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yourlocalauthor · 3 years

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What Comes Around Goes Around

Chapter Three: Suprise!

Pairing: Topper x OC (eventually?)

Warnings for this chapter: Just some good old fashion cussing, and a slightly scary scene with an older male so take that with a grain of salt.

Word count: 2k

A/N: so excited to be back to writing! get ready for the next chapter it’s going to be exciting <3

Jo drove back home, pissed she didn’t have her lemonade, pissed that her feet and sandals were all sticky, pissed Topper was such a fucking idiot, just pissed at the entire world. Worst of all Jess and Elle went for a day trip on the mainland, and Jo had no one to complain to. She pulled into her driveway, aggressively, just wanting to go lie on her bed and scream. Her mind came to halt as she slammed on her breaks, her face looking like she had just seen a ghost. She had barely put her car into park, before rushing out of it with the engine still running.

“JJ?” She yelled running to the blonde boy who had stood from his position on her front steps. She engulfed him in a hug, tears swelling in her eyes. JJ winced a bit at the hug, but soon his arms wrapped around her, returning the hug, a little tighter than he meant to. The two stood there for a minute just silent. Soon enough the hug came to an end, once Jo realized she was also angry at him. She quickly let go, shoving him.

“Where the fuck have you been? And what the hell happened to your face.” She said now noticing some fresh cuts and bruising. She took his face in her hands examining it, as he started to speak.

“I went out of town for a few weeks, couch surfed with some people on the mainland, and-” He hissed in pain when Jo touched his cheekbone pulling his face away from her. “Jesus Jo!”

“Sorry! Get inside I’ll clean you up and then you’re telling me everything.”

“Yes ma’am” He said, giving her a salute before opening her door. Jo flipped him, before walking back to her car and turning it off.

“So, I was staying at this shady dudes place, and I think he was watching me sleep so I came back here and slept on some boats, until I accidentally overslept this morning and the cops came and took me to my dad. He was wasted when I got home, so wasted I guess he thought I was a intruder or something cause uh…” He made some punching motions, laughing awkwardly. Jo frowned as she closed up the medical box, and tossed the bloody cotton balls.

“That’s not funny,”

“It is a little,”

She shook her head, starting to bandage him up.

“Where are you staying now?”

“Not sure, probably couch surf some more and then figure it out from there.”

Jo frowned looking at him, she carefully held his face, examining his bruises.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here. At least until we figure a more permanent solution. My mom wont mind, you just can’t fuck anyone on the couch.”

JJ looked at her trying to keep a straight face, but barely lasting a few seconds before smirking.

“You are a pain in my ass Jackson”

“Oh you love me” She said, rolling her eyes and shoving him again. He winced, reaching for his side. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’ll get ya some ice.”

“Thanks.”

She walked over to her kitchen grabbing some ice and filling it in a baggie. “So, is there anything you need? Besides this.” She tossed it at him, before sitting down next to him.

“Actually, there is one thing. I left my backpack at my dads.”

“Oh that's fine let's go grab it right now,” Already popping up, and giving him a hand.

“Just one problem… I left it inside by the front door…”

“No it’s fine, I’ll grab it fast in and out”

“I cannot believe you are doing this for me, I owe you big”

The two sat in Jo’s truck, parked right outside the Maybank house watching. With a deep sigh placing a hand on JJ shoulder.

“If I die, make sure my mom doesn’t find my weed.” And with that she let go and exited the car.

The Maybank house wasn’t much different from when she last saw it. Maybe a few more dead plants but that was it. She didn’t come here often, this only being her seventh or eighth time visiting. Jo took a deep breath, as she stood in front of the screen door. Carefully placing a hand on the handle she pulled it as quietly as possible before stepping onto the porch. She stepped forward, being as quiet as possible when she went to open the front door. Creak The door made a loud creaking noise, as it opened causing the brunette to flinch. ‘Shit.’ She paused, holding her breath as she waited for something to happen. Thankfully nothing did.

She opened the door further peering inside. Her eyes instantly landed on her target, as she stepped inside the old home. She snagged the bag, and almost made it out of the house when. ChackChack.

“Don’t move.”

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck, titty fucking shit mother fucker why the fuck did she even volunteer to do this.’

“I want you to turn around carefully, no sudden movements or I’ll shoot you dead. Ya hear me?”

Jo stayed silent not moving a muscle, fear polluting her body.

“I said did ya hear me?” He cocked his gun again, this time taking a step forward.

“Yes sir.” She said, turning around, now facing him.

“Ain't you that pretty girl JJ hangs with, what business do you have in this house?”

“Sir, your son just asked me to grab his bag, that's all.”

Luke let out a hearty chuckle, the sound filling the house with a haunting echo. “Is that so? Where is the fucker anyway? He too pussy to come in, he had to send in his bitch?”

Jo stood there, not sure what to do or say. This had to be the worst outcome possible from this situation, and it was just her luck she had to actually deal with it.

“Hey! Didn’t your mother teach you any fucking manners? When an adult asks you a question you answer, now where is he?”

“Sir I”

ChackChack

“I’d choose your next words very carefully missy.”

Ptooey

Before she even fully understood what she was doing, Jo spat right at his face and sprinted out the door. She heard him yelling after her, and gunshots firing at her feet, but she just kept running. She swung the car door open, throwing the bag at JJ who huffed in pain. She reversed out of the driveway as possible, and sped down the street. It was only when they were a few miles away did she pull off to the side to take a breather.

“Holy fucking shit.” JJ said, excitement filling his voice. “I have never seen you run that fast before, you came outta there like a cheetah or some shit. Woosh!” He said laughing, before opening his bag.

“Yeah, I know I was there.” She said, rolling her eyes, before relaxing in her seat. “I think my heart is about to explode.”

“The fuck you even do to piss him off?”

“Oh you mean besides breaking and entering into his house? I spat at him?”

“No fucking way,”

“Yes fucking way,”

“You are officially my new hero, we have to throw you a party.”

“What? JJ babes I really don’t need that.”

“Nope! Party in your honor, tonight!” He said nodding, with a determined smile.

“No way you can throw a part in under three hours.”

“Watch me Josephine,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Josephine, Josephine, Josephi-”

“Do you want to walk home?”

“No ma’am,”

“The shut the fuck up,”

Jo, turned around starting her car up again, heading back home.

“I still don’t believe you’ll be able to do it.”

“Fuck you,”

“Love you,”

Soon the car went quiet, until JJ spoke up.

“So, uh have you heard anything from the Camerons?”

Jo shook her head, tapping her steering wheel.

“I heard they threw a funeral for Sarah, and I did see Rafe at a party a few days ago.”

“Wait what?”

“Jess and Elle managed to drag me to some Kook party and we ran into him, he was def tweaked out. But Topper managed to get us out in one piece.”

“Wait hold up, Topper?”

“Yeah he even offered to drive us home-”

“Well did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Drive you home!” The blonde said in an obvious tone.

“Yeah we were all too wasted-”

“I don’t bye it,”

“Ask Jess,”

“I plan on it.”

Okay genuinely Jo thought JJ was joking around about the party. There hadn’t been one at the boneyard in weeks, everyone on the cut mourning the loss of John B. But now it was 7:23 and Jess was helping her pick something out.

“I swear to god Jo, you are not leaving this house in a bikini top”

“Jess it’s just a boneyard party-”

“That you’ll be the guest of honor at!”

“Jess babes it’s really not that big of a deal, I just won’t have to pay for my booze.”

Jess rolled her eyes, muttering something incoherently, as she sifted through the closet.

“Aha! Found it, here wear this.”

She tossed the brunette, some white really frilly shirt, causing Jo to frown.

“Absolutely not, here I’ll wear this.”

She pulled out a neon pink bikini, with a pair of black shorts. Jess shook her head, starting to put away the stuff on the bed.

“You are impossible Jo,”

“I know,” She said, smiling before walking over to the bathroom to go change.

“Are we meeting Elle there?” Jess yelled, changing into a pair of denim shorts and a white button up.

“Yeah, she has to wait until her mom gets home though.” Jo said walking back into the room.

“I’ll have to admit, you do look good.”

“Course I do.”

The drive to the boneyard was weird, for some reason it just seemed like time was going as slow as possible. Not that Jo really cared, her expectations for the part were low. She wasn’t expecting many people to show up, let alone be in a cheery mood. She was actually shocked today, by how lively JJ was. She remembered how devastated he was before disappearing, barely able to crack a smile, and never laughed. But as she pulled up to the boneyard, all her expectations were blown away.

The beach was jam packed, she hadn’t seen this many people here in what felt forever. There was a huge bonfire going, and multiple lines by the kegs, and at the heart of it all, was JJ.

“Holy shit! Did JJ do all of this by himself?” Jess asked, clearly blown away.

“I guess so,” Jo replied, almost at a loss for words.

JJ spotted her truck, and came running. The two exited the car, just as he made his way over a huge grin on his face.

“Jo you made it!”

Before she could respond, Jess butt in, still mesmerized by the situation. “JJ babes, did you really organize this all by yourself?”

“Well mostly, I did have a little help.”

Out of nowhere, Kiara and Pope appeared with two smiles on their faces.

“Surprise,” They both said in unison, still smiling.

Jo ran over to them, engulfing them in a hug. “You guys this is amazing,”

“Well, y’know this party is for you Jo, but we’re also sending a message. We’re letting those figure eight assholes know we're back, and never leaving. Again,” Pope said with a surprising amount of anger in his voice. Jo was a little confused, but didn’t want to question it.

“Well, I guess we’re back bitches!”

The group cheered, before walking over to the beach all catching up, and for the first time in weeks, Jo had forgotten everything that happened. At that moment, she was just there with her friends like it was any regular summer party. Little did she know, that night was about to unravel a series of events she never would’ve seen coming.

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avengersapology-vid · 3 years

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Avengers: College Edition

Steve: Criminal Justice and Studio Art double major. He doesn't want to torture himself with anything difficult and still wants to study what he loves. He is still an over achiever though. Highkey hates frat parties, saw someone twerking upside down and almost cried but stayed because hes the designated driver (responsible KING). prefers small get togethers with his friends. Roommates with sam and bucky!! Joins Criminal Justice club, jokingly rivals with Engineering (Tonys Club) Everyone on campus loves him including the professors, wins Homecoming king and is very happy. Sam jokingly asks to be his queen, Bucky butts in and says "NO, im his queen". Can be found in the library or art studio, usually with ink or pencil markings on his hands.

Tony: Obvi an engineering KING has physics as a minor. procrastinates to the max "No Bruce I have everything under control" *crams for 46 hours straight on a constant IV drip of Redbull and coffee* Super smart and helps draw the blueprint for the new engineering building. Roomies with Bruce! Tony was in a frat for a bit his freshmen year but hated it and wanted real friends (Throws better parties anyway) met Bruce and all the other avengers during a 1301 intro class. Pulls women like no tomorrow. On the presidents list every semester and tutors math for free on the side. He is basically the Dad in STEM. Tries hitting on Natasha but she is just like :/ nah, when her and bruce start dating tony is surprised because bruce is his "quiet little cinnamon roll." Tony constantly teases bruce and is like "yall fuckin (;" Steve butts in "tONY PLZ I JUST WANT TO WATCH THIS MOVIE" Bruce is thankful for steves intervention. You know how he rivals Steves Criminal Justice club? He butts heads with Business Clubs leader (Pepper) until everyone catches them together at a party. Has a caffeine addiction. Works out with Thor and Bucky one day in the rec and almost dies.

Bruce: Physics and Engineering double major (Hardworking KING) In math club with Vision and Wanda. He loves being roomies with Tony because it helps him out of his shell. Likes to draw with Steve sometimes and enjoys the quiet. Doesn't procrastinate and gets things done in a timely manor. 4.0 icon we all strive to be. Him and Nat already know each other, but bond and get a lot closer while studying in the library and they eventually start dating. He takes her coffee when she works across campus and is always almost late to class because of that (He doesn't care though bc thats his BABY) "Um.. Bruce your class is in 5 minutes" "Okay and?.....Wait I have an ex-" *Sprints to his building* Takes boxing at night with Thor, Bucky, Sam and Steve!!! Loves sparring with Thor and can surprisingly take the big buy on pretty well. Gets his butt kicked by Natasha in a MMA class though.

Natasha: Majors in Criminal Justice and Minors in Psychology. Ballet club AND MOCK TRIAL!! Has a Job at the Criminal Justice Deans office and takes MMA classes on the side. She is on Mock Trial with Loki and they actually get along quiet well once they stop butting heads about the case. Introduces Sam and Wanda to dance and they have so much fun. Coffee dates with Bruce!! Her and Steve become RAs in the following years and are the coolest RAs you know. Prefers night classes, Bruce walks her to all of them. Psychology classes are her favorite and really wants to help children one day. Volunteers at a daycare during breaks. Sis can really out drink Tony and Thor. Puts Wanda under her wing and helps her with fafsa and what not. Her and Bucky get the Russian language credit by simply testing out. Has her sh!t together and while she has a lot on her plate she can take it. She is really the Mom of the group. Can be found dancing or with Bruce. Her and Clint are icons in psychology classes.

Clint: Deaf Studies with education minor! (we stan deaf clint in the comics) In the Archery club and wins nationals for the Uni. Loves to draw with Steve. Helps Bruce ask Natasha out! PRANK ICON! loves to do prank wars with tony, bucky, loki and sam. Was in the same frat with Tony but hated it as well. While he seems to have a more reserved demeanor he is still the life of the party. (Like he knows people at the clubs ya know?) Can get in anywhere and helps everyone rent out a club for the night in celebration of midterms being over. Loves reading in the library and loves morning classes and being productive early in the day. Cracks Tonys netflix and hulu passwords (no tony... tonyr0cks69 is not good enough) Wants to teach at a school for the Deaf. Bruce sets him up with a girl from engineering and that is his future wife.

Thor: Physical Education major and Communications minor! Here on a football scholarship and is in a frat (not the asshole one tony was in) and is a partying ICON. Tries to get Loki to party but Loki just wants to drink wine with the cat he snuck into his dorm. Learns Sign from Clint to prepare for his career in education. Loves working out with Bucky, Sam and Steve. Takes up boxing during football off season and spars with Bruce. Despite being everyones fav himbo he gets really good grades and is a very good writer. Loki dorms across the hall from him. Thor actually rooms with Peter. Peter is the freshman baby and Thor takes peter under his wing and introduces him to everyone and helps him with college stuff in general. Also hooks him up with MJ and brings him to the occasional boxing session. Has a loud booming laughter you can hear in all floors of the library when he sees a funny meme. One time he actually makes a very good point and notices a flaw in one of Tony and Bruces projects leaves everyone stunned. Picks on Loki in big brother fashion. Unironically calls weed the devils lettuce.

