirmation, and took her hand, letting her guide him upright.

As soon as he was, she pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re okay,” she sobbed. It was more than she had ever dared hope for.

He tapped her helmet, and she reached up and tossed it to the side without a thought. He rested his forehead against hers.

He grunted the familiar single syllable that was her name, and Mitch felt her face grow even wetter as she clung to him.

“I should check on Wash,” she muttered, after they sat there. “The UNSC is probably on their way.”

Maine nodded, and she moved away, reaching over to check him. The biofoam had been dispensed, and he was stable. Still unconscious though.

She swallowed. “He’s okay.”

Maine pressed his hand against Wash’s helmet.

Mitch licked her lips. She had to think ahead now, had to assess. “I think…” She said, slowly. “We might get in trouble for this. For a while. I’m sure it’ll be cleared up soon, but… if we’re separated…”

Maine grunted a protest.

“Women’s prison, Maine,” Mitch reminded him. “If we’re separated. Can you keep an eye on him? He’s been… it’s not good, Maine. Epsilon hurt him bad.”

Maine nodded, tapping his chestplate once. Promise.

“Be careful, okay?” Mitch said. “Don’t let them hurt you.” She took off Wash’s helmet and carefully started brushing out his hair with her fingers.

When the UNSC came, they dragged Mitch away from her brother and ignored her screams as they put her in handcuffs.

She wouldn’t see her brother or Maine again for a very long time.

The Meta stood far too close for comfort. Wash kept his hands wrapped tight around his gun and held his breath, waiting for the Meta to make a move, to justify shooting him.

Wash was being patient. He was good at the long game. He had waited years to destroy Freelancer. He’d make sure that he was free before avenging Mitch. She’d forgive him for that.

But the Meta didn’t do anything, merely backed away. Wash gritted his teeth. Working alongside his sister’s killer was difficult. But he’d do it. To get to the Alpha, to make that bastard pay for Mitch.

Mitch had been the one who refused to press the issue, who had grabbed Wash by the arm. “It’s the two of us,” she’d said to him, quietly. “We can handle this.”

If Alpha had been there, Wash knew Mitch would be alive. Watching his back.

Wash curled his hands tighter around his rifle.

The Alpha first. Then the Meta.

He’d avenge her. He just needed to bide his time.

“Move,” he said. “We’re heading to Valhalla.”

The Meta followed behind him. Too closely.

Wash raised his gun, feeling oddly calm as he menaced the Simulation Trooper.

Suddenly the Meta was on him, grabbing his arm and twisting it, forcing Wash to drop it with a shout. It hit the ground and went off, hitting the brown Trooper, who went down, cursing in Spanish.

“Get off me!” Wash snarled, trying to break free. The pink and the maroon soldier had ran for it. “Meta, let go of me, or I swear to god—”

The Meta yanked him closer, pressing Wash against his chest. He made a rumbling noise.

No.

Wash growled. “I should kill you,” he snapped. “We need to—we need to know where the Alpha is now.”

The Meta growled again, and Wash hated that he understood him. “Yes, of course I was going to shoot him!”

The Meta wrapped his other arm around Wash, preventing Wash from going for his knives.

“Don’t you dare speak about Mitch,” Wash snapped. “You don’t—you don’t get to talk about her! It’s your fault she’s dead!”

The Meta made a noise that Wash hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“What do you mean, what?” Wash demanded. “You shot her. She bled out.”

The Meta released him suddenly, and Wash spun to face him, hand on his knife, just in time to see him shake his head.

“What do you mean no?” Wash said.

The Meta tapped his helmet, and then shook his head, and then made a single, simple growl.

Wash dropped his knife.

“Maine?”

“What do you mean?” Wash asked, staring at Niner, then Texas, then Carolina.

“She’s alive, Wash,” Niner sounded exhausted but triumphant. “They faked it. We’ve got a signal.”

Wash swallowed. Behind him, he could feel the Reds and Blues shifting.

“You’re sure?” He asked. “It—they could have just taken her armor. Like CT.”

“Video footage,” Texas said, grimly. “Prison transport, heading to some rock called Chorus.”

“But why?” Wash demanded. “Why fake her death? What purpose could they possibly have?”

“Wash,” Carolina said. “The people who have her. It’s the Insurrection.”

Wash stopped cold.

“What’s the Insurrection?” Tucker asked.

“Old enemies,” Wash said, feeling numb. “We fought against them in Project Freelancer.”

“They wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble just to shoot her in a back alley,” Tex said. “They want her alive.”

“And we’re going to find her,” Niner said. “You in, Wash?”

“Yes,” Wash said, immediately. “Yes.”

Tucker nudged Wash. “Dude. Should we go get the Reds? They’ll probably want in on this. Or at least…”

“Maine will,” Wash said in agreement.

