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kallie-den · 2 months ago

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A Commanding Weakness Ch. 10

Uma Vilchis, the Inyx's mess officer, is the last to fall - and Wasp decides to have some fun giving the plump cook a brand new fetish

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“There we go,” Dr. Hiraga told the mess officer lying in her examination chair. “All done.”

Mess officer Uma Vilchis yawned and stretched as she woke. She blinked a few times. For some reason, she was left with the persistent impression of bright, swirling lights shining straight into her eyes.

“Huh,” she said sleepily. “That really was painless.”

“Is that what people have been saying?” Dr. Hiraga smiled professionally as she made notes on her dataslate.

Uma nodded. “I’ve been hearing all about it for weeks.”

“Weeks,” Dr. Hiraga repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose it has been, hasn’t it? I’ve been too busy to keep track, but we’re finally almost done with the imp- I mean, the inoculation. You’re pretty much the last one.”

“The last one.” Uma sighed as she sat up. “Isn’t that just typical?”

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Hiraga said, taken aback.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Uma shrugged. “It makes sense. I guess the mess officer really is about the last person who needs an inoculation against some kind of alien virus.” She visibly bucked herself up and slapped a forced smile on her face. “My apologies, doctor. I shouldn’t make any of this your problem. I’m just… well, it’s been a long tour. Not a lot of excitement involved for someone like me.”

Not a lot of excitement back home either, although Uma left that part unsaid. The source of Uma’s maudlin mood was simple: she was bored and felt hopelessly overlooked. A solution, unfortunately, was far less simple. As always, Uma tried to focus on her responsibilities as mess officer. On good food, and on being a warm and friendly face to all the weary crewmen who came to the Inyx’s mess hall for rest and succor. Uma liked to think that she played a small but critical part in keeping morale high and making sure the ship continued to operate at peak performance.

But keeping the smile on her face was getting harder and harder. The long tour was wearing on people. The crew was tired and irritable. They didn’t want to chat with their friendly mess officer. And lately, there had been another change in mood, growing steadily with each passing day. Uma couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was like everyone else was in on a secret joke Uma simply wasn’t privy to.

Most of the crew were probably hoping that their mission would come to an end soon and that they’d be able to return home and see their friends and families again. For Uma, though, that prospect offered little comfort. She had a family, yes. Kids, even. But in recent years, her personal life had seemed just as unrewarding as her professional one. It wasn’t bad, exactly. Just like being the mess officer on the Inyx wasn’t bad.

Uma just needed a little excitement in her life.

“Not a lot of excitement, huh?” came a voice. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Uma looked around sharply. She could have sworn that she and the doctor had been alone in medbay, but now there was a third woman in the room with them. Uma couldn’t imagine where she might have come from. It was like she had just appeared out of thin air. Strangely, Dr. Hiraga had no response whatsoever to the stranger’s sudden appearance.

Stranger still, there was something familiar about her. Uma could have sworn she recognized her from somewhere. Was she on the crew? She didn’t look like it, not with those technopunk clothes and that unruly, electric green hair. Maybe she had been in one of the briefings that the captain circulated from time to time. Uma barely paid attention to those. They weren’t particularly relevant to the mess hall, after all.

“Hi,” Uma said, for want of anything better to say. “Do I know you?”

“Sure you do,” the punk woman promised as she slouched her way across the room. There was something distinctly sleazy about the way she spoke. “I’m the… uh… how about the ‘uniform compliance officer’?” She snickered. “Yeah. I’m that.”

Uma stopped trying to smile. Something was clearly wrong here. “That doesn’t make sense. The Alliance doesn’t have uniform compliance officers.”

The woman just winked mischievously and lifted her hand with a flourish. “You do now.”

She snapped her fingers.

At once, the room around Uma disappeared, drowned out by a vast, spinning, kaleidoscopic pattern that immediately tugged at her will, promising to steal it away. With her last few moments of consciousness, Uma reflected that, before, she’d been wrong. The lights hadn’t been shining into her eyes. They’d been coming from behind them.

Then, even that thought was gone. The holo-implant Dr. Hiraga had just planted in Uma’s brain drowned out her conscious mind, leaving her nothing more than an empty vessel for whatever thoughts and feelings Wasp wanted to pour into her. And once Uma was completely hypnotized, the spiral began to pour. Shifting with every passing instant, it encoded its visual pattern with layers and layers of information that swiftly reprogrammed Uma’s mind. The implant had long since been perfected. It admitted no resistance. Within just moments, Uma’s deeply-formed ideas about propriety, hierarchy, and common sense were all formed anew.

Eventually, the implant switched off and Uma returned to consciousness. Blearily, the mess officer rubbed her eyes. The lingering effects were far worse than those of the procedure.

She frowned, confused. The lingering effects of what?

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said slowly, to the strange woman still standing in front of her. “I must have… I must have… um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman offered a touch impatiently. “I was just telling you, I’m the uniform compliance officer. Uniform Compliance Officer Wasp.”

“Wasp,” Uma echoed slowly. Why did that name sound so familiar? Then she remembered, and it all fell into place. Of course it was familiar! Uma rose to her feet and saluted stiffly, embarrassed at her lapse of memory. “Uniform compliance officer! Forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wasp said. She was grinning from ear to ear. “At ease.”

Uma relaxed gratefully. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why the uniform compliance officer had come here, of all places. Moreover, though, she was simply embarrassed to have forgotten about her at first. Forgetting about such an important, high-ranking officer was a major faux pas. Fortunately, Wasp didn’t seem inclined to pull her up on it. Instead, she swiped the dataslate out of Dr. Hiraga’s hand and started reading it. The doctor still didn’t react.

“You’re… right, the mess officer!” Wasp nodded slowly. “Uma Vilchis. I remember you from the crew roster. Not from the holodeck, though. Not much of a fantasy life, huh?”

“I suppose not, sir,” Uma replied.

“That’s kind of a shame.” Wasp made a point of looking Uma up and down, plainly ogling her body. She wolf-whistled appreciatively. “I wish we’d gotten to know each other sooner. Could have had some fun with you. There aren’t a lot of women built like you on military starships.”

Uma shifted uncomfortably. The way Wasp was talking to her and looking at her seemed unmistakably sexual and inappropriate - but who was she to question such a high-ranking officer?

“Well, you know what people say, sir,” she laughed nervously. “Never trust a skinny cook.”

As mess officer, that distrust was one thing Uma never had to worry about. Uma was visibly, undeniably full-figured and plump, and always had been. It was all over: her face, her chest, her belly, her thighs. Uma was, quite simply, fat. She didn’t dislike it, even if it sometimes made her self-conscious. Her figure had always been natural to her - not helped, admittedly, by the same love of food that had guided her to becoming a mess officer. A pair of pregnancies had only made matters worse, although, from the whispers that reached her ears, Uma understood that there were more than a few women aboard the Inyx who quietly appreciated the way the extra weight sat on her hips and her ass.

It was, admittedly, true, that her physique wasn’t quite up to military regs. But even stern commanders like Captain Vasser tended to let that particular regulation slip. Nobody wanted to see a skinny cook in the mess hall — and besides, it wasn’t like she was in any danger of being sent into combat.

“Anyway,” Uma added, hoping to put an end to Wasp’s scrutiny. “I think you’ll find my uniform entirely up to code, sir.”

“Hm,” Wasp mused. “Yeah, actually, no. It’s not.”

“It’s not?” Uma blinked, dismayed. She didn’t understand. She was always fastidious in her presentation. She looked down at herself, but saw nothing amiss.

“See, there’s actually a brand new uniform for the mess officer.” Wasp’s grin somehow widened still further. She could barely keep herself from cackling. “It’s just come into force. It’s meant to help liven things up a bit. That’s why I’m here, actually. To bring you up to speed.” She threw an arm around Uma’s shoulder. Uma was too distracted to register that she was a hardlight hologram. “Come with me. Let’s get you fitted.”

***

"D-d-d-,” Uma stammered, blushing so deep she thought her face would melt as the sheer, unrelenting embarrassment she felt robbed her of her words, “d-d-do I h-h-have to?”

“Yes,” Wasp replied impatiently. “It’s the new uniform. Now, hurry up!”

Hands trembling, Uma could only nod meekly and keep working the long, red, soft rope around her own body. Completing the ties - the shibari, Wasp had called it - hadn’t been easy. It was all new to Uma, but she was good with knots, at least, and Wasp had been a very insistent teacher.

As she wrapped the latest length of rope around her thigh, pulling it tight so it pressed into her soft flesh, Uma once again checked the diagram Wasp had pulled up for her on the dataslate. It was exacting, and following it had taken forever. Uma couldn’t believe how long these regulations were getting, and she didn’t understand why they were being posted on illicit holonet sites - but who was she to question the uniform compliance officer? At least it seemed like she was almost done, but Uma wasn’t sure if that was a curse or a blessing. On the one hand, Uma was keen to put this humiliating ritual behind her.

On the other, if she kept going, she’d at least have more rope covering her body up.

Once Uma finished the knot, Wasp stepped back, looked the mess officer up and down, and clapped her hands together out of sheer glee. “Oh, yes! Looking good, girl.”

Uma wanted to shrink into her own skin.

“I c-can’t,” she bleated. “Y-you expect me to g-go out there? L-like this?”

All the way down her torso and around her hips, Uma was bound tight with rope. It fell about her in symmetrical loops, artfully designed to best accentuate every aspect of the female form. The ties around her breasts pinched and lifted them, making them seem bigger, more prominent, infinitely soft and inviting. Across her stomach, the rope was worked into a diamond pattern, like netting, drawing attention to the pale, alluring skin beneath. Around her hips, the ropes pulled tight, pressing against Uma’s curves and reminding her of their presence with every step.

On any woman, they would have looked unmistakably sexual. On Uma, it was on another level.

At Wasp’s instruction, Uma had pulled the ropes particularly tight around her prodigiously soft body. The effect was magnificent. Everywhere, Uma’s plump body bulged visibly between the gaps in the ropes. It was like she was begging for all who saw her to reach out and sink their fingers into her needy, yielding flesh. Around her stomach, it was especially visible. The rope bondage acted like lingerie, framing and shaping Uma’s belly. It made her look like the very image of fertility.

Nothing could have been more desperately embarrassing.

“It’s your uniform, Miss Vilchis,” Wasp drawled, rising to her feet. “What kind of Alliance officer objects to their uniform?”

“It’s… that’s…”

Uma’s mouth kept moving, but her brain froze up, paralyzed by the absurd contradictions in what she was hearing. It was ridiculous for rope bondage to serve as a military uniform. And yet, it did. That was what the uniform compliance officer was telling her. She could not think otherwise.

“B-but…” Uma said frantically, searching for any way out. “It’s… it’s indecent!”

“Indecent?” Wasp laughed. “Is that any way to talk about your uniform?”

Uma squeaked. “N-no, sir!”

“You should be proud of your uniform!” Wasp declared. “Isn’t that right?”

Uma turned an even deeper shade of red and nodded miserably. “Y-yes, sir. But… I… proud?”

Wasp shrugged, a cruel smirk writ large on her face. “I simply don’t see the issue.”

Uma squeezed her legs together and shivered as she felt rope rubbing against her skin. She knew Wasp was right — she was in charge of uniforms, after all — but she couldn’t help reaching for excuses all the same. “B-but it might… wouldn’t it… um… d-distract the rest of the crew?”

Wasp sighed theatrically. “Maybe, admittedly, this is just a little bit too early for something quite so… open. Even if the rest of the crew have been implanted, they aren’t broken in quite yet.”

Uma had no idea what she was talking about, but a sigh of relief was on her lips as she sensed Wasp’s resolve wavering.

“Fine,” Wasp said eventually. “Have it your way.”

“I can wear a different uniform?” Uma asked hastily.

“Oh, no.” Wasp’s smirk returned with a vengeance. Uma couldn’t help but be struck by the feeling that she’d stepped into some kind of trap. “Not quite.”

Just a few minutes later, Uma was walking gingerly through the Inyx’s corridors, heading for the mess hall - and desperately praying that her embarrassment didn’t show in her face.

They can’t see, she told herself. They can’t see what I’m wearing.

“Good afternoon, Uma!” someone called out, as Uma rounded a corner. A crewman. Uma didn’t know their name, but she did recognize them. A regular friendly face at the mess.

“G-good afternoon!” As she replied, Uma tried her hardest to sound casual. It didn’t work. Her voice was an octave higher than usual.

Mercifully, the crewman didn’t comment. A strange look passed over their face, but they kept walking without saying another word.

Uma sighed with relief - but her relief was dashed as soon as she walked past another vent, and felt a breath of cool air passing over her skin. It was an unpleasant reminder of just how naked she truly was.

She was still dressed in the uniform Wasp had prescribed for her: intricate, bright red rope bondage, artistically wound around her entire body. The only difference was that nobody else could see it. Before sending her down to work her regular shift at the mess, Wasp had issued Uma with a portable holographic projector which, attached to one of the ropes on her torso, projected a perfect simulacrum of her old, standard-issue Alliance uniform.

In a way, it was an ideal solution. Uma’s modesty was perfectly preserved.

And in a way, it solved absolutely nothing.

For instance, as Uma arrived at the mess and busied herself preparing meals for the crew who were just about to come off their shifts, she found she couldn’t quite ignore the way one of those ropes snaked up between her thighs and pressed against her sex every time she moved.

More and more, it was becoming a distraction. A sharp bite of unwelcome pleasure that nipped at her over and over again, threatening to turn her words into moans and fill her face with unwholesome color.

Why did she have to wear this under the hologram? Uma kept asking herself that question. And she kept reminding herself of the only answer she had:

It was her uniform. She had no choice.

All Uma could do was take deep breaths in a bid to stay calm as she started serving the crew of the Inyx their meals. One by one, the weary crewmen came to queue up in front of Uma so she could dole out the meals she had carefully prepared earlier that day. As usual, most of them had little more to offer in return than a nod or a half-grunted acknowledgment. Normally, that would have gotten on Uma’s nerves.

Now, she was desperately thankful.

They couldn’t see what she was wearing. But reminding herself of that did Uma little good when she could still feel the cool air against her bare skin all over her body. When she could still feel the ropes. Whenever Uma looked down at herself, the illusion seemed paper-thin.

She was naked. Worse than naked.

And it was driving her crazy.

Every new face became a source of excitement. Every interaction became a fight to keep a cool, composed demeanor. It didn’t matter what she told herself. Her brain would not accept that she was clothed. It knew the truth and screamed it at her, drawing sweat from her brow and slapping an uneven, nervous smile on her face.

“Hey, Uma!” came a familiar voice. Uma looked up and recognized a crewman — Rhea — who always took the time to chat. “How’s your shift treating you?”

“G-good!” Uma squeaked, then winced. Her voice was horrifically uneven, and elicited a perplexed look in response. Uma’s anxiety doubled. She felt it in her gut as a tight knot. “Um. How’s… yours?”

“Fine, I guess,” Rhea replied. Normally, their exchange might have ended there. But it was too late. Uma had aroused her close attention. “You OK? You seem a little… off.”

“N-nope!” Uma tried even harder to control her voice. It only made matters worse. “I-I mean… yes! I’m OK. Just… um…”

She tried to think of an excuse. Her mind short-circuited. The only thought thundering through her head was a single conviction, irrational but all-consuming.

She can see. Rhea can see. She can see everything.

Rhea’s eyes flicked up and down over Uma’s plump physique. Uma could feel them stabbing into her, sharp as needle points. They seemed to strip away the ephemeral guise of the hologram, leaving Uma’s tender, soft flesh bared for the shocked, lustful gazes of all who had come to the mess.

“We’ve been out here so long,” Rhea offered sympathetically. “Maybe you should take a little more rec time? I’m sure the captain would-“

A cough from somewhere back in the queue interrupted them. “Hurry up!”

“Oops.” Mercifully, Rhea hurried along, freeing Uma from her scrutiny. “Sorry!”

Uma only had a moment to gather herself before she needed to serve the next crewman. As she did, she was panting. She couldn’t center herself. She just kept falling into the desperate thrill of her new uniform.

Then it occurred to her: wasn’t this exactly the excitement she had been craving?

She choked down on the thought at once, guided by two contradictory impulses. One told her sternly that she wasn’t the kind of pervert who would take excitement from something so utterly humiliating. The other whispered that she was exactly that kind of pervert if she found something as mundane as her uniform sexually humiliating.

Uma frowned, assailed by a moment of dizzy confusion. It was like she was on the cusp of grasping some deeper truth - but it never came.

And with the seemingly never-ending queue of hungry crewmen, she had no time to dwell on it. Uma turned to serve the next, and the next, and the next, and with each one, the anxious heat in her body only grew and grew. By the time the next familiar face appeared at the counter, the rope between her legs was pressing so hard against her cunt, every movement was blissful agony.

“Good day, Uma,” said Lieutenant Kuznetzov, greeting the mess officer with a warm smile. “Everything running smoothly as usual?”

It was only recently that Lieutenant Kuznetzov had become one of Uma’s reliably friendly faces. Before, she’d been one of the least approachable of all; a butch, imposing woman with an unreadable face and no words to offer but criticisms. Now, she was unfailingly bright and sunny. She’d grown her hair out into an appealing bob, set off against a full face of makeup. Instead of her uniform, she wore a pretty little dress that set off all her body’s feminine features.

Or was that simply her uniform now? Uma couldn’t be sure.

“Of c-course,” Uma whimpered. As unthreatening as she was now, Lieutenant Kuznetzov’s eyes still felt like hot knives. Uma shivered all over, and felt the ropes more keenly than ever.

Again, Uma’s voice betrayed her plight. She just couldn’t keep it even, not when she was experiencing such constant stimulation. When Lieutenant Kuznetzov gave her a surprised look, Uma thought for sure she was going to be discovered. Surely there was no way someone as perceptive as the lieutenant would fail to notice that something strange was going on with her. But as Lieutenant Kuznetzov looked, Uma started to realize there was something off about her gaze. It was dull, somehow; glazed over, lacking all of its usual sharpness. If Uma hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that Lieutenant Kuznetzov was somehow tranquilized.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the searching look on Lieutenant Kuznetzov’s face eventually slackened into a dull, agreeable smile. “You look nice,” she said, before she took the tray of food Uma was holding out for her and moved along.

It was a banal comment, but it still set Uma twitching with a fierce mix of emotions. She looked nice? What did that mean? Had Lieutenant Kuznetzov noticed something? Uma peered at a nearby metal counter, studying her reflection. She looked normal, didn’t she? Didn’t she?

As far as Uma could tell, her holographic guise was holding up well. There was no hint of the binding ropes beneath. But that didn’t mean Uma looked normal. Far from it. As she looked into the makeshift mirror, Uma was struck by the dumb, nervous grin that refused to slip from her face, and by the hint of lurid color in her cheeks. Even if the ropes didn’t show, the thrill certainly did. Uma was glowing with it.

She looked good.

That simple observation set Uma’s heart aflutter. What did that mean? Why did she look so good like this?

And why was she enjoying it so much?

It was just a uniform, she told herself. Just a uniform. Nothing more. Uma’s brow furrowed. Once again, the blatant contradictions started to gnaw at her. If it was just a uniform, why was she so turned on? If it was just a uniform, why did she feel the need to hide it?

It was almost like-

“How’s it going, babe?”

Uma blinked, startled by the voice. She looked over and saw exactly what she had been afraid of. It was Wasp.

The uniform compliance officer.

As she looked Uma up and down, a ravenous look in her eyes, Uma made herself stand up straight, even though it forced the rope between her legs to press even deeper into her sensitive cunt. Her hands at her sides, she tried to subtly pull on a few ties here and there, arranging them to be just so.

She needed to look her best. Her uniform had to be perfect.

“Very good, sir,” Uma managed, just barely not moaning. It was far from the truth, of course, but it wouldn’t do to complain in front of such a senior officer.

“Great, great,” Wasp drawled. She seemed to be able to see straight through the holographic projection of Uma’s old uniform. Uma didn’t think to question that, although she did notice that Wasp seemed to be holding something behind her back. “You look… mmf. Good enough to eat.”

Uma shivered. She felt herself soiling the rope with her wetness. “T-thank you, sir.”

“But, see, I’m actually here ‘cause I forgot something,” Wasp added swiftly. “There’s, uh, an extra regulation. Something else you need for your uniform.”

“What is it?” Uma asked. The grin on Wasp’s face made her feel like she was stepping on a land mine just by asking.

“Here!” Wasp declared, and revealed the object she was holding with a gleeful flourish.

It was a dildo.

Uma was instantly, utterly aghast at the object. A hundred different protests immediately rose to her lips. This was absurd. A dildo wasn’t part of any kind of uniform. It wasn’t clothing at all, it was a sex toy. This was degrading. Humiliating. Where did Wasp get her authority from? Since when did the Inyx have a ‘uniform compliance officer’? Was that even a real position? Shouldn’t she speak to the captain about this?

Then, almost as quickly, the protests were smothered by a logic that was equal parts foreign, ridiculous, and utterly implacable.

Wasp was the uniform compliance officer. That meant she was in charge of uniforms. And Uma needed to wear her uniform.

Suddenly, as perturbed as Uma was by the object in Uma’s hands. She couldn’t help but yearn for it.

Her uniform simply wasn’t complete without the dildo.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed, though. She was. Deathly so. Uma’s cheeks burned bright scarlet as she ushered Wasp toward the privacy of the ship’s galley.

“S-sorry, sir,” Uma whispered. “I… I hadn’t realized. I’ll take care of it at once. Just… in private. Please.”

She was so flustered, she didn’t think to question the way Wasp simply phased through the counter to join Uma in the galley, out of sight of the queuing crew members. A few of them let out impatient sighs, but besides that, none of them seemed to take much notice.

Once the door to the galley slid shut, Wasp held the dildo out toward Uma. The mess officer took it gingerly, and her shame only grew once it became clear that Wasp fully intended to watch her.

Uma couldn’t protest against it. Wasp was the uniform compliance officer. It was her right.

All Uma could do was try to stifle a moan as she pulled the rope between her legs to one side and pushed the seven-inch dildo all the way inside herself.

She failed.

“S-s-sorry, sir,” Uma bleated after the shrill moan erupted from her lips. “It’s u-unprofessional. Sorry. I j-just-“

Her words died. She couldn’t think. The long, hard, silicone shaft inside her pussy was turning her legs to jelly.

“Don’t worry about it.” The lurid, smarmy look on Wasp’s face was all but manic. “New uniforms take a little breaking in, am I right?”

“Y-y-yeah,” Uma agreed breathlessly.

She tried to close her legs. That was a mistake. A sharp, electric shock of pleasure almost made her bend double. Uma tried to take her hand away and found that the shibari tie running between her thighs was taut enough to keep the dildo in place, resting on it.

Uma couldn’t breathe for panting. She could see stars. Her knees were weak. A few droplets of wetness trickled down the dildo and fell to the floor. Her heart was pounding. She had never been so feverishly excited.

“Great,” Wasp said, openly leering at Uma. “Then, I guess you’d better hurry up and get back to work, officer!”

"Y-yes, sir,” Uma whimpered, offering a weak salute. She took her duty seriously, of course, but she couldn’t imagine how she was going to be able to perform it now.

She turned to head back out to the counter, and the very first step she took almost brought her to her knees.

It was impossible to move without working the toy even deeper inside her body, pressing ever more insistently against the most sensitive parts of her. Uma couldn’t even minimize the pleasure without resorting to an awkward, bow-legged gait that gave her away at once. All she could do was try not to let it show, but by the time she reached the counter, she needed to lean on it heavily just to keep herself upright. Uma’s every nerve ending was lit up, hypersensitive, ready to explode.

“Oh, just one more thing,” Wasp said, as she waltzed past Uma. “The regs say it needs to be switched on, too.”

Uma barely had time to process the significance of that before Wasp snapped her fingers — and the toy inside Uma’s cunt started to vibrate.

At once, Uma bent double and came.

She had already been on a hair trigger. The sensation of intense, merciless vibrations radiating from within her core was more than enough to push her over the edge. Uma saw white, and only managed to keep herself from moaning by expelling all the air from her lungs in a desperate, ragged gasp. For a brief moment, Uma forgot her shame and was carried away by the great wave of pleasure that ripped through her body.

Then, a voice called her back.

“Hey, can we get some grub already?”

Uma looked up, and as she saw the queue ahead of her, adrenaline flooded her veins and brought a goofy grin to her face. “S-sure!”

Her orgasm never quite seemed to end, as she forced herself back to the task of serving up hot meals to the Inyx’s weary crew. The pleasure stayed in her body, a constant current, ebbing and flowing whenever she moved. There was no escaping it. Every rope that dug into Uma’s chest, or her hips, or her belly, was a reminder. It all made her shame burn hot, lending a delectable thrill to each and every interaction. Every time someone so much as glanced at Uma, she was forced to ask: did they know? Could they tell?

And she had never felt more alive.

It was just so exciting. Now that her orgasm had thoroughly scrambled Uma’s better judgment, she couldn’t help but enjoy herself. For so long, every shift had been drudgery. But this was the farthest thing from boring. She was afraid of being discovered, yes, but it was a delicious fear. Something to be savored. For the first time in her life, Uma began to understand why people loved horror movies so much. It was just the same: the agonizing tension, building towards the inevitable plunge.

She couldn’t wait.

Uma was still embarrassed and ashamed, of course. Desperately so. She was a pervert. There was no denying it now. It was far too obvious. Instead, she faced a different dilemma. A different contradiction.

Did she really want to keep her uniform hidden? Or did she want to display it for the entire ship to see?

More and more, as Uma fought through her shift, she found herself dwelling on the question. It was an itch, growing and growing by measure. Now that her common sense had been dashed, the notion was all but irresistible. The ghosts of her inhibitions still held her back, warning about what people might think and what it might do to her reputation. But Uma was no longer sure she cared. She just wanted to take that plunge. To be seen. To cast aside the boredom of her life, once and for all.

How would it feel? What kind of look would she see in their eyes? Lust? Shock? Awe? Uma couldn’t wait to find out. Every time one of the crewmen glanced up at her, she was shot through with questions.

Could they see through her holographic disguise? Might it flicker out at just the wrong moment? Or could they hear something in her face? Could they read the unwholesome blush in her cheeks? Could they see the anguished, ecstatic yearning in her eyes?

Questions like that had been eating at Uma all shift. But now, they weren’t anxious. They were hopeful.

For some time, she went on like that, serving food to the Inyx’s crew with hands that trembled more and more with each passing moment. Her arousal grew and grew as the vibrator buzzed within her - but so did her disappointment, as the crewman failed to pay her the suspicion and attention she craved. Eventually, though, one of them paused to address her.

The engineer, Sai Kabir.

“Uma,” she said, stepping up to the counter. “A moment of your time? I wanted to speak with you about a few minor inefficiencies and maintenance issues relating to the galley equipment.”

A shiver of tension raced up Uma’s spine and she nodded, practically drooling as she did. “O-of course.”

She was familiar with Sai Kabir. The engineer was always cordial, if not friendly — and recently, it had been impossible not to take note of the way her chest had been bulging out from underneath her shirt. Uma couldn’t believe the mild-mannered crewman had been hiding assets like those and she couldn’t imagine what had persuaded her to start showing them off — but she had, more than once, been jealous of how the other members of the crew now stared at Kabir. And, secretly, of the blush that rose to Kabir’s cheeks when they did.

Now, though, the other woman seemed to be all business.

"As part of our routine checks, in engineering we’ve been monitoring the power draw from different sections of the ship,” Kabir told her. “And I noticed some unusual fluctuations relating to your equipment down here. My guess is that the capacitor heating coils have started to suffer ion decay as a result of the unusual radiospheric activity out here on the rim.”

Uma just nodded dumbly, hoping it would seem like she could follow the engineer’s technobabble. In truth, her long words cascaded meaninglessly over the mess officer, adding to the busy noise that filled her head.

“However,” Kabir added, “it’s also possible that it’s due to an adverse feedback loop between your equipment and the surrounding cooling sinks. If they need to draw more power to counteract the ambient heat of the galley, and that power itself produces heat as it encounters resistance in some degraded reactor channels… well, I’m sure you can see the problem.”

“The… p-problem?” Uma panted. Talking was even harder than thinking. “O- of course.”

She really couldn’t. The vibrator in her cunt occupied all of her attention, and every time she twitched, the ropes wrapped around her luscious, plump body seemed to bind even tighter.

“Although…” Kabir’s brow furrowed, and the suggestion of scrutiny made Uma’s heart race. “Perhaps it’s a much more straightforward issue.”

“Y-you think?” Uma forced out. She wanted to moan. She wanted to moan so badly. “What, um, what makes you say-“

Kabir held up a finger to stop her talking. “Can you hear that buzzing noise?”

Uma quivered as another little orgasm tore through her.

“B-b-buzzing noise?” Uma bleated. “That’s n-not… um… I can’t…”

She was grinning. She could feel it. She couldn’t stop herself.

“You can’t?” Kabir suddenly leaned forward, bending over the counter. “It’s right there. Low-pitched. It sounds close. And kind of… wet?”

As she drew closer, Uma felt like her heart was going to explode.

“N-n-no.” Out of instinct, Uma denied it. “I don’t think… I can’t h-hear a-anything! Or maybe it’s the s-s-ship just, um, you know… settling?”

Though she was trying to head the engineer off, another part of her - a larger, deeper part - was begging Sai Kabir to look closer. To notice. To see Uma for what she was: a pervert, getting off on the secret under her hologram.

“It’s not that,” Kabir said at once. “No, it has to be something small. Maybe…” Suddenly, she glanced at Uma’s face and her frown deepened. “Uma, are you alright?”

“O-of course!” Uma squeaked. It was true, in a way. She was on cloud nine. Shame, anxiety, and arousal had all melded together into a dizzying euphoria that she could not escape. It was a kind of madness. “I’m j-j-just… busy!”

As Sai Kabir peered at her, closer and closer, an idea ignited and burned within Uma’s head. What if she just took off the hologram? She could, easily. It was right there, pinned to a rope running along her collar. Then, Kabir would see. She’d know Uma for what she was.

What kind of face would she make? Uma was dying to know.

She couldn’t help but be disappointed when Kabir suddenly drew back. “Of course,” she said apologetically. “You’re working, and I’m bothering you. Forgive me. We can discuss this later when you’re not so busy. Perhaps I’ll come back and we can find whatever’s making that buzzing noise.”

“Oh,” Uma said faintly.

She glanced at the clock and at the queue in the mess hall. The crowd was already thinning out. Surprisingly, it was beginning to look like Uma was going to make it through the entire shift without anybody discovering the secret of her new uniform.