Loki: Pre-Law and Criminal Justice. LOVES to argue. (Devils advocate ass) In Mock Trial and Criminal Justice Club. Tony jokingly calls him steves sexy secretary in CJ club. Loves Mock Trial and is the president with Nat as his right hand woman. Sneaks a cat he found at the shelter into his dorm and names it muffin. Stays in the Library writing or going over cases. The one time he was taking Natasha a copy of the Mock Trial case packet and caught her and bruce smooching. (He screeched) "Haha funny joke yall heres the case packet BYE." He automatically texts the group chat "i think nAT AND BRUCE HAVE SOME TEA FOR US HMM". Lets Peter and Bruce come over to his dorm because he knows their roommates can get a little too much sometimes. Loki also becomes an avid twitter user and thats how he gains popularity on campus. (He called the uni out for their awful and expensive parking) Was able to convince the Dean with tony and steve to create a new parking lot. Caffeine addict!!! Him and Tony always bump into each other at the coffee shop. Brings baked goods to meet ups with the gang. Loves to play pranks (especially on Tony) Him and Bucky come up with a genius prank on him and even get pepper involved. Best dressed on campus and is in the fashion club. He is the embodiment of dark academia.

Sam: Criminal Justice Major with Aerospace Engineering minor. Gets introduced to Bucky and Steve during move in and they literally become brothers. Is both in Criminal Justice Club and Engineering Club. In the Historically Black Frat on campus and takes huge pride in that. Parties with tony and thor BIG TIME. Procrastinates by throwing paper airplanes at Bucky until Bucky is like "Um...dude your paper is due in like two hours." At that moment Sam got into work faster than he ever had. Loves gossip sessions with Loki and Wanda. Works out a lot with Bucky, Steve and Thor to get rid of stress. When he and Bucky finish a final they go to loki's dorm and ask "Hey can we see your cat." Helps prep food for friends-giving and decorates the dorm for holidays. HATES 8ams so so so much. Steve promises him pancakes if he gets up and goes. Binge watches shows during weekends and screams when Destiel is finally canon. Loves running and gets a Track Scholarship when Thor gets him to join a sport. Gets Peter to join track.

Bucky: criminal justice major and psychology minor. Buck is also in ballet club with Nat, it really helps him relax and gives him a free space to think (also he runs that shit like no ones business) Criminal justice club as well and LOVES to work out and box. One time Sam accompanies him to ballet and Bucky pushes Sam into a split... the scream was heard for miles. "Sam ballet is good for athletes it helps w-" "Yeah but its not good for my balls" Doesn't willingly procrastinate but once in awhile he will forget an assignment, you best believe his eyes will snap open from his nap and get to work asap. For one of his psyche labs he had to question Steve as if he were Steve's therapist to which Steve responds "Hey bro you dont have to hit a nerve that deep" He also likes to do dance with peter since it helps him get away from Thor for a bit. Not a big partier but once the weight of finals are off his chest you best believe he will go all out. Picks on Nat and says hes gonna steal her man, to which tony interjects and says "Not if I do first" Bucky also has a very comfy dorm, comfy lighting and tons of pillows, the man loves his sleep... and so does everyone else. Sometimes he finds peter, sam, THOR, tONY EVERYONE just napping in his bed before their study time. Overall, bucky is a smart boy and his time in college is kind to him.

Wanda: English Major and Education Minor. After being an orphan Wanda knows what it feels like to not have a parental figure there and she wants to change that for other kids by becoming an english teacher. She volunteers at an orphanage, specifically the one her and pietro were in for a brief moment when they came to the states. She loves to draw as well and takes plenty of art classes with steve. She paints a portrait of the entire gang and gives it to tony as a graduation present (he cried). She loves to do volunteer work for children and also spend a lot of time in the library, She helped Nat calm down before Bruce asked her out. Her and Loki are in constant competition for best dressed. "Loki ill let you win best dressed but you have to let me see your cat" "ugh fine... btw your shirt doesnt match your boots" "hEY" Her and Peter take alot of intro classes together and are constantly running around craft stores trying to get the right stuff for projects. Visits Vision at his Job on Campus and he visits her where she volunteers and eventually they start dating. She is constantly getting visited by pietro at 4am asking "Um do you have milk" "Pietro its 4am what do you ne-" "my OREOS"

Pietro: Track star business major, frat ICON with Thor. poor boy is STRESSED he hates college and is here on a track scholarship, constantly late and running around getting shit done. Queen of late assignments but still gets them graded because he is in Track. Yeah he has alot on his plate but he still parties with thor for hours. When he is drowning in assignments Clint is always there to help him, Bruce also helps him with biology and the more science-y classes. Likes to mess around and race sam at track practice. Not into coffee but will run on all the monster energy drinks you could possibly buy. Seriously is tired of 8 a.m courses, he just wants to nap after practice. Walks into the study room that everyone was in and actually looks more sleep deprived than tony. He gets a lot of tips from steve on how to have an easier time in college and it really helps him.

Vision: Grad student working on a civil engineering masters and a TA. Meets Wanda in the library and she asks him where the biographies are. He mistakenly says they are on the 2nd floor "Uh theyre actually on the third" "Then why did you ask?" "Cause I wanted to talk to you :)" He swooned. Through Wanda he met Tony and Bruce and became their best friend, He helped out a lot with engineering club and got them far. He spends a lot of time doing research for his masters degree, he loves relaxing with the group on weekends and picks on pietro as if he is already apart of the family. Him and Loki bond over intellectual conversations from time to time. Bruce and Nat go on double dates with him and Wanda. Went to a bar once with tony and bruce and had to stop tony from singing Queens entire discography, he had the best night that night. Helps everyone with getting into jobs and into grad school in general while everyone helps him let loose and have some fun.

Peter: Peter is a Physics major and eventually works his way up to biochemistry. (hardworking icon) He is the freshman baby of the group and is introduced to them through Thor. He dances with Buck and Nat sometimes as well. Tony obviously takes peter under his wing and helps him with assignments. One time everyone was in the same study room and him and pietro have a redbull shot gunning challenge. When Peter wins Thor picks him up and almost yeets the poor boy into the ceiling. "VERY WELL DONE YOUNG PARKER YOU SHOULD BE DOING THAT WITH BEER IN NO TIME." "Thor plz" Tony and Thor help him ask MJ out and even spy on them during a dinner date. (Imagine thor with sunglasses and a scarf around his head pretending to be tonys date) He feels so accepted in college because of the gang and gets all his work done on time. Goes out of his way to get everyone christmas presents and is so excited for friendsgiving. Becomes a little stressball during finals and midterms and stays in the library till it closes. He spots loki alot in there and helps loki with science classes while loki helps him with political science classes. He meets MJ through wanda and is obviously blushing the whole time while being introduced. Gets embarrassed when the guys flirt with aunt may. "guys plz stop" This is when Sam earns his "milf hunter" nickname. "Pete hows your aunt?" "She doesnt want you sam i-" its not like that... actually it is like that"

Coulson: Alumni Icon. Is the gangs Intro professor and is the reason why everyone meets eachother. (the class was chaotic indeed) Coulson loved that class so much and he still gets visited by everyone from time to time. He is obviously close with Nick. They were there that night when Tony was signing Queen at the bar and couldnt help but laugh.

Nick Fury: Dean for criminal justice and is heavily involved with criminal justice club and mock trial. He is tired of everyones shit as always. Makes a tiktok account for the criminal justice club and has no idea how to manage social media so gets Loki to help. Has to delete it when Loki commented "hah losers" on the engineering tiktoks page. He looks intimidating but in his office he has a picture with the club and has all the gifts he gets on display. (He even framed lokis comment because it was hilarious afterall)

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crimson-dxwn · 3 years

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AT ODDS 6 (Kal Skirata x F!OC)

Summary: Tea gets spilled at Kyrimorut. Ordo gets involved. Ori makes a choice and a new enemy.

Warnings: Mando profanity, pregnancy, SPOILERS for Republic Commando books (all but the last one), medical shit, surgery, fucking SADS

As always, so many thanks to @detroitbydark who lets me screech about my weird fic and Kal and Ori! Also this is barely edited be kind, I’m on my psych rotation and barely scraping by.

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Kal realizes he’s slipped the figurine into the pocket of his bodysuit semi-consciously in his hasty retreat from the apartment. Knotted Jonah wood whittled smooth forms two stylized figures, one large and one small, their hands joined between them.

He barely registers the ride back home and comming Mij. They need a plan, and they need one fast if they are going to find her. He knows little about how the Empire treats their prisoners compared to the late Republic, but he isn’t about to have any illusions of honor or fair play. After all, he doesn’t play fair himself. But there’s a hydrospanner thrown into the mix. What he doesn’t know is how the Imps treat prisoners with … unique health conditions. Or if they even give half a bantha’s shebs. Odds are they send men and women alike to those osik’la camps he’s gotten word of. Yeah, the Empire was equal opportunity like that.

If Mereel can’t slice into the system remotely, they were going to have to do an old-fashioned infiltration. He’d ask his ad’ike if they were up to task, there’s no way he could ask to put them in danger, not after the entirety of their lives being war. It hurts him to even think about asking. But he has to do this, even if it’s just his sorry shebs.

He tries to put on a good Sabaac face when he’s back in the karyai, discreetly gathering up all the surplus weapons they have that he finds might be useful for an infiltration into a heavily armed and fortified position.

Mereel of course, catches on within minutes.

“You’re going to find her,” Mereel interrupts. Kal yanks his head up out of the gun locker to look at his son. “And you didn’t even think to ask for backup?”

His son’s tone is accusing, edging on hurt. That he did not expect.

“It’s my fuckup, son,” he replies, “I’m the one who needs to fix it. I can’t ask you to do this.”

“What’s so special about this doctor?” Mereel slams the door of the locker shut. It’s obvious his ad’ika is protective. They all are.

“She delivered your ba’vodu’ad, Mereel. I’m pretty sure she saved Parja’s life.” Kal says, keeping his eyes on his work, cleaning the weapons, arranging the ammo he needs. Sharpening his father’s three-sided knife.

“And that’s enough to go up against the Empire? ”

He’s going to have to spit it out. Mereel is looking at him expectantly, sure that he’s going to change his mind, see reason.

“She’s pregnant, son.” Mereel, who has been away for the events of the last few months, just stares back at him in a puzzled fashion, brows slightly furrowed. Looking at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Maybe he has.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

In comes a second voice, and the accusatory tone startles him enough that, when added to his baseline urgency and anxiety, causes his hand to slip and nick itself as he sharpens his knife.

“Osik,” he hisses, holding pressure to the cut as blood wells, looking up to the figure in the doorway. Ordo. Mereel stares at his brother, unsure whether he is joking. Kal sighs. He should know better, trying to keep things from them. The last time he was successful at that was when they were four.

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe,” Ordo replies, just this edge of indignant, “is she carrying my vod?”

A strange and protective piece of him flares at Ordo’s tone and Kal stands, still holding the cloth to his cut hand.

“Most likely.”

“Then we need to get her back.” Ordo meets his eye finally and Kal nods, satisfied, and starts gathering ammo from the safes. This time Mereel moves to help, still in a rare state of stunned silence.

By the time they’ve gathered what they need and loaded it into aayhan, Mereel has a willing team assembled and what they know of the building schematics up on a datapad in the karyai. Fortunately for them, the team won’t be breaking into any prison blocks, which are bound to be heavily guarded.

“All we have to do is get into the information security room that houses the main terminal,” Mereel starts confidently. “We can stay far away from the security blocks and the bucketheads.”

“Though it would be fun to bust some vode out of there,” Scorch adds.

“Not our mission,” says Mereel, regret plain in his voice, “we’ll have to get them another time.” The realization that they were leaving prisoners at the mercy of the empire sobers the group even more. It was becoming more and more apparent that more planning was needed before they could root out the Empire on Mandalore. Meanwhile, Kal had set Uthan to the task of trying desperately to make their own homebrew vaccine.

---

It’s been many many years since he’s fastroped. Lately, he has been finding that it’s been years since he’s done many things. Fastroping, underwater diving...fathering kriffing kids. He swallows, hard and regroups himself. Every single one of them needs to be focused if they’re gonna pull this job off.

Yes, he’s fast roped before. But he’s never liked it. Where his sons get twitchy when confined to tight spaces, he finds himself sweating more than usual under his beskar the more stories they climb. Right now, they’re about ten stories up, far above the sensors of the garrison and way above his tolerance for heights. They have about a minute to pull this off before the Imps realize this transport is lingering too long in their airspace.

Mereel, Sev, Scorch, and Kal are in Aayhan, hovering silently above the Keldabe imperial garrison in the inky black late summer night. The humidity sticks his tactical garments to his skin, making it itch and crawl in addition to his surging adrenaline. That was one thing that never changed, no matter how old he got, no matter how many missions he’s finished - that nauseating spike of pure fear and bliss.

He gives the signal to move move move and soon he’s roping down, strong north Mandalorian wind whipping around him, soaking through his underlayer. The four of them land silently on the roof of the compound, and Scorch starts laying a strip charge along the floor to create a hole leading below, straight into the admin offices. Four sets of Mando armor gleam lowly in the moonlight. It’s a perfect night for an op like this, whipping wind obscuring any slight noise they did make and the faint whine of aayhan’s engines. The charges detonate with a controlled bang and flash of bright light that briefly blinds his HUD. Kal switches to night vision.

*His child*. It’s barely a concrete concept in his mind yet, but an instinctual piece of him knows the truth. The timing is too perfect for him to be wrong. The way Orla had looked at him in the med center…

The stakes are too high to fail, and distracting thoughts get men killed. Mereel leads the way through the door, rifle at the ready, and Kal banishes his musings to the back of his mind, pushed away by a fresh rush of adrenaline. It’s a stealth mission, and they navigate by night vision, as silently as their boots will allow.

They stalk through dark quiet hallways lined with innocuous office doors until they reach the end, what is presumably the CO’s office, with its durasteel double doors and obviously larger size.

Mereel starts in on slicing the door panel while Sev shoots out the camera in the hallway corner while the rest of them listen for any approaching patrols. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed they were there, whether it was the hole in the roof or the blacked out camera. The double doors open quietly and they head inside. Vau’s boys guard the door while he and Mereel crowd the desk in the middle of the room.

“I need a few minutes to get into this,” Mereel says, eyes locked onto the screen before him. One of his slicing tools is between his teeth.

“You’ll get it, son. We’ll take care of anything that tries to get in our way.”

So far it looks like no one has noticed them. The imps must really be confident in the plan to neutralize Mandalore with so few guards and patrols. Sweat drops trickle down the back of his neck and into his bodysuit.