“Maine?” The three women chorused, only to be ignored as Tucker took off in the direction of Red Base.

Meanwhile, Church and Tex had started to argue, but Wash didn’t care.

His sister was alive.

“Spar with me,” Felix demanded, tossing his knife up and down.

Michigan tilted her head. She was out of armor for once, wearing fatigues and a tank top. The pelican tattoo on her shoulder was visible, and her brown eyes were dead as ever. Her face didn’t move, no matter what was said to her.

“Felix,” Locus said, warningly.

“What? It’s combat related! I’m allowed to give orders there, remember?” Felix said snidely. “Besides, I want to see how she—oof.”

Michigan had seized Felix by the arm and began to twist, kicking out at the back of his knees, trying to force him down.

“Seriously?” Felix demanded, yelping as Michigan pinned him to the ground, one hand on the back of his neck, the other keeping his arm twisted.

“Round,” Michigan said flatly.

“You cheated,” Felix accused. Michigan stared at him blankly. Felix sighed, and tapped the ground with his other hand. Quickly, she got to her feet and retreated, keeping her eyes on him.

Locus sat down his datapad and leaned forward to observe.

Michigan lunged again, but this time Felix was ready for her and twisted out of the way, drawing his knife out of his holster.

“Let’s see how you do,” he said, slashing upwards, towards her face.

Michigan dodged, and then there was a knife in her own hand, which startled Felix, as he hadn’t seen a sheath on her person.

Felix grinned and lunged again. This was going to be fun.

The armor was a painful shade of grey.

Wash felt himself frozen in place as he stared at the simple, plain armor. It was shiny and in good repair, and the person holding it held a midrange rifle in her armored hand. A knife was visible in a holster at her side, and Wash knew it was far from the only one she had on her person.

“Mitch?” Niner was the one to say it, softly, shattered, brokenly.

“Stay where you are,” the voice was Mitch’s yet not—perfectly stiff. There was no hint of recognition as she trained her gun at them.

“Well!” Felix appeared, knife in hand. Wash opened his mouth to yell at Mitch, to warn her, but Felix clasped a hand on her shoulder in a way that stopped him cold.

“Look who we have here!” Felix crowed.

“Orders, Felix?” Mitch said, cold and clinical.

“What did you do, you bastard?” Niner yells. Carolina, behind him, is frozen.

“I didn’t do anything,” Felix says, still leaning against Mitch. “Michelle here was sent here by our employer!” Wash couldn’t see Felix’s face, but he knew there was a grin. “Michelle’s her name, in case you were wondering, Carolina. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Carolina was very still, and Wash knew that no, Mitch hadn’t ever told her that.

“You son of a bitch,” Carolina said.

“Agent Michigan,” Locus growled. “Kill Agent Washington. Move out!”

There was a spray of gun fire, and the next thing Wash knew, his sister was barreling towards him with a knife in her hand, intent on the kill.

“Mitch, this isn’t you,” the man in grey armor pleaded. “Mitch listen!”

Michigan slashed forward with her knife, sliding it between the gap in his armor. He let out a strangled noise, and gripped at her arm. “Mitch,” he muttered.

“Take her down!” Kimball yelled, and then Michigan’s attention shifted to the general. She let Washington drop to the ground, and grabbed her next knife, with her left hand, her right hand going for her pistol.

She had orders. She was going to follow them.

Epsilon was writhing in her mind—something was wrong, but they didn’t know what. She nearly staggered forward, only the reflex enhancer stopping her from being riddled with bullets as Kimball and the four soldiers with her—the lieutenants, Michigan remembered—opened fire on her.

Flash grenade, roll forward, kick the green one, fire a shot at the blue one, punch the pink one, elbow to the chest for the gold one. The combat movements managed to soothe Epsilon, and he boosted her reflex enhancer, letting her curve herself upward in a flip, propelling herself towards Kimball.

“No!” Michigan wasn’t sure who said it, but she knocked Kimball down to the ground, her knife buried in her shoulder. Non-fatal. She’d have to fix that.

“Now that is not very nice!” The big blue one was there, suddenly, lifting her off before she could yank the blade out.

“Caboose! Keep hold of her!” Which one was that?

“I have found Freckles’s friend!” Captain Caboose cheered. Michigan twisted in his grip. Epsilon was yelling again. Her armor was covered in blood.

She grabbed the knife hidden in her gauntlets and stabbed his leg, forcing him to let her go.

“Retreat, Agent Michigan,” Locus growled in her ear, a sniper shot going off, forcing the enemy to scatter.

Michigan did so without hesitation.

But she did notice that Agent Washington’s fallen form was no longer there. She wasn’t sure why that seemed to slow down her heartrate and calm Epsilon.