Uma couldn’t take that. She couldn’t take being boring again. And so, driven by the never-ending surge of arousal within her, she made a promise to herself.

When the next person came up for their meal, Uma was going to take off the hologram covering her up.

Sai Kabir departed, and the next member of the crew started to approach. Seconds stretched out to what felt like an eternity. During each heartbeat, Uma was tormented by the knowledge of everything she had to lose if she went through with it — and everything she had to lose if she didn’t.

In the end, it was a snap decision. Before her better judgment could prevail, Uma’s hand reached up and snatched the miniature projector away from her collar.

The veil fell. In the brief moment before Uma’s vision became nothing more than a white blur, she saw the crewman’s eyes widen in palpable awe.

Uma knew at once what the other woman was seeing: Uma’s true self. The fat, bounteously curvy woman was, all over, tied up with ropes that made an unmistakable spectacle of her body. The crimson strands made a gorgeous contrast with her pale skin, making it look all the softer, all the more inviting. Her physique’s proportions, already mouth-wateringly plush, were only further accentuated by all the places in which the shibari ties pulled taut against Uma’s body. She looked incredible. She looked like erotic art.

But that was just the beginning.

Far more striking than simply her body was the look on Uma’s face. The look of unrepentant, ravenous need in her eyes. The shameful blush in her cheeks that made the perverse fetishism of her appearance undeniable. The way her lips were parted and wet, quivering with each panted breath. It made it all so clear. This wasn’t an accident or a mistake. Not something Uma had been forced into. This was something she loved. Something she craved. Now, everybody knew.

And there was no going back.

For Uma Vilchis, that was the best part of all.

Once her vision eventually cleared, she was finally able to get a good look at the woman standing in front of her. The woman she’d exposed herself to. It was Alara Hisarlik, the ship’s counselor.

“My, my,” the counselor purred. “What is the meaning of this, mess officer?”

Uma had no answer for her. She should have been terrified. Instead, the look of vicious, predatory interest in Alara’s eyes only heightened her pleasure.

She wasn’t boring. Not anymore.

More and more of the other crew members in the mess were starting to turn their heads and gawk at Uma. Some of them whispered, or blushed, or pointed. Uma welcomed it all. If not for the toy already in her cunt, she would have been touching herself.

“I think our sweet mess officer is experiencing some kind of… incident,” Alara announced loudly, licking her lips. “She’ll come with me to my quarters. I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry, Miss Vilchis. I’m told my new hypnotherapy program can be terribly effective.”

Uma nodded mutely. She could sense the intent behind Alara’s words. Clearly, this was no longer the wholesome, friendly counselor she remembered chatting with. That was perfectly fine with Uma. She welcomed whatever depraved plans Alara had in store for her.

It was just the kind of excitement she needed.

But as the two of them exited the mess hall and made for the turbolifts, Wasp appeared once again. Uma stood at attention, ready for her uniform to be inspected, but it wasn’t her Wasp had eyes for. The hacker grabbed Alara by the shoulders and hissed manically to her co-conspirator.

“Alara!” Wasp said. “We need to talk. Something big is happening.”

“Not now.” Alara shrugged her off. “I’ve just found a new subject.”

“No time!” Wasp shot back. “You can get to her later. This is huge!”

Alara frowned. “What is it? What’s happening?”

Wasp licked her lips, and Uma could tell if the look of mania in her eyes was born from fear or glee.

“I just intercepted a transmission,” she told Alara. “An admiral is coming to inspect the Inyx.”

---

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#story #commandingweakness

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alittlewhump · 3 years ago

Text

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 2

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Content warnings: None, still pretty light here.

It wasn't long before they reached a small encampment where another woman called out to the one who had been guiding Morgan. "Fiona, I swear you're the worst scout we have. There's something following you, you know."

The rogue - Fiona - put her hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know, Akara, that this is an adventurer. He's going to combat our evil."

"And why didn't you send him to the den?"

"I just wanted your blessing, ma'am."

"More like you didn't want to go out of your way." The woman, evidently a superior of some sort, looked Morgan over with a cool gaze. "There's a monster den about half an hour's walk to the west of here. They've been giving us some trouble. If you can exterminate them, we'll talk."

Talking was very low on the list of things Morgan wanted to do. But eliminating a nest of evil creatures - that was a good task, easily defined with no messy human contact. And, of course, it would also contribute in a small way toward restoring the Balance, to fulfilling the request that had sent him out here in the first place. Surely it was more than just one den causing problems, but they likely wanted to test his ability. He nodded to show he'd understood, then turned to go. The two women continued to talk as he left.

"Is he mute, or what?"

"Nah, he talks. But listen, you'll never believe this -"

He stopped listening. There were more important things to think about, like whether or not it would be worth the effort to concentrate on making clay golems instead of using skeletons. He debated as he walked, keeping an ear out for sounds of danger. Skeletons were plentiful in these parts, he'd discovered. So that was convenient. He paused to raise two out of a boggy patch of ground. Two was a good number, enough to draw enemy attention away without draining his energy too much. He could only manage one earth golem at a time, but if other risen skeletons were attacking the Sisterhood... yes, the extra effort was probably worth it to ease future interactions. He could always reserve the skeletons for use away from the encampment, lay them back down into the earth outside their view.

Morgan stopped, crouching down to touch the ground. He sent out a tendril of magical energy, spreading it thin to form a humanoid shape. The earth lifted, obedient but slow, a form rising up ponderously. It took almost a minute to fully form, and Morgan was breathing hard by the end of it. It was a small golem, only a little taller than him but considerably sturdier. It would do for now. He was admittedly a little out of practice, but he resolved to keep working at it. Later, after this den was taken care of.

It was early the next morning by the time Morgan returned to the rogue encampment. The nest of imp demons had presented a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. He'd had to rest afterwards, taking a few hours to meditate. It wasn't quite sleeping, but it was close enough. He'd also remembered to put his skeletons back into the ground outside the view of the little town. A clay golem plodded along by his side; he was just more comfortable with at least one construct to protect him.

A familiar voice raised a call as he approached the town gate. "Hey, ghoul boy's back!" The encroaching forces of darkness must have taken a toll on their numbers, Morgan surmised. Why else would a scout have two watch shifts so close to one another? The sooner he could get to the root of the problem, the better - for all of them.

The gate rolled open and a new woman approached. Judging by her more impressive-looking armour, Morgan guessed her to be some sort of commander. When she spoke, she certainly had the tone of a leader.

"I didn't think we'd see you back here, outlander. Did you clear the den of monsters?"

"They were demons, not monsters." He hung back by the gates, reluctant to enter without an explicit invitation.

"Demons. Monsters. I don't care what they are other than dead. Are they dead?"

"Yes."

"Good. Welcome to the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye - what's left of it, anyway. Fiona says you're here to cleanse the evil from this place. She also says you came out of the woods alongside some skeletons, so I'm not sure what to believe. Tell me about yourself, stranger."

A few more women clad in light armour had appeared, hanging back behind their leader. Not so different from the imps he'd just finished with, Morgan thought - skittish, wary. He decided to keep that comparison to himself. No sense in actively antagonizing them. They were already poised to dislike him based on his school of magic, based on his experience so far. It was possible that whoever had sent the request to his Order had done so in secret. It was also possible that they had passed on already, given the sorry state of things. He tried to skirt the issue delicately.

"I am a follower of Rathma. We are charged with maintaining the Balance between light and darkness. We received word of a source of evil nearby that threatens to disrupt that Balance. I seek to destroy it. If you can direct me-"

"The priests of Rathma are necromancers, are they not?" This was the woman from before, Akara. He hadn't noticed her standing behind the rest of them. He recognized the disdain in her face, her voice. He'd been hoping to avoid this type of interaction, but he'd never been able to figure out a good way to dodge the question without lying outright. And while he could technically lie - there wasn't anything physically or magically preventing it - he had never developed the barest shred of skill in the art of deceit, and it was impossibly difficult to guess what people would or wouldn't believe in any given situation. In cases where the truth would be unwelcome, the best option was usually to try to deflect.

"I don't intend to do you any harm," he tried.

"Answer the question, then. Yes or no."

Well, it had been worth trying. It seemed like Akara knew the answer anyway, and just wanted to hear it from him, for some reason.

"Yes."

Most of the women took a horrified step back, grimacing in disgust or fear. He didn't let it bother him on a personal level - it was easiest to work from the assumption that everyone would have these sorts of feelings toward him, based on either his appearance or his affiliation - but it rarely bade well for situations like this in which he needed information. The commander didn't flinch, which was heartening. She turned to face Akara.

"We can't afford to be choosy right now, Priestess. Whatever his methods, this is the best chance we've had in a while. I'm not going to waste it." She turned back to Morgan. "You'd do best to start by finding Deckard Cain. Word is, he knows just about everything there is to know. If he still lives, he should be able to tell you more about the evil that blights our land here."

He listened carefully as she described this scholar and his last known whereabouts. It was a good plan, to gather as much information as possible before properly facing down whatever evil had rooted there. It would likely take a few days to reach Tristram, which would give him time to work on his golems. He was pleased with these developments until the commander turned to address the women huddled behind her.

"Blaise, you'll go with him."

What? No, this wouldn't do at all. Other people just complicated things. What Morgan needed was the simplicity of solitude with his golems. He raised his hands in protest. "Madam, I really don't-"

"What the fuck, Kashya?" That was presumably Blaise, voicing a much louder objection. "Are you still mad about that thing last week? I said I was sorry, I don't deserve-"

"That wasn't a request," Kashya said calmly. "I think you're the best one for the job, and I won't hear any arguments. Now get your things together for the journey." The assembled rogues huddled in a group, chattering quietly amongst themselves as Blaise turned on her heel and stalked away. Morgan took a few steps toward their commander.

"Please, madam Kashya, I ask you to reconsider-"

"When I said no arguments, I meant it. Two heads are better than one. Now you can wait outside; you're making my girls nervous."

Morgan waited outside. It was clear that the matter was not open for discussion. He guessed that pushing it further would only serve to alienate the single person who seemed at all willing to work with him. One was better than none, so he would try to stay on her good side.

#my writing #story: unbidden

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Radio Host & Radio Ghost - Nov 14

Alastor meets a ghost possessing a vintage radio.

He’s absolutely delighted.

Valera

Valera hums, rubbing their hands together. What a lovely day to bring demons into their home. Not a single consequence could possibly result from this! With Alastor's okay, they could finally get around to opening a portal for him, whatever water he'd decided was sufficient rippling and turning into an inky void before his eyes. On her side, Valera plops back on the couch and awaits his arrival.

Alastor

And Alastor’s more than ready to jump through the inky void he’s been promised is a portal!

He has not, however, been informed that the portal he just jumped DOWN into is VERTICAL on the other side.

He lands on his back with a blurt of confused mixed frequency crosstalk. What.

Valera

A laugh track plays from across the room, and Valera leans forward to get a good eyeful of the poor, confused fellow. "My dear, if I'd known you were falling all over yourself to get here, I'd have invited you much sooner! Come now, pick up those sorry spirits and have some spirits with me." Funny way to talk about spiked tea, but alright Val.

Alastor

Disoriented by the 90° shift in the angle of gravity, he blinks up at the ceiling for a moment. “What, was the repeated pleading to come see it not obvious enough?”

As his head sorts itself out he abruptly registers the laugh track—SOMEBODY ELSE’S laugh track—and he immediately sits up and looks toward the source of the sound. “Well!!” He’s on his feet in a flash and crossing the room, heading like an arrow toward the authentic, vintage, genuine, incomparable 1931 Philco 90 Baby Grand Cathedral Radio. “Oh my goodness, what a beauty! Look at this! Oh, this is the only cathedral I’ll ever worship at.” He kneels down to get a better look at the front of it. “The wood needs a little love and care—walnut, isn’t it? I don’t know wood but I know my radios, I could swear Philco used walnut—but it’s in fantastic condition!” He presses the side of his head to the front, eyes closed like he’s trying to listen to it. “All nine tubes sound beautiful, just beautiful!” Apparently that’s something you can hear, at least if you’re Alastor.

He sits back and turns to the man sitting next to the radio, beaming. “Listen to me, gushing away without even—Hello! May I compliment you on your lovely home, sir!”

Valera

Whatever Valera was planning to say is forgotten immediately, Alastor's enthusiastic response to her latest acquisition more than entertaining enough to distract her from her train of thought.

The radio flicks on and off like its fluttering its lashes, dial twirling playfully in a reflection of the Ghost Of The Hour's own beaming grin. A waggle of his fingers, and he speaks, voice emanating from the radio and rather garbled as the dial flicks back and forth.

"Compliment taken and appreciated, you beautiful stranger! Aren't *you* all the candy and then some? Lovely to meet a man who knows his stuff, you're right on all counts! Walnut, hand rubbed finish, this is a genuine type two article straight from the production line of late 1931! Updated with AVC and the beautiful addition of type 47 power pentode tubes for the finest and most reasonably priced audio on the market!" A pause to "breathe" as the radio's light flickers, and he shrugs, still beaming. "I'd offer to shake your hand, my good man, but I find I left my tangibility back home. Though I'm happy to try!"

Alastor

His invisible studio audience oohs and aahs appreciatively at each new technical detail. “Reasonably priced, oh, boy—I’d barely paid off a ‘32 when I died! Eighty bucks, if I remember right! Well with the price but good golly if I wouldn’t have loved to enjoy it a little longer.”

He gets to his feet, leaving one hand lingering on top of the radio affectionately. “Oh, I’d give it a shot! Typically, the dead can touch the dead.” He offers his hand. “The name’s Alastor! I’m a radio man myself—on air from ‘24 to ‘33, you might have heard me if you were in range of New Orleans! And what do I call you, my friend?”

Valera

"Oh! A fellow dearly departed? And so close to my own time, give or take a few years! I'd offer my condolences on your departure from the mortal realm, but it seems to me that you're doing rather well for yourself! PLEASURE to meet you, Alastor!" He takes the offered hand in his own, grinning even wider when he realizes he can actually touch the red newcomer. He's got a handshake like he's going to sell you something, firm and eager. "New Orleans, you say? KTRD? Well I never! I do believe I played your station in my old shop! Your broadcast helped me sell quite a few radios back in the day."

A delighted chuckle, and he gives Alastor's hand a last squeeze before dropping it to mess with his suit lapels. "My friends called me Al, but my name is Alexander! I had some other names too I'm sure, but they haven't found their way back yet."

Alastor

He shakes back just as eagerly and his grin stretches wider. “Yessiree, that was me! *Your Pal Al, first voice you hear in the morning and last voice you hear at night!* Why, if I’d known that I was doing free advertising for Philco, I would have written them a letter and asked them to give me a Baby Grand on the house. Still, probably the best eighty bucks I ever spent.”

He takes a step back, giving Alexander a bit of his own space. “I’d catch you up on what you missed, but I’d probably only be able to offer you a couple of years—were you ‘31, or did that just happen to be the model you had nearby when you shuffled off the mortal coil?—and I’ve spent my time since then down in Hell—hope that’s not too off-putting, you know how it is, make a few little mistakes and forget to say your Hail Marys before you kick the bucket and suddenly you find you’re serving an afterlife sentence without possibility of parole! I expect you’ve had a better chance to keep up with the news than I have!”

Valera

"I'd have sent you one myself if I hadn't bought the farm! But your business was appreciated, I'm sure. A radio broadcaster with your chops has quite the eye for quality if I do say so myself, your radio was in the best hands possible!"

"This beauty was a gift from my parents, got it new and died within the month, if memory serves! Damn shame, but it all worked out. I'm sure my mothers would be charmed that I was so attached!"

He waves off the news of Alastor's new home with a scoff. "Oh, pah to that! I was never much for religion before I bit the dust, God always struck me as a terrible sort of man. If you wound up in Hell, it's probably for the better! I'd hate being in close quarters with the kind of parent who thinks tossing his children into fire and brimstone was the best teaching method!"

Alastor

A studio audience laugh at “attached”; attached in more senses than one, apparently. “They must have been women with exquisite taste! Quite a pity about the timing, but at least you’ve had plenty of time to enjoy it! Amazing how well it’s held up, can’t tell you the last time I saw quality like this. Of course,” he arches his eyebrows, “that might just be a side-effect of the neighborhood I’ve been living in, eh? Lucky you latched onto this beauty—otherwise you probably would have ended up living there too, considering your personal leanings. Fair enough if you don’t want to move into that big gated community in the sky, but I wouldn’t recommend the alternative, either.”

He glances over at Valera—wow, look at that, he actually does remember that they’re in the same room. “Speaking of which...” He nods at the spot of the portal he so gracelessly stepped out of earlier. “You probably don’t want to take this with you the next time you spend the night at your fiancé’s. I’ve never heard of a ghost voluntarily walking into Hell so I’m not sure if they’d immediately notice, but I do know that imps conducting business topside are charged with keeping an eye out for rogue spirits that ought to be down below. You take him in, they might not let him back out.”

Valera

Alexander rolls back on his heels, happy to peek around Alastor and back at Valera. Ah, his unexpected rescuer who he's trying very hard not to be wildly rude to by screaming at over the existence of actual aliens! Thumbs up!

As for Valera, she looks at Alastor with raised eyebrows. "Good to know! I hadn't made any plans yet, but it would be a damn shame to get this fellow stuck in a new prison so soon after getting him out of the previous one." A sip at her cup, and she curls her tail politely around her legs. "Either way, I brought you here to help with repairs! Bring your friend over here and lets start getting the cobwebs out of his home, hm?"

Alastor

“Why, of course! Pardon me—“ And up it goes. As he carries the radio over to Valera he’s cradling it half like it’s a heavy sack of groceries and half like it’s a baby. “I didn’t have an opportunity to look around the back, what all needs doing?”

Valera

Valera opens her mouth, and is immediately cut off as Alexander practically flings himself forward to 'sit' on the floor next to the cleaning supplies. "There's almost no damage to the internals, lucky for us! My lovely little number's managed to hold up beautifully despite the.. Unideal conditions. This sweet faced dame here scraped off most of the wax from my previous landlord's attempt at what I assume was an exorcism, but a gentle wash wouldn't hurt! Aside from that, it's largely dusting and polishing! Mindless, really."

He chuckles, the dial on the radio tapping back and forth like a metronome. "Though the lady here took one look at the bottom of the chassis and said she'd rather call an expert, poor thing. From what I saw, it's just a bit of rust and dirty wires, nothing even a child couldn't handle! I'm sure a man like yourself wont even break a sweat!"

Alastor

“So I see.” He leans forward, arching an eyebrow as he inspects the remaining wax. “What kind of ‘unideal conditions’ are we talking about, here? And how *did* this end up here?” He directs that question to Valera. “Of all the places I’d expect to find a ‘31 Philco, you have to go pretty far down on the list before I start listing locations off of planet Earth. And even at that ‘the moon’ and ‘Mars’ would have been my next guesses.” SPEAKING OF WHICH, he leans toward Alexander and gives him an excited look. “Did you know we put ROBOTS on MARS?”

Okay, exciting news shared, back to business. He carefully inspects the bottom of the chassis himself—nothing too bad down there. “I’m as good an expert as you’ll need! I’ve lovingly cleaned off enough fine old radios in my time—although I’m hard-pressed to think of one as fine as THIS!” He looks over the selection of cleaning tools.

Valera

Valera's attempts to speak are once again completely drowned out by Alexander's crackly voice. "Oh she got me on Earth, rest assured! I was in one of my.. grand nephew's attics, I believe? And yes, I DID hear about the robots on Mars! I had nothing to do but listen to the radio while I was up there, and as much as they like to pretend they've murdered the art of broadcasting, there certainly are still plenty of stations out there sharing the news! Nothing compared to your own, of course, but still." A dip of his head towards Alastor, and he scoots closer to watch him work.

The standard tools are available. Wood cleaner, a few soft rags, a small steel wool brush, and rust removing solvents, along with a little pack of cloths for polishing brass. Val side eyes Alexander and deliberately doesn't speak as she picks up a rag to offer to Alastor.

Alastor

He's starting to detect a pattern here. "Say, my phantasmal friend!" He leans over and slings an arm around Alexander's shoulders. "I realize you haven't had much experience with conversation in a while—but let's let our friend Valera get a couple of words in edgewise from time to time, shall we?" He winks, then returns to studying the radio, this time inspecting the innards. He takes the rag and starts brushing out the worst of the dust, just a rough pass to get out the easy stuff. "Ah, of course you would have heard! Naturally. What kind of a state is radio broadcasting in these days, anyway? I've heard some dismal things."

Valera

There's a flash of confusion on Alexander's face as he looks between Alastor and Valera, but he nods without any protest, obligingly leaning in until Alastor releases him from the casual half embrace. "Of course! Terribly rude of me, I'll curb the enthusiasm. My manners could use as much dusting as my radio, it seems!" A light chuckle, and he props his chin on his hands, watching Alastor's movements intently.

"Miserable! It's atrocious the kind of programming they think passes standard these days. Once they broke the stations into specialties, the bar dropped straight past hell! Why, if you have a grave, Alastor, I'm sure you were rolling in it. Half the contents is advertisements, and the other half replays the same songs every few hours with no shame!" He heaves a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. Valera rolls her eyes.

Alastor

“Oh, Hell hasn’t fared much better, I’m afraid—although I’ve helped keep things interesting on the AM band, at least!” A weary sigh. “And to think in the twenties we were butting heads against the regulations that discouraged specialization. Who would have thought the alternative would make so many stations so bland?” His tone darkens. “Although I blame the networks more than anything else, truth be told.”

He’s got a bone to pick with networks.

Valera

Valera finally has a chance to speak? Good. "Well, I'm glad you two have so much to talk about! I'd say you should exchange numbers or find a way to talk in DMs, but I haven't had a chance to try and explain texting or tumblr blogs to Alexander yet." And she is NOT looking forward to it!

"Though, Alastor, if you'll indulge my hypotheticals while we tidy this fellow up. What do you think would be the best way to deal with his current state? I've thought about asking Pentious to make him some kind of automaton frame around his radio, or find a way to separate him from the radio entirely and... Force him to manifest some form of body."

Alexander shrugs, flipping a dismissive hand. "I've got no knowledge of the supernatural, and barely any on the normal natural either, so this is all Greek to me!"

Alastor

“I wonder if it would be possible to get a radio signal through to Hell! I’ve never picked up a radio broadcast from the living world before, but as far as I know none have been sent out by the dead. At any rate, if Internet can get between here and Hell, radio should be able to just as easily—it’s all the exact same stuff, just traveling through the air on different frequencies.”

Alastor considers the issue of Alexander’s body for a moment, glancing over at him. There’s a brief quiet humming noise like microphone feedback from the radio’s speakers as Alastor stretches out with his own energy field, prodding around Alexander’s, measuring it.

Then he snaps it back in and continues working. “Automatons are all well and good, but if you want to know how I’D do it—the easiest thing would be to get him trained up as a poltergeist! There’s three parts he’d have to learn: drawing more energy from his environment than he’s currently getting through passive processes; focusing it so he can telekinetically affect his environment; and finally, focusing it to visually and physically manifest a form for other people to see and touch. It’s essentially what I’m doing any time I step out of Hell, although I’m cheating: coming straight from Hell means I’m carrying enough Hellish energy with me that I don’t need to gather or focus any more, I’m fully solid from the outset. But it’s a skill that can be learned!”

He beams at Alexander. “You’re lucky you’ve got a focus for your energy, here! I’d hazard a guess that all this time you’ve been using what ambient energy you’ve picked up to help power it—but I bet it wouldn’t be too hard for you to use IT to help power YOU!”

This is all too exciting. The study of the interactions between spirits and electricity had only been going a few decades when Alastor died, and the topic is obviously irrelevant in Hell; what he’s proposing was supposedly possible even in his own time, but he can’t imagine what information might be available today.

Valera

Alexander twitches as Alastor's field brushes against his. It's an almost ticklish sensation, like almost but not quite touching something charged with static electricity. The moment passes, and he rubs at his arms. Could ghosts get goosebumps? It sure seemed so! Weird! Everyone he's met has been so strange and colorful, he'd hardly even thought about his own appearance. Immediately distracted, he starts looking for a mirror to check his hair in.

"Hm, I don't have any experience with poltergeists.." Valera's at a bit of a loss, narrowing her eyes as she squints at the two radios. Three radios? Does Alexander count as a separate entity from the radio? Gods, she should have taken the Mortals and Their Souls elective in school. She heaves a sigh. "Well! I hope you're willing to help teach him, Alastor, because otherwise I'm going to have to start doing _research_."

Alastor

“You and me both! Ha! Most of what I learned about poltergeists in life was how to get rid of them, imagine that. But! You know where ghosts end up once they’re got rid of! I’ll inquire around, see if there are any ex-poltergeists interested in sharing their tricks of the trade. If not, I’m sure the imps will know all about it.”

He beams at Alexander. “Oh, this is going to be fun. I haven’t had a reason to dip this deep into the occult since the sixties!”

Valera

"Oh that's marvelous. Thank the gods, the less I have to try and muddle through human focused occultism the better, it gets damnably frustrating trying to find books that aren't full of teenage angst and garbage." She sighs, taking her tea in hand and busying herself with draining the glass. That's ONE problem out of the way.

Alexander glances over, feeling eyes on him again, and offers Alastor his sunniest grin. He wasn't really following the conversation, but that doesn't matter when there's an obvious opening. "Don't leave us hanging, my good man! What happened in the sixties? Inquiring minds, and spirits, want to know!"

Alastor

“The first step is to get book recommendations from actual occultists.” Where is Valera picking up teenage angst?

Oh, Alastor is going to love this new guy, he follows up on the topics that Alastor leaves dangling. “A deep dive into angelology! Researching what sort of defenses Heaven has aside from being ridiculously high in the air—this was before rockets, you see, so we couldn’t just fly up and check—and trying to deduce any of the angels’ vulnerabilities.”

Valera

"Fair enough, I assume you knew a fair few back in your day?" Meet enough overly young heroes and some of them are going to write about their experiences while unfortunately being teens. Combination diary and field guides are the _worst._

Alexander BEAMS as Alastor speaks, the light on his radio dial glowing like a little beacon. "Fascinating stuff there, Alastor! I never even knew that was a field of research, shows what I know! Did you learn anything useful in your forays?" A pause. Wait. " You have rockets in Hell?"

Alastor

“A decent amount! I had a healthy circle of pen pals. None of them quite as successful as me, if I do say so myself—but that had less to do with their occult knowledge and more to do with their heads for business. All the symbols, herbs, and precious metals in the world won’t do you a lick of good if you don’t know how to make a deal with a demon.”

He’s gotten the inside about as clean as he feels safe to while the radio is still clearly *on*—there’s probably no way to fully turn it off as long as Alexander is connected to it, is there?—and starts on the outside. “In the living world, it probably isn’t one! Angelology in general, sure, but penetrating the gates of Heaven? Maybe in an ��astral projection’ way, but certainly not a ‘breaking and entering’ way! I can’t say I picked up much of practical use, but...” He falters a moment before rallying. “The project I was researching it for fell through, so I abandoned it early with several research avenues unexplored.” Shrug.

For a moment he’s tempted to let Alexander think they DO have rockets. But then he bursts out laughing. “No, no, hah! I only meant that humanity in general has rockets, don’t we—and enough people with the know-how to make ‘em are in Hell by now. We *could* have rockets if we decided to. But we don’t have our act together enough for that—put together a list of everyone who could make it happen, and even the person at the very top of the list has priorities pointed very firmly elsewhere. Anyway, where would we go with them?”

Valera

"You can say that again. Though of course, my experience is decidedly _not_ from the mortal's side." A hum, and Valera leans in to take a peek at Alastor's work. "I knew you were the person for the job, that little darling is looking almost as good as new." A grin for his efforts, that's more than payment enough. That and getting to work on such a nice radio. Probably.

Alexander snickers, pressing a hand to his chest in mock dismay. "My goodness, you really had me going for a moment there, Alastor! I suppose there wouldn't really be anywhere to go, you're right! Though that does beg the question. How *does* Hell compare to all the biblical stories? I can't imagine it being all fire and brimstone if you're as well dressed and decidedly not prodded by pitchforks as you appear to be!"

Lowering her empty cup to the table, Valera flicks her eyes over to watch as Alexander quickly turns to try and pick up the teapot to offer a refill. Bless his dead little heart, he gave it a good shot even if all he managed was a slight rattling.

Alastor

Getting to work on such a nice radio is *absolutely* its own reward. “A professional could do something about the scuffs. And you definitely want somebody else to do something else about the last of the wax.” He rubs a thumb over the last little bumps stubbornly stuck on the wood. “I don’t think I can get the remains off without scuffing the wood.”

He tries to think back to what he was taught Hell was like before he saw the real thing. What had his first impressions been like? “Picture Dante’s Inferno. So you’ve got your rivers bile, your fields of icy mud, your endless hurricanes—but then dump a bunch of humans in it and assume they’re going to do what humans always do. We build cities and civilizations in scorching deserts, frozen tundras, and smothering jungles—and we do just the same in Hell. Sure enough, fire and brimstone is Hell’s natural, untrammeled state—but we’ve been trammeling all over the place for thousands of years by now! The native demons and fallen angels in charge are largely content to ease up on the pitchforks as long as our labors improve their standard of living, too.”

Alastor watches Alexander attempting to manipulate the teapot, then puts his hand on top of the radio and focuses on channeling as much of his own energy into the cathedral case as he can. “Try again now.”

Valera

Alastor

Valera

"Fixing the wood? Not a problem. I just didn't trust anyone else with the internals!" She shrugs, seemingly content to lay back and idly listen as he explains the inevitable human nature of settling even the inhospitable lands of Hell. But the moment Alastor's powers are channeled, Valera stiffens, head swiveling to stare at where his hand at the radio meet as her fins flare out.

Alexander looks between Valera and Alastor, then down to his radio. You know what that reaction sounds like? None of his business! He nods, then carefully, carefully, picks up the teapot and pours a single cup of tea out with a look of utmost concentration. Once the teapot is safely back on the table and the cup is delivered into Valera's hands, and ONLY then, he shuffles back a few feet, looks around to make sure there's nothing breakable near him, and finally throws his arms in the air with a cheer. "Alastor! Whatever you did got me back on the trolley!"

Alastor

The motion catches Alastor's attention and he meets her gaze. Oh, hello? What's all *that* about?