Mereel studies the datapad stripping the system for a few more moments and turns it towards Kal. There’s a concerned look stretched across his handsome face. Together the watch the recorded scene on the screen before them.

There’s Orla, still in her work clothes, talking with an Imp who’s behind this very desk, flanked by two stormtroopers. He knows those gestures - she’s spitting mad, barely containing the fury that was directed toward the man behind the desk. Without audio he can only guess as to the contents of their conversation. The Imp behind the desk gives a short reply and nods curtly to the right-hand trooper who, without hesitation, raises his blaster rifle and cracks her across the face with the butt end. She doesn’t even see it coming. Even in the shades of blue from the holoprojector the blood is obvious, trickling down the side of her face.

Kal is livid, trembling so finely it’s barely visible, and he almost forgets where they are for a moment. Deep in enemy territory, with hostiles incoming any minute.

Mereel makes a disgusted noise from deep in his chest as they watch her be pushed to the ground. They follow the video feed where she’s led to a cell. His breath catches. There’s a chance she’s still here. His hope is tempered, however, when an alarm starts to sound from within the garrison. A patrol must have finally found their breach point.

“Sarge?” warns a voice from outside the door. It’s Sev, by the gravelly tone.

“Almost finished,” he shouts, over the screeching din. Mereel continues to work furiously, his bulk hunched over the console. He’s able to parse through incredible amounts of data with immense precision; Kal can practically feel the concentration rolling off him.

“Wait,” Mereel says. Kal looks over at the screen. They’re centered on a video feed again, this time outside. The sheer amount of prisoners in line for the transport is shocking enough, but the fact that none of them are in armor is even more appalling. The Imps are slowly stripping their culture away, plate by plate.

“She’s not on the manifest for this transport, even though the records say she leaves.”

It doesn’t make sense. Unless… Kal knows Mereel must be thinking the same as him. Judging by the brutality of the footage they’ve watched, the stories from around the planet, he wouldn’t put it past the Empire to take care of a pesky problem in the easiest way they knew how. It wasn’t something that supposedly peaceful, orderly governments liked to keep records of. His dread and guilt intensifies, leadening his limbs already weighed down by heavy beskar.

He chokes the words out. He has to know. “Is there any footage of…” Kal can’t bring himself to say them. It doesn’t need to be said, Mereel knows what he’s looking for. He’s been in a war zone long enough to know that armies aren’t sentimental.

“No, no footage. Just them leading her away.” The alarm continues to blare. It could be minutes, seconds before they have to blast their way out.

“Here.”

Kal steels himself to watch. It’s his fault, he reminds himself again. Two more fresh marks in his ledger. His arm reaches automatically to his son’s to steady himself. He feels Mereel’s slump ever so slightly, whether it’s in relief or defeat, he can’t tell.

“I have what I need,” he says, “time to go. Debrief can wait for later.” Distant footsteps start to echo towards them, modulated shouts following close behind. They were about to be grossly outnumbered, by the sound of it. Kal shoves his helmet back on, heading through the doorway and signaling Sev and Scorch to follow.

They wind through the garrison, avoiding both patrols and squads of stormtroopers sweeping the building. It’s laughably easy compared some of the other heists they’ve pulled - except he speaks too soon. As they make their way out of the back door of the garrison onto the Keldabe streets, one squad catches up to them. Ordo has aayhan back at Kyrimorut - earlier they had decided it was too risky for the four of them to fly home and possibly expose the homestead. So instead their plan was to run the winding streets and strategically borrow a transport. The problem is that Kal is pushing sixty and the other men are - physiologically at least - still in their early twenties. They’re a lot kriffing faster than him, even with his ankle fixed.

The streets and alleys twist and turn, switching from ancient cobbles to smooth duracrete without warning. Easy enough to get lost if you’re a local, they are impossible to navigate as aruettiise. Soon the four are panting, ducked into an alcove off a cobbled alley. Finally, it seems they’ve dodged the patrol. Only time will tell if they were recognized. Kal finds he doesn’t much mind if they know his face. In fact, he hopes they do. He wants to meet that garrison officer.

-------

Imperial Rehabilitation Center

Weeks later

19 BBY

Life isn’t all doom and gloom. They are kept...occupied. Like rats in a maze. Ori shares a bunk with another Mandalorian, the only other there. Taren is a kid really, small and slight except for her distended belly. It’s obvious she’s used to wearing armor by the way she walks, how upright she holds herself, arms swaying slightly away from her body. And how she closes in on herself when she realizes it’s not there, when it’s nighttime in their room and thinks Ori can’t hear her sob breathlessly into her pillow every night.

It’s almost childish, the way they’re herded from room to room. Chaperoned and on a schedule, like one would handle a naughty child needing extra discipline. It was how she imagines Coruscanti boarding schools some of her medical school classmates attended - polished stone floors and crisp uniforms, all strict routines and synchronized repetition. It’s meant to numb the mind, making days run into weeks. She suspects they’re kept intentionally disoriented. After all, most of them are still political prisoners, and many she’s found have important connections on their respective homeworlds.

They’re at lunch, scattered around their assigned tables. Generously, they are allowed to converse during meals, though their seats remain assigned. The ‘rehab center’ has proven to be much more expansive than she expected - some rooms are swallowingly large, like the one she is in now, and some are as small as a broom closet, connected by narrow winding hallways. The building itself could have been any number of things in a past life - a school, factory, or prison. She supposes it doesn’t matter much now. Today there’s a newcomer, sitting quiet and sullen at a back table with the Corellians. Time would tell if she was one of them or if she hailed from a different world.

An arm jostles her, hitting her square in the ribs. It successfully knocks her out of her analysis of the newcomer.

“-did you hear what I just said?” Taren says, mouth full of tasteless nutritional paste. It’s far from delicious, but you ate what they give out and she is hungry *all the time* nowadays. A fleck lands on Ori’s face and she wipes it away with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, al’verde.” Commander. Her eyes roll automatically. She knows she doesn’t deserve the title. Discreetly, Ori shushes the younger woman - they’re lucky the stormtroopers here don’t understand Mando’a.

They put together kit for new stormtroopers, morning and night. It’s another endurable humiliation. She stabs at the cubes bitterly with her spoon, scattering crumbs across the table. They’re not allowed forks or knives, not after Taren’s first week. A tiny smile flits across her face as she thinks on the memory.

Ori feels like a geriatric compared to the spry warrior, though they’re less than ten years apart in age. She’s seen things in that time, lost people, buried dreams. Though Taren is looking older and older by the day, cooped up in this place.

“Theera is gone,” Taren says, “she wasn’t at breakfast either.”

Looking around and finding no sign of the woman, Ori hums an agreement. She’ll be gone for good soon, and her baby as well. Every time someone delivers it sends a sense of unshakeable dread down her spine and into the pit of her stomach. All of them are marching slowly towards that finish line.

The artificial hierarchy into which they are forced has made the two Mandalorians de facto leaders, despite Ori being one of the newer inmates and to cement her as *alverde*; her medical expertise makes her invaluable.

The room hushes as Dr. Loesch sweeps down to the cafeteria, all business in crisp grey scrubs, so confident in his admiration. He insists they call him ‘Doctor L’ like he’s a popular lecturer at a university. He’s the worst kind of hut’uun, just as bad as the rest of the Imps she’s met here. Loesch is in charge of their medical care, all 100-some of them, including herself. Loesch towers over most of them, even herself.

As a physician, Ori is personally insulted at his complacency, the fact that he is perfectly content in his post and cemented in his belief that what he was doing is just, his complicity. She stabs at her cubes some more to try and make herself feel better.

As a woman, she’s decidedly less surprised. Men like him are everywhere, tall and handsome, handed success on a silver platter, born into families of privilege and power. Taking and taking with no thought of the carnage they leave behind.

He saunters his way over to their table and sits with a charming smile.

“Beviin,” he starts, “I heard through the gossip chain that you were an obstetrician before you came here?”

It’s physically painful to keep her retort in hand. She’s been here long enough to see women sent to solitary. And to see them come back, changed indefinitely.

“Mmm,” she mumbles affirmatively through a mouthful of cubes. She swallows. “Yes.” Keep it simple, that’s easy enough.

He smiles sardonically. “How ironic,” he adds, obviously pleased with the revelation. Expectantly, he looks around the table to gauge his joke, and they catch on, laughing softly, nervously, afraid of what might happen if they don’t. Even Ori joins in, the butt of the low blow, though her simmering rage ratchets up another level.

They finish the rest of their lunch largely in silence and Loesch pulls her away when she files out with the others.

“Ms. Beviin,” he says conspiratorially, “I know it must be difficult for you to be here.”

The man over her, face too close for comfort, his voice deep and low. Alarm fills her as the other people in the room dwindle until it’s just the two of them and the scattered troopers on the upper level. All Ori can think about is where the nearest exit is located when she realizes he’s still speaking to her.

“...what do you think?” He waits patiently, a benevolent expression in his face. He blinks too little, she thinks, and his eyes are devoid of expression, shining with an amused sort of malevolence. They’re a strange shade of brown...no, green? The little noise he makes in the back of his throat brings her back to their conversation.

“Ah...sure?” she replies weakly, stunned and frozen.

“That’ll be nice for the other inmates,” he says. Incredibly white, straight teeth flash as he smiles down at her. “I think it will give them comfort to have you there. I’ll have the guards collect you when it’s time.”

——

Three nurses eye her from across the suite. They wear sweet matching hospital uniforms, in the same soft fabric as hers except in a delicate petal pink. With a pang, she misses her fellow nurses and doctors on Mandalore. Who knows how many had fallen ill? Been arrested? The way they clustered in a little group reminded her of her schoolmates, when they found out she didn’t like fighting, whispering rumors from across the room. That she thought she was better than them, that weird girl who was more concerned with grades than winning fights and impressing boys. Now they stand across the room from her like a little bunch of flowers in their coordinated outfits, identical and perfect. She’s an other in their world, someone to be feared and hated, pitied at best.

Orla stands awkwardly, waiting for the show to start when her stomach flips. The scrub top she has on stretches across her middle awkwardly, pulling at the seams and the soft shoes that cover her feet are obscured by her bump. The strange sensation returns, a little differently this time, just the barest flutter, deeper down than that nervous feeling. Her baby. She lays a gentle palm over the swell, as discreetly as she can, still feeling the scrutinizing looks of the women across the room.

Another nurse wheels a bed into the room, complete with Theera shivering atop it, her hair and gown drenched in sweat. Orla rushes to the head of the bed as she’s prepped for the operation. Theera is dazed, too exhausted to make much sense of anything right now, glassy eyes focused on the ceiling. She smoothes back the sweaty hair from Theera’s forehead.

“Hey cyar’ika. It’s Ori,” she says softly. The woman’s eyes focus a little, just enough to meet hers. She bumps their foreheads together. It was as much to comfort herself as much as the other woman. Non-mandos typically didn’t understand the meaning behind the gesture. She can’t squeeze her hand like she wants to - it’s being hooked up to IV tubing.

“I’m cold,” she mumbles. Some of it is adrenaline, some from fear, and the rest from the icy operating room temperature to keep the surgeons comfortable. Drenched as she is, it’s no wonder Theera is shivering.

Ori asks the wary tech for a warm blanket, terrified of overstepping and getting her shebs kicked out of the operating room. She’s promptly ignored in favor of his work. Dr. Loesch enters the room and the nurses titter around him while he ensures everything is prepped to his liking. Ori settles for as much skin to skin contact as she can get with Theera, trying to warm her, mumbling comforting nonsense into her ear as Loesch starts to work. A warming bassinet waits ominously against the wall for its prize.

A thin cry interrupts their mumbling and Theera’s eyes sharpen at the noise. Loesch holds the little thing over the curtain separating them indulgently, just for a moment. A boy, he says, and she and Theera find themselves mesmerized by the bloody little thing and his tiny squished face and flailing arms, already so angry at the world. He’s held up for a second, allowing Theera a cursory glance and then whisked away by the nurses to the bassinet. His mother is still paralyzed on the table and it makes it all the more unjust that she isn’t even allowed to touch her son, see him up close. The nurses at the bassinet laugh and coo, oblivious to Theera, who starts weeping pitifully. Fat tears slide down the side of her face, wetting the starched white sheet beneath her head.

Ori is in the middle of the absolute emotional chaos around her. Theera crying, Dr. Loesch talking with his assistant about weekend plans, and the nurses with the baby, who have turned back at the sound of crying to glare at them judgementally. She can practically hear them now. Serves her right, their looks say. She deserves it. The rage congeals around Ori, settling itself in her throat. This feeling is exactly what had put her in this place to begin with and she knows she has to control it, use it somehow. She watches them place a little bracelet around the infant’s ankle and scan it into a datapad. They don’t bother with Theera. It dawns on her then that if she’s lucky - incredibly lucky - she can use the Empire’s obsession with order against them.

She makes her way over to the bassinet under the ruse of joining the indulgent cooing that is going on, trying not to throw elbows before she’s kicked out of the room. The little boy’s leg is caught for a heel stick an she gets her chance. The number on the leg band is just visible, only for a second. She sends a prayer up to the Manda that she gets it right.

Taglist

@clonewarslover55 @simping-for-fives @808tsuika @jedi-mando @cherry-cokes-world @nelba @fractiouskat @passionofthesith

#PHEW THIS SUCKED TO WRITE UGH #how do people write long chaps like goddamn I'm drained and this took MONTHS #i suck basically lol #At Odds #Republic Commando #Kal Skirata

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mosylufanfic · 4 years

Text

You’ve Got Mail

This is for the second day of Killervibe week, the Meet Cute theme! Based on something that happened to a Facebook connection of mine, although as far as I know it didn’t turn out this cute.

You’ve Got Mail

The first note was stuck to Caitlin’s door with a piece of scotch tape. She frowned and unfolded it, wondering if the new neighbor already had a problem with her erratic hours.

Hi! (read the computer-printed note)

I just moved into 202 and wanted to introduce myself to all my neighbors. I'm Cisco Ramon and I'm starting my Masters' in electrical engineering at the university. Normally I'd knock and say hi but this whole quarantine thing kinda keeps me from doing that. :(

I speak English and Spanish and a little bit of Klingon. I cook sometimes but mostly get too much takeout so any good restaurant recommendations are welcome! I like tinkering and video games and SF/F books and movies and shows, like you couldn't tell from the Klingon. I have a cat named Buttercup who is a giant butt and I love him. If you see him outside, I’d really appreciate it if you called or texted because he's not an outdoor kitty.

He'd added a picture of the cat, staring menacingly at the camera as if promising that anyone who tried to pet him would lose a finger. Caitlin smiled in spite of herself.