“She’s fighting it,” Wash said, lowly.

Carolina froze in the doorway. “What?”

“She left the knife in, Carolina.”

“She was switching targets,” Carolina said, but her face was thoughtful.

“When did that ever stop her?” Wash forced himself to sit up. “And she did it to Kimball too! She’s fighting it, fighting the orders!”

Carolina looks at him. “If she’s fighting it…”

“We might be able to break it,” Wash said.

“That’s a great theory, but we still don’t know what they did to her,” Tex points out, crossing her arms. “And it could just be that whatever they did to her scrambled her instincts.” Wash tried to get up, and she pushed him back down. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I think we need proof.”

“I’ve got proof,” Wash snapped, reaching into the drawer and pulling out the knife she’d slid between his ribs. “Maine, look.”

Maine took the knife from Wash, and turned it over slowly in his hands. A short, rumbling noise burst out of Maine’s chest, startling Tex.

“What is it?”

“Her lucky knife,” Wash said. “She’d leave it with me or Maine if one of us had a dangerous mission without her.”

“Could be a coincidence,” Tex pointed out.

Wash shook her head. “She’s got better knives,” he insisted. “This one’s lucky.”

Carolina took it from Maine and looked at it. “Niner gave this to her,” she whispered. “I remember it.”

Wash had forgotten that part. He still didn’t remember, but he nodded anyway. “She’s trying to protect us,” he said. “Carolina, we need to convince Kimball not to kill her.”

Tex flicked his forehead. “Wash. She’s not going to tell the armies not to defend themselves.”

Wash swallowed, then schooled his face. “Then we need to get her out of there soon.”

Sharkface grabbed her throat. “Nothing to say, huh?”

Michigan shoved him away, face actually showing emotion for once—irritation. “Mission completed,” she said, and there was an edge to it, a bite, that she’d lacked before.

“So you can talk,” Sharkface mocked, kicking her helmet where it had fallen to the ground, sending it spinning away. Michigan’s normally blank face twisted into something close to a scowl.

“Confirm,” she spat.

“Well then,” he said, moving closer into her personal space. “Tell me this. Do you know who I am?”

“Sharkface,” she said, her features slowly settling back into her normal, empty self. “Allowed to give orders under combat situations. Orders may be ignored in certain circumstances. Permitted to be killed if necessary.”

Sharkface paused, realizing something for the first time. “You’re not supposed to tell me that.”

“No orders were given to hide them from you,” Michigan retorted. She was standing at parade rest. She still hadn’t moved to retrieve her helmet.

Sharkface examined her face, and spotted… something in her eye. A tiny little spark. He found himself chuckling. “You’re fighting it. Oh, this will be interesting.”

Sharkface reached out and grabbed Michigan’s shoulder, blinking when the strap of her tank top shifted, revealing an intricate pelican tattoo. “What’s that for?” He grunted, not expecting an answer.

Michigan’s eyes grew distant. “I’m getting married,�� she said, reaching up, her fingers almost touching the tattoo, but stopping just short of it. “Someday. She said yes.” There was a dampness that Sharkface had never seen before. He glanced around quickly and was grateful when no one else was near. Michigan showing odd emotions was something they were supposed to report.

She was supposed to be robotic, emotionless, and efficient. And she was. Most of the time. But sometimes, when Sharkface cornered her, when she’d been awake too long or was fresh from a fight, Sharkface could get reactions out of her. Real reactions. And memories.

Epsilon flickered over her shoulder. “Will you quit it?” He demanded. “You’re going to get us in trouble. We need sleep.”

We. Sharkface never questioned the plural.

Maybe he should.

He said nothing, and let Michigan and her AI go find their little corner of the base where she was tucked away. Sharkface had seen it. It was more of a cell than anything else—because of course, she’d never complain. Comfort was for those who could appreciate it.

Sharkface had never been on a mission alone with Michigan before.

The more he learned about Michigan, the less comfortable things were. They were supposed to report everything from contact with the Simulation Troopers to crying to odd noises.

They kept their pet Freelancer on a very short leash.

“How do you know Price?” He asked her. They’d been sent ahead to scout and she had just woken up for her shift. One of the best times to get real answers out of her.

“He worked for Freelancer,” she said. “He gave me the name Michigan. I think he thought it was funny.”

Sharkface had suspected this for a while. “That’s what I thought.”

He angled his head up towards the sky, and saw the birds moving. Signs of the Chorusians’s movement forward.

“We should get moving,” she said, following his gaze.

“Yes,” Sharkface said. “We should.”

She reached for her helmet.

Epsilon was always slower when she’d just woken up.