But he doesn't get a chance to ask before Alexander is celebrating his triumph. Alastor switches his attention back to him, beaming. "Back on for the time being—although I'm afraid this trolley company makes you pay by the block and I essentially gave you one nickel. Still, it's proof of concept! You're powering your radio—and your radio can power you. This expands our options immensely!"

Valera

Scoffing while grinning ear to ear isn't something you see often, but Alexander is quick to wave off even minor pessimism with the cheeriest dismissal. "Bah, who cares about that! That's more interaction with my environment than I've managed since I died, I'll take this nickel as far as they'll let me." He pushes the teapot to the left, then the right, and then picks it up once more for good measure before moving to start carefully prodding at Valera, who tolerates it with the face of the family dog tolerating bratty kids yanking their fur.

Alastor

“I suppose five blocks is exciting if it’s the first time you’ve been allowed on the trolley,” he says dryly; then, while Alexander is distracted, he gives Valera an inquiring look. He’s not going to ask Valera about their reaction to his magic while Alexander is around, but he wants them to know he *noticed* and he’s *going* to as soon as he has a chance.

Valera

Valera looks at Alastor, giving him the most innocent stare they can manage with those big ole eyes... And then snorts, shakes their head, and gives a thumbs up. Yeah, yeah. Quiz them later, radio deerman.

Looking back to Alexander and his prodding hands, Valera finally hauls herself up to cheerfully clap her hands together. "Well! This has been lovely, but I think that's enough excitement for the day. We've both got new projects to get to, and the sooner we sort this fellow out the better!"

Alastor

“I think you’re right! Happy I could offer my assistance.” He offers a hand to Alexander. “And a pleasure to meet you, my good sir!”

Valera

Alexander pauses in his prodding to take Alastor's hand in both of his, giving it a firm shake. "I hope I'll see you again, Alastor! Even if we can't figure out how to help me, meeting a fellow radio enthusiast of your caliber is more than worth being stuck in an attic for so long!"

Alastor

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way!” And a firm shake back. “And even if not, I’ll be visiting from time to time anyway, never you fear.”

Valera

Val would ask if that was a threat or a promise, but she isn't really sure she wants to know. A portal is prepared in short order, one wall of the sitting room turning a familiar inky black as she rises from the couch. She does, however, make a point to look Alastor dead in the eyes as she speaks her goodbye. "I'll see you in Hell, Alastor."

Alastor

It’s only a threat if Valera finds his presence threatening.

“Imminently, or eventually?” He *does* still want to find out what that Look was about.

Valera

She grins, ignoring Alexander as he quietly oohs and aahs over the portal. "Eventually! I'll be there tonight or tomorrow, depending on wherever Penny decides to sleep, but who knows when you'll actually _see_ me there."

Alastor

“Well, track me down to talk when you can.” An unnecessarily dramatic half-bow and he steps through the portal.

Carefully. He doesn’t know what angle he’s going to emerge at.

#chat log #autokrates

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fangirlauthor · 4 years ago

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A Rip in Time Chapter Three

Here’s chapter three! I got tired of writing (future) Matt every time he did something so pre-kerberos Matt is not included in this chapter. Link to post with link to the work on ao3 is in my pinned post/master post.

Matt Holt knew they didn’t believe him. Not all of them, not on everything. Honestly, he couldn’t blame them - it’s all a little crazy, even to him. He wouldn’t have believed himself if he had been himself before he’d been kidnapped and eventually traveled back in time. All of which brings him to the other problem - his head is killing him. He’s not sure if there’s some sort of time-sickness occurring, or if it’s all this thinking about himself in several different time periods, or what, but he’s in dire need of an ibuprofen, and it doesn’t seem like anyone has one to spare.

Preparations began properly… yesterday? He’s pretty sure it was yesterday. Like he said, his head is having trouble, what with the...time difference and all. Anyway, preparations began recently, but things are going slowly. The people who don’t believe him, even though they’re keeping quiet, are causing trouble - if people aren’t willing to help, they’re not going to, and they’ll certainly try to get others to not help either.

“So far, we’ve put everyone on high alert, armed them with knives and the knowledge that guns won’t save them, set up patrols, and had the pilots be ready to fly, also with the knowledge that the onboard weapons won’t save them, sir.”

“All right,” said Iverson, turning away from the lower-ranking officer reporting to him to look at Matt. “What else can we do?”

Matt shook his head. “Not much. We don’t have the time - or the resources - to build weapons capable of breaching Galra defenses. Basically, just get everyone ready to fight.”

Iverson’s eyes narrowed, his face scrunching as he scrutinized Matt. “We’ve already done that. What can we do that we haven’t already done?”

“Nothing I can think of.” Matt turned around, body facing the fence they were standing by, and looked up at the clear sky. “Actually,” he said as Iverson was preparing to walk away angrily. “We can hope and pray that Voltron shows up in time. Otherwise, we won’t last long.”

Iverson sighed. Two days ago was supposed to have been the launch marking the pinnacle of human achievement - having a future version of one of the crew members show up and inform them that they weren’t as ahead as they thought they were was disarming, to say the least.

Matt turned back to the sky and said, “Commander?”

“Yes, Holt?”

Matt grinned like an imp. “Shiro found it dis-arming as well.”

“Wait, you said that like it was a pun. Why did you say that like it was a pun?” Matt turned around to see Shiro, with a full head of dark hair and no scar walking up, Adam walking next to him. This didn’t quite fit the events Matt remembered - he was certain Adam had broken up with Shiro. Huh. Maybe the extra time given to them after he appeared was helping them heal their relationship - helping them understand each other and each other’s reasons for doing certain things better.

Matt glanced at the three people staring at him expectantly and nearly peed a little. This was not going to be fun to explain.

Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to. Unfortunately for him and literally everyone else, it was because the Galra had arrived.

----

“Sir, your orders?” Shiro and Adam had headed off to who knows where the minute the ships appeared in the sky and had been replaced by a random lady in a gray uniform.

Iverson was too busy gaping at the fleet of Galra - he assumed they were Galra, anyway; he’d never seen any before - cruisers that had just appeared out of nowhere to respond, so Matt said, “Tell the pilots to get ready, and make sure everyone can see what’s going on.”

The lady blinked. “You want me to livestream an alien invasion?”

Matt nodded excessively. “Yes, that. And make sure not to fire on them, that won’t do anything besides make them angry.”

The lady glanced at Commander Iverson, nodded, turned on her heel, and headed inside the building - presumably to set up a live stream.

Iverson was still staring at the cruisers when he waved to unseen people. Matt started to walk up next to him when two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind. “What-” Matt paused, then started again, “I’m sorry, watt is going on?

“Look, kid.” Iverson finally turned around. “It’s nothing personal, but you’re under arrest for hindering government activities and interfering illegally on private property. You’ve convinced the entire Galaxy Garrison that there’s some mechanical hope for them to survive this, and you haven’t given them any way to defend themselves.”

“But- there isn’t one! There was only the time and the resources to do what we already have, and like I said, if you fire on them, you’re going to provoke them.”

Iverson shook his head. “We’ve got this from here.” He jerked his head at one of the people holding him back. “Take him to a cell. And make sure to put a screen displaying the livestream in his line of sight. Wouldn’t want anyone to be clued out.”

Matt let the guards drag him several feet towards the building before he decided to remind everyone that he’s not as weak as he was when he left for Kerberos. He jabbed his elbow into one guard’s solar plexus and kneed the other in the crotch, instinctively wincing in sympathy.

“Wha-” The next guard didn’t even have time to get a single word out before Matt knocked him down too.

“Oh, man,” Matt panted. “This is a lot harder in Earth gravity.” Unfolding from his crouched position, Matt sprinted over to the main building of the Garrison Complex where a crowd of people had gathered; his original plan had been to talk to Iverson and get him to see reason, but he was nowhere to be found - besides, something about the last time Matt had seen Iverson was bugging him, but he wasn’t sure what. Not yet, anyway.

“Everyone, get down!” he yelled, still heading for the crowd as a small Galra fighter plane opened fire. Not many people listened to him, but there were approximately two good reasons for that.

1. People were too busy running from the Galra fighter plane (wings not included, apparently) that was heading straight for the crowd.

2. Apparently a crashing jet makes a lot of noise on the way down.

It didn’t matter anyway; most people didn’t need to be told to get out of the way. Unfortunately, some did - Commander Iverson included. For whatever reason, he was standing directly in the falling ship’s path as dozens of other people ran away.

On the other hand, Matt Holt wasn’t exactly running away either. Iverson - annoying as he was - wasn’t about to die if there was something he could do about it. So he gave a final burst of concentrated effort, tripped, fell onto Iverson, knocked him down, and proceeded to roll away - dragging Iverson with him - like a five year-old on a grass hill in the summer.

They didn’t get very far. Rolling on flat concrete when one person is dead weight - for whatever reason - isn’t easy. And the plane is still coming, falling faster as gravity continues to pull.

It’s close enough to read the identification number on the side, now, and Iverson still isn’t moving. There’s nowhere for Matt to go - he wouldn’t be able to outrun the ship at this point - and Matt isn’t leaving Iverson behind.

He closes his eyes, unable to watch the ship continue to fall - not much farther now - and he lies there, on cold cement with an unmoving but still breathing Iverson next to him.

He’s still lying there when the sound of scraping metal and a small explosion sound.

And he’s still lying there two minutes later, when people have started to gather nearby to gawk.

And he’s still there three minutes after that, when he realized he isn’t dead.

And when he opened his eyes, he smiled; he knows what all the people are gawking at.

Landed on a large open space on Garrison property, the remains of a Galra fighter in its paws, was a giant green lion.

And inside was his sister.

#voltron #vld #Voltron legendary defender #matt holt #matt #iverson #commander iverson #pre-kerberos shiro #pre-kerberos adam #pre-kerberos #voltron time travel au #sorry to people following me for lok stuff I promise I'm writing for lok still #green lion #katie holt #pidge holt #pidge #katie

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hellyeahheroes · 5 years ago

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Building Jakeem Johnny Williams in D&D 5e

I finished something that took me waay to long this week, the X-Men stuff makes me mad and I need to put it out of my head for a moment or I spend whole night ranting about fascist narratives in that title, I wanted to do at least one or two builds in this series in Black History Month, this idea was on my head for at least a month and this character just make a comeback in Teen Titans so this may be the best chance to drop a build for a character not as well-known as some and get noticed. This is a lot of reasons to say that....we’re building Jakeem Thunder today.

The goals for this build are pretty simple - we have to get Yz or Ylzk or just Thunderbolt as he is called. It shouldn’t be so hard, after all he is just an....interdimensional seemingly all-powerful being who can warp reality to his will. Okay, so that may be a bit hard. We’ll see what we can do.

Ability Scores: Just like Tulok the Barbarian I will be using standard Point Array - 15, 14, 13, 12, 10 and 8. If you or your DM would rather you roll or use point-buy or different array, go ahead and use these as guidelines, keep in mind you need at least 13 in Charisma, Dexterity and Wisdom

Strength: 8, Yz is doing all the heavy lifting

Dexterity: 13, you are quick to act, sometimes maybe a bit too quick

Constitution: 12, you go into battles against supervillains without any armor and survive.

Intelligence: 10, human average - you’re not stupid but you’re not the brains of most superhero teams either.

Wisdom: 14, you pretty much had to fend for yourself at a young age.

Charisma: 15, you’re a pretty likable guy despite your foul-mounted attitude.

Race, which D&D should rename to species long time ago - Jakeem is a human so we’ll go with Variant Human again. You get +1 to two Ability scores, pick Charisma and Wisdom. You get one skill, choose Persuasion and one feat of your choice. After some pondering, I decided to settle on Resilient, which can grant you +1 to Constitution and proficiency with a Constitution Saving Throw.

Alternatives: If you don’t want to play a boring old human then Half-Elf with its +2 Charisma and +1 to two other Ability scores (read: Constitution and Wisdom) or Protector Aasimar will do just fine. If you want to go full extra, Eberron’s Kalashtar is also an option.

Background: Yes, we’re doing an Urchin again. Jakeem’s mother died when he was a child, his father never knew he was even born and Jakeem himself is considered a latchkey kid. Don’t look at me, I’m not the guy who makes so many superheroes orphans. Urchin gives you proficiency with Sleight of Hand, Stealth, Disguise Kit and Thieve’s Tools. City Secrets class feature grants you an ability to half your travel time while within a city for you and your companions.

Class: Okay, so which class can give us access to a genie? Maybe the one that got a new variant that is literally about giving you access to a genie in January?

1st Level Warlock starts with proficiency in Charisma and Wisdom saving throws, two skills, I’d suggest Deception and Intimidation, and light armor and simple weapons. You also get to choose an Otherworldly Patron and I already spoiled we’re going with a Noble Genie fro January Unearthed Arcana. This new class variant has gotten some flack for being seen as stereotypical but I have also seen people of Arabian descent approving of it. Thankfully Yz just got his whole story turned into an incoherent mess by Adam Glass (I cannot believe I just wrote that with word thankfully in front of it) who decided that he is an actual genie ad brother of Djinn and his BBEG Elias and ALSO a 5th-Dimensional Imp as established before. Then again wiki search claims he was an alien at some point. This means that what you need to do is ask at your table how people feel about this class variant. If everyone is okay with it, play Yz as a genie. If anyone would be offended by it offer to take class features but play your patron as some interdimensional creature instead. Flavoring is half of the fun in building characters after all.

You get Collector’s Vessel, which you can determine to be a pen. If you lose it you can perform a 1-hour ceremony to get a replacement. You got Thunderbolt because Jay Garrick gave you a wrong pen he himself got from Johnny Thunder by accident, learn to not make their mistakes.

A number of times equal your Charisma modifier per day you can, as an action, link a willing creature within 100 feet to you for an hour or until you use this ability again, the target is reduced to 0 hit points or gets more than 100 feet away from you. When bonded like this you can choose to cast a spell from the target’s space and not yours and can add your Charisma modifier to your Perception checks. Use this to stay in the back while Thunderbolt is in the front line throwing spells right next to Shazam or Hawkman.

Speaking of Spells, you get Pact Magic. You know a number of spells you can cast...I mean, have Yz cast for you.... and have a limited number of spell slots and as you grow in levels they automatically increase with you, meaning you always cast the spell from highest slot available, up to 5th. Casting a spell burns down a spell slot, you get them back after a short rest. Cantrips, however, can be cast at any time as often as you want. If a spell calls for saving throw it is made against Save Difficulty equal 8 + your Charisma modifier + your Proficiency Bonus. The last two modifiers also sum up to your spell attack bonus, if a spell asks you for an attack roll. In addition to learning new spells you can exchange spells you know for another as you rise in levels, so if any of my suggestions doesn’t work for you, pass it out for something else. You get two spells known and two Cantrips

Prestidigitation gets you to perform a number of minor tricks for free, it is much more useful than you may think and gets you to have Yz do a lot of minor stuff easily.

Eldritch Blast is the best offensive cantrip in the game, on a successful spell attack roll target takes 1d10 force damage and on 5th, 11th and 17th level each you get to fire one extra blast each, at the same target or different ones.

Unseen Servant gets you for 1 hour to command an invisible force that gets to do a number of small and minor tasks. Again, use this to play Thunderbolt doing things for you.

Thunderwave was added to Warlock Spell list in Class Features Unearthed Arcana and forces all creatures within 15 feet fro you to make a Constitution saving throw or be pushed 10 feet away from you. Whenever they saved or not they take 2d8 thunder damage, the save merely halves it. You do not want baddies to get close to you, you’re squishy.

This is how I imagine Jakeem’s version of Eldritch Blast looks like. Just have Yz YEEET himself at people.

Let us go to Level 2 now. Since I talked about how you don’t want the enemies to get close to you, how about we do something about when they do? In a few steps? 1st level Monk gains an Unarmored Defense, making your Armor Class equal 10+ your Dexterity and Wisdom modifiers. You also gain Martial arts, which allow you to use your Dexterity in place of Strength for your unarmed attacks, have them deal 1d4 instead of static 2 points of damage and allow you to use your bonus action to make an extra unarmed attack when you attack with unarmed strikes or monk weapons. Not very in character but we will improve it in two levels.

3rd Level: on 2nd level Monks gain Ki Points in number equal your Monk level. At a cost of 1 ki point, you can take Dash, Disengage or Dodge as bonus actions, which will be helpful for the whole defense thing. You can also spend 1 ki Point to make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action immediately after an attack action. Your Unarmored movement also increases by 10 feet.

4th level is where we end our dip in Monk with its 3rd level. You get Deflect Missles feature - whenever you’re hit by a ranged attack you can use your reaction to reduce the damage by 1d10 + your Dexterity Modifier + your Monk level and if it is reduced to 0 you can throw the projectile back at the attacker as a ranged attack as if it was a monk weapon.

But the real draw of this level of Monastic Tradition and Way of the Astral Self. This allows you to call upon Arms of the Astral Self and have Yz punch your enemy in the face - it costs you 2 ki points, the arms last for 10 minutes, have a reach of 10 feet, deal radiant or necrotic damage as you see fit, can use your Wisdom modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity modifiers for attack and damage rolls, allow you to use that modifier for all Strength checks and saving throws and you can make a bonus attack with them as a bonus action.

5th level: Our trip into a Monk ensured Jakeem can survive if someone actually gets close to him but now it’s time to focus on all other things we want. 2nd level Warlock gains one new spell known - Hex has a casting time of bonus action, can last for 1 hour with Concentration, causes the target to be dealt extra 1d6 necrotic damage and imposes disadvantage on all ability checks of one ability you choose. If the target is dropped to zero hit points, you can move it on another target as a bonus action.

You also get Eldritch Invocations. Thief of Five Fates lets you cast Bane once per long rest using a spell slot. Lasting on concentration for up to a 1 minute this spell forces up to 3 targets within 30 feet to make Charisma saving throws and those that fail to roll a 1d4 they subtract from an attack or saving throw whenever they make them. Mask of Many Faces lets you cast Disguise Self at will, which for 1 hour, no concentration, lets you make yourself look as anyone as long as it’s a humanoid with a basic array of limbs as you and no more than 1 feet shorter or taller. It is an illusion so physical inspection will reveal the trickery

6th Level: 3rd level Warlock gains a Pact Boon and we’ll pick Pact of the Talisman. It modifies your Collector’s Vessel so now it allows you to add 1d4 to any skill check in which you lack proficiency. You can also give it to someone else so they get this bonus.

You get to learn your first 2nd level spell as well. Hold Person forces a target to make a Wisdom saving throw when you cast it and at the end of its every turn and unless it succeeds one it is paralyzed for up to 1 minute or if you drop concentration - they cannot take actions and all hits on them are automatically critical ones. This is great for Warlock because all your spell slots scale with you, meaning on higher levels you get to automatically target multiple targets with single Hold Person

You get one more Cantrip too. Chill Touch on this level deals 2d6 necrotic damage on successful ranged spell attack in form of a spectral hand. Until the start of your next turn, the target cannot regain hit points and if it’s an undead it also gets a disadvantage on all attack rolls against you until the end of your next turn.

7th Level: 4th level Warlock gets an Ability Score Improvement, you should have Wisdom and Constitution in odd numbers so round them up for better Armor class, Astral Self attack and damage rolls, concentration and Hit Points - remember, you gain bonus hit points retroactively as well as with next levels, meaning you’ll be getting 7 for all levels up to this moment.

You also get one more spell. Enlarge/Reduce lets you for up to 1 minute on concentration increase size of a target, granting them an advantage on all Strength checks and saving throws and deal 1d4 of extra damage. Or decrease the size giving them a disadvantage and reducing 1d4 of damage they deal. If you cast it on an unwilling target it gets a Constitution saving throw to resist the effect.

8th Level: 5th Level Warlock learns their first 3rd level spell. COunterspell is a reaction spell that lets you shut down an enemy caster’s spell level 3 or lower and if it’s of a higher level you must roll a Charisma check against DC 10 + Spell Level. Use this to have Thunderbolt save an ally from an enemy attack and get rest of the JSA happy they have you.

You also get a new Eldritch Invocation. Tomb of Levistus will be our last resort defensive feature. Once per short or long rest it lets you, as a reaction when you are hit with an attack, entomb yourself in ice and gain 10 temporary hit points per Warlock level that immediately take on as much damage as possible, but until the end of your next turn you are vulnerable to fire damage (note it specifies you gain this after taking damage that triggered this effect), your speed is reduced to zero and you are incapacitated. Since you lose a turn use this only if you’d be killed by an incoming attack.

9th Level: 6th Level Noble Genie Warlock gains Elemental Resistance, allowing you to once per long rest gain resistance to one type of damage from acid, cold, fire, lightning or thunder until the next long rest and you can share this with a creature you bond with using your collector’s vessel.

You also get one more spell. Hypnotic Pattern forces all creatures in 30-feet range from a place where you cast it to make a Wisdom saving throw or become charmed and incapacitated and have its speed turned to 0 for the duration, on concentration to 1 minute, or until it takes damage or another creature wastes an action to shake it out of it.

10th level: 7th level Warlock gains first 4th level spell - Blight will allow us to boost our offense by dealing 8d8 necrotic damage to a target, half on successful constitution save. It doesn’t work on undead or constructs but plant creatures and magical plants make the saving throw with disadvantage while other plants just die. The downside is now Poison Ivy and Swamp Thing want to have a word with you and Yz.

You gain another Eldritch Invocation - Dreadful Word gives you an ability to use a spell slot to cast Confusion once per long rest, lasting up to 1 minute on Concentration. Each creature within a 10-foot radius must succeed a Wisdom saving throw or cannot take reactions and instead of actions must roll what it does on a random table on each of its turns until the spell ends or it succeeds another saving throw at the end of each of its turns.

11th Level: 8th Level Warlock gains a new spell slot. Polymorph allows you to transform you or another creature into another creature of challenge rating equal or lower the target’s, it gains all features and ability scores of the new form for the duration, which is up to 1 hour on concentration.

You also get an Ability Score improvement, increase your Charisma for better saving throw difficulty and spell attack modifier.

12th Level: 9th level of Warlock means access to 9th level spells - Creation lets you create an object no larger than a 5-foot cube out of a material of your choice, the better the material the short it will exist. You can make a stone object for 12 hours all the way to an adamantine object for 1 minute.

You get another Eldritch Invocation - Minions of CHaos allows you spend a Warlock spell slot once per long rest to cast Conjure Elemental, which summons an elemental of Air, Fire, Earth or Water who is allied to you as long as you keep up your concentration - if it fails before the spell duration (1 hour) or elemental dropping to zero hit points, it turns on you because it is unhappy you dragged it from its home to do your dirty work. So if you want you can have Yz call buddies from 5th Dimension but be wary they can be unpredictable.

13th Level: 10th lever Warlock gets a Cantrip and we should increase our offense. Poison Spray forces a creature to make a saving throw or take 2d112 (3d12 from next level) of poison damage.

Noble Genie now gives you Protective Wish - once you bond yourself with another creature using your Collector’s Vessel you can, would one of you be threatened by an attack, use your reaction to make you two swap places. This may help you get out of the harm’s way and have Shazam or Alan Scott deal with whoever threatened to beat you up.

You also get Genie’s Entertainment. Once per long rest you can have Thunderbolt wisk away a creature to 5th Dimension where he will play with it for 1 minute and then bring them back unharmed. It can avoid it or escape by making a Charisma saving throw first when you cast it and then at the end of each of its turns, if it fails until the effect ends naturally, you regain a use of this feature

14th Level: 11th level Warlock gets another spell and a new spell slot. Hold Monster works like Hold Person but without a limit only to humanoid targets, but you will be only targetting one creature with it.

At this level, you also gain Mystic Arcanum, which lets you grab one 6th Level Spell you can cast once per long rest without spending a spell slot. Institute of Flame lasts up to 1 minute on concentration, gives you resistance to cold and immunity to fire damage, deals 1d10 fire damage to any creature that moves within 5 feet of you for the first time or ends its turn there and as an action, you can create a 15 feet long and 5 feet wide line of fire dealing 4d8 fire damage, half on a successful Dexterity saving throw.

15th Level: 12th level Warlock means an Ability Score Improvement, round up your Charisma. You also get an Eldritch Invocation - Bond of the Talisman allows you to give your amulet to another creature and then either of you can as an action teleport to where the other one is, as long as you are on the same plane of existence. So give it to Jay Garrick, have him get behind enemy lines, teleport yourself to him and have Thunderbolt YEET himself at enemy caster.

16th Level: 13th level Warlock gets a 7th Level Mystic Arcanum - works the same as previous one but for a higher spell level. Forcecage lets you trap any creature in either a 10-feet on a side box of 20-feet on a side cage with 1/2 inch bars 1/2 inch apart from one another, made of force that prevents leaving by any means other than teleportation or interplanar travel and those two require a Charisma saving throw to succeed.

You get another 5th level spell as well. Planar Binding allows you to bind a celestial, elemental, fey or fiend to you for 24 hours, no concentration. The target must make a Charisma saving throw or be bound to do your bidding for 24 hours before returning to their home plane. Bind an Elemental and bond it with your Collector’s Vessel for full Thunderbolt experience. Mind you, just like Yz can carry out your commands too literally, this creature can twist words too, as long as it doesn’t break the letter of the command.

17th Level: 14th Level Warlock gets our last Noble Genie feature - Collector’s Call. You can make a Persuasion check to convince Ylzk to let you cast legend lore without components or spell slot, give one creature within 60 feet disadvantage on attack rolls and saving throws until the start of your next turn or heal a creature for 8d6 hit points and end one of these conditions if it has them: blinded, charmed, deafened, frightened, paralyzed, or poisoned. You regain use of this feature on a long rest...or if you flat out bribe Yz with 500 gold worth of treasure.

18th Level: 15th Level Warlock gains 8th Level Mystic Arcanum. Demiplane lets you cast door to a room in another dimension, new one or one you created previously or even one made by someone else if you know its properties. Once the spell ends, which is after an hour, any creature inside it is trapped unless you cast the spell again. You can use this to trap your enemies, store objects or allies and so on.

You also get a new Eldritch Invocation. Shroud of Shadow lets you cast Invisibility at will, without spending a spell slot, making you or someone else invisible until they attack or cast a spell. You can also replace Mask of Many Faces with Master of Myriad Forms, which lets you cast Alter Self that actually changes your appearance not just casts an illusion.

19th Level: 16th level fo Warlock is our last Ability Score Improvement, choose to improve either Wisdom for better AC and Astral Form attacks or Constitution for more Hit Points and better Concentration.

20th Level: Our capstone is 17th level of Warlock for our last Spell - I don’t see anything good on 5th level so grab Banishment, which forces target creature to make a Charisma saving throw or be sent to another plane for up to 1 minute and then returning unharmed. If the target is not from the plane you are on it is sent back to their home dimension and does not return unless the spell ends early by you breaking Concentration.

You also get your mystic Arcanum for 9th level. Sadly Wish is not on Warlock spell list so if you cannot talk your DM into giving it to you grab Imprisonment. If target fails Wisdom saving throw it is imprisoned by you in means you describe. It doesn’t need to eat, breathe, drink or age and cannot do anything. The form of imprisonment must be agreed upon by you and your DM. If it succeeds the save it is immune to your future attempts. So now when Yz brother forces their sister to summon you in front of him you will lock him into one of his own rings instead f getting your ass kicked.

So this is my take on Jakeem - Pact of the Noble Genie Warlock 17/Way of the Astral Soul Monk 3. Now let us see how good this build is.

Pros: You are a battlefield controller, with multiple options to sew chaos among your enemies. You have multiple options to blast enemies at distance and punish those who get close. Your Hit Points are around 140 which isn’t bad, it will take one or two hits before you get in the range of dreaded Power Word: Kill and you are all about staying out of the action yourself and not getting hit while Yz does the punching.

Cons: A lot of your spells require Concentration and your Constitution is not that high, Resilient feat does a lot of heavy lifting here. Your AC is not that good either since we didn’t cap Wisdom and your Dexterity is low. Finally, you have a limited set of options to do actual damage.

But that’s fine, you are still learning. Remember you are more a trickster and strategist - not the guy who punches the devil in the face but one who makes him so confused he runs into Wildcat’s fist. Stay in the back and hurl Thunderbolt at your enemies and all you need is few allies that can be the frontline.

- Admin

#Dungeons & Dragons #Jakeem Thunder #DC

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the-digimon-tamer · 5 years ago

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Chapter 36 - It Followed Us is out now on FanFiction.Net and ArchiveOfOurOwn! Check them out with the links or find it after the break!

Title: The Tamer v2.0 - In HIs Name

Fandom: Digimon

Rating: T

Synopsis: In the next adventure of the Digimon Tamer, the lives of Juri, Rika, and Henry change forever when digimon begin crossing over into the human world. But it’s all just a story, right? Just a book series by an author no one has seen in a long time. Why are they here and can they save their world before something worse follows the digimon?

All three groups - Digidestined, Monster Maker, and Hypnos - waited anxiously atop the Tokyo Metropolitan Building in anticipation of the Ark’s return. And every single one of them was worried about what would come through. A fully armed and equipped security team was on standby - in HAZMAT suits and geiger counters despite Izumi’s insistence that they weren’t necessary.

However, Yamaki didn’t want to chance it. He knew that these things brought radiation with them whenever they came through from their side of the Digital World. The last thing he wanted was to let these kids and their pets wander the city leaking more radiation than an X-Ray machine. He didn’t want to add sky rocketing cancer rates to the list of things his organization had to deal with.

At first there was nothing, just a long silence that made them all uneasy. With how much time they spent waiting, day turned to night and the city’s lights came to life.

Then a loud crack of thunder roared and a dazzling flash of light appeared in front of them as the sky seemed to rip open - letting through the ornate ship he had seen before. The Ark as it were called - or Grani - according to Curly. The ship appeared right on the helipad where it had before - floating perfectly still in the air for a moment too long until it turned around to reveal the open door on the back.

And inside were the kids they’d spent the afternoon trying to rescue: Henry, Xiaochun, Rika, Kazu, Kenta, Juri, and Takato - along with their digimon. Several digimon, actually. Digimon who were most definitely not with them when they left - a weird robot, a floating pink thing, the white bunny thing everyone was making a fuss about, another brown bunny thing and a small imp in the fox’s arms. Yamaki groaned at the realization that they’d actually brought back more of the creatures with them.

It should have been a happy moment. It could have been a happy moment, until Takato hopped out and was greeted by several of the security personnel with their weapons drawn. He threw up his hands immediately and whimpered, “I come in peace! I promise. Please put the guns down! No? Why does everyone feel the need to threaten me with a weapon today?”