Hope you have a great day! Cisco Ramon, Apt 202

He'd also added his phone number.

Caitlin read it through a couple of times before looking across the courtyard and up a floor at 202. It being 11:30 at night, the door was shut tight. There was a muted bluish flicker in one of the windows, like he was watching TV. It would be rude to knock on his door at this time of night.

Also, they were all practicing social distancing right now.

Caitlin was a champ at social distancing. She could social-distance on Olympic levels.

She went into her apartment, shutting the door behind her.

***

On her way to the hospital the next morning, she left a plastic container full of cookies on the mat of 202. There was a note carefully taped to the top.

Thank you for your nice note. Here are some cookies to welcome you to the building. They're chocolate chip. If you can't eat them, it's okay to throw them away. I've been baking a lot in quarantine.

She was halfway to the hospital when she realized she hadn't put her name or apartment number on the note. So for all Cisco Ramon knew, some anonymous benefactor had dropped cookies on his doorstep.

She sighed. She really was bad at this, just like Jay had said.

***

There was another note on her door when she got back home, this one hand-written in a sprawling, jagged scrawl.

Hello Cookie Queen!

I hope I'm not creeping you out or anything. I saw you through the window, leaving the cookies this morning, but I didn't want to freak you out by opening up the door right away.

They were delicious. I will happily eat any baked goods that you want to get rid of. That's not a beg, by the way. I can make my own cookies, once I find a good grocery store. (Any recommendations?) Just if you're the kind of person who likes to make entire batches and then has to eat them for the next three weeks, I can help with that. I don't have any allergies or anything.

Anyway I think I've weirded you out enough for one note.

Cisco

***

Hi Cisco

My name is Caitlin Snow and you already know my apartment number. The grocery store I like is the Safeway at the corner of Livingston and Bellmore because they are very firm about masks and disinfecting right now, much better than the Kroger. Also closer. There's a Taco Galaxy across the street from them that delivers until midnight and I like their chicken taco salad.

She stared at the note for a few minutes, then wondered if he would think she was saying a Mexican place because he was clearly Latino. She crossed out and substituted The Golden Wok on Bellmore delivers, and they do a good sweet and sour chicken.

I am a first-year resident so my hours are kind of strange but please let me know if I can ever help out with anything.

Caitlin, Apt 106

She chewed her lip for a moment, then added to the last paragraph before the sign-off, I wasn't weirded out.

Then she wrote it out in pen on a clean sheet of paper and found another plastic container to fill with butterscotch oatmeal cookies.

***

Hi Caitlin!

Nice to have a name and stop calling you Cookie Queen. Unless you want me to continue calling you Cookie Queen, that's okay too. Thank you for the second batch! Just as delish.

I took your tip about the grocery store and stocked up. Also got green pepper beef at the Golden Wok. Nom, nom, nom! Any ruling on the Taco Galaxy across from Safeway?

I'm major impressed with the residency thing btw. Are you doing okay? Is your ICU totally packed? I have a sewing machine because I do cosplay but obvi no cons right now, so I've been making masks and stuff too. Do you need any?

Cisco

***

Cisco,

We're doing okay right now. I'm not treating many COVID cases personally because I'm in my first year, but everybody is doing more than they would have normally. If you have extra cloth masks, I know some shelters and the local food bank are distributing them.

I like the chicken taco salad at Taco Galaxy.

She paused, studying the note. She wanted to continue this conversation. She liked him - his warmth and his humor. Maybe she should start texting him. She had his phone number, after all. Or would that be weird?

She wrote down, Where did you move from?

Caitlin

***

They traded notes back and forth, at least once a day but more often twice. Their correspondence ranged from the mundane - he'd moved from Coast City, she had come here from Gotham - to the personal - neither of them had very good relationships with their families - to the downright philosophical.

I dunno, he wrote one rainy day, I feel like the people who say this is God's punishment or whatever are totally getting God wrong. Like I don't believe in God anymore but if I still did, I don't think I'd believe in that kind of God.

A virus is a virus, she wrote back. There's debate about whether a virus really counts as alive or not, but it's just doing what all life does. The pandemic is definitely down to human hubris and selfishness and shortsightedness. No need for divine punishment. And I don't believe in that kind of God either.

At work, she would mentally compose parts of her next letter during her rare free moments, and every time something funny or strange or horrible happened at the hospital, she found herself telling him about it. No names, of course, because of HIPAA, but writing them down helped her work them out.

The day he mentioned his most recent ex, she caught her breath, a strange flutter in her stomach.

She did a number on me, I'm telling you. It's weird because I do think she liked me, maybe as much as I liked her. It's just she was in some bad stuff with her brother, and she wasn't really interested in getting out. When I realized that she was using me to help him out, I was done. Probably way after I should've been, but that was the last straw. I'm not saying that breakup was why I picked CCU for grad school and moved here two months early but I'm not NOT saying that.

She lay on her couch reading the note over again. His tone was cheerful, as it usually was, but she could almost feel the regret and self-recrimination behind it.

Also, did this mean he was single? He hadn't wrapped it up with any other mention of someone else he was dating now.

I know what that's like, she wrote back. My most recent ex was -

She lifted her pen and stared at the paper. How to describe Jay?

My breakup with my ex was pretty bad too. You just start to doubt everything that you ever thought or felt. Like, is this real or is this another time bomb he put in your head?

God RIGHT he wrote back. The good exes leave nice little presents for you in your head. You think of them because you see a movie they liked or something they used to wear and it just makes you smile. But the bad ones leave freaking land mines and time bombs.

***

More than once, she arrived home to find a bag of takeout or a tupperware full of some recipe he'd tried out. His tastes were a little more adventurous than hers, but she willingly ate whatever he left. Knowing somebody was thinking about her was as nourishing as the meal.

And some of it was really good.

She kept baking, leaving cookies and bread and other treats at his doorstep. Sometimes she experimented, too.

One day as the first leaves were turning, she left a jar with a note taped to the top. I decided to try something. Let me know if Buttercup likes these.

She got a reply within hours.

Buttercup would like to formally request to move into your apartment now, because I'm a terrible kitty papa and never thought of making him treats. Also I'm very cruel because I won't let him eat the entire jar no matter how much he yells. You are a genius.

She laughed and wrote back, Obviously you're an excellent kitty papa because you love Buttercup very much. It was a pretty simple recipe. I'll attach it for you so you can make your own. I'm glad he likes them.

She didn't see a reply on her door that night. This wasn't unprecedented, though it was unusual, and she found herself cycling through a few anxious loops of what-if - what if he was sick? what if he had nothing more to say to her? what if it had been just too weird for her to make treats for his cat? what if he was talking to someone else now?

But the next day when she went out to get her mail, she found a note tucked into her screen door. She grabbed it and opened it up.

Hey I realize this is kind of a weird question since we've been passing notes all this time, but would you be okay with texting? Or FaceTiming or WhatsApp or something? I don't know if you kept my number but here it is again anyway.

She read the short note through a couple of times, trying to identify the feeling bubbling up in her stomach.

She did like writing the letters. There was something so calming and old-fashioned about sitting down with paper and pen and writing everything out that was on her mind. And getting a letter back felt like a present.

But on the other hand, this felt like a step toward something . . . new. Something more. Closer.

She looked up at 202. A curtain twitched, and she caught her breath. Cisco leaned against the glass, spotted her, and lifted his hand in a wave.

She waved back.

She'd seen him a couple of times, leaving something at her door or going to grab his mail. She liked his face and his smile, what she'd seen of them.

He saw the note in her hand. That much was obvious. Even from here, he looked a little nervous. Or maybe that was her, projecting.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped in his number. He looked away from the window, reached out to grab something, and lifted his phone to his ear.

"Hi," she said shyly. "It's Caitlin."

His smile spread over his face, big enough to bathe her in warmth from one floor and a whole courtyard away. "Hi, Caitlin," he said. "Cisco here."

She smiled back. "So. How's your day going?"

It would be a long time before they actually got to meet in person, without a mask. But she was looking forward to it.

FINIS

#Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #killervibeweek20 #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #current events #neighbors AU #quarantine AU #fluffy fluff #the flash

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luckcycler · 4 years

Note

hi! i know you have a info page (or whatever it's called) for your characters butt doesnt work on mobile? anyways i wanted ask if you could tell me what ultimate talents they have?

Huh…

Not sure how invested you are with how you phrased your question but I just copy-pasted all the info on this ask.

I’ll put it under read more because otherwise, it will be super long

Basic info:

Heartbreak is a story of 16 former students of Hope’s Peak Academy who have found themselves locked in the bizarre setting of a love hotel. And thus, a new exciting killing game takes place once again!

As the concepts of guilt and justification clash together inside the sickeningly pink walls of the hotel, one starts to wonder who exactly is the morally righteous one?

And to shake things up… a new rule has been added to the monopad.

The cast:

Aino Inoue

Former Ultimate Mermaid

Age: 20

Class:75-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Long Walks on the Beach, Astrology

Dislikes: Sand

It’s time for opinions! Meaning opinions from this woman! This is Aino Inoue, the ultimate mermaid! Or more precisely a professional underwater mermaid actress. It appears childhood career dreams do come true! She became a very known underwater actress for her infectious charm and her ability to stay underwater for 9 minutes without breathing.

Her attitude towards others is very straightforward but that doesn’t mean she is unfriendly, actually quite the opposite and especially if she is under the liquid courage. What’s personal space? She certainly doesn’t know.

Aino is a very nosy person and loves to give relationship advice to other people, even when these other people really don’t want it. It doesn’t help that quite a lot of these advices come from her obsession with astrology and blood type personality theory.

She can also be seen more often than not with a cocktail in hand to a point her constant state of tipsiness worries some of the others. In Aino’s opinion, it just makes her twice as fun!

Daisuke Okamoto

Former Ultimate Robot Combat Champion

Birthday: May 25th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Logic Puzzles, Memes

Dislikes: Raisins in Bread, Academic writing

Here comes the local memester! Daisuke Okamoto is the current robot combat champion. But despite his promising career path in the art of mauling battle robots and much to everyone’s bafflement. After his time in Hope’s Peak, he went to study engineering at his local university. He refuses to tell why he had such a change of heart even when he still regularly competes.

Daisuke is a second-generation immigrant with his mother being American and father being Japanese. Because of this, his sense of humor is influenced a lot by western internet culture. He tends to joke around a lot giving him a carefree attitude. He loves to entertain, although in serious situations his joking nature can come off as insensitive.

But under all the jokes and terribly outdated meme’s, he is very intelligent and a hard realist who wants to know every detail of the rules and isn’t afraid to ask them from Monokuma.

Gina Higanbana

Former Ultimate Biochemist

Birthday: October 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Poetry, Family

Dislikes: Frankenstein (Story), Sour Plums

Speaking of eccentric mad scientists! Gina Higanbana, the ultimate biochemist is the sort of person who definitely befriended every monster under her bed when she was young. Gina is a boisterous workaholic which has paid off since she is known most for her study of parabiosis. Unfortunately, not all of her fame is from positive feedback, as some of her testing methods have been found very unorthodox…

Gina presents herself as larger than life, after all, she is a woman of science! Though she delves with modern problems, her way of talking is very old fashioned, and even poetic, making her sound like she would fit right into a 19th-century romance novel.

While being a semi loud presence to the group, Gina tends to withdraw to her own space and has trouble talking about subjects outside of her interests. But when it comes to teaching neighbor kids how to turn a volcano eruption experiment into a baking soda canon, she is the right person to tag along.

Hotaka Muramaru

Former Ultimate Florist

Birthday: January 27th

Age: 22

Class: 73-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Frogs, Bellflowers

Dislikes: Kiwa Fukuda

Hotaka Muramaru, the former ultimate florist… Well, a former florist, really. He isn’t doing too hot in his life at this moment. These days he mainly does gardening work around his area. It is unfortunate as he was known for his striking floral arrangements and attention to small details before his family’s flower shop business went down.

Hotaka as a person is very forgiving by nature. He doesn’t like causing conflicts and it is very hard to get him angry. Despite these positive traits, he seems to be nice for the sake of being nice which makes it hard to get close to him in a way that matters outside of everyday small talk. It seems preserving what little image he has left is more important to him. This has also made him quite the perfectionist.

Kana Nakano

Former Ultimate Lifeguard

Birthday: May 2nd

Age: 25

Class: 70-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Children, Geocaching

Dislikes: Spontaneous Plans

Kana Nakano, the ultimate lifeguard is very passionate about her job. She is the mom friend of the group you know you can always rely on in any hardships, niche killing games included. She has become a very popular lifeguard at her local kids’ poolside as she has a knack for talking to children. Though because of this her way of talking can sound very condescending when speaking to other adults. She tends to simplify her words and soften the meaning much to some of the group’s irritation.

As a person, she can also be very stubborn until she meets her goal. If nothing else, she makes a great leader figure with a lot of survival abilities and experience in tough situations.

Katsurou Furusawa

Former Ultimate Hunter

Birthday: September 5th

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Sewing, Peace and Quiet

Dislikes: Wet Socks, Attention

This timid yet patient boy who looks like he just crawled out of a swamp is Katsurou Furusawa. Though he doesn’t like talking about his talent that much, he is known as the ultimate hunter. He got his title for his exceptional trap making skills and the ability to stay unmoving for hours to no end, blending to his environments seamlessly, and waiting for a pray to trigger his traps.

Personality-wise, Katsurou is bashful and likes to talk to himself rather than others. He has a tendency to be a people pleaser, disregarding his own beliefs and feelings on topics just to appease both sides of the argument. He was never a problem child, as he has always done what his parents told him to. Even accepting the invitation to Hope’s Peak was not his idea.

Katsurou is also a huge daydreamer. He seems to be more comfortable with the world inside his head than the real world, and it shows.

Kiwa Fukuda

Former Ultimate Scapegoat

Birthday: December 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-B

Blood type: AB

Likes: Citrus Fruits, Tacky Decorations

Dislikes: Paper Cuts

Though she looks quite sporty, her talent is far from a healthy career. This awkward and accident-prone woman is Kiwa Fukuda, our protagonist. Unfortunately to some, she is known as the ultimate scapegoat, though this information is confidential especially in court. Her line of work is basically taking the fall for a singular person’s or even a whole company’s mistakes. If that’s not deemed realistic, she will direct the fault towards a more suitable candidate. The amount of guilt Kiwa’s work as a scapegoat leaves her with has made her desensitized and apathetic towards others.

