Tangible Schizophrenia

Email
LiveJournal
DeadJournal

How Many Bullets?

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: See below.
Pairing: Varies from drabble to drabble; see individual notes.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Pimpin' my minor fandoms. Some crossovers; again, see individual drabbles.
Summary: Stick a plot in a .45 and see what comes out. It's a pretty interesting technique.

***

Purging: gen Seth, G, for roadparty

When he went into prison, Seth had a hell of a lot of anger. He was pissed at his dumbass partners, pissed at his treacherous cunt of an ex-wife, pissed at his lawyer--hell, he wasn't too happy with himself, either.

But three walls and some bars don't take no shit from anyone. In fact, they didn't take anything. Just were there, and there, and there until Seth thought he would explode.

He got a tattoo instead. Some men wore their hearts on their sleeve...well, he wore his rage. And then he felt better.

***

Nice Girl: Seth/Richie/Kate, PG, slight incest, for fuzipenguin

She was all right, Seth supposed. Good ass, okay breasts, plain-faced but smart. All right, but nothing to drool over.

"Seth..." Richie started, breathing heavy as lead on Seth's ear.

"Goddamn it, stop that," Seth hissed back. He smacked Richie on the knee, trying not to flinch at the way his brother pressed against him. On his other side, Kate apparently figured he made a good cling-pole, what with the way she was both cringing from Richie and trying to hide inside Seth.

It was fucking uncomfortable. Both ways. Every way.

***

Open 24 Hrs.: Mig/Seth, PG, for cjss
Note: Part of The Road. Bunny from inkbug.

Given what they did for a living, shopping at normal times of day wasn't exactly possible. Though Seth didn't get stuck with the duty too often, given Mort's talent for gardening. Actually, the only reason he had this time was because Ahmed had shown up too tired and bloody to go out, and Mort refused to leave the house without him.

Still, this was stupid. "Jesus. Mig, tell me he's not mugging us with a six-shooter."

Maybe Seth shouldn't have closed his eyes a moment ago, no matter how his head was pounding.

Mig looked up from the body, hands full of scavenged credit cards. He was bouncing on his heels, and his ass was twitching from side-to-side. "Well, he was, the stupid prick. Isn't now. You wanna dump body and fuck, or fuck first and then get rid of it?"

***

Down South: Seth/Kate, PG, for megpie71

El Rey's warm and lazy and everything that Seth had promised it would be. It's even almost good enough to make Kate forget about the way she ended up here.

Seth's got the same problem. He stumbles home drunk six days out of seven, never making it past the front door before he passes out. Usually, Kate just hauls his ass into bed and goes back to sitting on the balcony, thinking about nothing and whittling wood.

She's on her thirtieth stake when the night comes that she's too tired to go anywhere after dragging Seth to the mattress. And the morning's going to be awkward, but he looks almost innocent in the night. So she lies down next to him and goes to sleep.

***

Home