“Are you seriously asking that question right now?” another boy asked as he stepped out of the ship Yamaki definitely didn’t recognize him. He expected a lot of things from them while they were in the Digital World. He didn’t expect them to bring back another human, although he probably should’ve at this point.

Once he noticed the others getting jumpy at the guns, Yamaki called out to get their attention and explained, “It’s a standard procedure. They’re not going to hurt you. Just let them make sure you’re safe and not leaking high levels of who knows what kind of radiation into the air.”

The men with the geiger counters approached, holding their devices up to the kids as Henry added, “I was feeling pretty safe until just now. What are they doing anyway? What kind of radiation do you think we have?”

“We don’t really know. Crossing the boundaries between worlds isn’t exactly a clean business. We need to make sure you’re not going to poison anyone around you and give them cancer. Hell, the last thing we need is you getting someone sick with an alien disease. Or some kind of slow acting poison.”

“Poison? Why would we do that?” little Xiaochun asked innocently enough. When one of the HAZMAT crew approached her, she shied away behind her older brother, “You’re scary.”

“Are all humans in this world like this? They’re all quite rude apparently,” the brown bunny stated with a frown. The floating pink thing added, “I don’t know, they seem alright to me. They just seem nervous. Maybe they need hugs!”

“Don’t! They might think you’re going to attack!” Kenta gasped.

“It’ll be alright, kids,” Zhenyu called out to them, trying to give some measure of comfort to his kids. After everyone was scanned, one of the HAZMAT crew called out, “We’re clear - radiation is at normal levels.”

“Finally!” the strange boy declared, pushing his way past the guards towards the nearest exit, “Well, it’s been fun but I’m heading home. I’m several years late on my curfew and I miss my parents.”

“Hold it,” Yamaki moved in front of the boy to keep him from escaping, “You weren’t part of the group when the kids went to the Digital World. Who are you?”

The boy groaned, “Oh you’re going to love this. Have a seat. We’re going to be here a while.”

…

As soon as the all clear was given, the Izumis wasted no time hurrying over to their daughter to hug her. And the poor girl was quickly overwhelmed, trying to push the two grown adults away in annoyance, “Mom! Dad! Get off!”

“And for a moment I thought you looked almost adorable Ruki,” Renamon mused from behind her with delight. Rika rolled her eyes, but smiled in appreciation of her parents. There hadn’t really been a family moment like that in a while. Hell, they hadn’t been together like this in some time - or rather for a few weeks. And it was good to see them getting along. And of Henry and his sister were having their moment with his parents. Kazu seemed to be trying to put up a brave face about the whole thing, with Kenta following his lead. After all, neither of them had told their respective families so there was no reason for them to know. Hell, they were probably worried sick about him. However, Guardromon spoiled the whole thing by pointing out a malfunction in his lacrimal gland - something Kazu didn’t understand, “My what?”

“It means you’re crying,” Miss Kamiya explained, crossing her arms, “Still, we’re glad to see you’re alright.”

“No biggie! So how long were we gone for?” Kazu answered smugly.

“A couple of hours,” Miss Kamiya answered, making his jaw fall to the floor, “Hours? It was weeks for us!”

“Time moves differently between worlds,” she responded.

Then there was the last set of parents: the Matsudas. And they seemed almost disappointed to see only one Takato there. Or rather Tamerkato. She knew where this was going and didn’t want to watch, looking away towards her parents. But both pf her parents seemed aware of what was going on. Her dad frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t even know the guy,” she answered sheepishly. That was right, she didn’t know him. So why did it hurt to think about it?

Rika’s eyes went downward band she tried to pretend what was about to happen wasn’t. But it wasn’t just the Takato situation she didn’t want to think about. There was so much to talk the about - the danger in the Digital World, the fact that they may have to go back to prevent it from destroying the Digital and reaching this world, amid all the other things that happened. For now though, all she wanted was to be with her parents. Although she wasn’t about to admit that. Then she remembered Ryo and Juri’s situation.

Ryo just wanted to go home after what had been twenty years of travel in the Digital World. Meanwhile, Juri had to watch her partner die in front of her. Tamerkato shared some responsibility for both. And now he had to answer for the real Takato - to the real Takato’s parents after promising to bring him back. She really didn’t envy him right now.

However, it seemed he didn’t want to answer for it either - instead opting to talk to Yamaki, “Let him go home. He’s had twenty years. Let him see his parents.”

“That’s all the more reason for us to hold him,” Yamaki countered, “Who knows what kind of diseases he’s brought back with him!? He could be sick and we wouldn’t know! We can’t be too careful.”

Tamerkato glanced once at Ryo, “I think he looks fine.”

Yamaki groaned, “I’m going to take the word of a medical professional over you.”

Tamerkato sighed and held up his digivice, “Where do you live?”

“Odaiba,” Ryo answered grimly, staring at him with increasing impatience. Tamerkato nodded, pressing a few buttons on his digivice, “You’ve got maybe a ten minute head start. Move quickly and try not to be seen. And see if you can keep him quiet. Understand?”

Ryo nodded quietly. Monodramon wasn't following and blurted out, “Hey! Why should I be quiet!?”

Yamaki looked between the two boys and asked, “What are you two planning?”

“This,” Takato answered with the biggest grin on his face before pointing his digivice at Ryo, “Good luck. Digiport open!”

Yamaki realized one second too late what was going on and tried to grab a hold of Ryo and Monodramon just before he vanished in a brilliant but dazzling display of light. Ryo was gone, possibly back to his won, world leaving Yamaki to stare at Tamerkato in anger, “What the hell did you do!?”

“I sent him back to his family,” Tamerkato flicked the man’s nose and looked over at the Matsudas. Yamaki grabbed a hold of him and raised him up in anger, “What do you mean you sent him back to his family!?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was pretty clear,” Tamerkato remarked. Yamaki cursed under his breath and turned to one of his agents, “Get a team to Odaiba now and track that Ryo kid down now. Riley, start looking this kid up - missing child named Ryo. Find his address, family, everything. Tally, get a HAZMAT team ready to intercept him!”

“Sir!” the team of agents said as they disappeared back into the building to carry out their orders. Takato turned to the Matsudas now and his smile disappeared as he made his way over to them. Rika could only imagine what was going through his head. Tamerkato would have to tell their parents the truth about their son. And she didn’t want to imagine how they were going to take that news. Her dad tried to move her so that she wouldn’t see, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so, “Ruki, you don’t have to deal with-”

“I know,” she heard herself say.

“Honey, shut up,” her mom squeezed his shoulder to silence him. If he didn’t understand the message then, he certainly did when a loud slap rang out. Rika closed her eyes, took a deep breath and finally looked back at the Matsudas to see Tamerkato on the ground with a red mark on his cheek. What she thought was a slap was actually a fist from Mister Matsuda, he was only held back from giving another one by his wife. Tamerkato’s expression was empty - not sad or hurt. Just empty. Guilmon, on the other hand, was in front of him and growling at Mister Matsuda for laying a hand on him. Tamerkato however, didn’t even try to look at them. He didn’t smile his stupid smile or frown or anything. He rubbed the sore spot on his cheek and looked away, “I’m sorry.”

“You better be!” Mister Matsuda snapped angrily. Tamerkato still didn’t look at him, quietly wrapping his hands around his digivice before murmuring, “Digiport Open!”

There was a bright flash and he was gone. Yamaki was mad now, stamping his foot on the roof, “Dammit, now we’re missing two of them.”

“Good riddance,” Mister Matsuda grumbled while his wife turned him around, “Honey! Don’t say that!”

“Our son is dead because of him!”

“We don’t know that!” she reasoned, “We don’t what happened over on the other side!”

“We know our son went missing and then he showed up shortly after!” Mister Matsuda practically screamed back, cooling when he saw his wife flinch back. He took a minute to breath deep before looking back towards her, “You, um...Rika? What happened over there!? What happened to our son?”

“Don’t involve our daughter in this,” her mom stepped in front of her, “She had nothing to do with whatever bullshit Tamer is pulling!”

“Mom!” Rika gasped in surprise at her mother’s sudden use of vulgar language. She didn’t even know her mother had it in her but there it was plain as day. Mister Matsuda pointed at her angrily and shouted, “Your daughter went with him to the Digital World. I want to know what he did. I want to know what you found out! What happened to Takato!?”

Rika cursed under her breath, unaware that Tamerkato would leave her to have to deal with explaining the truth to the Matsudas. She should’ve known this would happen. Still, she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him. And after the temper tantrum he threw in the Digital World, she was unsure of how much anger he’d be letting loose now. Which was another terrifying thought when she dwelled on it. What would she do if Megidramon suddenly let loose in the middle of Tokyo? It wasn’t like they had the ability to deal with that! They needed Azulongmon last time. And it wasn’t like they could just pull an all powerful dragon to the human world without scaring a whole lot of people.

”Hey!” Mister Matsuda snapped his fingers to get attention.

“Don’t talk to my daughter like that!” her dad snapped back.

“All of you calm down!” Miss Kamiya cried out at the top of her lungs, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. She threw her hands up in frustration, “In case you’ve all forgotten, we’ve got a situation on our hands. Rika, What thee hell happened in the Digital World and is everything alright?”

“That’s a long story and I don’t think there’s enough time in the day,” Rika finally managed to find her voice, “The good news is we’re back. The bad news is we may not be back for long.”

“What!? You have to go back!?” her mom gasped, covering her mouth in terror as her eyes widened in fear, “Well not without us you’re not!”

Rika didn’t want to be the one to break that news to them, and could only wonder what was going to happen to them now. Thankfully, Renamon was able to spare her having to answer the rest of the questions, “We know now why the Devas were after Calumon and why they were so intent on coming to this world. Our world, the Digital World, is in danger from an old threat. One that scares even the Digimon Tamer. Without us, the Digital World will certainly be destroyed. Then it’s only a matter of time before it comes to this world.”

“Why is it always the end of the world with this stuff!?” Davis complained angrily.

“Well, there’s one bit of good news. We found your partners and we know they’re safe,” Henry added hopefully. This earned the attention of everyone present, “You did!? Where are they!? Are they okay? How do we get to them!?”

“They’re alright and they miss you guys,” Henry answered happily, “They wanted to see you guys and come with us, but Takeru and Tamer said it wasn’t time. Without you guys there too digivolve then, they’d be more of a liability than a help.”

“TK!? He’s alive too?” Matt jumped up at the sound of his brother’s name, his shoulders slumping as all the tension left him.

“We should’ve known. Where else was he going to go?” Ken mused at the revelation. Despite the relatively good news they had to offer, Mister Matsuda cleared his throat again, “I hate to ruin this parade but what the hell about our son!? What happened to Takato!?”

The mood soured again. Rika glanced towards Juri, “We don’t really know. The only one who would know is Juri since she’s the one who found out first. Tamer wouldn't repeat what he told her and Juri’s...not been great ever since-”

She paused again, realizing that she might have just brought up a very painful memory for Juri. However, the girl hardly seemed to notice anything was said at all. In fact, she just stood there staring ever since they first returned from the Digital World. The poor girl must’ve been shellshocked - traumatized first from finding out that Takato was dead and again from witnessing Leomon die. She didn’t know what to say to her and could only place a hand and on her shoulder, “Hey, it’ll be alright.”

“You poor girl, I’m so sorry,” her mother said, going to hug the poor girl. Juri didn’t react, continuing to stare off into space. It was unnerving. Rika has to look away because of how terrifying she looked like this. As she scanned the other adults, she realized something, “Hey, where’re her parents?”

“They didn’t come, remember?” Doctor Kido remarked, making his way to the girl and resting a hand on her head, “It’s a shame. It seems like she could use her family right about now.”

It was obvious that Mister Matsuda was still steaming though and was about to snap when Doctor Kido apologetically told him, “She’s in no condition to talk to anyone right now. We can ask her tomorrow. For now, she should be with her family.”

“Her? What about my family!? What happened to my son!?” Mister Matsuda roared with increasing anger. Doctor Kido crossed his arms and stepped up to him, “You need to relax. I understand you’re upset but would knowing actually make you feel any better or would it just make you angrier? I think what you should do is take a deep breath and take a walk to clear your head.”

Mister Matsuda paused for a second, his wife still trying to hold him back before he let loose in a flurry of anger. That moment of lucidity appeared to finally calm him down, until he lashed out in anger at the doctor by striking him across the face. It seemed that moment of lucidity didn’t last as long as it needed to. Doctor Kido fell backwards onto the roof while Mister Matsuda massaged his hand, “When you lose your only child, then you can talk to me about calming down.”

He turned to leave, kicking everything he could find in a fit of anger. His wife trailed behind for a second, hesitating to follow him - perhaps even unsure of what she should do next. After all, did it matter? She’d just been told her only son was dead and not coming back. And who wanted to hear that news? Rika looked to the digidestined present - wondering if any of them would have anything to say about it. Between the eleven of them - they’d lost parents, siblings, but never kids. Even if any of them could relate, she doubted either Matsuda would appreciate the sympathy.

“I think it’d be best if we all head home tonight and cleared our heads,” Henry’s dad finally said, “The kids had a long trip and I’m sure they all want to go home and have a good night’s rest for the first time in a long time.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Kazu agreed, putting his hands behind his head. Yamaki waved to get their attention, “I can arrange for transport to get you kids and your digimon home discreetly.”

“What about-” Kenta whispered quietly, gesturing at Juri who continue to just stare off into space. Calumon whimpered, “It’s not Juri. It’s not. Please, something’s happened to her!”

“Calm down, Calumon,” Kazu said with a scolding voice. Unfortunately that tone seemed to be it for Calumon who ran for the edge of the roof, “No. I don’t like it. She’s scaring me!”

Henry and Xiaochun tried to chase him to the edge but their dad stopped them before they could get close. Several of the guards tried to secure him but he was too small and fast for them to catch. Before anyone could stop it, Calumon’s ears grew in size and he used them like wings to glide away off the edge of the roof.

Everyone cursed the luck of Calumon getting away like that but nothing could be done about it. Kenta groaned, “Man, and we went through all that trouble just to get him.”

“Never mind. It’s not like the Devas are coming to take him again. As long as he’s here, he’s safe,” Renamon assured him, “Besides, we have other things to worry about.”

She gestured to Juri; Rika’s mom has pulled away from the hug and was trying to talk to her but she didn’t seem to respond to anything.

Yamaki adjusted his shades, “We can have an agent escort her home. It’d probably be for the best.”

“I can do it,” Kari volunteered with a raised hand, going over to her student. Yamaki nodded, “Alright. We can figure out the rest of this tomorrow. It’s been a long day.”

Rika was glad that at least her teacher was willing to be with her. She was ready to leave when she noticed Renamon hanging back, “What’s wrong, Renamon?”

Her partner gestured at the small imp laying unconscious in her arms, “What about Impmon?”

“What about him?” Kazu answered coldly. Rika understood where her partner was going with this - they couldn’t just leave him here to the Hypnos Program. Especially with what those guys did to digimon. On the other hand, helping him was a tough sell after what he did to Leomon. After what he did to the rest of them. Then again, whatever Tamerkato did to him was definitely punishment enough. The poor guy had been screaming forever, before he was knocked unconscious.

She took a moment to consider but couldn’t reach a decision. Her partner put her faith in her that she would help save the Digital World. Why not return the favor? She sighed, “Do whatever you think is right.”

“Thank you,” Renamon nodded her head and adjusted the little digimon in her arms so that she was cradling him like an infant, “I’ll meet you back in your house. Good night.”

She vanished after that. Yamaki sighed as he massaged his head, “Great, more digimon getting loose in the city. Why am I still surprised at this point? This’ll be a fun report to the Minister.”

…

Kari tried to think of what to say to her student - a poor girl who had been through as much trauma in the Digital World as she had in her time as a digidestined. Between Myotismon’s attack, her brother’s disappearance, the Dark Masters, and everything else - her brother may come in and out of her life...but she’d never lost a partner like that. Hell, she didn’t even know what she’d do if Gatomon were to die and not come back. Although she had worried about her partner for the longest time. She at least knew her partner was safe.

But Juri?

All she could do was hold the girl’s hand as she walked her home. They reached the train station and bought some tickets for the two of them, the whole time trying to think of what to say her. The fact that she didn’t talk at all wasn’t helping. She’d bought her a soda and some crackers so she could at least have a snack but the girl didn’t even seem to notice. But she hardly registered that she was holding either the drink or the packet of crackers. It was just silent staring off into space, barely reacting or acknowledging the world around her.

It didn’t get any better when they got on the train and she sat silently, staring straight ahead without saying a word with the crackers and drink in hand. Kari made sure to take a car that no one else was using in the hopes that she’d feel more comfortable with privacy. But it didn’t seem to matter. In fact, she barely even moved when the train lurched forward. It was like she was a doll - a mannequin in the shape of Juri. Kari did the only thing she could think of, “I’m sorry about what happened in the Digital World, Juri. I wish you didn’t have to go through that.”

No response.

“I understand that you’re hurt. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it. I’m not just your homeroom teacher, y’know. I’m also one of you. A digidestined,” Kari offered. Still no response. This wasn’t going to work. She needed to change her approach. But what else could she do? She couldn’t force Juri to talk to her. All she could do was try to be there for her, be someone that Juri could feel at ease with.

“Nutritional Facts. Serving Size: One Can. One Hundred Forty Calories per serving. Zero percent daily value of total fat. Two percent daily value of sodium. Roughly forty-five milligrams. Fourteen percent daily value of Total carbohydrates. Roughly thirty-nine grams. Seventy eight percent daily value of sugars. Zero percent daily value of proteins. Not a significant source of saturated fat, transfat, cholesterol, fiber, vitamin D, calcium, iron, and potassium. Ingredients. Carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, caramel color, phosphoric acid, natural flavors, caffeine.”

“Juri?” Kari blinked as her student continued to read the side of the can of soda she’d been given. It seemed her whole world had become reading the side of the soda can. And once she finished, she started reading the side bag of crackers. Kari snapped her fingers to get her attention, but Juri was laser focused on her reading more than anything. Maybe this was a coping mechanism? She knew her student would use a sock puppet to communicate with others if she felt overwhelmed and had something she had a hard time saying. But this, this was something else entirely. It was madness.

Then the lights of the train started to flicker - flashing on and off. She was beginning to rethink her concerns about being alone in an empty car and grabbed a hold of her student defensively, “Hang on.”

The lights flickered repeated until finally stopping, shrouding the car in darkness. This had to be a trap. A portal to the Digital World? A digimon appearing? It had to be something. Then there was a bright flash of light that briefly blinded them. When she could open her eyes again, the lights were back on and Tamer was lying on the ground, “Damn. I hate trying to land on moving targets. Are you okay Guilmon?”

“I’m fine. My head feels heavy,” the red dinosaur said from the ground beside him, upside down in his seat. Tamer helped the poor dinosaur and adjusted himself, “That’s because you were upside down. That happens when I try to land on a moving target since it’s hard to match the momentum when I have to consider the rotation of the universe around us. Earth is spinning at hundreds of miles an hour, rotating around another star going thousands of miles an hour, while also falling through...never mind.”

“Is that a food?” Guilmon asked.

“TAMER!” Kari gasped in surprise, quietly moving Juri behind her. In Juri’s current state, she was sure he was the last person she wanted to talk to. Tamer adjusted himself, massaging his head, “Hi Kari.”

“Where’d you go?” seemed like the wrong question to ask. There were a hundred questions running through her head. And none of them sounded appropriate. Takato or Tamer or Tamerkato or whatever he was going by now shook his head, “I figured that everyone would want nothing more than me to not be there. All the punches I’ve been getting lately got that message across.”

“Punches? Tamer...I mean...no, what are you doing here?” Kari finally managed to get out. Once he finished straightening himself out, he approached the two of them and separated them, “Here to talk. Not to you, Kari. But we can talk later if you’d like. I’m here to talk to you. Where’s Juri?”

He was pointing at Juri. Kari was beginning to think he’d finally lost it. No, when did he ever have it? This was insane. He said again, “Look, I know you’re not Juri. It’s not just the behavior, which is completely off. And the dead eyes stare is wrong too. The smells not doing you any favors either. No, what gave it away was the sock puppet. Juri always uses the sock puppet when she has a hard time saying what’s on her mind. She’d be distressed over what’s been going on lately. But she hasn’t used her sock puppet once. So who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”

“If you knew, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Juri replied, her eyes moving up and down over Tamer curiously. The way the two of them were looking at each other, she was certain they were going to start throwing fists. However, Tamer indulged her, “I was waiting to see what you would do. You’re in our world now. What do you want?”

“Information. The nemesis is strong in power. A tactical withdrawal was necessary. There were complications, unexpected hurdles. The tactical withdrawal has turned into an advance. A two front sat,” Juri replied monotonously, “New subjects were encountered. At this time, there is insufficient information to properly process them. More information is needed. This world may contain the key to victory.”

“Victory against what?”

“The nemesis.”

“We’re getting off topic. Where’s Juri?” Tamer demanded angrily. Juri cocker her head to the side and smiled wickedly, “The subject designated Juri is here. Surrendering control of the face.”

Juri’s face twisted from one of passive indifference to pure terror as she shrieked, “AH! WHAT’S HAPPENING? WHERE AM I!? WHY CAN’T I MOVE? TAKATO!? HELP ME! FOR THE LOVE OF-”

Her face switched back to a passively indifferent expression and her voice became monotonous, “-control of the face reacquired.”

Tamer froze, “You’re in her body.”

Something like a smile twisted on to her face: a big wide toothy grin spread wider than it should be, “Of course. She invited it. She allowed it.”

“Invited it? She’s a ten year old girl who was emotionally devastated from the death of her partner! She wasn’t in a mental state to allow anything!” Tamer snapped.

“She wanted it,” Juri answered cheerily. Something about that shook her and she growled, “What the hell!? What have you done to my student.”

“Relieved her of her suffering. Of her guilt. Of her anger and her frustration,” Juri replied. Whatever was inside Juri, was controlling her body, said it with such sickening glee that Kari wanted nothing more than to hurt it. But how? She wasn’t even sure how it was inside her body. And hurting this thing would just hurt Juri.

“Who are you?” Tamer demanded angrily. The thing that was inside Juri looked at her with an even bigger smile, “I’ve been given many designations over the time of my existence. Destroyer. Devourer. Death. The Beast. However, these designations are just words use to ascribed to some meaning to my existence in an ill conceived attempt by lesser beings to comprehend me.”

“Big words and a lot of talk, but not a lot of answers,” Tamer tapped his foot impatiently, “Who. Are. You?”

It cackled, “I am your reckoning. My existence is to purge the dangerous. The powerful. To balance the scale and give the smaller life forms a fighting chance. Until they grow too strong. The scales must be balanced. The world must understand its natural order. All life will die. All endings lead to new beginnings. I am the-”

“Bored now,” Tamer interrupted. Juri’s twisted smile disappeared and turned to one of twisted anger, “Your callous disregard for the common etiquette and shift in attitude indicates a level of cockiness or confidence not shared by your peers. Your confidence could be due to an immeasurable level of stupidity because you don’t quite grasp the situation you’re in. But we both know that’s wrong. So it must come from a level of confidence in your own ability of strength to feel unthreatened by me. And I can assure you that you should be very afraid - because my purpose is to destroy people like you.”

“You’re the computer program the others made to manage the Digital World,” Tamer concluded. Kari looked from Juri to Tamer, unsure what was going to happen next. But this was not a safe place to be. This train and everyone on it was in great danger. Juri’s creepy smile returned, “The Digital World fears me. This world will fear me too!”

“But that’s not possible. You’re a data life form! A data life form can’t just merge with organic life form. That’s...that’s not possible,” he stammered in disbelief. Juri cocker her head to the side, “It is possible. It’s happened before. It can happen again.”

“Bioemerging,” Tamer gasped, “You biomerged. You tried to anyway but you...oh...no...”

“The scales must be balanced. You are a clear and present danger to those around you,” Juri said, reaching out towards Tamer with her hands. Tamer’s eyes widen in terror at that statement and he stepped back towards Kari, “Hang on to me. Digiport Open!”

He held his digivice up in the air. Kari latched onto him as there was another bright flash of light. She closed her eyes, familiar with the sensation of falling until it went away and was replaced with the cold chill of the night air. She opened her eyes and found herself on top of a building beside Tamer and Guilmon. He dusted himself off and apologized, “Are you alright Kari?”

“I’m fine. What the hell was that?” she said, trying to gain her bearings. They were on a rooftop now, somewhere in the city. On closer inspection, they were not too far from where they’d gotten on the train. They were in Shinjuku, not too far from the Metropolitan Building. Tamer readjusted his clothes, “A bad situation. A very bad problem. The thing terrorizing the Digital World, that made the Sovereigns and the Devas freak out, that started this whole thing...it’s here. In Tokyo. And I think I’m the reason it got loose in this world.”

“What do you mean?” Kari’s voice shook, quavering with an anger for Tamer she didn’t know she’d had before. He held up his hand to calm her down and tried to massage her head, “Sorry, I need a moment to think.”

Kari was about to snap. She considered her words carefully before speaking, making sure to watch her tone so that she didn’t explode on him, “Tamer, I’ve been nothing but patient and giving you moments. Ever since you first showed up in my apartment when I was a kid. Ever since your disappeared out of my life. Three times. Talk to me! Keep me in the loop! What is going on!? What the hell was that and why is it here?”

Tamer massaged his temples, “I noticed something was wrong with Juri after Leomon died but didn’t want to cause more problems so I didn’t say anything. And I needed to be sure that whatever was pretending to be her wasn’t a threat. But I definitely screwed that up and now there’s a crazy monster that kills everything it sees and eats everything it kills running around Tokyo in the shape of a ten year old girl. And I...oh shit.”

He stopped and stared off into space without saying a word. He fell quiet and Kari felt her frustration bubbling. She cursed, “Oh shit? Tamer, tell me you’ve got some kind of a plan. Tell me you know how to beat this. Tell me it’s all under control.”

No response. She was getting really tired of that. She snapped, “TAMER!?”

Tamer turned her head with his hand to see what he was seeing. And she knew why he’d fallen silent. She wasn’t sure what to do. There was a great big red gelatinous mass in the center of the city that hadn’t been there before. In fact, now that she thought about it, that was right where the train had been a moment ago. That was where their train was a second ago. It was a lot to process how much danger they were in, “Oh shit.”

#The Tamer v2 In His Name #Digimon Tamers #Fanfiction #archive of our own #Chapter 36

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redrobin-detective · 6 years ago

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Love at First Snort

I have an hour before I need to head back to the hospital but uh here you go.

Superboy didn’t see much of a future in this Young Justice team. First off, the name itself was offense. He didn’t want to be part of some Kids Klub Junior Justice League; he wanted to be out there making his own name, making the big bucks and getting all the honies. Instead he’s found himself saddled with the most hyperactive, inattentive speedster and a powerless boy who thinks he can boss around two metas despite the fact that the kid’s almost a foot shorter than him.

Kinda lame entourage for someone who’s gonna be the next Superman but even the greats need to start somewhere. Might as well get some enjoyment out of it while he can. Rob’s doing something on the big computer and Imp’s flipping back and forth between the Xbox and his handheld gamer. Robin can be counted on to be a big sourpuss but Impulse should get a kick out of this. Man, the things the League just left lying around here are incredible.

“Robin, we’re needed back in Gotham. We haven’t met our bad guy punching quota for the day.” Rob’s face twists in a funny way but Impulse bursts out into wheezy little giggles. Superboy grins beneath the Batman cape and cowl and throws out one leg from beneath the cape revealing an old pair of Canary’s thigh high heels. “The Batmobile is broken so we’re hitchhiking back. Lose the tights and we might be able to get a ride. Don’t worry, Justice will keep you warm.” He hovers over Robin who’s face is all scrunched up like he’s trying not to sneeze. Superboy opens the cape revealing one of Wonder Woman’s bustiers filled with paper towels.

“If that’s not enough, you can snuggle up to my manly pecs. It’s alright little bird, you can feel them if you want. Go on, I only let my favorite sidekicks touch.” Rob ducks his head and his shoulders shake a little bit. Superboy braces for the lecture about being respectful to the other heroes even though it’s totally their fault for leaving their costumes here. Instead, Robin lets out a very adorable little snort. Superboy’s eyes go wide beneath the cowl as suddenly Rob throws his head back and begins laughing hysterically.

“oh my god what the hell are you wearing where did you even find that?? Oh wow I can’t even look at you right now, stop, I can’t breathe.” Rob wheezes out, hunched over his stomach as he laughs loudly, occasionally interrupted by a little snort. He’s got a big smile as all the stress lines smooth out into laugh lines, it makes him seem so much younger. A few locks of hair bounce tantalizingly in front of his mask and Superboy finds he can’t look away. It’s like the entire Earth drifted off it’s axis and righted itself on the sound of Robin’s laughter.

He feels a tingle start in his toes and light all the way up his spine, at the sight of Rob holding up a glove to his face to try, and fail, to contain his giggles. ‘Oh boy’, Superboy thought as he tried to shake himself out of whatever dumbass thing his heart was doing right now. He’d been attracted to all kinds of people, guys, gals, aliens, the feeling was nothing new but he’d never felt anything this strong and for Robin of all people.

After a minute, Rob’s laughs slow down to breathy little chortles as he leans back in his chair with a wry grin. Superboy finds his eyes darting between Rob’s ruffled hair and gangling, relaxed posture before he makes himself look over at Imp. The speedster was grinning widely, looking back and forth between the two of them with obvious glee. Well, whatever, so Rob was kind of cute and had like, the most adorable laugh. It’s not like he was in love or anything.

“I haven’t laughed like that in weeks,” Rob moans, still catching his breath. “I can’t believe you, you’re either crazy or fearless.” Superboy puffs out his chest and the bustier slips a little bit making Rob laugh a little more. At that moment, he feels like he could take on the whole world and then some.

“For you Boy Wonder, I’d be both,” he explains, the light flirtation coming out easily.

“Yeah, whatever clone boy,” Rob muttered but Superboy didn’t miss the light blush on his face before he turns and goes back to his computer work. Imp jumps up and demands to know where he’d found all the costumes, breaking whatever weird mood had descended over. Still, he turns to give Robin a quick glance as they leave and he thinks that there might be some merit in sticking out this Young Justice thing. He thinks he should try and make Rob laugh a little more.

(Years and years later, when he and Tim are asked how they fell in love. Tim will give a long winded explanation about their slow growing bond of friendship and how it blossomed into more. Kon talks about that cute little snort and how, even now, it’s one of things he loves most about the love of his life.)