Personality-wise, Kiwa is laidback and can come off as an airhead thanks to her apathetic demeanor towards their current situation. She tends to joke about terrible subjects that make people around her a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

Kiwa is also clumsy and tends to get involved in accidents without trying to. Be it an injury, a misunderstanding or a terrible accident, it’s easy to assume she always has something to do with it whether it was her fault or not. Kiwa now wears a bicycle helmet all the time to make sure she won’t get a third fracture on her skull.

Kohaku Iwatomi

Former Ultimate Gemologist

Birthday: June 4th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Shiny Things, DIY

Dislikes: Loneliness

This is Kohaku Iwatomi and he is happily ready to talk your ears off! Kohaku is known as the ultimate gemologist, mainly because he changes his specialty in gemology quite often, always wanting to try out something new. He seems to excel in all the areas he has tried out so far through pure dedication and excitement towards his profession. Though, for some reason, he has been working as a gem appraiser in his local pawnshop for longer than his peers thought he would withstand to.

Kohaku is a very cheery young man who loves to mingle no matter the topic. If you know him, you probably know his whole life story. He doesn’t like silence, nor does he bode well if left alone for too long. He isn’t narcissistic though as he is very empathetic and wears his emotions on his sleeve, he just really likes company and he has so much information to share with everyone!

Kohaku also has a liking towards thrift shop clothes and DIY projects hence his striking and pretty mismatched appearance.

Masami Kiyokane

Former Ultimate Croupier

Birthday: July 17th

Age: 22

Class: 73-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Board Games, Philosophy of Ethics

Dislikes: Alcohol

As if there were not enough party poopers in this group… This is Masami Kiyokane and he is known as the ultimate croupier. He got his title through diligent croupier work at organized events and after coming of age, at established casinos. Masami also has gotten quite good at seeing who is cheating and he knows most card games by heart. He seems fascinated by game rules in general.

Masami’s personality is pretty uptight and passive-aggressive. His way of talking tends to be a colorful use of personification, especially when he is going on a tangent and complaining about something. Though he talks big, very rarely is his bite worse than his bark as he mutters under his breath before admitting he is in the wrong.

Masami has a very strong moral system he believes in. His rather judgmental attitude is unusual for someone who has a hobby of learning about ethical philosophy though and often he gets called a hypocrite for playing favorites. He is not very happy about that.

Mei Kaneko

Ultimate Phonologist

Birthday: March 21st

Age: 18

Class: 77-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Corvidae, Accents

Dislikes: Wasting Time

This young girl is Mei Kaneko. She is the youngest of the group as she is the only one still studying in Hope’s Peak. She should be set to graduate soon and she is more than excited to continue with her dreams towards a real working life as the ultimate Phonologist!

Personality-wise, Mei is very energetic and will give her all to any task at hand. She is also very loud and a bit of a daredevil. If you tell her to not push the red button, she will definitely push the red button.

Growing up, Mei’s neighborhood had always been surrounded by corvids. As she slowly got more familiar with them, she developed a fascination towards the crows that kept playing in her backyard. Mei had been studying dialects and languages since she was little thanks to her bilingual home and decided, quite abruptly, that her life work from then on would have to deal with establishing communication with corvids.

Nori Ikari

Former Ultimate Sailor

Birthday: December 8th

Age: 20 (?)

Class: 75-A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Folk Tales, Making Rope Knots

Dislikes: His Knee Brace

This theatrically boisterous man is Nori Ikari, the ultimate sailor. Believe it or not, he is as young as 20 years old, which has led some of the group to believe he is a vampire in disguise. Nori comes from a vast lineage of sailors of different ranks but all just as proud seafarers! Nori got his title as the ultimate sailor after recklessly making a week-long fishing trip alone in a trawler boat made for a crew of 10.

Nori tends to tell long tales of his ancestors which sound just bizarre enough that no one is quite sure if Nori is speaking the truth or not. To be honest, everything he says just sounds downright like a big fish story all the way down to his accent. Is this man real? No one has a good answer to that.

Personality-wise Nori can be pretty intense. He has a habit of making a bigger deal out of very normal things. Nori values honor and traditions and tends to get quite defensive if his integrity is challenged. And if needed, he might challenge you to a sword fight at a parking lot if he deems you need a fair ass kicking.

Okemia Momose

Former Ultimate Opera Singer

Birthday: March 10th

Age: 24

Class: 71-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Vintage Aesthetic, Home

Dislikes: Hope’s Peak, Luck

This nervous woman is Okemia Momose. It’s been a while since people have heard her sing, but she is still regarded as the ultimate opera singer. She got her title for her incredible range and her ability to hold a note for almost half a minute.

Nowadays though, her fame is shadowed by a traumatic event she went through in one of her performances. She was one of the performers at her local opera house which was run by a Yakuza family. However, there was a very strained turf war going on around the area that one day resulted in a shoot out at the opera house. Unfortunately to Okemia, she got caught in the crossfire and a bullet hit her temple. Though she survived, she got inflicted irredeemable damage to her brain which developed into a stutter.

Despite her towering over everyone with her height of a 6’5 feet, she is not very confident in herself. Okemia is a very high-strung person who tends to think the worst possible thing will definitely happen to her. Though she is nervous she has a lot of resentful opinions that are made from wise words

Shion Arai

Former Ultimate Figure Skater

Birthday: July 23rd

Age: 21

Class: 74-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Rhinestones, Straightforwardness

Dislikes: Cleaning, Bootlickers, Mornings

This person here is Shion Arai the ultimate figure skater! Under all the glitter, rhinestones, and an eccentric personality lies a somewhat kind-hearted individual who is willing to cooperate… as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them.

Shion got their title thanks to their impeccable ability to adapt and improve fast. They have won multiple competitions in their teen years despite starting the sport at age 12, which is considered quite late. After graduating Hope’s peak, Shion’s placement in the podiums has started to steadily drop. If asked about the slow decline of their career, Shion just shrugs nonchalantly, leaving it at that.

Shion identifies as nonbinary and they are very prideful towards their identity and their achievements. Despite this, they are also incredibly lazy and rarely bothers to do something they don’t want to. Their goal is to go where the bar is the lowest and if that’s not possible, they WILL complain.

Suzu Nagahashi

Former Ultimate Ballerina

Birthday: November 1st

Age: 21

Class: 74-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Rainy Days, Leather Jackets

Dislikes: Dancing

This cold and assertive young lady is Suzu Nagahashi, the ultimate ballerina and she is not here to get herself killed over some dumb motive. Suzu has been known for her skills all her life. Rumor has it her mother, a former ballerina, started teaching Suzu how to dance the moment she was able to take her first step. Absolutely no one was surprised when she got her invitation to Hope’s Peak, though she rarely showed up to school thanks to her harsh performance schedule.

Suzu is very stoic and she picks her words carefully. Though her tone of voice is very serious, her pink frilly dress makes her attempts to be taken seriously harder for her. Luckily Suzu is stubborn and will try her utmost best to keep the situation she has been thrown in solely under her control.

Tetsu Asukaze

Honorary Ultimate Taxi Driver

Birthday: October 1st

Age: 26

Class: N/A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Radio, Coffee, Extraterrestrials

Dislikes: N/A

This funky young man is Tetsu Asukaze and he is known as the ultimate taxi driver. Who would’ve thought that was a talent, huh? Tetsu’s situation as an ultimate is a bit different from others because he only discovered his talent after getting old enough to drive which meant his high school days were already over. Despite this, Hope’s Peak decided to give him an honorary title of an ultimate taxi driver. Whatever that means…

Even though Hope’s Peak had given a public acknowledgment of Tetsu’s talent, he doesn’t think much of it nor does he feel he really belongs with the other ultimates.

Personality-wise, Tetsu is your serene local cryptid whose life has no order and looking at his sleeping schedule it’ll stay like that. Despite his harmless chaos, he is a very sweet lad with a passion for the unknown and obscure theories.

Tsubaki Ito

Former Ultimate Mortician

Birthday: May 8th

Age: 24

Class: 71-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Medical History, Bad and Gory Horror Movies

Dislikes: Spirals

This unnerving and small woman is Tsubaki Ito, the ultimate mortician. She was born as a miracle child to an old couple that ran a mortician family business. In fact, everyone in her extended family is at least a generation older than her. As the years went by, her family slowly passing away from natural causes had become a regular occurrence.

Tsubaki is specialized in body restoration and desairology, as she tends to work with victims of causalities. She got her title by her ability to make even the worst of murder victims to look like they are merely sleeping in their caskets.

As the concept of death is an old friend in her family, Tsubaki has become desensitized towards the subject and can come off as insensitive towards the killing game. But what can you do when your daily routine occasionally includes pulling out a chainsaw from someone’s chest cavity due to a gruesome accident? Despite this, Tsubaki is very sweet and will address everyone with an endearing tone.

#Anonymous #drs heartbreak #fanganronpa

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secret-engima · 4 years

Text

Cindy and Nox Sib HCs

So. Since I just wrote something way angstyier than I intended it to be, let’s all have some nice sibling Cindy and Nox fluff feels!!!

-Cindy is one of the few people that can and will shamelessly tackle Nox in greeting without fear of a violent reaction.

-One of the reasons for this is that Nox gave Cindy his magic when he was ... idk 15-16? Either just before he was discovered by Regis or some point after. Anyway this means he can sense her coming at any time and so she never startles him.

-Cindy loves being able to carry her toolboxes literally everywhere via magic. She also stores spare changes of clothes and extra food and water and medical supplies in there just in case because she is inherently practical like that.

-Nox is a Protective Big Brother.

-This does not mean he tries to shelter her from fights or danger or aggressively run off her boyfriends (though he is perfectly willing to do the last one if Cindy gives any indication he should).

-No, this means he takes Cindy aside and teaches her how to kick absolute butt. He puts her through the same kind of training that leaves Noctis and Co wheezing on the ground. Cindy hates it, but also loves it.

-Cindy alternates between a scary-powerful Nif sniper rifle Ardyn got her for her birthday or a giant honking greatsword that Nox gave her out of his armiger.

-Sibling hikes. It always ends with both of them staggering back to Hammerhead, exhausted from daring each other to do harder and harder hiking trails and rock climbing things.

-Cindy is the master of the Sibling Flop. You know the one. The one where there two thirds of the couch is available for sitting but your sib is on the One Third You Wanted so the only thing to do is flop dramatically onto the couch so half of you is on your disgruntled sibling and the other half takes up the remaining two-thirds of the couch somehow. Yeah that.

-Nox is perfectly content to be on the receiving end of the Sibling Flop.

-Movie Night has been a thing for these two since Nox was 13 and Cindy was 12. They will argue over who’s turn it is to pick a movie and then peanut gallery their way through the other’s favorites (Cindy likes action movies and racing films or basically anything with lots of Cool Cars. She also likes Rom Coms, which makes Nox despair a little on movie night when she picks the Sappiest Things Ever).

-Hugs! Cindy knows Nox is touch-starved but trusts few people, so when they are in the same area, Cindy tends to flop on Nox somehow. An arm through his arm or over his shoulders or coming up from behind to drape over his back. Nox appreciates it, but he also wonders if Cindy has any idea HOW MANY people think that they’re dating because of this behavior.

-She has all the ideas. She doesn’t care. Plus it keeps some of the more annoying would-be suitors away so score.

-Nox will bring her Cool Things that he finds on his trips. And by Cool Things I mean top secret Nif tech. and by found I mean stolen from the base he then proceeded to blow up. Cindy as reverse engineered so much Nif tech that by the time she’s 25 she’ll probably know more about Nif gunships, weapons, mecha units and cars than the original designers of those same things.

-Cindy approves of Nyx as Nox’s girlfriend.

-Cindy also teases Nox mercilessly about said girlfriend.

-There are probably rumors that Nyx, Nox, and Cindy are a threesome, and while in private Cindy wrinkles her nose at the thought of dating Nox (ew, he’s her brother from different parents thank you), out in public if someone’s being annoying about asking her out she will happily saunter up to Nyx and Nox and muscle her way in on their date but hooking arms with the both of them. Nyx just goes with it because she totally gets wanting to avoid annoying suitors, and Nox will look over his shoulder at the annoyance in question with a Deadly Look that does a lot to make them back off.

-Cindy probably gave serious consideration to joining either the Crownsguard of the Kingsglaive because Axis needs all the help he can get looking after Nox. Nox talked her out of it because he knew she loved working as a mechanic with Cid and he didn’t want herself throwing herself into a war zone for his sake.

-Cindy figured out how to put a motorcycle in her armiger. Nox was a Regret.

-Driving video game tournaments. Cindy wins because she cheats. According to Nox anyway.

-Nox has taught Cindy how to do high-society dances because she bugged him into it. She now takes shameless pleasure in showing up to royal functions in a dress JUST this side of country hick and pretending to not know anything about fancy noble dances and stuff until Nox invites her onto the dance floor with a long-suffering expression and she just Slays It.

-Nox once made a bet with her over something, Cindy lost the bet so she had to go to her next royal function PROPERLY dolled up in a dress of latest fashion and attractive makeup and with her hair done up pretty.

-Tredd walked into a wall during his patrol when she went by.

-He wasn’t the only one.

-Noctis got a crush on Cindy when he was 12, Cindy thought it was adorable. Nox just sighed.

-Honestly I’m tempted for Cindy to join the bros on their road trip, not at first, but during the frantic searching, Cindy manages to track Nox down and it like “we’re all going back to Hammerhead!” and Nox sheepishly agrees only for the 3 of them to get yoinked to another dimension and so the “phone dead no contact” thing is suddenly Cindy’s problem too.

-Picture her in FFXIV, wowing all those mechanic people with her engineering skills as she uses garage to fix the Regalia with her own tools that she pulls from thin air.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #ffxv #cindy aurum #nox lucis caelum #sibling relationship #ignoring the other half of sibling interaction that is fighting and quarreling #because i'm recovering from angst #so there

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shawtygonemad · 3 years

Text

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 4

Fem!9th Doctor x Male! Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

The Doctor and Ross made their way back to the observation gallery. The Doctor went over to the panel on the wall and started to do scans.

"That wasn't a gravity pocket. I know gravity pockets and they don't feel like that." The Doctor turned to meet a tree. "What do you think, Jabe? Listen to the engines. They've pitched up about thirty Hertz. That dodgy or what?"

"It's the sound of metal. It doesn't make any sense to me," Jabe replied.

"Where's the engine room?"

"I don't know," he paused, "But the maintenance duct is just behind our guest suite. I could show you and your…husband."

"He's not my husband," she corrected quickly.

"Partner?"

"No."

"Concubinus?"

"Nope."

"Prostitute?"

Ross finally butt in, annoyed. "Whatever I am, it must be invisible. Do you mind?" He frowned. "Tell you what, you two go and pollinate. I'm going to catch up with family. Quick word with Michael Jackson," he referred to Cassandra.