He was too slow to activate the reflex enhancer, too slow to stop Sharkface from picking up the big rock and slamming it down on Michigan’s head.

He took her helmet as he dragged her to the warthog. No need to leave it behind. She’d be wanting it.

They kept her on a short leash. That meant they were worried about it breaking.

He gritted his teeth when he saw that he was approaching Texas and Maine. He’d been hoping for Washington.

Their guns were pointed right at him.

He shrugged and raised his hand. “She said something about wanting to find her brothers,” he said easily.

As Texas pinned him to the ground and started cuffing him, he watched as Maine carefully removed Michigan’s armor and carried her away, oddly gentle.

Kimball glanced down at the woman handcuffed to the bed frame. She looked different out of armor. Her face was too thin and sallow, the faint traces of freckles barely visible. Her hair had been cut with a knife, unevenly and slanted. Her head was bowed, leaving the back of her neck exposed. There were scars, reaching out from the port on the back of Agent Michigan’s neck like a spiderweb, bright red and irritated.

She glanced up, finally noticing Kimball. Her eyes were brown, like Martha’s. But apart from that, Kimball was uncannily reminded of Wash.

“General,” Michigan said. Even her voice sounded different. Hesitant. Human.

Niner and Wash had fought them about the handcuffs. But the others hadn’t said a word. Kimball had ordered them both to get some rest, so Michigan was accompanied only by Donut, who had been talking cheerfully before Kimball had walked in.

“You know me then,” Kimball said.

Michigan bared her teeth in something that was clearly supposed to be a smile but came off as more of a grimace. “General Vanessa Kimball of the New Republic. Orders: kill her if she begins to suspect Felix or begins to discuss negotiations with the Federal Army.”

Kimball didn’t react. “And here I thought Felix would take care of that himself,” she said.

Michigan shrugged as best she could with the handcuffs. “He’d take point if he could. Same with… the General.” Something dark flashed across her face but she hid it quickly. If Kimball hadn’t been looking for it, she’d have missed it. “But if he was indisposed, I was to do it. Close range execution was preferred. No knives. It’d be too suspicious. Quick and clean and painless.” She snorted.

“Painless?” Kimball couldn’t help but ask.

“Felix’s orders,” Michigan said, and Kimball stared.

“Wow!” Donut said. “What a jerk!”

Kimball startled at the realization they weren’t alone. “Private Donut,” she said. “I think you should report to the General.”

Donut gave Michigan a worried look, but got to his feet. He got close—too close and kissed his sister on the cheek quickly before running off. Kimball nearly flinched, half-expecting to have a hostage situation on her hands. But Michigan let him go, and only looked after him longingly for a moment before returning her full attention to Kimball.

“Where is Martha?” Michigan said.

“It was decided that I’ll be handling this,” Kimball said grimly. “As an impartial party.”

Michigan let out a soft, bitter chuckle. “You’re not impartial, General,” she said. “You’re just the only one who’s willing to admit that I might have been a willing partner.”

Kimball sighed. “Perhaps.”

Michigan twisted her hands. “I can’t prove it,” she pointed out. “I was arrested, and then they transferred me, and then they implanted me, but I doubt you can prove when they put… Epsilon,” the name was short and painful, “In my head. Your doctor’s good, but I doubt she can tell that.”

“Actually, I can,” Grey said, exiting her office. “Well. I can’t. But someone can. It’ll be in Epsilon’s logs.”

Michigan shook her head. “No. It won’t.” She bit her lip. “Epsilon self-wiped regularly. It was part of our routine. He wiped me, he wiped himself of all extraneous information.”

Kimball raised her eyebrow. “That’s… extreme.”

“The programming was fragile,” Michigan said. “They needed to ensure I was under control.”

Kimball felt the knife scar on her shoulder twinge. “I can see why they’d be afraid of losing that,” she said.

Michigan met her eyes steadily. “What do you want from me, General?”

Kimball leaned forward. “What do you have, Agent?”

“Information,” Michigan said instantly. “Months. Your Doctor Grey managed to make sure I remember everything. Even the things Epsilon made me forget. And I’ve been fighting with them just as long. I know how they work, I know how they fight, I know their numbers.” And then she grinned, a dangerous one with too many teeth. “And if you give me a knife and get me close enough, I’ll get you Felix’s head,” she offered.

“Not a gun?”

“I’m better with knives.”

Kimball looked at her. “You’re not free yet. But I’ll tell Washington and Niner you’re allowed visitors.”

Something cracked behind Michigan’s clear brown eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Kimball looked away, and got to her feet. “Doctor Grey, keep an eye on her,” she ordered. “We can’t take any risks here.”

#Steph Writes #Donut Siblings #Freelancer Mitch #General Martha #this is ridiculously self indulgent and i'm sorry

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