#timkon #well this is kind of dumb #for some reason 'Kon talking about Tim and their love' is easier than the opposite #maybe because Kon is so much more receptive and expressive #definitely the romantic of the two while Tim is much more reserved #anyway I need to finish getting ready #also Bart be knowing #he's been the biggest Timkon shipper from ay 0 #its like a parent trap only Tim and Kon were never married but Bart sees them as psuedo parents anyway and he wants them to be happy togethe

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hydrospanners · 6 years ago

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bars and stripes. This isn't the first time Doc has impersonated an Imperial officer and it probably won't be the last. So long as his nervous alien friend doesn't get them caught, that is. SWTOR genfic. Doc, with a guest appearance from another companion. 1400 words. AO3.

“Wait, we’re going in there?”

Doc nodded, tugging at the stiff collar of his borrowed uniform. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable the damned things were. “I’m thirsty.”

“And I’m trying to get out of here without putting any new holes in this jacket,” his partner hissed back.

“No one’s going to shoot you. Trust me, Master Jedi. I’ve done this before.”

“Do you wanna say that a little louder?” The Jedi mumbled, doing his best to duck his enormous Mon Calamari head behind Doc’s shoulders as the door swung open and two very knackered officers stumbled out, laughing and falling into each other. Doc raised two fingers to his forehead in a casual approximation of a salute, and they answered with blissful smiles and a gesture that was probably supposed to be a salute of their own. “That club is officer’s only, Doc,” the Jedi whispered urgently, tugging him back by the sleeve of his coat. “I am not an officer!”

“Hard to be an officer when you aren’t even in the army.”

“At least you have some bars on your collar, Captain. We stole my uniform from a Corporal!”

“Borrowed,” Doc corrected. “We’ll take it back when we’re done. And anyway, no one’s going to notice. They’ll either be too drunk or too fixated on you being an alien.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” the Jedi whined. “No one’s gonna believe an alien is an officer.”

“It’s all about confidence. Just follow my lead and everything will be fine.” Doc reached up, popping a pin from his collar and attaching it to the Jedi’s. Then he sauntered toward the club without waiting for an answer. It was usually easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.

As bars went, it was fairly sedate. Utilitarian. Nearly identical to every other Imperial officer’s club he’d ever been in, which was a surprisingly high number for a man who’d never been an Imperial citizen. He leaned casually against the bar, relaxing onto his elbow and gesturing for the bartender droid’s attention. He ordered a Sullustan gin and tonic for both him and his partner and scanned the room.

“Relax,” Doc said, once the bartender had gone to fetch the gin. “We’re just a couple of officers having a drink. Same as the rest. They won’t be interested in you unless you give them a reason to be.”

“I’m an alien,” the Jedi hissed.

“Nobody will notice.” The droid returned with their cocktails promptly, and Doc took a slow sip. It was surprisingly good. “You’re going to need a name, you know. Can’t exactly call you—“

“ Wan. Call me Wan. And that’s pretty rich, coming from you, Doc.”

“Not my fault your job doesn’t exist on this side,” he shrugged. “Wan.”

“Not so loud.”

Doc just grinned, sipping at his drink and relaxing into the bar. “You could’ve gone the other direction, y’know. Got some black robes, some big shoulder pads—“

The color drained from the Mon Calamari—from Wan’s face. “No! No way. Do you know what they would do if they caught me?”

“Probably no worse than what they’ll do if they catch you here.”

But Wan was shaking his head, eyes wide with real terror. “They’ll kill me if they catch me here. If they caught me doing that—“ He shuddered, visibly. “They might let me live.”

Doc didn’t need an explanation to know why that was worse. He’d heard plenty of stories, and after what he’d seen in their Medical Corps, he was pretty sure every one of them was true. “Calm down, Wan. No one’s going to catch you doing anything.”

Wan nodded, though his yellow skin was still a little dulled, and climbed up onto the bar stool next to Doc. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall directly across from him and held his whole body ramrod straight and unnaturally still. He was making his nerves very obvious, but it was almost working in his favor. The Imps always looked like they had sticks up their asses and right now, despite the fishy features, Wan looked like he fit right in.

“Keep that up and they might promote you,” Doc grinned, patting the Jedi on the shoulder.

“Shut up,” Wan grimaced. “What are we even doing here?”

“I told you. I’m thirsty.”

Wan gave him a flat, unimpressed look Doc was starting to grow familiar with. It was a look he’d seen on hundreds of faces before and would likely see on thousands more before his time was up. “I can tell when you’re lying, y’know,” Wan said.

And Doc did know. He’d seen it with his own eyes, how people like Wan could do could smell a lie on the air, or fish the truth directly from a person’s mind. He just wasn’t sure he believed Wan could do it. Wan hadn’t been able to do much of anything else Jedi were supposed to be able to do.

“Fine. I’m looking for someone.”

“Please don’t tell me you have friends here.”

“I didn’t say it was a friend.”

“Enemies are even worse, Doc.”

“He’s not an enemy, either. Just someone I’ve worked with before. Someone who can help us out of this mess.”

“The mess you got us in.” Wan’s eyes danced nervously around the corners of the room. “Is that him over there?”

Doc shook his head, taking another sip from his drink. He’d hand it to the Imps; their officer’s clubs had much better stock than the swill they served on the other side. Just as long as you could forget the luxury of it was carried on the backs of slaves.

He’d found that wasn’t a detail he was able to forget.

“Are you sure? He’s watching us.”

Doc shook his head again. “He probably just thinks you’re pretty.”

“ Doc ,” Wan hissed, in that humorless tone of voice Doc knew so well.

He smiled into his glass. Wan jumped half out of his seat when the door swung open and a trio of officers filed in, their shoulders straight and expressions somber. Their eyes all danced over Wan, but none stuck. They were more interested in the bartender just now. None of their faces were familiar.

“Oh no.” Wan swallowed thickly, finding a way to sit up even straighter. “He’s coming over here.”

“Play hard to get,” Doc suggested.

Wan found it in himself to glare.

A firm hand settled on Doc’s shoulder, followed by a low, Imperial drawl. “Gentlemen,” the officer—a Major, from the hardware wrapped around his throat—offered them both a predatory smile. His breath stank of rum. “I couldn’t help noticing you over here.”

“I get that a lot,” Doc affected his own Imperial accent, smiling lazily. “And I’m flattered, really, but I’m taken.”

The Major’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something in the black of his eyes that told Doc he was not amused. “Noted,” he said. “I also noted that your friend’s jacket seems to have some stripes on it. Surely you are aware that this is the officer’s club.”

“You’re very observant, Major.”

“And you are aware that corporals are not permitted in the officer’s club.”

Doc shrugged, noting that they’d drawn a bit of attention. “He’s a Corporal Captain. Part of a pilot program from Vaiken. Something about finding a use for his kind in the Corps. We’ve got so many of them just sitting around, y’know, seems a shame to let ‘em go to waste.”

The Major examined Wan thoughtfully, his glazed over eyes scrunched up in concentration. “We already have a use for his kind,” he finally said, sneering. It was clear to everyone listening what use he was thinking of.

Doc nodded, taking another sip from his drink. He’d need three more of these at the rate this was going. “I reckon they’ve got their reasons up at Command, but Force knows they don’t share ‘em with me.” He gestured lamely to the Captain’s bars on his jacket. “Not my business. I just do what my orders tell me to.” He nudged Wan in the ribs. “Put that in the report, will you? We got another no.”

The Major nodded. “Indeed.”

“Well, thanks for your input, Sir. You’ve been a big help.”

The Major sniffed, like the very concept of helping was beneath him. “Very well,” he said. “Carry on, Gentlemen.”

Doc offered another lazy almost-salute which the Major turned his nose up at before retreating to his own table with the other, shinier folk. Enough brass to blind a man over in that corner.

Wan released a long, shuddering breath once he was gone. His shoulders slumped forward and his fingers curled on the bar, like he wanted to move more but was afraid to. Doc just nudged the untouched gin and tonic toward him.

“I hate you,” Wan said. He downed the drink in one long gulp.

#swtor #swtor doc #archiban kimble #docember 2018 #my fic #please enjoy this gag #shamelessly stolen from from MASH #because everything on that show #seems like something doc would do #and i have an irresistible urge to write about it

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padfootagain · 7 years ago

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One More Time (II)

Part 2 : Emerald

Here goes part 2 !!! Still some major spoilers so :

IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN INFINITY WAR YET DO NOT READ THIS!!!

There are 2 timelines to follow, so the two timelines are separated with these---- and two paragraphs of the same timeline are separated with these *** just to make things clearer.

Watch out for violence and war scenes.

I hope you like this part :)

Gif not mine

Word Count : 4084

Two years ago

Nepal

Kamar-Taj

The name was almost a legend. Only whispers breathed in the night. No real indications, besides a location. It was in Nepal, in Kathmandu. Learning this piece of information had taken you almost a year, but you were not of the kind to give up easily. Perhaps it was the reason why you were so good at your job.

Once you had a lead for an article, you wouldn't give up before the whole thing was printed and revealed to the world. And this strange place that apparently summoned miracles was no different. You would not give up before finding the truth about this secret place.

Apparently, only desperate people would reach Kamar-Taj. You had come up with a good story of an orphan looking for a way to avenge your parents' death to find a way to the doors. You hoped it would be good enough to convince whoever was in charge there to let you in and talk for a while.

You followed this man, Wong, who had stopped you in the street. He had heard that you were looking for Kamar-Taj, and would take you to it, if you were willing to. Of course, you had accepted, but not without warning your boss about what was going on. You were used to investigate about dangerous criminal webs, it had turned you more defensive. You couldn't imagine that someone would just bumped into you in the street and guide you there.

But as you entered the tall wooden house, it seemed that you had been wrong.

You drank in the sight of the complicated arabesques drawn on the paved floor, the sculpted wood decorating the walls…

It didn't look like some criminal house. It looked like a sanctuary.

The dim light was soothing, and you were surprised by how silent the large room you had just walked in was. You expected to hear the noises coming from the busy street outside, but actually, you were met by no sounds but the ones caused by your steps.

"Where are we going?" you asked your guide.

"You need to meet the Sorcerer Supreme. He will decide if we should take you in or send you back in the street."

"I see… so this… Sorcerer Supreme is the… boss…"

Wong raised an eyebrow, but shrugged anyway.

"I guess you could put it that way."

"And he is to decide if you can help me or not, right?"

"He is to decide if there is need for help or not."

"I don't understand."

Wong turned towards you, stopping before a large wooden door.

"Sometimes, you just need someone to show you how you can help yourself. But you do not need their help."

You frowned, nodding slowly, although unable to fully comprehend the meaning behind his words. You guessed it was just a matter of time. Or that he was high on some kind of drugs… or that you had fallen in a cult…

Yes, the cult was definitely a possibility.

You followed Wong in the next room, where a man was sitting at a large wooden table, eating an apple and reading an ancient book.

"Oh, then you found her."

You studied the man wrapped in a red cloak, a strange pendant hanging around his neck. You studied his sharp features, his cold blue eyes, his beard, and the touch of grey hair on his temples lost in the raven-like strands.

He stood up, closing his book quickly and putting the fruit down on the table.

"You must be Y/N Y/L/N."

You frowned hard, but nodded.

"I am… how do you know…?"

"This is a secret place, we don't let anyone walk in just like that," he answered with a smile and a snap of his fingers.

"I see… What do you know about me, exactly?"

"Not much. Your name. That you came here alone from the other side of the world. But I'd be happy to learn why you were so eager to reach this place. Why don't you take a seat?"

He smiled at you again as he pointed at a chair.

"I still don't know your name," you noticed.

"Oh, of course," he nodded with that same polite smile still on his lips. "I'm Doctor Stephen Strange."

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

The plan was supposed to be simple.

Immobilize Thanos long enough to take off his gauntlet.

Combining everyone's capacities seemed the only chance of success. A teamwork upon which the survival of half the galaxy rested. You couldn't allow yourself to make any mistake, and you knew it.

But as you tried to use your sword to absorb the tidal wave of energy that was sent towards you by Thanos and that despite gathering all your strength, you were still sent flying against a rock behind you, you couldn't help but starting to be a bit pessimistic.

You winced at the sudden rush of pain that flooded across your whole abdomen as your back hit the sharp rock, the air leaving your lungs under the strength of the impact.

The sharp pain blurred your thoughts for a moment. You rested your hand on your chest to check for broken ribs, but couldn't feel any more pain. You guessed you were lucky enough.

"Y/N!"

You looked up at Stephen as he hurried towards you and rested a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm okay," you cut him off, nodding to reassure his worried mind.

"Are you sure?"

But you nodded again, sniffing and standing straighter once more.

Stephen reluctantly turned away, focusing on the task at hand once more. Although, you knew that he had something in his mind. You didn't know about his plan, but one thing was for certain: if his plan involved his death, you would not let it happen…

You used your ring to slow down Parker's fall as he was pushed away by a blast of energy as well. The boy gave you a nod, before running back towards danger and join the fray.

And you reckoned it was time for you to charge one more time as well.

You summoned a shield that you kept wrapped around one of your hands while the other wielded Dragonfang again.

Stark sent several explosives towards Thanos, detonations echoing all around you as flames twirled around the giant, but you ignored the fire and rushed onwards anyway.

An impulse freed by your ring made you levitate just enough to find yourself at eye-level with Thanos, and you rose your sword to strike…

But he seized your blade with his clothed hand and the strike never fell.

Although, despite all the strength he put in his will to break it, your blade was not damaged at all. You couldn't refrain a little smirk, grateful for the ancient knowledge who had moulded your blade for it to be unbreakable. You used your shield to hit Thanos hard in the face, making the giant stagger backwards and growl.

It was enough distraction to allow Stephen to summon a large magical rope to bind Thanos and imped his movements. Some webs sent by Parker joined the fray, along with some gadgets from Quill, and the strength of Drax as he held the alien's arm. You summoned the magic imprisoned in the White Light Ring around your thumb to control gravity and force Thanos's feet to remain stuck to the ground.

But the stones that were already imprisoned in his gauntlet were exponentially increasing his strength, and you struggled to keep him down, despite how powerful your artefact was…

Stephen used a portal to make Mantis fall on Thanos's shoulders, and she used her powers to calm him down, soothe his mind and relax his body.

Despite her control over his mind though, you knew that you had to keep on using your ring to keep motionless.

You threw a glimpse towards Stephen and caught his eyes as he was glancing in your direction as well. You both exchanged a nod. A silent gesture to let the other know that you were alright.

Fighting and often finding yourselves in dangerous situations had forced the two of you to develop a whole language of your own, made of nods and little signs and glances. You smiled at the thought of how close the two of you had become since that day when Wong had guided you to Kamar-Taj…

But you were soon brought back to the red dust of Titan as Stark and Parker struggled to take off his gauntlet.

Quill slowly walked closer to Thanos. His worry about Gamora came back to your mind, and you guessed that things would not go as smoothly as they could…

You turned to Parker and Stark, who still struggled to slip the gauntlet from Thanos's fingers.

"Take my sword!" you called Stark. "Take my sword and cut his arm!"

But Stark either ignored you and didn't pay attention to you, as he kept on pulling on the gauntlet.

You cursed through gritted teeth.

"Stark! My sword!"

He finally looked up at you, apparently thinking hard.

"CUT OFF HIS BLOODY ARM!" you shouted an order.

But right before Thanos, Quill was now on the verge of tears.

"Gamora?" you heard him whispering in a breath.

"Quill! Stay calm!" Stark tried to stop him.

But rage soon replaced pain on Quill's face, and you knew that no words that Stark could speak would stop Quill now…

"He came back from Vormir with the Stone, but not with Gamora," Nebula breathed behind you.

You looked at the woman for a moment, her blue skin mingled with metallic parts of her body painted in a similar colour. And you didn't know who she was or where she came from, but the fact that she fought Thanos and knew about this Gamora was enough for you to trust her for now.

By the pain in her voice and the hate on her features, you guessed that she was close enough to Gamora and that this woman they were looking for was dead. You looked at Quill again, who was shaking his head, tears shining in his eyes as he took a step back. His jaw was clenched enough to hurt as he tried to take the pain in, but failed miserably.

"Quill! You need to stay calm!" Stark grabbed the man's arm in an attempt to pull him away from Thanos.

But you knew that Quill was not about to give up so easily. His actions now were beyond reason, sorrow commanded his muscles instead of his brain and he couldn't care about the fate of the Universe anymore. How could he? He had lost what he loved the most…

Your brain raced for a solution, a way out of this… The ring asked too much strength and concentration for you to wield your sword around and cut Thanos's arm yourself. Stephen was still holding Thanos with the whips he had summoned…

You called for that kid again.

"Parker! The sword! Take my sword!"

"It's okay! Okay! I've got it!" he shouted back, and you saw indeed the metallic glove slowly slipping from your enemy's fingers. "I've got…"

But Quill had lost his self-control, his mind… everything… one more time…

The punch was too fast for Stark to stop it, and the hit shook Thanos out of his trance, Mantis letting go in a shout.

Parker didn't have enough time to get the gauntlet, and found himself pushed away from the fray…

In the blink of an eye you received another charge of energy that sent you flying even further than before, much further and higher actually…

The violence of the hit stole all the air from your lungs. Your head was spinning. You were too disorientated to fully register what had happened and what was happening…

This purple wave of energy, the impact, your feet leaving the ground, and flying, flying, falling…

You expected to crash on some heavy and sharp rocks by any time now. You could already hear the bones breaking as you collided with the red ground. But you were too stunned by Thanos's strike to gather enough focus to use your ring.

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the hard fall. Any second now, and your body would break upon the rocks like a boat shipwrecked on a cliff…

But the hard shock never came.

Instead, you fell the soft sensation of something warm wrapping around you, cradling you. You could feel that you were losing speed. And you didn't feel like falling either now, more like… floating… or levitating…

You lifted your eyelids again, and heaved a relieved sigh as you recognized Stephen's cloak wrapped around your frame. Instead of a rough crash onto the rocks, the cloak softly deposited you on the ground.

"Thank you," you breathed, running a hand on your chest again and detecting two broken ribs. "I'm alright, you should go back and help Stephen."

But the cloak levitated before you instead.

"Cape, go back to Stephen. I need a minute to catch my breath anyway."

You could feel a trail of blood flowing down the side of your face, and you wiped the warm liquid on your sleeve.

You had to gather your thoughts, get back to focus. But your mind kept on remaining blur, your body tricking you.

The cloak was still hesitantly hovering a few inches above the ground right before you, and you looked up at the piece of clothing with determined eyes despite your exhaustion.

"You have to protect Stephen. Now."

The cloak reluctantly flew away, but obeyed, and you were relieved to know that it would look after Stephen again instead of you.

Your head was spinning as you tried to sit up, the movement provoking a sharp pain across your chest. But then, every single intake of breath provoked daggers to pierce your abdomen. You heaved a sigh, drying the side of your face again as more blood had flooded across your skin. You could see from afar that the fight had resumed.

You recognized Stephen's shape lying on the ground in an instant, the cloak protectively wrapped around his motionless frame.

Your heart stumbled into your chest, fear making your eyes grow round…

You couldn't lose him…

You staggered back on your feet, ignoring your spinning head, the vivid headache that suddenly pierced your skull as if it shattered your very bones, the pain across your ribs… all those signs were ignored as you rushed towards the man you loved, with nothing but prayers on your lips.

Not him, not him, not him, not him…

You tripped and almost fell but your will to walk to him was too strong.

Not him, not him, not him…

In the distance, Stark was fighting Thanos on his own. You guessed that the rest of your companions were all wounded and out of the game. Although, even if it looked selfish, you couldn't find a way to worry about them. Stephen was filling all your thoughts.

Not him, not him, not him…

You fell next to him more than knelt by his side, ignoring the roughness of the rocks against your knees.

"Stephen!"

You shook him, softly at first in fear to hurt him, but when he didn't react at all, you shook him with much more vigour.

"Stephen!"

He let out a breathy moan, shaking his head to clear his mind.

"Stephen, can you hear me?"

He growled, turning on his back as he blinked. Your eyes scanned his body in search for traces of blood and injuries, but you couldn't see any trace of wounds, besides a cut on his head. But when you examined it, you found out that it was not too deep, but definitely enough to knock him out.

"I think I'm okay," he nodded slowly.

"You scared the shit out of me!" you admonished.

"Because you think that you didn't scare me with that stunt of yours?"

You ran your fingertips across his cheekbone, but Stephen was already focused on Thanos again. You felt his jaw clenching despite your soft touch, and you knew that you had lost this peaceful moment for good. He seemed scared again… but determined as well.

You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on Stark still fighting Thanos on his own, although he seemed in a bad situation, his armour partially destroyed.

Stephen tightly held your forearm.

"He can't die. He must live."

You nodded slowly, helping Stephen to sit up, before standing again. Your whole body was painful, your frame shaking slightly, but for now, the adrenaline was enough to keep you on your feet.

But when you took a step forward to join the fight, Stephen took your hand and stopped you.

"Don't."

"Stephen…"

"You'll die if you do."

You froze, your mind processing Stephen's statement. His voice was calm and soft, his trembling fingers tender as they held yours. And when you met his blue eyes, you knew that he was right.

"You saw it?" you asked in a shaking voice.

He slowly nodded.

"And I can't let you do this. You must live too."

"Because I'll be useful, or because of us?"

He gave you a sad smile.

"Both."

He tightened his hold on your hand.

"Trust me, and don't do anything. Do you hear me? Do not do anything. Let me handle it, no matter what may happen."

You frowned, but took a step back anyway, staying close to Stephen, not daring to go further on and help Stark. After all, the sorcerer told you that Stark couldn't die, so surely, he had a plan to save his life.

You looked at Stark again, just to catch him trying to stab Thanos, but your eyes quickly grew round…

Because Thanos grabbed the piece of metal, dodging Stark's strike, and in one swift movement, he planted the sharp object through Tony's abdomen.

You let out a gasp, freeing your hand from Stephen's hold.

"No!" you shouted, tearing Thanos's attention away from Stark, who staggered backwards and sat on a rock, his hand clasping his wound and his face covered with shock and pain.

"Y/N!" Stephen called behind you, but you ignored him, taking a step towards Thanos.

You couldn’t let this man die…

The words Stephen had spoken to you earlier that day came back to your mind.

We are talking about trillions of lives, Y/N! Mine is not important in the balance…

You slowly turned towards Stephen, understanding at last a part of his plan.

He was ready to die to make sure that Stark and you lived. But you would not let that happen. You couldn't let him die… you were not sure to be able to live without him…

It's not about me, Y/N. It's never been about me.

But to you it was…

You ignored Stephen as he called after you, and merely walked towards Thanos. But you didn't reach him.

You found yourself entangled with ropes summoned by the man you loved, and you fell to the ground in a thud.

"Stephen!" you shouted at him, but he ignored you, his eyes fixed on Thanos, as your enemy turned to Stark again.

"Spare him," the sorcerer called, calling for Thanos's attention again. "Spare them both. It's enough. I'll give you the stone if you let them live."

Your eyes grew round and your jaw dropped in shock. Surely, he couldn't be serious…

"No trick or magic…" Thanos started, but you loudly protested, fighting against your bonds.

"Stephen! You can't do that!"

He gave you a loving smile, his eyes filled with affection. But he didn't reply, merely turning to Thanos again.

But he didn't need to speak for you to read the farewell in his eyes… Somehow, if he gave the stone to Thanos, you knew that he would die… perhaps in an attempt to stop him before he would disappear, perhaps in a trap he would set… you didn't know how, but you knew the truth anyway. Stephen was about to die. Just as he had predicted.

And you couldn't let that happen.

"No magic tricks," he shook his head. "You have my word."

You struggled against the ropes, summoning all your strength. You used your ring to absorb the energy of the bonds, but it was too slow to your liking.

You had no idea what Stephen was doing, but whatever he was attempting to accomplish was a huge mistake. The Time Stone was too powerful…

Thanos nodded, and Stephen raised his hand, the green stone appearing between his fingers for him to seize.

"Stephen! What are you doing?!"

But once again, he ignored you.

"No! NO!"

The stone slowly started to fly towards Thanos.

But the bonds around you were not that strong anymore. With a loud shout, you ignored the pain that ran through your chest because of your broken ribs, and broke the ropes that imprisoned you. Thanos extended his arm towards the emerald-like stone, but you summoned a magical protection for your skin and you seized the stone as it flew next to you. Thanos let out a shout, but before he could close his fist, you had seized your sword on your back and had traced a deep cut across his shoulder.

He screamed with rage and wrath, and his eyes rested on you and Stephen with hate and disgust.

"You will regret this treachery!" he promised. "You and your world!"

Before you could raise your sword to strike again, Thanos had plunged the piece of metal through Stark again, who let out a grunt and fell to the ground in a thud. You were a few feet away from him, but it didn't matter, even from where you stood, you could see that Iron Man was dead…

The next second, Thanos had disappeared in a portal he had summoned through the Tesseract, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

The second the portal closed you started to notice the burning sensation in your hand. You guessed that this protective layer you had magically created was not enough to counter the effects of the Time Stone in your hand. You could feel the burning feeling progressing through your entire arm in a matter of seconds. The exhaustion you had been pushing away to force yourself to act seemed to crush you like a tidal wave, and you couldn’t fight it any more.

You fell to your knees, your hand shaking as you tightened your grip on the little glimmering thing, too afraid to lose the infinity stone to let go despite the burning pain that ran through your entire arm by now.

"What were you thinking?"

You looked up as Stephen kneeled next to you. But there was nothing but horror in his eyes.

"Y/N! I told you to trust me!"

"You were about to give the stone to Thanos…"

He clenched his jaw, but didn't reply when he saw you wincing.

"Stark needed to survive," he breathed as he touched your fingertips to make you open your hand.

He used magic to hold the Time Stone again, but the pain didn't stop when the little rock left your hand.

"Just go back in time and save him then," you breathed.

You winced again as your skin kept on burning. When you looked down at your palm, you saw the red traces that the stone had left, and you guessed that the burn would leave a scar.

"I can't, Y/N. It was the only way!"

"I can't believe that the only way to save the Galaxy was to give Thanos the power to destroy it!"

When he looked into your eyes, Stephen could read that indeed, you didn't believe him. You still thought there was another way.

He had no choice then. He hated the idea of bringing such trauma upon you. He had taken the pain that came with the sight of what could happen. He didn't want you to carry this burden as well. He knew that even if his plan worked and you lived through all this, even if you managed to defeat Thanos, the vision of this reality you had created for a moment would never leave your nightmares. But he didn't have a choice…

"Then, I guess I'll have to show you the consequences of your actions, Y/N. Then… perhaps you will believe me when I tell you that giving the stone to Thanos and save Stark was the only way."

**************************************

Tag list : @markusstraya @cha0tic-neutral @itsilvermorny @magical-spit @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @bloodingqueen @shenanigans-and-imagines @stephenvincetstrange @leximus98 @rishlo @theshortegg @ponycake27 @mxrihollxnd @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki

#doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange fanfic #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange fanfic #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #infinity war #infinity war fanfic #infinity war imagine #imagine #fanfic #writing

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trbl-will-find-me · 7 years ago

Text

Every Exit, An Entrance (25/?)

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option.

“No!” Someone yells from behind her.

She turns around in time to see Steph Royston, two dresses slung over her arm, stalking through the Common Room with Isabella Molchetti in hot pursuit.

“Yes!” Royston counters. “I don’t know which one looks better. I want another opinion.”

“He’s not supposed to---“

“We live in the same tiny space, Molchetti. He’s gonna see before. Besides, it’s a silly superstition. We survived an alien invasion; he’ll survive seeing me in the dresses.”

“It’s bad---“

“It’s also bad luck to be mind controlled by aliens twice, yet here we are.”

She watches the scene with a sort of fond amusement pulling at her lips. Despite her icy demeanor on the field, Molchetti had quickly revealed herself as the closet romantic in the aftermath of Edouard’s proposal.

Quietly, she suspects the sniper is the only reason Royston has even given thought to anything other than the date and her vows.

“Do you really want to tempt fate?”

Royston stops dead. “Are you telling me you think there is something worse out there than an alien invasion? Really?”

Molchetti rolls her eyes. “I am telling you I believe in stacking the deck.”

“Commander,” Royston implores. “Please tell Molchetti that my fiancé seeing my in a wedding dress will not unleash a renewed wave of alien hellfire upon our heads.”

“If it does, we better hope the hellfire gives us a few weeks. Firestorm construction keeps getting delayed in favor of other emergencies, and we still don’t have global coverage.”

“See?” Molchetti crows.

“Oh my god,” Royston groans. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“I can’t believe you want him to see you in the dress.”

“There isn’t even a dress yet!”

“It’s one of these two.”

“You’ve seen. Dev’s seen. Pukkila has seen. Hell, Lan has seen. I am still no closer to deciding which very expensive dress I’m going to wear for one day and then never again.”

“So unromantic.”

“Practical,” Royston insists. “I’m practical.”

“Get her opinion.”

“Mine?” The Commander asks.

“Your grandparents owned a bridal shop, didn’t they?”

“My grandfather did, yeah. But I never picked up his eye for it. I was always better with menswear.”

“Menswear?”

“Grandmother was a tailor. She did a lot of bespoke work.”

“You must have picked up something,” Molchetti insists.

“I guess? I can tell you if it’s well made, but I don’t think that’s the issue at hand.”

“Good enough.” Molchetti turns her attention back to Royston. “Show her.”

“Show … ma’am, don’t have you have better things to do?”

“Yeah, but so do you. Faster you solve the dress question, the better it is for all involved.”

The bride-to-be sighs. “That’s … fair. But this is still ridiculous.”

“Complain after you have the dress on,” Molchetti chides. “Andiamo!”

She can’t be certain, but she thinks she hears Royston mutter something along the lines of meshugganah under her breath as she stalks away.

The first dress is pretty yes, all lacey and delicate, but it’s far too stuffy and swallows Steph whole, an angry imp consumed by taffeta.

The second is much better, liquid silk with graceful lines, the kind of dress you could hide a dagger under. She seems more at ease in it, more herself.

“That one,” the Commander says. “Hands down.”

“You don’t think it’s too under---“

“You heard the woman, Molchetti,” Royston insists. “This one it is.”

Someone lets out a low appreciative whistle, and the women turn towards the sound. Martin and Bernard stand in the doorway.

“Oui. Celle-là,” Martin says. “T’es belle.”

Royston beams as Molchetti launches into a string of Italian profanities.

She is not there when he makes the call, does not know what he says. She takes his place on the bridge, and he takes her quarters. He is still sober when he emerges, half an hour later, mission accomplished.