"Don't start a fight," she warned. She turned and took Jabe's offered arm. "I'm all yours," she smiled.

"I want you home by midnight," Ross called after them.

The two aliens made their way into the maintenance duct. They conversed a little as they continued down the hall of wires. It seemed like it went on forever.

"So tell me, Jabe, what's a tree like you doing in a place like this," she asked.

"Respect for the Earth."Jabe gave a small smile. "Well, perhaps it's a case of having to be seen at the right occasion."

"In case your share prices drop?" She smiled back. "I know you lot. You've got massive forests everywhere, roots everywhere, and there's always money in land."

"All the same, we respect the Earth as family. So many species evolved from that planet. Mankind is only one. I'm another. My ancestors were transplanted from the planet down below, and I'm a direct descendent of the Tropical Rainforest."

"Excuse me," she pardoned herself as she took out her Sonic Screwdriver. The Doctor began to scan the door panel.

"And what about your ancestry, Doctor? Perhaps you could tell a story or two. Perhaps a woman only enjoys trouble when there's nothing else left. I scanned you earlier. The metal machine had trouble identifying your species. It refused to admit your existence."

The Doctor froze. Jabe knew who she was. He knew what happened. The pained Time Lord stared off, flashing back to that fateful day.

"Even when it named you, I wouldn't believe it. But it was right. I know where you're from. Forgive me for intruding, but it's remarkable that you even exist. I just wanted to say how sorry I am."

Jabe gently placed a hand on the Doctor's arm. She instinctively placed hers on top of his. A single tear dripped down her face. She quickly wiped the tear and opened the door to the engine room. The Doctor shook her head, ridding herself of the painful memories. They both stepped inside the engine room.

"Is it me, or is it a bit nippy?" The Doctor questioned while staring at the giant fans running at full blast. "Fair do's, though, that's a great bit of air conditioning. Sort of nice and old fashioned. Bet they call it retro," she laughed and turned from the giant fans. She then began to scan another panel on the wall.

"Gotcha," she said as she pulled off the panel cover. A metal spider-like creature scuttled out and up the nearest wall. "What the hell's that?"

"Is that part of the retro," Jabe questioned, innocently.

The leather clad alien aimed her screwdriver at the spider as Jabe lassoes it.

"Hey, nice liana," she complimented with a smile.

"Thank you. We're not supposed to show them in public."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anybody," the Doctor reassured. "Now then, who's been bringing their pets on board?"

"What does it do?"

"Sabotage."

"Earth death in ten minutes," the computer reminded.

"And the temperature's about to rocket. Come on," she led Jabe back out of the wire pathway, and back to the hallways. They both quickly made their way to the steward's office.

Once they were outside the office the Doctor noticed the smoke, and smell coming from within. The steward was dead.

"Hold on. Get back."

She soniced the door's panel, causing the sun filter to rise.

"Is the steward in there," asked Jabe.

"You can smell him. Hold on, there's another sun filter programmed to descend."

She quickly ran off, following the signal. She hoped no one was in the room. She soon found the room with the descending filter. The Doctor started to work on raising it as fast as she could.

"Anyone in there," she called out.

"Open the door," she heard Ross yell from within. She rolled her eyes, not even surprised.

"Oh, well, it would be you. Hold on. Give us two ticks." She spoke as she continued to work.

"Sun filter rising," the computer announced.

Ross and the Doctor both began to relax.

"Sun filter descending," the computer announced once more.

"Just what we need," the Doctor said, annoyed. "The computer's getting clever."

"Stop mucking about," Ross yelled.

The Doctor began to stress out. "I'm not mucking about. It's fighting back."

After a few nail-biting seconds the Doctor finally got the filter to rise, and stay up.

"The whole door's jammed. I can't open it. Stay there!" She told him before heading off towards the observation gallery.

The Doctor walked inside the gallery as Jabe was giving everyone a briefing. She took the spider from Jabe, and inspected it once more.

"I'm afraid the steward is dead," Jabe informed them.

"Who killed him," The Moxx of Balhoon asked.

"The whole event was sponsored by the Face of Boe. He invited us. Talk to the Face. Talk to the Face," Cassandra said.

"Easy way of finding out. Someone brought their little pet on board. Let's send him back to master."

She set the spider on the ground. It scuffled off towards Cassandra, scanned her, and then moved on. It then moved onto the black gowned group.

"The Adherents of the Repeated Meme. J'accuse," Cassandra accused.

"That's all very well, and really kind of obvious, but if you think about it…" The Doctor moved towards the group. The leader swung its arm at her. She caught it, and ripped it out. "A Repeated Meme is just an idea. And that's all they are, an idea."

She pulled the main control wire from the arm. All of the Adherents fell to the floor.

"Remote controlled Droids. Nice little cover for the real troublemaker. Go on, Jimbo," she nudged the spider. "Go home."

The spider quickly scuffled off to Cassandra.

"I bet you were the school swot and never got kissed. At arms," Cassandra commanded. Her attendants raised their spray guns.

"What are you gonna do, moisturize me," she asked sarcastically.

"With acid. Oh, you're too late. My spiders have control of the mainframe. Oh, you all carried them as gifts; tax free, past every code wall. I'm not just a pretty face," Cassandra smiled.

"Sabotaging the ship when you're still on it? How stupid's that?" The Doctor crossed her arms.

"I'd hoped to manufacture a hostage situation with myself as one of the victims. The compensation would have been enormous."

"Five billion years and it still comes down to money," the Doctor was astonished at the selfishness of humans.

"You're just as useful dead, all of you. I have shares in your rival companies and they'll tripe in price as soon as you're dead. My spiders are primed and ready to destroy the safety systems. How did that old Earth song go? Burn, baby, burn."

The space station shook as the spiders were activated. The force fields suddenly disappeared. They were vulnerable.

"Bye, bye, darlings," Cassandra smirked before she and her attendants beamed out.

The heat levels began to rise.

"We have to reset the computer by hand. There must be a system restore switch. Jabe, come on. You lot, just chill," she told them as she exited the gallery.

The Doctor and Jabe sped to the engine room. They only had two minutes to restore the system. No pressure. Once inside, the Doctor quickly searched for the switch. She spotted it behind the three giant fans.

"Oh, and guess where the switch is."

The Doctor pulled a breaker lever and the fans began to slow a bit. As soon as she let go and stepped away the fans reset their speed. Jabe grabbed the lever and held it down.

"You can't. The heat's going to vent through this place," the Time Lord protested.

"I know," the tree told her.

"Jabe, you're made of wood."

"Then stop wasting time, Time Lady," Jabe used the correct gender term of her race. The Doctor grinned, and nodded.

She made it passed the first fan easily. Once at the second fan she looked back at Jabe. He was still okay. They could do this! She turned back to the fan. Timing it perfectly, the Doctor ran through. When she reached the third fan a cry of pain was heard behind her. She turned to look. Jabe had combusted, and was burning alive.

'No!'

She couldn't help him. It killed her. The Doctor had to keep going. Jabe's death wouldn't be meaningless. It'll be harder to get through the last fan since they were back on full blast.

The fans were going faster than expected. The only way she could get through is if she slowed down time. It was something they were taught to do in the Academy. It wasn't easy. It took lots of concentration.

She closed her eyes and steadied her hearts. Her entire body needed to be calm. She breathed slowly and focused. In her mind everything started to slow down. The fans were at a crawling pace. Holding her breath, she stepped through.

Once she realized that it worked, her eyes flew open. She bolted forward and pulled down the breaker.

"Raise shields"

The Shields raised just in time as the Earth exploded. Once her adrenaline slowed down, she decided to return to everyone. The Doctor walked back under the fans. She stopped and stared sadly at the ashes of Jabe. No matter how many companions she had, there will always be one constant one: Death. She turned away, and strode back to the main gallery.

When she stepped inside, she saw some members mourning their loss. Seeing Ross also lifted a weight off her shoulders. However, first thing she needed to do was inform Lute and Coffa. She stepped over to them and placed a hand on both of their shoulders.

"Jabe is dead," she spoke softly. "He died a hero. Make sure he has an honoured ceremony once you return home. I'm so sorry." She turned and stepped away to let them mourn in private.

"You alright," Ross asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm full of ideas, I'm bristling with them. "She spoke angrily. "Idea number one, teleportation through five thousand degrees needs some kind of feed. Idea number two, this feed must be hidden nearby."

The Doctor walked over to the displayed Ostrich egg. She smashed it to reveal a small device.

"Idea number three, if you're as clever as me, then a teleportation feed can be reversed." The Doctor reversed the device. Cassandra beamed back in.

"Oh," she said, shocked.

"The last human," The Doctor growled, very cross.

"So, you passed my little test. Bravo. This makes you eligible to join, er, the human club," Cassandra lied.

"People have died, Cassandra. You murdered them."

"It depends on your definition of people, and that's enough of a technicality to keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries. Take me to court, the Doctor, and watch me smile and cry and flutter," Cassandra began to creak.

"And creak," asked the Doctor.

"And what?" Cassandra spoke, confused.

"Creak. You're creaking."

"What? Ah! I'm drying out! Oh, sweet heavens. Moisturize me, moisturize me! Where are my surgeons? My lovely boys! It's too hot," Cassandra cried out.

"You raised the temperature," the Doctor spoke coldly.

"Have pity! Moisturize me! Oh, oh, Doctor. I'm sorry. I'll do anything," she begged.

"Help her," Ross said, sympathetically.

"Everything has its time and everything dies," She said stone cold.

"I'm too young," Cassandra cried before exploding.

Without a second glance, the Doctor left the room. She needed pace to calm down. She didn't return until everyone was gone. When she walked back into the gallery she saw Ross staring out where the Earth once was.

"The end of the Earth. It's gone. We were too busy saving ourselves. No one saw it go. All those years, all that history, and no one was even looking. It's just-" he stopped himself.

The Doctor knew just what to do. She gently took his hand. "Come with me."

The both silently held hands as they walked back to the TARDIS. When they were inside, Ross sat on the jumper seat, defeated. The Doctor moved around the console returning them to London. When they landed, the two stepped out into a crowd of people.

"You think it'll last forever, people and cars and concrete, but it won't. One day it's all gone. Even the sky." The Doctor took a deep breath. She was going to tell him. "My planet's gone. It's dead. It burned like the Earth. It's just rocks and dust before it's time."

"What happened?"

She looked at him with sad eyes. "There was a war, and we lost."

"A war with who?" The Doctor stayed silent. "What about your people," Ross went on.

"I'm a Time Lord… well, Time Lady. I'm the last of the Time Lords. They're all gone. I'm the only survivor. I'm left travelling on my own 'cos there's no one else."

"There's me," Ross told her.

"You've seen how dangerous it is. Do you want to go home," she asked, waiting for him to confirm her fear.

"I don't know. I want…" he paused, and sniffed the air. "Oh, can you smell chips?"

The Doctor laughed, "Yeah."

"I want chips," he smiled.

"Me, too," she grinned.

"Right then, before you get me back in that box, chips it is! My treat. We've only got five billion years till the shops close."

They grinned at each other before Ross grabbed the Doctor's hand, and led her towards the glorious smell of chips.

***

Thanks for reading! You're all fantastic!

#romance #adventure #doctor who fanfic #doctor who #doctor x rose #the doctor #doctor who fanfiction #ninth doctor #fem!9th doctor #male!rose tyler

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lamiahypnosia · 4 years

Text

The Outer Worlds Review

When the Outer Worlds was announced I was kind of on my back foot about it. Private Division made a huge deal about how they were the one who made the original Fallout and Fallout New Vegas- you know, that Fallout game that you actually like that wasn’t made by the devil Bethesda.

And as the kids say ‘weird flex but okay’. Every time a new game releases, especially a new intellectual property, people always whisper about how money was being passed around to get good reviews. I don’t know about all that. But I do know this.

The Outer Worlds is not Fallout: New Vegas 2. So sorry.

I posted a meme recently that made the joke that the Outer Worlds was Borderlands New Vegas but that wouldn’t strictly be true . I haven’t actually played Borderlands extensively but yeah a space Western is very much like other space Westerns- there’s an old saying ’ there’s nothing new under the sun.’ People make frequent comparisons to things because they feel familiar. ‘If you like Fallout you’ll like this’ But I’m going to stop comparing it to anything else. Is this the start of a new IP that can stand shoulder to shoulder with other great titles? Let’s find out.

Story The story of The Outer Worlds should be very familiar to any sci fi nerds worth their salt. Earth is uninhabitable because of war and humanity shoots to the stars, so you and a few thousand lucky people get placed on two ships -Groundbreaker and Hope- to fast forward ten years via new technology called skip drive until you get to your new home of Halcyon. Only the Groundbreaker made it and the Hope was lost, adrift until a scientist named Dr. Phineas V. Welles decides to see if anyone on the Hope is still kicking. Without much more explanation other than wanting to wake up the rest of the colonists you’re rudely awakened, dropped onto the planet Terra 2 and told to find a smuggler.

Halcyon is a colony run by corporations- people live for their company, are owned by their company and under certain circumstances dying is a crime. Advertisements race by on robots and are pasted or projected onto every wall all controlled by the mysterious Board. But there’s something rotten under the corporate jargon and mandatory happiness and it might be up to you and Phineas to save the colony- that is, if you, the Unplanned Variable, see fit to do so. All the sci fi tropes are here- a smartass computer AI as your pilot and navigator, alien monsters, corporate greed, weird technology and mad science. The Outer Worlds is a game you can play with your brain turned off as a wacky sci-fi adventure or you can uncover the secrets of Halcyon and the Board and use them to become a hero or simply come out on top with your pockets full or a mixture of it all. Pick your poison. It’s still not a game that takes itself very seriously, at ALL even when a nerve shattering revelation ramps the stakes through the roof. Are you savior or scourge? It’s entirely up to you. Sidequests

There’s plenty to do on every level of immersion on The Outer Worlds. The game doesn’t really reward you for checking every nook and cranny apart from finding random bodies which becomes horrific in hindsight once you reach the endgame and learn what they probably actually died from. But as far as material things you get loot. Poke around a bit can net you some unique weapons such as a hammer that does all the status effect damage, a shrink ray and a cannon that fires slime that suspends its victims up in the air and drops them like a bad habit.

There’s not many ‘collect ten bear butts’ type quests thank the Law but damn near everything is optional and the sheer amount of solutions for quests will have you planning your next play through.