Questions claw at her. There is so much she wants to know, so much she wishes she could ask.

But she doesn’t.

They sit at the bar late that night during the shift change from second to third. He has switched from vodka to beer, though his hands still shake. Resistance radio yammers on in the background, and while she’ll take the DJ’s inanities over the Speaker’s, she’d still like to shut it off.

Central beats her to it, tapping the off button with the bottom of his glass.

“Thank you,” she signs, tension beginning to drain from her shoulders.

“He means well.”

“I appreciate the enthusiasm. The death metal impressions are a different story.”

“Never was your taste.”

“Or yours.”

He chuckles and they slip back into a silence, one that feels less and less tense each time it settles.

“Thank you,” she ventures, “for the crates, by the way. It’s nice to have a few familiar things around.”

“Sorry it took so long.”

She shrugs. “There’s a lot to keep track of with everything going on. I was surprised you could save as much as you did.”

“The base aged alright. And I had help --- Sally still had some of Steph’s access codes.”

“But getting it all out from Kansas?”

“That was the trick. A lot of careful driving.”

“And getting it across the ocean?”

“A lot of bargaining.”

“How’d you do it, anyway?”

“Navy friends ignored an order to stand down after U-Day. Rallied the crew, commandeered the ship, and starting running counter ops. Virginia class, built for stealth. They were the ones who got us across.”

“And ADVENT didn’t notice?”

“They don’t pay a lot of attention to what they can’t see. One of the few advantages of travel by submarine.”

She lets out a long, low whistle. “That was gutsy.”

“They ran a good ship. Was harder on Sally than anyone else.”

“Claustrophobic?”

He nods. “And afraid of the ocean, to boot.”

She lets out a pained hiss. “I’m sure that was a fun experience for all involved.”

“She spent most of the trip curled up in her bunk, trying to sleep or reading. Tommy bribed her out with oranges once he realized she had a taste for’em.”

“What about you?”

“There’s a reason I got out of submarines, Regan. You know that.”

She nods. “That’s about what I figured.”

He volunteers nothing about his earlier conversation and she does not ask. She gave him a job, and he did it. She is certain that he has not condemned their men to a week of alien tartare and that any additional terms were agreed to of his own volition. She has no right to ask.

But then he brings it up.

“Look, it’s not my business, but what are you playing at with the Reapers?” She swirls the water in her glass. “If I said a stronger alliance…”

“I’d say I know an ulterior motive when I see one.”

She nods. “I need a way to make Volk fall in line. I don’t get that kind of leverage without good intel.” “And the best intel comes face-to-face. You think you’ll get something out of him?” “No, but I think if you give soldiers the time and means to blow off steam, they’ll come back with better information than they realize.”

“Then what? Debrief everyone individually? Might blow your cover.”

She shrugs. “I play enough poker and throw enough darts. It’s not that hard to get people talking.”

He nods. “Not on this ship.”

They have always had strategy meetings.

Once upon a time, they were formal things, around conference tables in office buildings, the kind of thing whose purpose no one could dispute. Once they started traveling, those meetings became, by necessity, far less formal; a casual observer might have easily mistook one for a date, a young couple abroad on some romantic getaway.

That all changed when XCOM activated, a stark turn towards late nights and casualty projections glaring at them from too bright screens, a grim ritual.

And now, the nature of those meetings has changed yet again.

She watches him dress from under the blankets: boxers, undershirt, shirt, slacks, belt, tie, watch, sweater. Her own clothes lay discarded on the floor nearby.

“Netherlands and Czech Republic have started taking notice. They’ve got their people reaching to see what’s out there.”

She nods. “Any more on New Zealand or Ireland?”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t encourage New Zealand. Too much a risk bumping up against Australian intel.”

“And you think there isn’t that proximity with Ireland and the UK?”

“I think Ireland has a vested interest in keeping Westminster out of its business.”

“Fair,” she concedes.

“Bahrain and Jordan are also interested.”

“Bahrain? Did they even get hit?”

He shakes his head. “But they’d be a good partner.”

“I have … concerns.”

“Post-oil economy. They’re stable.”

“That’s not what’s giving me pause.”

He stops and looks at her. “You can’t afford to have moral qualms right now. If we’re approached by Saudi Arabia, you can’t turn them down.”

She rolls over, and buries her head under the pillow.

She knows he is right, that if their plan is going to work, they’ll need to be as well funded as possible. She also holds no illusions about the moral rectitude of their current funding nations --- she does not get to pick and choose among moral atrocities.

“This didn’t bother you the first time around?”

“First time?” She asks, flipping over again. “First time, I was the messenger. It wasn’t my call. I was hired to do a job --- I knew I couldn’t convince the powers that be. But now it’s on me. I’m the powers that be.”

“You have a responsibility to this organization. It’s not about you.”

“But it is! Leaders set the tone. They say ‘this is what we won’t stand for.’”

He lowers himself onto the bunk next to her. “They also make choices they don’t like. They’re big picture people.”

She sighs. “This all seemed so brilliant on paper.”

“Reality’s always messier. There’ll always be things you can’t avoid. You just do what you have to do to get by.”

“Sometimes, I hate when you’re right.”

“Welcome to being in charge,” he says, voice gentle.

She rolls her eyes. “And here I was, thinking it would be easier once we’d dealt with the aliens.”

“Easier? No. Different? Yes.”

She reaches up a hand, and brushes her finger against the stubble lining his jaw. He turns his head and presses a kiss to her palm.

“You got through the invasion,” he reassures her. “You’ll get through this.”

They touch down in a clearing not far from the Reaper’s main camp and, briefly, she wishes for illness. She’s not sure what ever made her think this was a good idea, that she would be able to endure prolonged exposure to Volk. What was it her mother used to say?

The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.

She screws her eyes shut.

You did this to yourself, she thinks. You dug the pit, you jumped in, and now this is your best way to claw your way out.

The ship’s engines die down and she draws in a breath. Get off the train tracks, Regan.

The problem is not yet imminent. She still has time to gather her composure and steel her temper against the coming confrontation.

There are checklists to be completed, inspections to be made, crates to be loaded and unloaded, supplies to be gathered. The dinner is a joint effort, a mutual demonstration –or is it performance, she muses– of their newly minted alliance.

She will make this work; she has no other option.

The scouting team is not expected back for another several days. She will avoid an incident for at least that long. She will find things to do. She will make herself useful. She will keep her head down, and give Central and the crew room to work. She will not sabotage this.

The phrase “responsibility to the organization” floats through her mind. She shakes her head. It sounds like something her father would say, or maybe Central --- maybe not this Central, but certainly the one she once knew, the one who she sometimes catches a glimpse of, fleeting as it may be.

She thinks he might be under there after all, if he could ever put the bottle down.

It’s a problem for another day.

Her eyes settle on the three hard drives stacked next to her terminal keyboard. She rises from her spot on the couch and picks them up, picking at the duct tape on the bottom of one.

There’s nothing especially important on the drives, nothing that will strengthen their position against ADVENT. There are no plans for a secret weapon, no emergency fallbacks.

But, god, she’d kill for some music. For all that sound carries on board the ship, it is still far too quiet for her tastes.

She makes her way from her quarters, down to Engineering. She almost feels silly asking, especially in the face of far more important work, but the drives don’t do anyone any good just sitting on her terminal, collecting dust.

Lily is busy tinkering with a GREMLIN when she enters. “Commander,” she offers, looking up. “I’ve … got a favor to ask you. It’s not a priority.”

The Chief Engineer nods. “Alright.”

She sets the hard drives down on the worktable. “I know they’re old, but if you can pull the data off, I’d appreciate it.

Lily picks one up and turns it over in her hands. “Any damage?”

“Not that I know of. I just don’t know if you can make the systems talk to each other.”

The younger woman nods. “It’s not hard. Give me a few days, Commander. I’ll get it done.”

#every exit an entrance #fic #commander/central

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sapphicscholar · 7 years ago

Note

Could you write a fic where all of the Superfriends (starting with Alex) get turned into the animals of their Hogwarts Houses? (For instance, Alex would be turned into a snake.) probably due to an alien virus or something, or alien tech, or any other reason you can think of.

Re: the prompt with the Superfriends turning into their House animals: that could be done via magic too, and maybe would make more sense to do it that way since why would a random alien know about Harry Potter, right? Maybe Mxy decides to play more pranks. (I think fifth dimensional imps are magic. Probably) I dunno.

Just posted on AO3

A/N: So, since I had requests for more Hogwarts AU, I went ahead and aged them up to make them HP AU adults for this one to make sense – apologies that not all the superfriends are here, but I went with the crew most likely to be found at the downtown base of the DEO minus J’onn (you’ll see why soon enough). Hopefully this works for ya!

Also…holy crap, I’ve never felt more high without being high nor been more grateful for having immersed myself in the world of Animal Studies and read (and reread) Donna Haraway or Thomas Nagel’s “What Is it Like to Be a Bat?” Also…learned SO MANY animal facts.

Chapter Text:

“Wake up,” Maggie hissed, nudging Alex with her elbow.

“Huh?” Startled, Alex jerked awake, her quill streaking a dark scratch across her notebook.

Rolling her eyes, Maggie waved her wand and wordlessly erased the extra ink so that Alex would be able to read her notes, not that they said much she didn’t already know.

“Your fault I’m this tired,” Alex murmured back, pulling a smirk and a low chuckle from Maggie.

“Didn’t hear you complaining last night…”

“Danvers! Sawyer! Is there something more important right now than your first day of work?”

“No, Director J’onzz,” Alex replied, looking appropriately bashful even if she knew he only said something to avoid the appearance of favoritism. She caught Kara’s expression as she spun around to stick her tongue out at her. It suddenly felt like the few years they’d spent together in muggle school before beginning at Hogwarts, back when her mom had managed to convince the school that Kara would be more comfortable being in classes with her big sister whenever possible.

“As I was saying,” J’onn continued, “today marks your first day as a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s Auror Office. You have all proven yourselves worthy through years of study and testing, but I warn you against thinking that might be enough on its own. None of you will be allowed into the field until you have completed your first year of intensive training. From here on out, you should think of your task force like your family. You will eat together, train together, and, when the time comes, go out into the field together.”

“Like Hogwarts houses!” Kara chimed in.

“Yes, Ms. Danvers,” J’onn admitted, dipping his head and trying not to let his smile at her chipper demeanor show.

“Or like the muggle military…” Alex trailed off, not wanting to be outdone.

“Yes, Ms. Danvers…the elder. Given the rigorous nature of this training, that is, perhaps, the more apt comparison.” Alex arched an eyebrow at Kara in challenge when J’onn turned to pace in front of the room. “Now your task force captains will take you for the rest of the day for some team bonding and an overview of your next few weeks of training. I ask that you give them your full attention and respect.”

The new recruits nodded and quickly moved to gather their belongings before finding their teams. Alex and Maggie sauntered over to where James, Kara, and Winn had already gathered, then followed them down the hallway to their assigned meeting room.

“I’m so glad we’re all together!” Kara squealed, nearly bouncing in excitement as she carefully stacked her belongings on one corner of the small conference table.

“More like glad that J’onn likes us enough to let us all be on the same team,” Alex corrected her, sinking down into a seat and pulling at Maggie’s hand to try to get her to join her.

“It’s a shame Vasquez couldn’t come with us,” Winn sighed. Sure, Vasquez liked pulling pranks on him every now and then, but they had gotten close over the years at Hogwarts, and he would miss seeing her every day.

“I’m sure she’ll find some way to amuse herself with Lucy out at the East Coast branch…” Maggie trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as she leaned into Alex’s side. James rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to find the right expression that showed how supportive he was of his ex-girlfriend’s newest relationship without looking overly enthusiastic either.

“Recruits!” came a booming voice, and Alex felt her posture straighten as she looked for the source of the sound. “I am Auror Potter—no, no relation, and you would do well not to ask. I’ll be your task force captain for the next year. I expect you to show up to work on time each morning and be ready to give me 110 %. I don’t promise this will be fun, but if you follow my lead, at the end of it, I promise you’ll be ready to go out into the field alongside the very best we have to offer.” He surveyed the group of them, trying to place the faces to the bios he’d received from the Department.

“Winn Schott!” he called out, smiling to himself when the smaller boy stumbled forward, quickly righting himself as he saluted.

“No salutes necessary, Schott.”

“Oh, uh, right.”

“We’ll go around and do brief introductions – I want to know what you all bring to this team. You can start.”

“Yes, sir!” With a deep breath, Winn began, “I, uh, I spent the last year doing some tech work with the Muggle Relations Division. We—er, muggles, I mean—they have certain kinds of technology, like, they have portable phones instead of two-way mirrors or floo powder calls. Anyway, some of them had found ways of using technology to detect our presence—finding signs of life in places we had hidden from their view, the like. I worked on creating measures to combat detection” Alex looked beyond intrigued, though Maggie just bit back a laugh at how amazed everyone seemed by muggle technology. She’d grown up around it and, if truth be told, still thought some of it was vastly preferable; she’d take a text over the dizziness of spinning her head into a friend’s fireplace any day, though of course, with so few muggle friends left, she rarely had a choice in the matter.

“Given the nature of your position on our team, you’ll be spending part of your training with our codebreakers and the rest of your time with your team,” Potter explained to Winn, who nodded and sat back in his seat when it was clear that his part was done.

“Danvers?”

Alex looked up, while Kara jumped to her feet, smiling broadly.

“Ah, right…the sisters.” Kara and Alex glanced at each other, wondering how much J’onn might have mentioned to their captain, who looked very much like he was trying not to smile. “We’ll start with Alexandra.”

“It’s Alex, sir.”

“Noted.”

“Well, I took some time off after graduating from Hogwarts before beginning the Auror Training Program to travel. I went and worked studying magical creatures—their physiology, magical properties, uses in healing. But I’m back now and excited about my work here.”

“Suck up,” Maggie whispered, stifling a laugh at the annoyed expression that flashed across Alex’s features.

“It says here you specialized in dragons?”

“Mhm,” Alex confirmed with a nod.

“Interesting…could come in handy.” Alex grinned. “Now Kara, you’re fresh out of Hogwarts, right?”

“I am, but I am more than ready!”

Potter couldn’t help a small smile at her enthusiasm. “You wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think you were qualified. Next up: James Olsen.”

James raised his hand a bit in acknowledgement. “I know I’m a bit…older than most of the new aurors, but I just…I liked my career at the Daily Prophet, but I couldn’t help but feel like there were ways I could be better at serving the community, doing more good than what I could do behind a desk or a camera.”

“I didn’t start out as an auror myself,” Potter admitted with a small shrug of his shoulders. “No right or wrong way to get here. Well…I wouldn’t recommend floo powder, actually. The department’s fireplaces are rather small—personally I almost always end up banging my head on the way out.” He turned to Maggie, the last on his list. “And last but not least: Magdalena Sawyer.”

“Maggie,” she clarified. “Yeah, I spent the past couple of years traveling with Alex, though I was working as an apprentice to a wandmaker.”

“Ah, which one?”

“Violetta Beauvais’ granddaughter.”

“Interesting choice. Not Ollivander?”

Shaking her head, Maggie cleared her throat, figuring there was always going to be the moment of outing at any new job. “No, I, uh, I wanted to support a woman working in a male-dominated industry. Plus, she’s a queer woman and all—felt like we would work well together.”

Alex managed to cover her small snort of laughter with a cough. “Felt like you would work well under her is more like it,” Alex whispered when Potter turned his attention to the board in the front of the room.

“Didn’t hear you complaining that New Year’s Eve we all spent together,” Maggie taunted, stopping only when she caught sight of Kara’s scandalized look. Turning her attention back to the front of the room, Maggie heard their captain saying something about team-building exercises. She tried not to groan at the idea as he motioned for them all to follow him down to one of the training rooms.

“And this is the one,” he finally announced. “Now hand me your wands.”

Slowly but surely they handed them over, though Alex eyed him suspiciously, wondering if this were some kind of test. It seemed like they should know better than to leave themselves defenseless, though she eventually relented.

“Head into the room.” James led the way, looking around to try to figure out what their first exercise might be. The room was fairly plain: one table, one small window, and a few chairs. “Your task will be to escape.” Winn furrowed his eyebrows, looking between the captain and the unlocked very much open door. “Ah, we’ll be locking you in here. The key will be directly outside of the door.” They looked between themselves, shrugging. It didn’t seem a particularly difficult challenge. “Once you escape, you will need to retrieve a set of three small sensors.”

“How will we know where to look for them?” Kara asked.

“You’ll know,” he answered, dismissing further questions with a wave of his hand. “You’ll have half an hour.”

Even with the two tasks, it still seemed rather doable. Their confident expressions soon gave way as a team of aurors—all slightly older—approached, a few of them not bothering to hide their smirks. After all, it wasn’t every day they got to haze the newbies. In unison they raised their wands then brought them swishing down. With five flashes of light and a few cut-off cries of surprise, they stepped back, locking the door behind them with a loud laugh. Left behind in the room were five sets of robes and five animals—two confused badgers, one coiled snake, one squawking eagle, and one massive lion.

Alex found herself enveloped in darkness, and she fought to see in front of her. Her senses were suddenly overwhelmed with the sound and feel of low vibrations, and she surged forward, feeling as her whole body slithered, moving forward in one lithe, curling movement. Eventually she felt her head emerge from the cloth. Acting on instinct, Alex let her tongue dart out from her mouth, though she had to admit, nothing quite felt like a mouth or tongue in the sense that she knew. But as she did, she was overwhelmed with the scents of animals that she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have recognized by smell before this moment. She spun around and was struck by the startling outlines of the animals she smelled—two smallish badgers, both of whom somehow smelled familiar; a bird that she watched flutter about; and a lion that seemed to be pacing the room. Hit with a desperate need for warmth, she slithered toward the ray of sunlight illuminating one small square of the room. She would think once she was warm.

Maggie and Kara clawed at their robes, and once Maggie was free, she took off toward the scent of another badger and came to stand beside her. Kara tried to look forward but found she could barely see at all. She suspected this would make the task significantly harder, though she found that she could smell everything. Maggie sniffed the air, finding the scent of something that seemed intensely familiar. She waddled across the room, noting the clicking of long nails. That was quite the change from the usual, she laughed to herself. As she got closer to the smell, she could feel her fur raising, but she tamped down on the instinct to treat as prey and possible dinner what smelled and looked, in its vague outline, like a snake, trying to remind herself that what she knew from before needed to outweigh any animal urges. As a large beast lumbered toward her and the snake that for some reason she felt compelled to protect, Maggie’s lips curled back and she pushed her claws forward, her hips and hindquarters raising slightly as she let out a loud hiss.

James reared back at the small but somehow intimidating creature in front of him, crouching and letting off a fairly repugnant odor. He thought perhaps he was the only one from the group left as he pawed at the ground, letting out a small growl of annoyance that had another one of the creatures raising its nose in the air and turning in his direction. He wondered if his new form would be able to simply knock the door forward. With as much of a running start as he could manage in the small room, he lunged forward, finding himself flung backwards with what he could only assume was magical force. So the door was out.

Winn fluttered nervously above the others, looking down at the sight below him. He swooped in high circles above the room, eventually coming to roost on the narrow windowsill after one mistaken attempt at crashing through the glass pane. As he looked through it, he was astounded at just how far he could see, looking out over the treetops and well into the surrounding neighborhood. He wondered if they’d ever make it out of the room and watched as the lion was sent sprawling back across the stone floor.

Despite her instincts screaming at her to flee, Alex found herself slithering under the badger that had come over to her, basking in the warmth of the thick fur. Maggie lowered her already short body down.

Across the room, Kara dug desperately at the floor, finding even her thick, long claws futile against the weathered stones.

Noting the attempts of many of those around him to help, James reasoned they might actually be his team. In an attempt to get their attention, he let out a loud roar, unaware of the crowd of aurors that had gathered outside the enchanted door who flung themselves back at the sound.

Alex popped her head up at the sound, having felt it vibrate and rumble across the ground. She hissed back, as did the two badgers, and the eagle let out a squawk. Oh. Oh! As she watched the other badger dig and the lion lunge at the walls and the eagle fly into the window for a second time, she realized that perhaps this was her team. She hadn’t been transported into some other dimension. She darted her tongue out, flicking it against the side of the face of the badger who she’d been cuddling, and somehow, she wasn’t sure how, she just knew it was Maggie. And oh! Badgers. Two of them. That smelled like home. Because they were home. Because they were Maggie and Kara. Because they were Hufflepuffs. And she was a snake because she was a Slytherin. Which made the charging lion James and the now perched eagle Winn. And oh dear god they were never getting out of here.

But James’ roar seemed to help everyone gradually realize that they were still a team. A team without language or opposable thumbs, but a team goddammit. Having seen James repelled from the door and having watched Kara’s vain attempts at digging through the floor, Alex slithered around the perimeter, finding herself slamming face first into the walls a few more times than she would have liked. Eventually, though, she made it back, disappointed in the lack of any cracks she could exploit.

Realizing his squawks weren’t attracting much attention compared to the roar, Winn tapped loudly against the glass pane of the window. His beak wasn’t going to crack it, but at least he hadn’t been magically forced backward, which must mean something. Eventually he flapped down, settling on James’ back and finally catching his attention. He flew back and forth between James and the window until he finally caught the motion and seemed to understand.

James sat back on his haunches, regarding the window. It was small—much too small for him to fit through. He suspected if he lunged forward, he’d catch the stone wall before he ever had the opportunity to smash through the glass. But then he felt a cold thing twisting around his paw, and as he raised his arm to shake it off, he felt it coil tightly around him before two small fangs sunk into him, and he let out a loud mewl of pain.

Alex would have rolled her eyes if she could have. She barely even bit him, but at least she had his attention. Once he settled down and Alex uncurled herself from his front paw, he finally seemed to catch her meaning and backed up as far as he could in the small room, lunging forward paw first at the window as soon as Winn had flown away from it. The first time it wavered but didn’t crack. The second time he heard the sound of the glass splintering, though it didn’t give way. And finally it crashed through. He bounded back with a yelp of pain, sitting back and licking at his paw, attempting to knock the small shards of glass out.

Meanwhile, Winn flew out through the broken window, allowing himself just a few moments of freedom as he swooped and soared over the trees before flying back to the building and darting in through the front door. He ducked and swerved out of the way of the other Ministry employees, watching with glee as they squealed in surprise and dove out of his path. Eventually he made it into an elevator, perching patiently on the railing as the wizards and witches who were unlucky enough to be with him regarded him warily. When they made it up to his floor he flew down the hallway, catching sight of the glinting key and hooking it with his claws before soaring back out the way he came and finally returning with the key. He managed to push it into the small lock, though he found himself unable to turn it.

Alex hissed until Winn finally landed near her, and she slithered up his body, winding himself around his neck and pushing at his beak until he finally lifted her up. Once more, she wrapped herself around the key, twisting until it turned with her, finally hearing the satisfying click as the door popped open. James rushed forward, nosing the door all the way open, and a snuffling Kara and Maggie followed close behind, running into a few walls as they went. Maggie wondered if this was how Alex felt without her glasses. Once they were out of the room, which, Maggie reasoned, must have been somehow enchanted, Maggie and Kara found their ears assaulted with a loud beeping. The sensors, Kara thought. Potter had told her they would know how to find them. Of course, being able to hear them didn’t make the lack of proper vision any less of an issue.

Between Winn and James, however, they had enough vision and size for the group of them, and they followed their impromptu pack leaders through the halls of the Ministry, delighting in hissing, nipping, and growling at the more senior aurors as they passed. Eventually Winn led them outside, and Maggie and Kara got straight to work, running as fast as their short legs could take them to the sound of the beeping that seemed to be coming from the heart of the grounds that surrounded the building. Suddenly feeling useful, Kara dove nose and claws first into a patch of dirt, burrowing until she latched onto the beeping sensor. A few yards away, Maggie did the same, feeling grateful she’d been able to do something other than help to keep Alex warm during their team mission.

With two of the three sensors gathered, the team followed the noise—whether felt as vibrations or heard as a grating sound—over to one of the gnarled old trees. James pawed at it, but found nothing. Kara and Maggie dug around the perimeter of it, only to find that the deeper into the ground they got, the further away they were from the sound. Eventually they turned to Alex, who slithered her way up the tree, attempting to focus on the feeling of the vibrating sounds, tracing them to a small crack in the trunk that she managed to wedge herself into, finally getting to what she was fairly certain was a sensor—not that it gave off any kind of heat for her infrared vision to catch it. After multiple attempts to angle herself properly to nose it out of the tree, Alex gritted her teeth (in theory, she couldn’t do much with a pair of fangs) and opened her jaw wide, fitting the whole thing into her mouth and praying it wouldn’t kill her when she turned back into a human.

With the three sensors in (figural) hands, they made their way back to the building, feeling every bit the part of the heroic team even if they didn’t look it.

“Two whole minutes to spare. Very impressive,” Potter greeted them at the entrance, watching as two clawed paws deposited sensors at his feet, and a snake unhinged its jaw, managing to get the sensor back out of its mouth. “Now back to the room with you!”

They all followed dutifully, finding the group of slightly older aurors waiting for them, wands at the ready. Once they had been shepherded back into their initial locked room, they were hit with transfiguration spells once more before the door locked—for their privacy, they soon realized, as they stumbled forward human once more but clothed no longer. Alex and Winn quickly threw on their robes, as did Maggie and Kara, whose attire littered with small, badger teeth-sized holes chewed across them but was at least passable. James, however, stood in the corner, clutching Winn in front of him like a shield. His robes lay in tatters; they hadn’t quite withstood the challenge of accommodating a lion, though he didn’t think Madame Malkin would accept that as an excuse for a return.

When Potter returned and tossed back their wands, Kara was kind enough to magic James’ robes back together before turning her attention to the small holes in her own, while Maggie patched up the damage she had wrought on hers.

“So…you passed day one.” Potter looked between them, gauging their reactions. “How does it feel?”

There were a few long moments of silence before Winn finally spoke up, his voice cracking slightly as he asked, “That’s day one?”

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starboyjxmin · 7 years ago

Text

Starboy Pt. 1

Synopsis: There wasn’t much to think about once you saw his glowing blue undertone skin and the golden brown hair that could have easily resembled your hash browns from earlier that day. Much less could you prepare for the his strange sounds emitting from his mouth and how his coffee orbs seemed to be hypnotic.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Vulgar Language. Bit of Angst

Genre: Romance, Alien!Jimin, Sci-Fi

Word Count: 6,618

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Futurama is a piece of shit. It didn’t help you at all when this literal Starboy came crashing down in the local cemetery at night when you were there telling your parents good night.

“Sir, sir,” You were clearly beyond enraged at this point as you were trying very hard to not veer into oncoming traffic in the opposite lane to you but it was a bit of a challenge given that the man next to you in the passenger seat was trying desperately to rip the seat belt off of him.

“You do not understand, you retched imp!” He began to thrash against the seat. It was getting worse than when you had helped him out of the crater he had created in the cemetery. Much to your horror you had found him shouting, no, screeching in what seemed as horrid ear piercing octaves to the already exploded coffins he had hit, with decaying flesh all over him and bones as well.

“Stop doing that please or else there will be no way I can help you at all.” You breathed out through your clenched teeth. He stopped momentarily with fragments of the graying skin, evident that what you had previously seen was no nightmare but in fact a reality, still decorating him through out as he turned to you oddly.

“I am the Prince of Aquerio, and if you do so much as even breathe near me, which you quite have, swine,” He sneered at you, leaving you utterly surprised. But you continued to drive, wondering why the hell you had ever gone to see what had caused the tremor in the graveyard and actually pulled out what seems like a Hollywood zombie, instead of running away like any sane person would. “I will have you executed in such a horrid fashion!” You rolled your eyes.

“Listen here, Prince of the Undead,” Your eyes never left the road. “You reek of death, I’m going to have to have Taehyung clean this car thoroughly tomorrow even if he wants to throw a tantrum, but I am trying to help you out so please, stay still. I’m almost home.” The man was actually rather tall but shift his upper body back to facing the front window.

“But how ma-”

“God! Where is your off button!?”

“You brought what?” Taehyung was unfazed by the slivers of obvious rotten flesh adoring the man you had brought home.

“A hook up.” You pulled the man away from Taehyung who was giving him a rather intent glare.

“Are you attracted to serial killers, (Y/N)?” He didn’t care that you had once brought home a pot head who made the house stink of weed for a week, because he knew it wasn’t his place to tell you who you could or couldn’t fuck. He wasn’t in Korea anymore, he couldn’t tell you, despite being younger, what to do. He had tried once and that earned him a spot on the couch for a few nights despite the two of you having your own rooms. So he didn’t want to bat an eye at this strange new kink you had, because if anything he was sure you would ask your one night stand to kill him next.

“He isn’t a serial killer.” You sighed as you let go of the man’s arm who was still in the same spot, planted on the red circle carpet that was set in the middle of the titled living room because the floor was cold at night and a red circle carpet was all the two of you could afford for the moment.

“(Y/N), he’s glowing blue now.” Taehyung got closer to inspect this blue glow murmuring underneath the visible skin that wasn’t contaminated. The man watched as the human who had brought him to her habitation, turned and pull her partner back by the back of his sweater in terror.

“I found him in a crater that he created back in the cemetery when I was telling my parents good night! There was this blinding light overhead and it felt like the earth was breaking under my feet so I went to go see what it was and I find this guy with dead people stuff all over him and fragments of metal all over! Taehyung, I’m sorry!”

“Oh my god, is he an alien?” Tae smiled his beautiful signature smile that always got him off easy, even if it was speeding in school zones because no one could resist the strange rectangle smile that would adorn his flustered face.

“Is that seriously all you took from this?” The man was now staring at the male that the screaming female called, “Taehyung”. He was rather quite tall, compared to the short obnoxious female. The male had very bright brown hair that was long as well as shaggy, making him appear almost like a strange creature with large brown floppy like things one either side of his cranium.

“Hey man, where are you from?” Did they not have any proper manners? Why would this inferior address him so nonchalantly?

“You will not refer to myself as ‘Man’, I am the Prince of Aquerio and as such, you must from here on out until the last day you live, address me properly or else be executed.” Taehyung blinked.

“What’s your name, Prince of Aquerio?” Y/N groaned at her roommate.

“Don’t encourage him!” The, well alien, turned to you.

“I am Prince Deukos.” Taehyung whistled at that.

“You sure, man?” Before Deukos could stare him down, Tae corrected himself. “Prince Deukos of Aquerio? Because you have the same eye shape as I do.” You got closer to the lunatic in your living room, pushed his golden coffee hair away from his eyes which caused him to grip your wrist very tightly.