The best side quests are the companion quests which are so good I’m not going to spoil them but they all span the length of the game since they require reaching places that the player will only be able to travel to during certain parts of the story. Presentation The dialogue is excellent as per Obsidian standards.The voice acting is great, fairly natural sounding but when the actors have to perform instead of just reading they almost always do a bang up job. Screams of pain after getting sprayed with venom during combat, the cries of alarm if you or another companion is wounded or the out of breath declarations at the end of combat however are a nice touch. The music is provided by Justin E. Bell, the low key background music with bold brass and mysterious woodwinds, or soft piano and strings but the occasional steel guitar sneaks in to give the smaller towns that run down feel. The various jingles of all the omnipresent corporations will get stuck in your head, however. Among my favorite tracks are Hope, Forever, Phineas Escapes, and the title theme simply titled Hope. The gorgeous moving theme is also a leitmotif throughout the game from the level up sound to the cheery ragtime version. I can’t gush enough about how beautiful the score is.

Visually the game is stunning, from the stifling cold marble walls of Byzantium where the men in power dwell in their ivory towers to the long stretches of frontier on alien worlds populated by bizarre creatures and filled with strange and sometimes deadly plants, sulfur pools and giant mushrooms The Outer Worlds really is a feast for the eyes, polished, clean and bright. The darker areas might drive you bonkers but thankfully nothing you really need is going to be in the super dark anyway. If only the character models were as good but with an AA game budget, what are you gonna do? You could have cutscenes with finger puppets as long as they still keep their great dialogue. Seriously, I don’t remember laughing out loud at a game’s dialog or with such frequency probably since Dragon Age:Origin. Derivative humor is fun every now and then- I ran across a weapon, a hammer for sale called Maxwell where the flavor text mentioned ‘you think it should be silver’ in reference to the Beatles’ tune Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, or a dialog selection where you can tell the quest giver ‘Aliens’ to which she relies ‘I’m saying it was aliens’ so some music nerds and internet meme lords are thrown a bone but most of the humor is good old fashioned timing and even a few visual gags such as in the opening where Phineas has trouble opening the door. While rated M it’s pretty tame- I’d feel okay playing this in front of my Mormon in-laws because apart from the frequent swearing the humor is mostly clean. From my very first play through I counted five dirty jokes which you could easily miss and when you loot human bodies they stay clothed. The companions -your crew on the Unreliable- are spread out through the game and are met under circumstances ranging from a suggestion to hire them through Phineas or simply strays picked up for kicks and giggles. There are six companions in total- Parvati Holcomb, a sweet gal from the starting town who knows her way around an engine, Vicar Maximilian DeSoto, a priest of the Order of Scientific Inquiry, Dr. Ellie Fenhill, a surgeon turned pirate (who is featured in the trailers!) Felix Millstone, a rebel without a cause or a clue who romanticizes all your adventures, Nyoka Ramnarim-Wentworth III, a hard drinking hunter and wilderness guide, and SAM, a sanitation and maintenance robot who spouts only company slogans. The companions can be customized to suit your playstyle from their unique perks to armor, weapons and fighting preference but most players end up with a favorite team though there are perks you can take if you’re the kind who likes to fly solo. While the companions all have their own clear cut reasons for joining your crew, treat them right and they become close to the player character and each other. Aww. They all have something to say in just about every situation and like in many modern RPGs will bicker and banter with the player character and each other. Listening to the characters play off one another is ten kinds of fun. My biggest gripe is how there’s no new one on one dialog with them at certain points in the game apart from new banter or a comment about goings on before going right into the same dang old dropbox of questions. Oh well. Some players get their hackles up about there not being romance but I don’t feel a lack. If you want extensive babblings with your minions go play a Bioware game. What’s wrong with a good old fashioned tale of true companions?

Final thoughts

I admit after going through the first three hours or so of the game I was going to slap a ‘standard sci fi’ label on The Outer Worlds and hang it up for a while. Thank the Law I didn’t.

The main quest coming in at a lukewarm thirty hours, The Outer Worlds is crying out for DLC and the way things go we’ll probably get more than one. Overall it’s fun- it’s a fun ride with crazy weapons, colorful characters, plenty of laughs and it just might tug at your heartstrings.

When you take away the wishing, complaining and comparisons The Outer Worlds is a breath of fresh air amid the reforgings and refunds. I joke a lot about how I’m drinking the tears of New Vegas stans for getting heckin’ bamboozled but good on them for having standards. I’ve been hiding my extreme disappointment in Fallout 76 for a long time- full disclosure, it legit makes me sad and angry between Bethesda and Blizzard caring more about money than making fans happy and the table scraps we get in place of enjoyable content.

I haven’t been happy with a new release since World of Warcraft: Legion. That’s been four agonizing years in a wasteland of mediocrity that I’ve slogged through in the vain hope of something renewing my faith in the industry. Maybe The Outer Worlds is just standard sci fi goofs but it does stand out among all the moody gritty art pieces most modern games have become. I’m not sure what the future holds but I’ll be cautiously hopeful, adrift in lower orbit waiting for the next adventure.

#the outer worlds #review #amateur review #actually blogging on my blog what sorcery is this #Don't worry there are no spoilers #spoiler free #tow #tow stuff #no spoilers

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davantagedenuit · 5 years

Text

ulana/boris, rated e, 1.5k

time for another boris/ulana fic! this is actually straightforwardly het (such a strange thing to write). i wanted some ulana pov. i put it all under a cut. and here it is on ao3. also warnings for semi-rough sex.

It happens when Ulana gets out of Lubyanka. Valery, qua Deputy Director of the Chernobyl Commission, stays behind to fill in paperwork in a brightly-lit room with paint peeling from the concrete walls. Outside, Boris Shcherbina waits by a car. A Volga. A chauffeur. Everything.

Shcherbina has never asked her anything, never talked to her even. But today, he asks her, same as Valery, "Did they hurt you?" She's certain she's not a pretty sight, but she must look ghastly enough.

She shakes her head no. "I'm..." She can't possibly tell this glorified bureaucrat how it was to stay in that cell. Eighteen hours, with only the pace of guards outside every hour or so. The occasional yell in the distance. With nothing in her mind but the images of melted skin and bone. Parcels of liver and kidney coming to Akimov's lips as he recounted their last attempt at opening the valves. She had not dared tell the dying engineer it was futile--worse than that. And why tell Shcherbina about those things? Doesn't he know? He's sent people there, hasn't he? She just says, "I'm exhausted."

She catches his glance her way. There was nothing there when Shcherbina looked at her before. She was a physicist--something like Valery Legasov, but not quite (because whatever he's been through with Legasov, they're joined at the hip now). He didn't trust her. Conversely, she thought he was an idiot, often addressed chiefly Legasov in the room while he was there--which he had picked on.

He looks at Ulana differently now. There's a cool, nurturing impulse there--because he's a man of his generation, and she a woman just released from prison. There's surprise too. Admiration. The whole of it says Congratulations, and welcome to the secret Chernobyl boys band.

"We'll get you a room for tonight," Shcherbina says. "We leave from the airbase tomorrow at 6. We're going back."

"Back to Chernobyl?" He nods. The streets around seem dark to her. Tall lamp posts light the limits of the square, making it seem a mile wide; above them, the sky is cloudless, but starless too, and the only color is from the three red flags above the entrance. She hasn't been to Moscow since her student days. "I suppose I should thank you."

He shakes his head, bewilderment arching his brow in what strikes her as astounding nakedness on such a closed face. "I had nothing to do with it. That was all Valery."

He opens the car door for her. She assumes they'll wait for Valery (Shcherbina said we, after all), but they don't.

The room is in something that must work as a hotel from Kremlin staff. From the outside, it looks like a small apartment building, old-fashioned, its facade painted blue. Inside, two seated soldiers greet Shcherbina by name. At the front desk, the stern dezhurnaya don't ask him any questions. While Ulana writes her name on a ledger, the chauffeur walks in with a brown paper bag. As she's opening it, Shcherbina is back at her side and explains, "There's some supper. If you're hungry."

She checks: a can of sprats that looks like it was lifted from some soldier's rations, a bottle of vodka, and pirozhki that she can't tell where he could get at this hour.

Later, Ulana'll think that there's no real explaining it. He's a man, she's a woman would work, she supposes. The bleakness, maybe. Or the basic, stubborn, stupid need for human contact. Because she's been alone for most of her life, but it's never felt like how it felt like today.

Shcherbina has told her the car would be back at 5 to pick her up. He is going to leave. "The vodka. Would you like a glass with me, Comrade?" she says.

It's amazing how courageous she sounds. Despair can be like that.

A split second with nothing at all registering on Shcherbina's face. "Of course," he says.

When they get upstairs to the room, she does specify. "I don't really want a drink. Just a distraction."

Shcherbina could grin, say something clever. He looks like someone who makes crude jokes. No. He says, "I understand."

He asks her what she wants. She doesn't know if his gentlemanly respect is for women in general, or uniquely for those who've spent their day at Lubyanka (she suspects the latter). But the truth is--he has her pinned to the wall, with his hands under her skirt, she's undone his belt--and she feels empty. "What?" he asks her with that gravelly voice of his.

"I'm so tired of choosing. Everything. All the time," Ulana says at the ceiling.

He does grin at that point. And in one swift motion, he turns her around. Her cheek is pressed against the wall. Good walls they must be: she hasn't heard a thing (no radio, no talking, no nothing) from another nearby room in the ten minutes they've been here. God, why is everything so goddamn silent?

"Tell me if I hurt you," he mutters in her neck.

He feels her all over then, not slow, not careful. His fingers knead her breasts under the bra he's not unclasped. His breath is hot on her neck and his arms warm and heavy. She pushes her skirt and underwear down and fingers her clit, pressing down hard and long. She's not careful either.

He slips an arm around her to push her hips from the wall and fucks into her. His hand covers her own where she's handling herself. His grip is stronger than hers and he adds pressure to her palm, and that kind of suffocating, inescapable force is, it turns out, what she wanted. Fuck if she knew. She breathes in long, open-mouthed gasps against the wall.

He comes before her and stays inside, rocking his hips into her butt, until she comes too. It's not a mind-blowing thing: it's a long shudder that's like opening a floodgate. The flood is exhaustion and once the pleasure dims, she turns to cotton.

They take turns in the shower. Ulana cries where it feels safe, with the warm water on her face.

She wakes not really aware of having slept. Some dreary dawn light glows in the curtain. The bed beside her isn't unmade. Shcherbina's dressing. Freshly pressed pants, shirt and tie. There's clothing for her too. Her clothing, she realizes. Probably back from where she'd left it in the locker they'd given her at Hospital Number 6. She's happier than she would have ever known to drop the white nurse dress in a heap on the floor and leave it there.

Boris Shcherbina is an old man (she'd bet he has fifteen years on her, easy), and he's probably been sitting at a desk more frequently than not in recent years. Still, there is trace of muscles under the skin. (Quite a scar too: a zig-zag of pale, shimmering scar tissue on his left shoulderblade. "Germany?" Ulana asks. "Winter War.")

It's not as uncomfortable as it could be. Or she's had weirder things. They have the cheese pirozhki with vodka and tea as a surreal breakfast. The car will be there soon to pick them up, get them to the airbase. Back to Chernobyl.

"How were they? The men from the staff you spoke to?" he asks her.

"Dying. Most of them have died now." She puts the pastry down. "One of them, Aleksandr Fyodorovich Akimov. They'd bandaged the skin on his face. When they removed the bandages, the skin came too. They had to remove some of his teeth from his mouth, because he would swallow them and choke."

Ulana tells him that to get it off her chest, but probably also to see how he'd react. His face doesn't change. Only his eyes widen slightly, until they're like a child's. And it's suddenly not quite the same man she's looking at. Then it's gone. "Hm." And he downs his vodka.

It's been on her mind since they'd left Lubyanka.

Ulana gives in to her impulse before they reach the car. They won't have much more chance to talk after that. "Okay. How did Valery get me out?"

Shcherbina snorts. "He asked Deputy Chairman Charkov to let you go."

"What? Charkov--the KGB Chairman?"

Shcherbina nods. "He walked right up to him. Told him you'd been arrested. Asked him about the agents following us. Asked him to just..." He draws some evanescent shape before him with his fingers. "Drop all of it. Let you go."

"And Charkov-?"

"Said yes." Shcherbina's eyebrows are all over the place like he still can't believe it either. "'Good day, Professor, he bade him," he says, hiding his soft Ukrainian accent and toning down to mimick Charkov's perfect Muscovite pronunciation and low voice.

Not long after that, she finds herself thinking that Boris Shcherbina is not an idiot.

#chernobyl #my fic #ulana khomyuk #boris shcherbina

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its-negans-lucille · 6 years

Text

Choices

Feel free to send any dark, angsty Dex x Reader prompts (only angst/dark please!)

Ships: Benjamin Pointdexter x Reader

Words: 2,252

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of self harm, strong depictions of violence, stalking, minor spoilers

Category: Angst

Synopsis: Dex really hasn’t had time to “look out” for you recently and when he sees that you have someone special to you... well... obviously he has to put a stop to that.

The night was cold, freezing, in the October moonlight. Dex sat in his car which was situated in the dark patch between luminescent streetlights- he hid from their all-encompassing glow. In the distance he could hear the wailing of police sirens, possibly working off the tips that the Devil of Hell’s kitchen was taking out a drug ring near the river. This was obviously staged by Fisk, trying to get the NYPD away from the meeting he was currently orchestrating with the city’s most infamous crime bosses.

Dex probably should have been there, looking over the situation and making sure the other associates of Fisk knew that he had the FEDS on his side. But no, Dex had taken a pass for more important matters at hand. He hadn’t recently had time to check on you, watch you, as Kingpin had been taking up large amounts of time in his everyday life; his new north star, guiding him.

Though, that didn’t negate Dex’s care for you as he still held you in high esteem. You were the only person he could even imagine himself being with in any sort of intimate way despite the fact that all he had ever done was watch you from afar. You didn’t know it but in fact Dex was a guardian angel of sorts- looking out for you, making sure that things went your way.

And making sure that no one got close to you. Not in the way that he should be close to you.

Dex drummed his fingers anxiously on the dashboard of his new car (bought by the money Fisk had been funnelling his people in the FBI) his eyes watched the door to your apartment building. It was a Tuesday, meaning you had tomorrow off work. You had specifically negotiated that in your contract and, as Dex knew, you got whatever you wanted.

You finally emerged from the apartment some fifteen minutes later just before Dex was going to go and pull the fire alarm. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing back into the leather chair of his vehicle.

Dex drank you in as you stood out on the pavement, idly scrolling through your phone. You wore a tight, satin, scarlet dress which hugged your curves in all the right places. Seemingly to make up for the tightness of the fabric you had draped a denim jacket over your shoulders. You bristled as the freezing air caressed your skin. You looked around, evidently searching for something of which you were yet to find. Your eyes even darted over Dex’s car, totally and completely unaware of the man whom sat within and what you meant to him.