“Let go of me, oh he does, hey.” You pushed him off you but this didn’t cause him to loosen his iron grip on your wrist. “You’re Asian, right?” This caused Deukos to let go of you and had on his face plastered a look of utter confusion.

“Is that you asking me for mercy?” Taehyung got really into his face and even held Deukos’ cheeks.

“You could be Korean. I think you have amnesia from your fall or crater making hobby.” Taehyung turned to you as you cradled your bruised wrist into your chest. “We could be like cousins or something, huh?” You nodded as you tried to roll your wrist. “Jimin. It’s Korean and it’s a fitting name.” Taehyung let go of the Prince’s face who wasn’t actually any bit bothered by the other male’s actions, if anything it made him feel.. warm. No one ever touched him so gently. You had pulled him out harshly from the ditch and pulled him around very rudely ever since.

“Okay, well I need to go get him washed up and put into bed now so say goodbye to your cousin.” Taehyung smiled at Jimin, bidding him a good night before disappearing into the hall way.

“Are you quite alright there?” Jimin watched you wearily as you kept rubbing your wrist between your other hand. You had brought him clothes that Taehyung had left in your room along with fresh underwear from the dryer (Tae had forgotten to take it out this morning) and some socks as well. The clothes were neatly folded on top of the counter of the washroom.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to go to my room now and if you need anything, just yell and I’ll come by. I have homework I need to finish tonight or else, I’m dead tomorrow.” You sighed, giving the bewildered stricken boy a smile before closing the door.

Jimin couldn’t concentrate on properly washing himself in the familiar clear liquid as he remembered what you had said about dying the next day if you did not complete your assignments for home. Although he did not like you at all, granted, it was you that had saved his life and brought him to your nest, where he met your partner who took a fondingness to him immediately. How peculiar, thought Jimin, that your mate did not get angry at the sight of another male with you, let alone in your habitation. He had been told about avoiding this planet since the life forms in it were extremely sensitive and susceptible to destroying themselves out of fear and confusion, but it wasn’t like that with you or Taehyung. You two were beyond fearless. But now, you were going to die when the planet completed its full turn on its axis. Jimin drained the tub, he had no actual problem figuring out everything around your home given that it was logical as well as self explanatory. He had dressed himself as well, and decided to explore his new surroundings.

By the time he had completed his exploration of the entire home, Taehyung who was his self proclaimed cousin, stumbled into him in a sleepy faze.

“Oh shit!” The male grabbed onto Jimin’s shoulder as he bent over, breathing hard. His ticker seemed too beat a little too much.

“Are you okay?” Jimin placed a hand over the male’s enormous hand which seemed to completely engulf his shoulder.

“You made me shit bricks right now, bro.” Taehyung’s body shook with laughter as he breathed out in relief. Shit bricks? Jimin looked at the ground beneath Taehyungs’ bare feet which were also big. There wasn’t bricks there.

“You did not shit bricks, I do not see them, bro.” He added awkwardly.

Taehyung stood up, and gave his shorter counterpart a smile.

“It’s an expression, meaning it’s not real but signifies that you scared me to the point where I felt my stomach drop.” Jimin’s mouth formed a small perfect O.

“Well, you must go on your way now, cousin Taehyung. I am to check on (Y/N).” Taehyung let go of Jimin’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m going to the bathroom and it’s 2 A.M. so she might be reading or actually finishing her homework by now.” Tae began to walk away from the alien but soon stopped. “Hey, have you slept yet? Do you know where you are going to even sleep?”

“I am more concerned about your mate who revealed she would die by sunrise.” Jimin left, leaving Taehyung shrugging as he made his way into the bathroom. Surprisingly, their alien guest had left the bathroom very clean, leaving no trace that he the embodiment of a zombie from The Walking Dead when he had first arrived and entered the bathroom. Jimin wasn’t so bad if he actually cleaned after himself despite his previous outbursts of rage saying how he was Prince of some kingdom, maybe even planet.

Taehyung wasn’t ready for the following morning, much less for a screaming glowing blue alien who had shot into his room.

“SHE HAS DIED! TAEHYUNG, (Y/N) HAS DIED!” Tae groaned as he sat up on his bed, eyes still shut closed.

“Man,” He groggily said as he pulled the blanket further up on his bare torso, “what is it?”

“YOUR MATE HAS DIED! SHE HAD TRUSTED IN ME THE PREVIOUS NIGHT THAT IF SHE DID NOT FINISH HER HOMEWORK TODAY SHE WOULD DIE!” TaeTae simply fell to the side into his bed from exhaustion.

“She didn’t finish?” He didn’t try to correct his cousin, it was far too mentally draining.

“WHEN I HAD WALKED INTO HER ROOM, SHE WAS JUST LIKE HOW YOU ARE RIGHT NOW BUT AT 2 A.M. SO I TOOK IT UPON MYSELF TO DO HER ORGANIC CHEMISTRY NOTES FROM THE BOOK SHE HAD NEXT TO HER BUT WHEN I HAD COME BACK AFTER SUNRISE, SHE WAS DEAD!” Jimin got on Tae’s bed and pulled the cover away as he then grabbed Tae’s arm and pulled him up. “YOU MUST COME SEE HER!” Tae groaned deeply as he decided to just go with it so the sooner this was over, the sooner he could go back to sleep. He trotted begrudgingly behind the alien who was pulling him down the hall and into Y/N’s room.

You were dead asleep, with your cheek touching the glass desk table you had in your room, slummed over in your seat.

True to his word, right next to you was the pile of fly away papers filled with notes and the textbook closed on the other side of you.

Taehyung rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“She’s just asleep.” Jimin looked at him with shock.

“But I have tried to awaken her but she is really dead!” Taehyung crouched next to you, and proceeded to poke his finger between your ribs which caused you to shift.

Jimin was appalled.

“DID YOU BRING HER BACK?!” Tae continued to dig his fingers into your side as you were now whining and moving around. “YOU MUST BE A GOD OF SOME SORT OR HAVE VAST SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE!”

“Stop yelling please, babe.” You groaned into the table, swatting Tae’s hand away. He stood up, giving the alien a smile.

“Bro, what did I tell you about taking things too literal?” He clapped his hand on Jimin’s back as he made his way back to his room.

“I’m fucked.” Jimin saw you stretch and sit up straight in your seat, with your eyes seeming to be glued shut.

“Why do you say that?”

“I didn’t finish my homework last night, I need to take it to class at 10:30.” You finally opened your eyes, just to see the text book shut and dozen of notes plied up neatly besides you. How did this happen? You had no memory of actually finishing the previous night.

“I really did believe you would die, had you not finished said homework last night before the sun caressed this side of the Earth so I took the liberty to finish it given that-” You were giving him a very strange look that was scaring him a bit. Maybe you were angry he had done this for you. “-you did save my life and I simply do not like being in debt with anyone. A life for a life.” He was now very scared, unable to decipher your facial expressions.

You were in love.

“Can I call you Stitch?” Was this a human way of insulting?

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mr. Le Roux?” Your physics professor turned around as the classroom began to empty.

“Yes, Miss (L/N)?” You didn’t know why you had actually called for him.

“Could I T.A. for you?” To say he was surprised was a complete understatement.

“Y-yes of course! What for, if I may ask?”

“I’m writing an alien story for my creative writing class and I am very interested as well in the quantum theory aspect of physics too.” Mr. Le Roux smiled at you as took off his glasses and proceeded to clean them with the hem of his black dress shirt. Mr. Le Roux was beyond handsome, not hot, he was just really handsome despite being in his late 40′s. He had a full set of dreamy like hair and the apparent wrinkles on his eyes that you could call, happy lines, just added to his charm.

“Sure,” He closed his glasses and placed them in his breast pocket. “We could study that apart as well.”

“Now what we do here, is clean and wash clothes.” Taehyung had been teaching Jimin all day where everything was and went in the house. Taehyung was a scrub nurse who was on call. He had done his associate degree for it at the age of 19 and because he was a male and had the highest grades, he had gotten great scholarships and grants as well as completed two years of supervised clinical practice in a hospital. It was his first year as an official surgical nurse and he had already seen so many more things than young people at his age see while travelling. And to be honest, he loved it more than anything.

Jimin loved his new cousin. The guy was funny and very energetic, he could feel them forming a wonderful relationship. It made him feel at ease, and not as if he were million of light years away from his home and his family.

“If (Y/N) had school, and you assist people cut others open to rearrange their internal organs to make them better, why is she still there and you are already working?” Tae leaned back into the dryer.

“I only had to do a program that offered me to finish my classes in two years while (Y/N)’s profession is something that requires more experience and schooling so she is more than prepared.” Jimin jumped onto the washing machine next to the dryer.

“Is she going to be queen?” The only reason why people in his planet took so much time in school was if they were going to step up into some sort of noble title.

Tae laughed as the deep octaves of his laugh danced around the room.

“Sure, she wishes.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Jimin was very puzzled. He was sure you could be Queen, a very rude one probably but still a queen since you did save him. Taehyung patted his thigh before going off to greet Y/N.

Jimin jumped off the machine and followed behind.

You were very nice he decided. You had cooked for him something you called creamy chicken fettuccine pasta which he was hesitant to taste at first since it was foreign to him but after the first bite he took, it was so good, he felt like he was going to explode. He had also noted that you seemed to like to touch him a lot as well as your mate Taehyung who was also very touchy with you as well as himself. There were times he wondered if this was something just humans did. Taehyung had received a message from his device and quickly bid him goodbye before hugging Y/N who swatted him away.

“Who communicated with him?” Jimin watched as you were bent over the arm of the couch, trying to reach the remote control of the TV while he himself was seated next to you, rather next to your ass (Taehyung called that part of the body ass while he had fallen) that was in his face. Is this how humans asked for relations?

“He just got paged for surgery,” You huffed as you tried to push your lower body further down into the floor to reach the control, praying you wouldn’t be too far from the couch and end up falling onto your face. “He’ll be back in like 6 hours the least.” This was extremely more hard to do than getting up and retrieving the remote yourself. You were determined to show Jimin the movie Lilo and Stitch so he could understand that he was your literal angel that fell from the sky and saved you today.

But it was clear that the alien had other plans.

Just when you felt you were going to fall into the carpet, you felt two strong hands grip your hips and pull you back.

“Okay.” Jimin’s hot breath grazed the back of your leggings and hit you right on one of your cheeks, sending a blush to your face and a shot through your lower stomach and straight into your core. He continued to pull you back until he finally sat you on his lap causing you to straighten your upper body in shock.

“Oh my,” There was no denying that such a simple act had now caused you to become extremely aroused. You tried to not shift as you felt your clit begin to puff up and how easily your lower lips moved due to the natural, sweet lubrication you were leaking.

You were soaking wet.

What made it worse was that you had no panties on so if you continued to remember how it felt when Jimin had practically breathed onto your ass, you would soak through and right into his jeans. This was suppose to be a cute moment. You introducing him to how children’s movies are the best thing ever but it was spoiled. Literally.

“Are you fine?” Jimin felt you squirm around in his lap as the scent of you got strange and very sweet.

“I’m going to my room.” He sensed you were embarrassed. By why? Were you not allowed to be alone with him?

“Is Taehyung your mate?” It had to be that. Jimin felt awful to realize that he had just embarrassed you by acting extremely forward with you even though you were probably being courted by his cousin.

"God no." You felt something very hard and thick under you suddenly.

"I thought he was." Jimin's voice seemed to have gotten an octave lower.

"N-no, he's just my roommate who I split bills with." He hummed as if he were thinking. "I need to go." Just when you were about to get up, he hugged your waist.

"To be quite frank, I have never been in your form before and what I am feeling at the moment feels very," Jimin didn't mean to keep you in place but something within him caused it to happen. "Weird."

"In my form?" He placed his chin on your shoulder.

"Yes. My people can camouflage once we are near the atmosphere of different planets, into the natural offsprings of the planet but we still feel our true selves deep inside when we feel threatened." You didn't understand how exactly you could be still while feeling him.

"Do you fuck the women when you invade their planet?" The statement had just escaped you. Jimin pressed you into his chest however.

"I am a Prince. The females of my planet throw themselves at me," He growled as he spoke menacingly into your neck, giving you chills. "I do not need to fuck inferior females." If anything, his degrading words made you throb, causing an estranged whine to escape you. "You want me to take you, do you not?" He placed his hand on your throat, his fingers gripping the bottom of your jaw and chin as his palm was flat against your neck.

"Y-yes." How long was it since you had sex? School was so stressful and despite reading, bath bombs, candles, and the piano music that was suppose to aide you, it never quite worked like sex. But it wasn't always that great, it was more of a self effort to make yourself cum. Taehyung always avoided you when you were beyond horny and stressed, spending even the night at the hospital. But here you had Jimin. Someone who was nearly choking and griping your lower face hard.

"You could never be enough." His other hand lowered into your sweats, where he felt the very smooth skin of your lower stomach and the soft skin between your hips. "Are all females of your planet this soft? Oh, are you wet?" He was surprised to feel how the anatomy was of a female on your planet. The inside of what seemed to be a soft, warm crevasse was adorned with a warm liquid as well that seem to coat his fingers. He felt how your heart began to beat faster and how your breathing increased as well. The blood in your body was rushing to where his hand was.

"F-f-fuck," He loved the sound of your whines. "P-please touch me." Jimin didn't need to be told twice.

"Could you lean on the side of the couch again?" He whispered to you as you began to rock yourself against his curious hand.

"Mhm." The high pitched whimper was sent straight into his core. He had never experienced such a feeling before. It was intense and almost made him whimper as well.

You pulled yourself off his lap and leaned into the arm of the couch, your lower body was up and in his face again.

"Pull my leggings down." He hooked his fingers in either side of the leggings and slowly pulled them down.

Jimin was in awe. The more he pulled them down, the more you seemed to be making sounds.

"You are glistening. I have never witness such a beautiful sight." You purred at his compliment.

Jimin was curious as how to touch you. He carefully pressed a finger on your swollen lips and clit, earning a loud moan from you. He quickly pulled his finger away.

"No, please don't stop." Jimin nodded as he pressed his ring finger into the leaking hole, feeling its soft and warm walls contract against his finger, almost hugging him tightly. With his other hand, he rubbed the liquid you had running down your thighs into your skin, his face now closer.

"You must be a Princess." Your heart burst.

"I'm not." He ignored you as he began to slowly pull out his finger and felt you push your hips back onto him, so he sunk his finger back in. "You're suppose to finger me, baby." Baby. That felt like a very nice word.

"How do I finger you?" You reached back, grabbing his wrist and pulling in and out his finger, allowing yourself to release shallow breaths. "You look so good using my hand like that. The purple on your skin looks beautiful as well." You felt dirty and utterly shameless but it was so amazing. You ignored the soaring pain in your bruised wrist as you continued to use his hand as a toy for your pleasure. He quickly inserted his middle finger, relinquishing the feeling of how you felt. Jimin felt himself grow tighter in his constricting jeans as it started to hurt but seeing how you were fingering your coated hole with his hand made him ignore the pain.

"Get c-closer." Jimin scoot closer, seeing how your body worked this much closer made his mouth water. He felt this sudden deep animalistic urge to bite the soft flesh of your ass.

"May I bite you?"

"T-touch m-my clit." He looked at you and began to touch everything which made you squeal and it wasn't until he touched your clit that you began to cry his name out.

"I apologize." He was about to pull away when you pressed further back which resulted in you pressing into his face. He pulled his fingers out, and sunk his teeth into one of your swollen lips.

"J-J-jhhhhh," There was no denying that the sounds you were making were music to him. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit as his nose was pressed into your lips. He was in love with how you were screaming and thrashing. Your knuckles were white as you gripped the pillows of the couch, your face pressed into them hard. Jimin was sucking on your clit as he reached into you with his fingers, caressing your walls causing them to grip him. God, how can someone be so good at giving you this much attention and not wanting to be given attention themselves?

"Do you like this?" He moved his tongue into you as he began to work with his fingers. Goodness, who knew humans tasted this fucking good? Jimin couldn't stop himself, he was desperately lapping you up and turned into a whining mess. He needed to stay like this forever until he had taken the last drip that tasted of you.

You were worked into a fury. There was no way you would last long if he kept this up as you felt your lower stomach build up tension with your eyes rolling back.

Jimin quickly undid his jeans, pulling them down as well as his underwear, feeling himself freed and a lot better but the taste of you and the sounds you were making made his cock throb angrily. He had to be in you, he had to, it was the only way he would feel better.

You cried out as you felt him pull away, feeling the cool air caress your hot core.

It wasn't until you felt the couch shift from under you and felt Jimin's hands on your hips that you then felt him press the head of his dick on your clit.

"Pleeeeaaasse," He had so much control over you, it was adding to his ego.

"What do you want from me, you useless human?" He continued to press himself against your clit, rubbing his head against it as you pressed yourself back into him.

"Please fuck me," You were on the verge of tears.

"I told you already that I do not fuck inferior beings." He teasingly positioned himself into your hole, giving you shallow thrusts. "I would just have you, and then dispose of you because you are not good enough."

"What makes you think you're even good enough for me?" You challenged back.

You felt him push himself into you hard, splitting you in half. He gripped your hair into his fist and pulled you back on to him. You were getting savagely fucked by this alien who was spatting out growls that were beyond terrifying as well as hot that you welcomed the pain. He filled you completely, it was so good that you began to move your hips to his harsh thrusts.

But Jimin wasn’t having it.

“Down!” He pressed a hand down hard on your lower back, causing your belly button to kiss the couch as your ass was high up for him to spank violently at as he continued to hit his dick in a very sensitive spot that the angle was giving him.

You had never been treated like this, so primeval and yet so carefully at the same time.

Jimin let go of your hair, leaned down to lick the back of your ear and bite down on your neck which caused you to mewl loudly as tears leaked from the corners of your eyes from the intense pleasure washing all over you. He was determined to leave more shades of purple on you just like the one he had adoring your wrist. The familiar tension building up in your lower stomach resurfaced, far more present than before.

“M-my cli-clit,” You choked into the couch. Jimin quickly pressed his finger roughly onto your pearl, touching it so sweetly as well as rubbing it senselessly as he felt your walls tighten around him, leaving him breathless.

“My Princess,” He whimpered into your back. “I want you to feel good.” You began to sob from how he was angling his hips into you, greedily hitting your g-spot with much more force. There was no way you would be alive after all this.

Just then, you felt something behind your eyes crack, causing blinding white lights to explode and the tension of your lower stomach break. The high that followed was one worthy of a strong drug trip.

At the feeling of how your walls compulsing on his dick, Jimin felt this sense of euphoria and wonder go all through him as he felt himself release a warm liquid in deeply within you, bringing him to collapse onto you but his fingers never stopped rubbing your clit which helped you chase your high.

“J-Jimin, it hurts.” You were overstimulated from his fingers abusing your clit, causing you to move around a bit.

“I am sorry.” He panted before bringing his hand to your back, where he stoked and felt how the skin of your back was so soft and smooth, leaving him in wonder at how you were just soft all over.

He rolled off of you and instead, next to you on the couch, on his side. You could feel his russet eyes on you but you were too tired to open your eyes.

Little did you know that Jimin was actually admiring your face and body. He couldn't help but to rub your shoulder blade in such tenderness. He began to trail his hand down the slope of your back, his finger drawing little symbols over the silky skin. He noticed you were leaking fluids from the earlier activity the two of you shared so he sat up, pulling his shirt from the back of the neck, making it come off and proceeded to wipe you clean, watching as how the liquid he had released in you came out white. It was a satisfying feeling for him to see such a sight. Back in his planet, it was actually the females who would mark the males to signify there were together after their intercourse which was a bit different from human intercourse. But maybe in your planet, having his fluid leak from you meant that you were his for the taking. He had just beat Taehyung to it.

“Admiring your work?” You were watching him with the slight turn of your head to see how he looked at his cum drip from out of you. “Don’t worry, I’m on the shot although I don’t know how effective it is against alien semen but if it’s dangerous enough to give me bone cancer after a few years, it should be lethal enough to prevent a pregnancy.” Pregnancy?

“Oh.” You watch him throw the shirt away, landing on the counter of the coffee table in the middle of the living room. It was your turn to sit up now. Jimin scoot a bit away so you could fit.

“Did you mean what you said?” Why were you bringing this up?

Jimin looked at you momentarily and then back to where he was once physically connected to you. He didn’t want to admit that saving him that night, had caused him to be attracted to you in a way that he deeply loathed since you were quite detestable in itself but now, he felt very strange.

“I must go wash myself, I believe you must as well.” He didn’t look back at you as he got off the couch and trotted almost mindlessly into the bathroom.

What a strange alien.

“First of all, why would you fuck my roommate?” Tae had arrived at 1 A.M. and was pleasantly surprised that Jimin was waiting for him at the door, greeting him. They were currently in his room playing Halo. Jimin had a difficult time grasping the concept of him killing strange life forms even if it were fake.

“It was quite spontaneous, I did not plan on it although I cannot say the same as for her.” He heard Tae sighed deeply as he shot another alien in the game, startling Jimin.

“We don’t fuck our roommates because that causes all sorts of weird stuff and problems. It’s unhealthy too since she fucks anyone on the weekends so if you caught feelings, they’re going to hurt.”

“Caught feelings? Is that a disease?” Tae hummed approvingly to his cousin.

“A very deadly one at that.” Oh dear, now Jimin was going to die.

Tae quickly paused the game as soon as he caught a glimpse of Jimin’s face as it contoured into panic ad the blue murmur under his skin seem to brighten.

“I am going to die from this?” He pointed to his obnoxious heart that was beating out of control.

“Hey, hey,” Tae pulled the controller out of the other male’s hands and set it on the bed. “What did we say about being too keen on taking thing literal?”

“I am sorry.” Jimin closed his eyes as he to slow his breathing.

“Hey- oh.” Y/N had opened the door with a smile which quickly ceased when she saw Jimin seated in bed next to Taehyung who still had his controller in his hands.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Tae didn’t want to be caught in the middle of this awkward fucking-then-feelings-occurring-nonsense.

“I can just come back later when-”

“Oh my fucking, you’re already here. Might as well.” You leaned into the door frame and Jimin couldn’t help but admire the curves of your body. He had never found such a thing so appetizing.

“Sarah is here even though it’s fucking 3 A.M and she brought your stupid squad. I guess it was free idiots’ night at some club.” You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t that you hated Bangtan. Why they had such a stupid name, you would never know. But it was just that Seokjin and Yoongi were always trying to pursue something with you and you could not deny that you really wanted them both but it was an unsaid rule between you and Tae where you couldn’t fuck his friends just like he couldn't fuck yours.

"Why is Sarah with then?" Tae felt like throwing a tantrum. Y/N and him were both a bit unaware of Jimin as they were lost in their conversation of a squad and Sarah.

"Just come. She's probably making out with Namjoon at this point." Tae quickly stood up, mouthing a "come with me" to his cousin as he walked past Y/N who suddenly shift her eyes onto Jimin.

"I will not dispose of you." He spoke in a hush voice. "And you were quite correct earlier about it being myself that was not enough for you." The shy alien hugged his knees to his chest, not daring to look at you.

You sighed, walking to the bed and sat on the end of it, looking at the alien who was avoiding your eyes.

"What makes you say that?" He finally raised his russet eyes to meet you.

"Because it is quite clear to me that you do not like me, and what I had said earlier about you being a Princess, that I meant.” You couldn’t really move. You wanted to sit next to him and not at the end of the bed, expressing to him that you did like him, just not as how he probably felt since he kept referring to you during sex as Princess. “You do not have to say anything to me.” He climbed off the bed and stood there, looking away, feeling ashamed. “I am quite aware that it is not something possible either way given that we do not belong in each others’ planet.” It was almost as if he were saying goodbye to you. “The silence you are giving me in response to my confession is one that is very loud.” He chuckled dryly. “It is a silence of not replicating my inner desires and needs.” Jimin finally looked up at you. “I thank you for everything but it would be best if I do not stay here a minute longer and return to Aquerio where I am to fulfill my duties.”

“You can’t go.” You finally found your voice. “I’m sorry I let this get out of control. I didn’t know that what we did earlier would have caused you to believe-” He felt a sharp pang to his heart. Believe? “that we could have had something. I’m sorry.”

“This-” Tae was cut short as Jimin gave him a weak smile before walking out of the room, past the drunk line of friends who were too intoxicated to make out the fuzzy image in their vision was actually a person. “What did you do?” Tae demanded as you scurried after the alien. But it was then that Jin threw himself on you, blocking your way to go after Jimin.

“Heeeeeeeyyyy,” He tried to say your name but it came out in a slurred mess of an attempt.

“Jin, please let me go.” Jimin had turned left, disappearing from the hallway. “Taehyung-ie get your friend off me!” It was actually Yoongi that pulled Jin off of you but before he could give you a snarky remark, you had ran into the direction that Jimin had disappeared in.

Part 2

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agilenano · 4 years ago

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Agilenano - News: Why the 'Doom Eternal’ Marauder Sucks So Bad

When Doom 2016 released, it was with a fire and energy unlike anything we’d ever seen before. Oh, sure, games have been violent, and that’s nothing new, but Doom 2016 brought personality to the fray. While the characters droned on about lore nobody cared about, Doomguy understood what we were here to do: rip and tear. Together, we did just that. With the release of Doom Eternal, things have changed, and not necessarily for the better, and nowhere is this illustrated better than with an enemy known as the Marauder. Doom Eternal is a departure from Doom 2016; if you go into it expecting a sequel to the game you’ve waited four years for, you’ll be disappointed, because while it is a sequel narratively, it makes so many changes from its predecessor that it ends up becoming an entirely different kind of game. Where Doom 2016 let you embody Doomguy, Eternal has you putting on a Doomguy costume and exploring a Doomguy theme park. Here’s a fleshy level! Here’s a weird alien level! Why are there rotating flaming chains here? Uh… because Eternal owes more to Super Mario Bros 3. than Doom 2016. It’s weird, sure, but it’s still fun, just in a very different way. Once you get past the extremely high expectations set by 2016, you’ll find a delightfully potent mix of mechanics, movement abilities, weapons, and enemies that creates one of shooting’s best sandboxes. There’s nothing quite as thrilling as dashing past a Tyrant’s fire, leaping into the air in slow-mo, firing a grenade at an arachnotron’s turret to force him into close range combat, then landing on top of an unfortunate imp and chainsawing him in half for more ammo. It’s great! It really is… until the Marauder shows up. In theory, the Marauder is supposed to be the Anti-Doomguy; fighting him should feel like a duel. He has a shield you can’t break, summons adds constantly to fight you, reacts incredibly fast to your actions, and has a hitscan weapon with a minimal tell. He isn’t hard to beat—I’ve killed him in a matter of seconds—but he breaks every single one of Eternal’s rules. He sucks all the fun out of the room. He goes against the flow of Doom’s combat, and he’s the reason I have zero interest in playing more Doom Eternal. Let’s take a step back and talk about what makes Doom, as a series, so interesting. In the Beginning.. In 1993, id released Doom, and a whole lot of game developers started making first person shooters so similar that people took to calling the genre “ Doom clones.” But, as with anything that’s remotely successful, most of the clones didn’t quite nail what made the original as good as it was, either due to a lack of understanding or for a desire to experiment with something new. Doom was a game all about movement, first and foremost. If an imp throws a fireball at you, you step to the side to avoid damage; because the imp’s fireball has a visible travel time, it’s easy to understand and try to avoid. The rocket launcher’s splash damage does self-damage, so it’s important to keep as much distance between you and your enemies as possible when using it. On the surface, this sounds pretty simple; we’ve taken a lot of these elements for granted, and in some cases, they’ve changed over the years, sometimes for the worst. Take shotguns; in Doom, spread determined power, so distance directly correlated with damage. In more recent shooters, some designers use tools like damage falloff, meaning that even if every one of your pellets hit, your shotgun might as well be shooting confetti outside of its effective range. Doom’s elegance is the way that each component of its design, in terms of both weapon utility and enemy ability has a distinct, understandable purpose, and all of those components work together in a way that encourages players to move, but it wasn’t just the monsters or the weapons, it was the level design as well. 'Doom' screenshot courtesy of id In a level like E1M3, as you progress, one pickup causes all the lights to go off and imps burst out of a previously secret door behind you! It’s a great practical joke of the level design, and super memorable, not because it’s a surprise, but because it exists in direct contrast to the rest of the game’s encounters without breaking the level design. You see, there are two kinds of first person shooters, proactive and reactive. A proactive shooter is one where you can see the enemy, often before an encounter begins, and you start to plan how to deal with them. It often involves scouting out the level space, considering routes and cover, which enemies to use which weapons against, and so on. Halo 3’s a great example of a proactive shooter; you’ll often find yourself wading into fights from the high ground, like rescuing Johnson from imprisonment in the level Sierra 117. In shorter term play, planning is about area control; moment to moment, you’re thinking about the space you’re in and how your movement and shooting lets you control that space. Planning is a huge part of what makes a game engaging; if you can get players thinking about what to do next, you can keep them excited. Thomas Grip, best known for his work on games like Amnesia and Soma, has written about it at length here. 'Gears of War' screenshot courtesy of Microsoft Reactive shooters are very different, games that often turn into literal shooting galleries, where you stand still and shoot targets. Games like Gears of War and Call of Duty 4 are proactive shooters, but many of their imitators looked at mechanics like regenerating health systems and cover and decided to make games about staying in cover and moving as little as possible. Gears especially used cover as a way of encouraging a different kind of movement and planning, something its imitators rarely understood. Doom was a proactive shooter; so many of its encounters were about showing you what you were going to encounter, entering the fray, and managing enemies by controlling the space until you’ve completed the encounter. Reactivity isn’t bad; character action games like Devil May Cry 3 or Ninja Gaiden Black are all about reactive play and would be very different as proactive games. These games spawn waves of enemies, and you dodge, counter, and parry your way through combat. You’re making decisions, sure, but you’re reacting to the enemies the game throws at you. It’s not so much about area control as it is about managing the enemies you receive in the order they’re given to you. Reactive play is great for melee-driven action games, but shooters are best for proactive play because ranged combat puts the focus on area control. Over the years, as shooters became more cinematic games moved away from the pure game design abstractions of Doom and Doom 2 and closer to things that felt real. From 2006 or so until 2014, shooters became overly-restrictive, ‘cinematic’ affairs, more interested in showing impressive, expensive sequences that had more panache than dynamism. Good shooter gameplay seemed to matter a whole lot less than overly-restrictive set pieces. Gameplay took a backseat until a new wave of shooters like Titanfall and Destiny showed up to remind us what we were missing. Then along came Doom 2016. Rip And Tear Doom 2016 felt so vibrant because it wasted no time trying to be a movie. As a shooter, it knew you wanted to shoot, and it was only too happy to oblige. While the levels felt like real, believable spaces—Foundry is exactly what a Doom level should be in 3D and Argent Energy Tower beautifully channels Half-Life’s puzzle-like verticality—the game understood that you are Doomguy, and your goal is to show up and kill as many demons as humanly possible. 'Doom 2016' screenshot courtesy of Bethesda But… there was one problem. Most of Doom’s levels center around gore nests, big gobs of flesh that require you to interact with to start the encounter. Go into a room, the doors lock, and you fight everyone in the room until they’re dead. Even levels without gore nests have the same flow. Rather than encouraging proactive play, these levels were better at just encouraging you to run around, reacting to enemies as they spawned, triggering glory kills to get back health and armor, and shooting enemies until they were dead. While the game was absolutely excellent, and a masterpiece of level design and exploration, fights could get repetitive, which is why the back half of the game can feel so tiring compared to the first. At some point, Doom 2016 just stops adding new surprises and only seems to change the set dressing. It’s one of my favorite games, but I’d be happy to acknowledge that there was room for improvement. Instead, we got Doom Eternal. 'Doom 2016' screenshot courtesy of Bethesda Back in 2014 or so, I started working with some friends on a prototype shooter. That shooter featured double jumping, mantling, wall climbing, ice grenades, damaging enemy weak points to change their attack patterns, and a lot of other things featured in Doom Eternal. We were even working on a shotgun with a grappling hook, enemies who needed to be damaged to drop armor, and an ice grenade that could freeze enemies. We had to stop because we couldn’t afford to make it, but it was, in so many ways, my dream shooter, and it was absolutely thrilling to see one of my favorite game developers channeling so much of the same energy I’d had in Doom Eternal. For the first several hours, I found myself enthralled. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the Mario-influenced obstacles or the ultra-linear “encounter, hallway, encounter” level design; Eternal relies heavily on arcadey influences that seem at odds with its predecessor. I definitely wasn’t thrilled by the game’s insistence on story and fanservice, where Doom 2016 felt so much more focused and razor sharp. Still, the combat and arenas were intense and fast paced, though they leaned more towards the reactive side, with enemies constantly warping into battle until I’d killed them all. There are some rough spots—Eternal wants you to use all of its mechanics in every encounter, but sometimes doesn’t provide enough ammo to complete the encounters (you’re supposed to chainsaw fodder enemies to get more ammo, but that falls apart when the game refuses to produce any). 'Doom Eternal' screenshot courtesy of Bethesda Eternal wants to keep you on your toes with a great mix of enemies who push you through agility, area denial, or just plain aggression, like my favorite enemy in the series, the Hell Knight. While the game keeps you on your toes, and the way it handles enemy spawns pushes it closer to reactive play, Eternal tries to balance this with a system of counters. Cacodemons are weak to the Ballista, while the plasma rifle makes short work of the game’s shields. Even though Eternal pushes you to stay on your toes and forces you to fight reactively, there are still ways to make plans, juggling weapons and managing enemies for some semblance of area control. Everything in the game has a counter that works against it. In its most aggressive moments, like the spectacular Slayer Gate encounters, Eternal hits a state of zen few reactive shooters can match, because you’re making plans, but it’s more like “oh no! That’s a Tyrant! Where did he come from? Okay, I’ll use my crucible on him right after I use this ice grenade to get rid of that Whiplash.” Even though you’re reacting, you’re still making decisions. When the Marauder shows up, decisions go out the window. Early on, Doom Eternal establishes rules like “energy shields can be overcharged with plasma fire, causing them to explode, doing damage to nearby enemies.” The Marauder is the only enemy with a shield that takes no damage. Where every other enemy features projectiles and lengthy tells to allow you to dash out of their range, the Marauder’s weapon appears to be a hitscan weapon, meaning it has instant travel time and can only be dodged. He punishes you for getting too close or too far. He can teleport at random. Every rule Eternal sets up, the Marauder breaks… and it kills the flow completely. He isn’t hard to kill, once you get the hang of him, but he sucks because he doesn’t fit. Eternal is a very game designer game, like someone sat down with a bunch of spreadsheets and cross-referenced all the guns to make sure every enemy and action has some sort of clear counter and flow. While the combat encounters themselves are beautifully frenetic, they also have a tendency to get monotonous; great shooters allow for creative play, which is why proactive shooters have an edge over reactive ones. Games that look beautiful on spreadsheets, where every component has a distinct place, minimize that creativity even further, because they prescribe the ways you must play in order to succeed. The Marauder doesn’t even allow that. To beat him, you have to wait until he opens his shield, then stun him, or fire a bunch of explosives behind him to whittle his health down. Neither is really all that fun. There’s no way to bait him into rushing you by, say, blowing up his shield, or taking area control away from me by using weapons to push him into a position you’d find advantageous. He’s immune to the super weapons like the BFG, Crucible, and Unmakyr, for no apparent reason. Eternal is at its best when you’re playing actively and making plans, which are facilitated by its counter system, and while that restricts creative play, it’s still a valid way to get players in the zone. The Marauder has hard counters for everything you can do. He’s not hard, but he’s annoying. He doesn’t fit. He’s like an underwater level or one of those really fast flying enemies that are irritating to hit. He doesn’t pose a challenge, he just sucks all the fun out of the room because he requires you to play passively. The Marauder feels like an indulgence that doesn’t really fit, but that’s true of Doom Eternal as a whole. No one loved Doom 2016 because of the story or the boss fights or the memes that didn’t exist yet, they loved it because Doomguy conveyed so much with so little. Doom Eternal isn’t content to do a lot with a little; it wants to indulge in everything. It adds so much without ever really knowing why. What does purple goop add? What do the weird Mario platformers or 1ups bring to the situation? What purpose does the Marauder serve? Doom 2016 was a vibrant reinvention for the series that was fast enough to maintain the spirit of the game while still allowing for creative and interesting play. Doom Eternal wants to be something different, and that’s okay, because its emphasis on counters can still lead to fun play. But the Marauder just doesn’t fit; he’s antithetical to everything that makes Eternal worth playing. When a game indulges in its least-compelling moments, it loses the things that make it great. The Marauder is Doom Eternal’s biggest indulgence and its greatest failing. #DoomMarauder #Bethesda #FirstPersonShooters #GamesOpinion #IdSoftware

Agilenano - News from Agilenano from shopsnetwork (4 sites) https://agilenano.com/blogs/news/why-the-doom-eternal-marauder-sucks-so-bad

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peanutdracolich · 7 years ago

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Peanut Dracolich Watches Horror: Ju-On

Oh after the old Hammer Horror films this was a breath of fresh air. It was a legitimately scary film (The Descent beat it out for fear factor I think, but Ju-On might have a longer impact and burn). The film made good use of music and the absence of music, good use of angles to cast things as ‘off’. It was in total a good well made creepy and scary film.

I’d actually say that it might be the best horror film I’ve watched this month. I didn’t enjoy it as much as a good watching of Alien or Evil Dead nor as much as Psycho but it is very much a pure film, a film of scares and creeps and terror that clenches at you. I would suggest it (with caveats but horror is a large enough genre, and one with enough things that can be major ‘nos’, there will always be caveats). That said I don’t feel it’s a film I will want to rewatch; the ghost story was enjoyable once, but it doesn’t have anything to draw me back to it. Which rewatchability while a plus in a film is far from a requirement.

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and the Play by Play below the cut.

The Good:

The Overall Effect: It’s actually hard to say ‘this was good’ because the film was overall good. They used silence and then sound early in the film to wonderful effect (sometimes it bordered on ‘you should be scared now’ but that faded as the movie drew you in). I can’t even say ‘this section was best’ because while the first two felt generally weaker, a large part of that was that the effect needed time to build, and grow.

The Covers Scene: If you’ve seen the film you hopefully know what I’m talking about if you haven’t I don’t want to spoil it (the play by play will but).

The Bad:

Early Tomio: The make up job was... It took a bit of extra buy in and suspension the first time he showed up full ghost. In generally the ghosts took a bit of extra buy in and could have ruined the film if I had not been willing to let it go and enjoy and believe. I don’t have a huge problem with these moments (I believe some investment of imagination is deserved by a film), but once or twice in the film it did get to me more than most I mention it for. I could put this in the Ugly (as it’s a visual failing) but as it’s got more stuff in the ‘necessary evil’ category I’m putting it here because it did feel like a legit flaw.

The Ugly:

Temporal Confusion: It jumps around a lot in time. I’d actually say it really ought to have had a X years later with the one section but I don’t think it’d have gotten to me in an English speaking film; subtitles add an extra layer of mental involvement (you’re reading) and that aggravated it. And it did use the confusion to good effect and it’s a legit effect in horror. Still bothered me a bit.

There are no rules: The ghost really does seem to have no real rules. I mean everyone targeted theoretically visits the house (ignoring the implications in the final scene as just artistic license). But we never really learn any rules, and there’s no real meaningful interactions with the ghost. It works, it makes it scarier, but this is a large part of why I don’t really want to rewatch (or I’m sure there’s some folk lore from Japan that adds a little, and small details I could get on a rewatch, but at the amount of effort it’d be more fun to just read up online). It’s a reason I’m not super interested in the sequels in the franchise; despite the film possibly being the best I watched I am not that intrigued by the umpteen sequels. I am certain at some point they add lore, and at some point they contradict that lore, but in a way I’d rather leave it with its lawless purity than see what they do. Still it feels like the curse doesn’t function on any rules other than ‘to an audience this would be scary/freaky’ which makes the suspension of disbelief a bit harder and leaves a subtly bad aftertaste. Again I can’t say this is truly the Bad, because it’s what makes the film work, but it is a double edged sword.

The Ordering of the Last Two Sections: The final section is really a final section, but a throwaway line in the section before it in addition to causing much of the temporal confusion tells you how it ends. The second to last section is the only one where you sort of feel hope for the human’s escape, someone actually doing something to fight the curse and who has been built up in the last section... but this only works if you aren’t paying attention to the time (my thoughts at the time were ‘if there’s 10-20 minutes left in the film she’ll make it, if there’s 30 she’s sure dead’ there were going back later to check 27 at that time of thought). In the end I think the ordering the film used is better, but it is still just a bit bothersome.

The Play by Play:

Ju-On is on to a good creepy start. I am sort of regretting... don't hurt the cat! Ok this is a good creepy start. Lots of blood lots of implied murder. Good start. I am regretting making hot chocolate because my appetite is damaged now. Of artistic note is that they made the opening have washed out and faded colors, not actually black and white but still creating a certain surreal feeling and appearance. Still it's stuff like this, stuff that makes use of music and visuals to create an effect that makes horror movies worth watching. I watch horror because it creates visceral reactions that few other movies do; I might get engaged and energized watching a heroic tale, but that's just one hit and horror can get that sort of energy, but it offers a plethora more.

We then get actual characters at the social welfare center. Someone is handing off a hard case to a volunteer who doesn't want it, and then using it as an excuse to take her to dinner. I feel sorry for her already.

And then we get 'haunted' sound screech. Not trying to create the feeling of terror with it alone, but using the music and fiddling with angles and shots to create a creepy feeling as our volunteer approaches the old lady's house. The house where she gets no response, finds it an absolute sty with everything scatter about, and the old lady unable to get up out of bed to meet her simply clawing at the glass door.

Nishina Rika. We have her name and I'm writing it down because I don't want to call her 'volunteer girl' or 'protag girl'. Rika is just so much easier.

Now this movie knows how to mix eroticism with horror, she's giving the old lady a sponge bath. Forgive me I've watched too many vampire movies of late.

The movie has not been using music outside of that creepy start. It has had minor sounds, and it is using them to good effect. We hear growling, no something scratching at the back of a sealed door and it is creepy. She goes in and we start finally getting some background music and the sudden inclusion after the lack is all the creepier. A cat yowls and we can believe a cat is behind the taped up door. Rika removes the tap to open and see inside... and it's just a cat sitting there peaceful. CREEPY SOUND and then a boy appears in the taped up closet. Rika freaks.

She seems to think she simply missed the child before leaning in to get the cat. I guess that's reasonable, after all children don't suddenly appear. They aren't birds and she wasn't hearing any name.

She starts up the stairs and CREEPY SOUND The boy is looking down at her. I'll admit I sort of jumped at the sound. It is reminiscent to Saw's laugh track except a hundred times more effective since the things are creepy and not 'dude tied up'.

Old lady is talking to ghosts and we have music again. The music rises to really creepy as a shadow demon thing attacks the old lady and then opens its eyes, the child's eyes I think, and looks at Rika. Rika faints.

We get the next part and a name for the hero of this part, but I'm bad with names and was writing the above it is not written down in time.

Same house. Same mess... but it's not quite, there's a couple living in the house, her son and daughter in law. I know I should be creeped, the tension should be holding, but... I'm still a bit burnt out I guess. And then something falls over the, younger old lady, awakens. So it would seem this is either a different family or the past. The ghost child is still there looking down from above, his black cat with him. House wife is sort of freaked out that there's someone and a cat in her house. She doesn't have a cat. In my mind she and her husband have been trying to have a child, but that's just my mind.

Good use of sound, good use of camera. Cat screams, woman screams, we do not see. It's the past, Hitomi and Kazumi, the names that were dropped in the first segment. Everything has been knocked around. The man's been blaming his mom. It's not. It's the ghost, the demonic spirit that has now stolen his wife's soul. Alright she finally reacts to his screaming and shaking, her eyes moving, and her mouth trembling, it did not steal his soul.

It walks behind him as he's calling an ambulance and he doesn't quite see it but he senses something. It's a nice moment. My feet are poised to jump up onto the seat with me. The child isn't there when he's looking, he can't see it, but he can tell there's something.

Now he finally finds it. I must be willing to be afraid, the monster is a child with some pale make up and it's just. It doesn't quite get my feet up... even as his wife dies from the curse. A dark look overcomes his face as his sister arrives.

My feet feel vulnerable still, though.

The son seems to be crazy. I'm getting Jack Nicholson vibes from him. He's lying about where his wife is. He's trying to literally push his sister out of the door, and now is talking about his wife having an affair, how that's not his child. They didn't have a child. There is something wrong here and his sister is just confused.

Possession claims him and he goes to murder his wife as the child smiles like an evil imp.

The next section is Hitomi (the sister/daughter). And we see her making a phone call (I neglected to mention) from the first part. She's NOT in the house. That doesn't mean she's safe. Something is following her. There are strange, scraping footsteps, like something is shuffling. She even sees the shadow move into the stall next to her in the bathroom.

She gets a call from her brother, but all that she gets is the creepy sound of a door creaking. She drops a stuffed bear, and then leans to grab it and a dark haired ghost presents its head. Wisely she runs. Foolishly she sends the building's security guard up after it to his death. But it is not in vain, she watches on CC tv and gets to see... she runs away before she can see and we just know he vanishes after a bit of darkness was creeping up him. Very politely she closes the elevator door in a lady's face, meaning she's alone, alone isn't safe. Alone is where the ghost child watches you. Alone is how he follows you. Every floor. Watching you.

I can already say this is probably the best scare movie I've watched this month. It may not be the scariest, but I've enjoyed it more than the Descent.

And she got a call from her brother asking her apartment number, went to the door, saw him there, opened it and he was gone and the phone made the noise of the ghost. She's run inside, unplugged the phone and ... is hiding under the covers. I'm not sure about that, but now she's trying to watch TV and the TV is freaking out and... She is rightfully scared.

CREEPY STUFF HAPPENS, GHOST IS IN HER COVERS FEET ARE UP

Toyama section. I think Toyama is the jerk from the Rika section.

The old lady is dead now. She had aged much in the short time since something happened to her daughter-in-law, and Rika is completely non-responsive.

How long was it before he checked on Rika and the old lady I wonder?

Still the house is murdering now and they've got a whole bunch of people in it (the cops have been called). They find the son and daughter in law dead in the attic.

I should put my feet down, but the ghost child might get them (and this is more comfy on current chair).

We also have a name Toshio. Toshio is the ghost child. But we've seen two ghosts I think.

Feet are down. Feet are down is scarier. Kayako, Takeo, and Toshio. The family from the beginning. Husband killed wife then found dead. That's how it began. Or so it seems.

The detective who was in charge of the original investigation quit the force and is the only survivor who was involved. That's nice.

Creepy stuff happens. I am glad there is no one jumping out to say boo. Welfare Bully (not Toyama but something that I failed to catch; Hirohashi) is dead. Toyama is the old detective. He is doomed now; his name is the section title. Actually Rika survived and she was a woman and in the house but.

Still we have two ghosts. Small child ghost (Toshio). And shadow lady demon ghost (Kayako) who is capable of looking at you through security footage. That's creepy. I am liking this movie.

They've come for Rika my feet are up.

Toyama has decided to burn the house down. I think this is gonna fail. After all there are sequels, also it just feels too early in the film for that. The house is fucking with him. Showing him scenes from some past. Toyama has been distracted and the cops are looking for her. Still he has to make sure there's not teenager upstairs before burning the house down with schoolgirls inside. Actually they might really have been there, but it feels wrong... and I think the girl who left had the same name as his daughter.

I hear a cat in the other room, it adds to the creep. The ghost lady is crawling around in a crabwalk, and Toyama is found by the cops in the midst of unintelligible panic. They see why and he runs. They are paralyzed with fear as the ghost comes and that close-up is too close.

The new section is the schoolgirl who ran Izumi. Her friends are missing. Her last name is Toyama. So this is the future? Or was Izumi the girl's older sister? Rika just went missing... or was her mom listening to a recording from when her dad went missing too. I miss something in his conversation with small child that would tell. Izumi has taped up her windows to keep the ghosts out and her schoolgirl friends think she's crazy.

She believes the three missing girls are looking in on her. And she is wearing a hidey hoodie.

Feet are back down.

Izumi is crazy. I am not blaming her. But she's gone off the deep end.

Her mom starts talking about that being how her husband was before he died; that he did the same thing with the windows and curtains. She is a broken shell and fears her daughter will die the same way. So yeah house showed him the future. House exists outside of time and space. Izumi is a demon in pictures having pure black eyes... so do the three missing girls. It is the curse.

I am rooting for Izumi to survive. The despair hoodie bring out my sympathies. I like hoodies. Plus the time is about right that it's possible, and she's seeing the ghost of her father. As for the time I feel it's in the last third of the movie, and they're developing Izumi more in that she was important in the last section and this seems to be taking longer to get to the haunting. So it's possible, though far from assured; I'd have to check the time, 30 minutes remaining and she's dead, even 20 and it's a tossup, 10 and she's probably going to live.

Something has torn off her taped up newspapers of window blocking, forming a tiny hole for the ghosts of her friends to watch her through. They're coming for her. Feet are still down. And chief ghost lady has grabbed her head. She's dead. Pulled into the little altar her mother was praying for her dead husband at.

New section is Kayako... the first victim? And we still have ~20 minutes left (after Izumi's death I had to check). We also have Rika again? I thought she got grabbed... I guess she didn't get grabbed till about when Rika did.

A cat touched her leg and Toshio is under the table. She looks older than in the first section, which is well done.

Rika's friend is at the house. Less ghostly Toshio is there. Rika is returning to the house, passing the police tape, to try and save her. Mariko's footsteps are in the dust. The bright, sunny house she saw is not the one we are now.

CREEPY STUFF HAPPENS.

Feet are up.

They're in your reflection you can't escape now. And coming out of your shirt!

I am torn between scared and almost laughing at the blood drenched crab walking ghost. Like she's been scary doing this before, but coming down the stairs in fake blood it manages to cross some line and I lightly lose the ability to take it serious. Off the steps it gets better, and we get every scene of Kayako it feels like, before Rika is alone in the house. But we heard the news of her disappearance. Ah Kayako's husband is coming. Kayako isn't killing he is? At least Rika he's going to kill as Toshio watches.

No one survives. We see an empty town, flyers for the missing littering it. No one survives. Final Creep. Ending Credits. Upbeat music to help recover from creep.

I want the lights on. I have to walk through a cluttered path in the dark for that. Fire and Brimstone.

#peanutdracolich watches horror #Good Film #Don't Want to Rewatch Though #ju on #the grudge #ju on the grudge

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miss-agent-e-15-jedi · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter Eight

There was an open area a few kilometers from my swamped X-wing, just the right place to set up camp for the night. I had Artoo wait there, then took off my soaked flight suit and draped it over the branch of a nearby tree to dry. After setting up a long plank to use as a bridge stretching from the tip of the ship’s nose all the way to the muddy bank, I then began unloading as much supplies as I could before the ship sank further—possibly all the way—into the water.

Another fantastic feature about X-wings is that there’s a way to access the cargo unit via the cockpit. It’s not as easy as unloading from the belly of the ship, but in this situation, it was better than not being able to access any of the supplies at all. I had to make several hasty trips to and from the camp site until at last, I was able to unload the last of my provisions. I swung a small satchel over my shoulder and took the final box into my aching arms. As soon my hands were full, the lights on the X-wing went out completely, and I ended up having to squint to see in front of me. The thin bridge creaked beneath my weight; everything I was carrying only added to it. Fearing it would snap and send me into the water, I scurried across, keeping my balance and a firm grip on the corners of the box.

As muddy as it was, I was glad to be back on firm, dry land. Pushing my way through tangles of vines, I was soon reunited with my little droid friend. He began to beep rather excitedly. I guess he somehow sensed I was finally finished unloading. I didn’t have a translator of any kind, so I had to guess what he was trying to communicate with me.

“What?” I sighed, tired from all the heavy lifting. “Ready for some power? Okay.”

I ignited a small fusion furnace, welcoming its bright orange glow to penetrate the darkness of the clearing. After briefly warming my hands before it, I began to hook Artoo up to a converter.

“Let’s see now,” I said absentmindedly. “Put that in there…There you go.”

Artoo whistled his appreciation. I slapped my hands together to dust them off and sighed, “Now all I gotta do is find this Yoda…If he even exists.”

I glanced around the eerie swamp, inhaling the thick, translucent mist and eyeing several of the black, dead, willowing trees and their vines; becoming deeper and deeper in doubt about my quest. It occurred to me that I would most likely have to continue the journey on foot. I hoped this wretched environment would have a few things to offer that would increase my chances of survival. I remembered the murky water where my ship was now sinking and hoped there would be at least a small spring that was drinkable, or at least able to be purified somehow. Thinking once more about my X-wing, I began to wonder how long it would be before it sank all the way to its swampy grave. I dreaded the possibility that I’d probably be stuck in this wretched marsh forever, unless the Force could help me find a way, and if Yoda—if I ever found him—would be able to help me out of this situation.

I commented, “Really strange place to find a Jedi master.”

I sat down near Artoo, and opened a ration box, selecting a dehydrated bar. A low growling noise sounded in the distance. I flinched slightly at the sound of it and added, “This place gives me the creeps.” Artoo beeped in reply as I began to eat, and I had no doubt he shared my opinion of the environment.

The nutrition bar had no flavor, which didn’t really surprise me. The food was processed; in other words, designed to last for long periods of time and to keep you alive; not to taste good, as was most of the food issued by the alliance. Having been with the rebels for a few years now, I’d gotten used to bland, processed rations, but that didn’t mean I didn’t get occasional cravings for something flavorful; moments like these made me miss my aunt’s cooking back on Tatooine.

Artoo was beeping comments to me as I nervously chewed and looked around the jungle, listening for potentially dangerous critters that might jump out and attack me.

“Still,” I said. “There’s something familiar about this place.”

Artoo’s next beeps came out as a question. I had no doubt he was wondering what it was about this place could possibly ring a bell to me. To be honest, I couldn’t necessarily place it, either.

“I don’t know,” I answered the droid. “I feel like…”

“Feel like what?”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence before I was startled out of my skin by that weird croaking. I whirled around in the direction of the voice, snatching my blaster out of its holster and aiming it at the source. About a meter in front of me, perched on top of a rotting log and shielding its face from my gun with two reptilian, three-fingered hands, was a minute alien dressed in grayish brown rags that were torn slightly in a few places. Long, pointed ears jutted out from either side of the head, the back of which was draped with thin, ancient, white hair. In one of its hands was a wooden stick, which I immediately assumed it used as a cane. The creature had wrinkles all across its face, making it look extremely elderly.

I swallowed hard and then finished what I was going to say. “Like we’re being watched!”

“Away put your weapon!” shouted the creature. “I mean you no harm!”

Slowly but surely, it lowered its hands to gaze at me with its large, bulbous eyes. I had a feeling the thing really didn’t mean me any harm, but looks could be deceiving, so I kept my gun poised. Your eyes can deceive you. Don’t trust them, Old Ben had told me on the Falcon.

The creature continued, “I am wondering, why are you here?”

Rather puzzled, I hesitantly lowered my blaster. I decided to give this stranger a hosed-down version of the truth; I was unsure if he could be trusted (I was certain by this moment the creature was male), so I answered, “I’m looking for someone.”

He brightened up immediately. I could see his wrinkled face completely now that his arms were no longer hiding it. “Looking? Found someone you have I would say, hmm?” he asked, chuckling.

Quite amusing. Simply because it was true. I had found someone, even if it wasn’t the someone I was looking for. Still, I didn’t feel like giving this stranger the satisfaction. I tried very hard not to laugh, and in an effort to censor my amusement, I simply replied, “Right.”

The creature continued, “Help you I can. Yes! Mmm!”

Taking a mental note of the thing’s backwards speech, I put my gun away rather hesitantly and said, “I don’t think so.”

His ears flared for a moment, as did his eyes.

“I’m looking for a great warrior,” I finished.

This seem to further amuse the creature, who began hobbling in my direction, leaning on the gnarled cane for support as he chuckled.

“Wars not make one great,” he said, groaning as he lowered himself from the root.

Ignoring Artoo’s disapproving beeps behind me, I pinched a couple small bites from the food container into my mouth and motioned toward the creature as something caught his attention. I heard a half-croak, half-gasp of amazement as he picked up the bar I’d been eating.

“Put that down,” I said.

Artoo beeped even louder, the creature took a bite, and that’s when I got mad. “Hey!” I shouted, snatching the bar out of his hand. “That’s my dinner!”

I quickly noticed that my ration box was right next to him and feared he’d take a taste of something else, so I hastily snapped it shut and took that away as well. I heard him spit out the bite he’d just taken.

“How you get so big eating food of this kind?” the creature asked, climbing onto a supply box.

I almost didn’t the question. He was getting on my nerves. Sarcastically, I snapped, “Listen, friend, we didn’t mean to land in that puddle and if we could get our ship out, we would, but we can’t, so why don’t you just…”

I’d barely tossed the bar into the swamp when I was cut off.

“Aww, cannot get your ship out?” the stranger mocked, digging into one of my supply cases.

Above Artoo’s loud beeping, I shouted, “Hey! Get out of there!”

The stranger held up a small device. I made a rough grab for it. He resisted like a petulant child, whining, “No!”

I won the battle and snatched it out of his hands. He groaned.

“Hey, you could’ve broken this,” I scolded.

He paid no attention and began tossing items that weren’t interesting to him over his shoulder, sounding disgusted at each thing he threw.

I couldn’t believe this. I was already in a ridiculous enough situation, and now this curious little creature was rummaging through my supplies and tossing it everywhere. My survival depended on that supplies!

“Don’t do that!” I ordered, shrugging my shoulders.

Artoo’s beeps and whistles suddenly became softer, and the creatures face lit up. Not just metaphorically, but literally as well. A tiny power lamp had caught his attention, and he laughed in wonder as he shone it across his eyes.

Picking up discarded items, I groaned, “Oh! You’re making a mess!”

I saw the lamp in his hand and reached for it. “Give me that!”

The stranger pulled the lamp out of my reach, snapping, “Mine! Or I will help you not!”

I was on the verge of losing my temper by this point. “I don’t want your help!” I yelled. “I want my lamp back! I’m gonna need it to get out of this slimy mudhole!”

Too late to stop myself from shouting the insult. As I tried to grab the lamp from him again, the creature glared at me, and solemnly replied, “Mudhole! Slimy! My home this is! What?”

Taken by surprise, the imp turned his attention toward Artoo. I then watched as an appendage emerged from one of Artoo’s sockets and clamped around the lamp. Now my little droid friend was gonna try and wrestle the lamp from this imp. Brilliant.

The creature hollered, yanking valiantly against the droid’s grip. I realized right then and there that there was no use trying to get the lamp back. Perhaps if I let the imp keep it, maybe he’d leave me alone. With that in mind, I ordered, “Artoo, let him have it!”

The little droid continued to wrestle with the stranger, who reached for his cane and began whacking Artoo with it, shouting, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

“Artoo!” I hollered, becoming assertive.

The droid finally complied, releasing his hold on the lamp. The imp tapped the panel from which the metal arm had protruded shut with the end of his cane. He laughed as the tap produced a ring that resounded against the droid’s metal insides.

Taking a breath and trying not to lose my cool, I thought, Alright, you have your lamp.

“Now will you move along, little fella?” I asked caustically. “We’ve got a lot of work to do!”

The creature responded, “No! No, no! Stay and help you I will!”

Once more, I took note of his backwards accent.

“Find your friend, hmm?” he giggled.

“I’m not looking for a friend,” I said. “I’m looking for a Jedi Master!”

The imp’s face drastically changed when he heard that name.

“Oooh!” He gasped in awe. “Jedi Master. Yoda. You seek Yoda!”

My heart began to race. Kneeling down at the stranger’s eye level, I almost desperately asked, “You know him?”

He nodded, saying. “Take you to him I will.”

He laughed once more and then continued, “Yes, yes! But now, we must eat. Come. Good food. Come!”

He then scampered in another direction toward my left. For a moment, all I could do was stare as trotted into the jungle, with the cane the only thing keeping him from falling. The prize lamp lit up his face. I wondered, how can this thing possibly know Yoda? I mean, he did say his name, but still…

When he was about five yards away from me, he turned, noticed that I wasn’t following him, and coaxed me again. “Come! Come!”

Well, what else could I do from there?

“Artoo,” I said, turning to him. “Stay and watch after the camp.”

I hurried after the creature, ignoring the indignant beeps from my little droid friend.

Stay Tuned for Chapter Nine!

#star wars #episodev #The Empire Strikes Back #first person narrative #chapter eight #Luke Skywalker #r2d2 #Dagobah #found someone you have

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