A few minutes later a black SUV pulled up just before you, coming to an abrupt halt with half of it climbing onto the sidewalk. Dex immediately sat up straight, subconsciously reaching for his loaded glock secured in his holster. If anyone had come after you he would bring fire and fury burning down upon this godforsaken city.

But somehow, this was worse.

You smiled and moved toward the car. A man got out, clad in a suit and tie and obviously dressed for a special occasion- much like you were. You gave him a swift embrace, your newly painted nails trailing softly through his hair. Dex clenched his fists, his knuckles turning bone white.

You smiled like how Dex wished for you to smile at him. The mystery man rubbed the nape of his neck, like a high schooler asking his crush to homecoming. Except, this was a date and they were both adults. You should be allowed to make any decision you wanted. You should be able to do whatever you want.

But no, that’s not how it goes.

Not now.

Not with you.

Dex thrust his key into the ignition, for a moment glorying in the low hum of the powerful engine before he set off, following the car that had his greatest strength and weakness within.

You.

***

It had been about two hours when finally the two of you emerged. Dex had remained outside, watching you and your date from the window you had booked. You had laughed a lot, a smile almost constantly caressing your lips. Dex had taken many measures to stop himself from rushing into the restaurant after you took the other man’s hand in your own.

By the time you went your separate ways (you moving into a bright canary yellow New York taxi and him in his fancy car) Dex had ravaged his lip so a coppery taste blossomed over his mouth and bloody half-moons were cut into the palm of his hands. His stomach growled for some kind of sustenance as he hadn’t eaten all evening, too set on watching you and the man you were associating with.

Before you had stepped into the cab the man took your hand, brushing soft, calming, circles on your palm before whispering what only Dex could presume were sweet nothings in your ear. You giggled before placing a kiss on his cheek. The man turned his face at the at the last second and finally caught your lips with his.

Dex felt the steering wheel buckle and bend under the rage he inflicted on it. His brain murmured a sweet mantra: it should be me, it should be me, it should be me, it should be-

But the moment was broken when the taxi honked its horn and, frankly, Benjamin Pointdexter could not be more thrilled.

The man got into his car with a final, fleeting look at you before driving off. Little did he know that that would be the last time he would ever set eyes on you and Agent Pointdexter absolutely revelled in that fact.

It was a fairly mundane journey back into the upper east side of Manhattan, the exquisite architecture and the promise of blood soon to be spilled kept Dex alert. The car which contained his target came to a halt before turning into a dark garage. Dex pulled into a nearby space before getting out of the car, his breath quickening with anticipation.

He moved across the street, swift and silent, and managed to squeeze through the closing garage doors. The seemingly desolate room full of desirable cars sat in silence for a few beats before Dex ducked behind a bright red Ferrari. His quarry was just making his way to the elevator.

Dex took a few deep breaths, running one large hand through his hair as he did so, before moving toward the sliding doors with a false smile. Beneath the surface he was a boiling pot of rage just moments away from bubbling over.

“Hey!” Dex called as he walked toward the elevator. “Can you hold it?” He continued, he was a good twenty meters away at that moment.

“Sure, buddy,” The man replied, pushing the button to keep the large metal doors from saving his life.

“Thanks,” Dex smiled as he made it inside. He rolled his shoulders and subconsciously patted his holster.

“No problem. What floor you going too?” The corpse walking asked, a self-satisfied curve to his lips. He was evidently still riding the high from being in your company.

“Oh, uh, eleven,” Dex replied.

“Alrighty.”

They stood there in awkward silence, predator and prey, for about a minute or so. Dex revelled in the energy, drinking in this man’s final hour. He enjoyed the sensation of playing God, of deciding who lives and who dies. He also took note of the man’s floor number, nine. Dex allowed a smug smile to hug his features as he saw the man take out his room key. A mistake he would live to regret. Or, more realistically, die to regret.

“Have a nice night,” Dex wished his victim as he exited the confined space.

“You too, man,” He replied, his fingers playing with the room key.

The doors closed and Dex stretched, cracking his neck at the same time. A determined expression marred his features. Somehow he wondered what his therapist would think. What she would say to him as he prepared to murder a man for simply spending time with you.

Dex pushed that thought to the side as he exited the elevator, waited a few beats, and pushed the call button once again. There was a ring as the machine pulled the suspended metal box up the floors and finally the doors opened. Dex re-entered, cracking his knuckles. He didn’t want this man’s demise to be quick, oh no, he was going to feel every, single, punch.

***

Dex arrived at the room within a few minutes. He stood outside the door; rearranging his clothing despite the fact the man would most likely avoid commenting on Dex’s fashion sense when there was a loaded gun in his mouth. He placed one hand on his pistol, a comfortable grip that felt like the closest thing he could call home.

Dex wrapped twice on the large door, his bloodied, bruised knuckles highlighted against the birch. He swiftly ducked so that he was no longer in view of the peep-hole. The hairs on the back of his neck began to raise, a sort of electricity racing through them as the excitement of the kill raged through his bloodstream. He allowed himself two deep breaths to steady himself as he heard footsteps begin to advance toward the door.

Dex was sure that if he listened closely he would be able to hear the man’s heartbeat begin to ramp up as the lock clicked and the door opened.

“Hello- you?” He rubbed his eyes, already clad in grey boxers and not much else. “What’re you doing her-” His voice came to a swift halt as Dex raised the butt end of his glock and hit him on the back of his head. The man scrambled away from the door, fear and blood riveting down his face.

Dex advanced after him, closing the door with a soft click.

“Please- please…” The man uttered as he finally reached a wall. He leaned back so that he was as far away as possible to the FBI agent now mere feet away. “I- I have a fami-”

“What’s your name?” Dex cut him off by shoving the pistol’s muzzle to his chest.

“Calvin.”

“Well, Calvin, we’re gonna have a little chat, hm?” Dex trailed the muzzle of the gun almost sensually around Calvin’s jawline. “How’s that sound?” No reply. “Now, now, Cal- can I call you Cal? Well, I’m gonna be the last person you ever talk to so there’s no point in holding your tongue with me, y’hear?”

A brisk nod.

“Good. Now… how do you know (Y/N)?” Despite the situation, Dex still enjoyed the sensation of your name on his lips.

“(Y/N)? Is this what this is all fucking about?” Calvin asked, sweat dripping in beads down his bloodied face.

Dex shoved the pistol just under his chin, clicking the safety off with an audible tick. Calvin inhaled sharply.

“Don’t you ever, ever, say her name again. Got that?” Dex’s voice was low with the promise of making his death as slow and as painful as humanly possible.

“Ye- yes.”

“Good. Now answer the fucking question: how do you know her?” Dex watched for any signs of possible lies but none appeared. He was simply a man staring down the barrel of his impending death.

“We- we met through work. I thought she was… she was cute. She smiled a lot and she- she was funny. I asked her out a few months back and… we’ve been going on dates ever since.” Calvin avoided Dex’s cool gaze.

“Just dates or anything else?”

“What the fuck man- this is so messed up,” Calvin exclaimed when he got the gist of what Dex was insinuating.

“Remember what I just said, Calvin.” Dex practically shoved the pistol in his mouth.

“Fine- fine… yes… we- we had sex.”

“More than once?”

“Jesus Christ man I- yes. Yes more than once.” Calvin was looking around for any possible escape route of which there was none. “What is this all for?”

“(Y/N) is… important to me. I enjoy her… What’s she like to be with?” Dex allowed a shadow of a smile to appear on his scar ridden face before swiftly returning to the matter at hand.

“Please- I can pay you… I won’t go to the police or- or anyone! Just let me-”

“Jesus Christ! You’re really beginning to annoy me now, Calvin.” Dex shook his head, clenching his free fist with an anguished distain.

“Fine, fine… she’s smart- smarter than me. She makes the world seem better just being around her. More… hopeful.” Despite the situation, Calvin’s eyes seemed far away.

Reliving memories that Dex should be the only one to have. Finally the rage which had always been simmering just below the surface for his entire life finally boiled over; and Dex could not have enjoyed it more.

Dex revelled in finally pulling the trigger. The satisfying shot rang out throughout the room and the corpse of Calvin fell to the ground with a dull thud. His face still held the wonder of past memories. Dex decided that he was never going to forget this image for the rest of his days, the blood painting the walls like an art exhibit and crumpled corpse of a man who had dared get close to you.

Yes… Dex would enjoy this for a long time.

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thedeviltohisangel · 5 years

Text

You Say It Softly//5//If He Won’t Be Here Next Year

Jim & Leah’s first time.

smut warning

masterlist in bio!

send any requests for Jim my way!

Leah watched with an ache in her chest as Isla Cane pranced past Jim in her new bikini for the third time that night. Not that she was counting. She was sat with her friend Adelaide, whom she had dragged to the beach with her so she didn’t seem as though she was clinging to Jim the whole time, on a log closer to the parking lot with a grimace.

“I hate that I have to admit her butt does look good in it,” Leah groaned as the girl spinned in the name of showing some other one every angle of the new swimsuit.

��And you did say Jim is an ass guy.”

“Addy!” Leah screeched as she hit her friend on the arm. “You’re supposed to build me up! Not feed into my fears!”

“I’m sorry! The only way for you to get his eyes off of her is to put them on you! Hiding on this log with me isn’t going to make your jealousy disappear.”

“Not jealous,” she mumbled in reply as she became focused on the rock that was by her feet. “Jim loves me. He’s not looking at her butt with anything more than a general appreciation for the female form.” Adelaide couldn’t help but snort.

“Sorry, Leah, but you are forgetting he’s a teenage boy and giving him way more credit than he deserves.” Addy loved Jim for Leah, loved that he had gotten her to come out of her shell more in recent months, but also knew how easily he could break her heart too. She was trepidatious towards him, at best.

“Then maybe I should just go before I get too upset. I knew coming to the beach with him and his friends was a stupid idea.” Leah stood from the log and began the battle of stuffing her blanket into her tote bag.

“What’d that blanket do to you?” She stopped what she was doing to regard Jim as he walked towards her, his wetsuit around his waist and his chest looking deliciously inviting in the setting sun.

“My tailbone was starting to hurt,” Leah lied as she let the bag drop to the sand. He stepped forward and pulled her against him with a kiss. He kissed her cheek once before letting her pull away.

“I’m gonna go to my car and change, then you wanna sit by the fire with me?”

“I don’t know...I have a pretty good view of Isla’s fashion show from here. Don’t know that I need to see it from the front row.” Addy snickered.

“Yeah, the thong is a little much, right?” He noticed the way her eyes widened as if she was about to deliver a scathing remark. “Not that I was, like, you know-”

“She just likes to watch you squirm. Keep you in check,” Adelaide said as she stood next to her friend.

“I’d like to see more of your devious side,” Jim said as his hands found Leah’s waist again, spinning her around as she giggled with delight. Any ill feeling she had felt evaporated once he was back in her orbit. Something about the two of them being together always made her feel as though she was doing the right thing. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll change and we can go get a milkshake or something.”

“Okay. Let me finish packing up and I’ll meet you at the car.” He pecked her lips one last time before trudging through the sand to his car. “Come on, let me walk with you to your car.” The two girls walked down a bit to where Adelaide had parked.

“Thanks for inviting me tonight. Hanging around judging people with you is my favorite thing to do.” It was slightly sarcastic but also partially true. Addy was torn between pushing Leah into the fire so she would breakaway from her comfort zone and holding her back so she could insure her best friend’s protection.

“Yeah, well, one day I’ll be comfortable around them. Until then you’re stuck hanging on the outskirts with me.” They hugged, Jim’s car rolling up alongside them.

“You two are cute together, you know that?” he teased. Addy flipped him off as Leah got in on his passenger side.

“Wrap that sausage up tonight, Jim.”

“Adelaide!” Leah’s face burned one thousand degrees at her words. Jim and her hadn’t gone any further than oral, and her friend knew that but she was trying to help her friend along in asking Jim to go all the way. “I am so sorry she said that,” Leah apologized as they pulled onto the main road. Jim just shrugged.

“All friends say shit like that. Doesn’t bother me.” He squeezed her knee in comfort. “Now, where you craving a milkshake from, Sugar?”

----

Jim had sat next to her in the booth that night. Whenever she was warm and smelled like the beach he was always craving to be closer to her. It wasn’t often he would join him and the Bay Boys so he was always elated when she did. They had ordered milkshakes and fries, Jim happy Leah had introduced him to the flavor of fries dipped in milkshakes, and took turns kissing whipped cream off the others nose. It was light and playful and for a couple of hours Jim forgot the shit show that was waiting for him at home. Forgot that his mother was probably pacing the front yard in her robe waiting for him.

They pulled up in front of her house, Jim cutting the engine before rushing around to open the door for her. He never knew how long it would take them to actually say goodbye so there was no point in keeping the car running.

“I had fun tonight,” Leah whispered as she leaned back against Jim’s car, their hands laced between them.

“Yeah, I did too. Thank you for coming and I’m sorry if any of them made you feel uncomfortable.” He kissed the top of her hand.

“They’re part of you, Jim. I’ll learn to be more okay around them.”

“They’re not the best part of me,” he chuckled as he looked down at his Converse then back up to her. “You wanna go with me to the end of midterms bonfire tomorrow?”

“Of course, Sprinkles. My parents won’t be home so I can cook you dinner beforehand if you want.”

“Perfect. I’ll be over at 6.” Leah smiled against his lips as he pulled her in, her hands releasing his so they could tangle into his hair. “You know I love you, right? Not any other girl could make me this nervous.” It was his own way of trying to quell her fears of Isla and her butt from the beach.

“I know, Jimmy, thank you. I love you, too. Only you.” He pulled her in for one last kiss and made sure to get a full handful of her backside as he did.

“Besides, it’s your butt that keeps me distracted in Pre-Calc.”

“Good night, Jim Mason,” Leah said as she kept their hands together for as long as possible as she walked backwards towards her house. He waited until her front door shut behind her before getting into his own car and heading home for the night. His hand felt empty without hers to hold.

----

“Leah this is absolutely ridiculous! This is not the Princess Diaries!” Leah had dragged Adelaide to the mall with her after their morning Government midterm in the name of getting her a new swimsuit to blow away Jim and everyone else at the bonfire that night. “No helicopter of photographers is going to come by and try to photograph you at the beach tonight.” Leah poked her head out from the curtain of the dressing room.

“It has nothing to do with that. I want Jim to see that I can fit in with his friends. That I’m not some snivelling girl for him to pity. That I look better in a thong bikini than any girl on that beach.” She snapped the curtain back with a huff.

“Only drawback will be that you can’t wear thongs because you’re constantly picking them out of your ass like a wedgie. That’s not attractive.”

“What’s not attractive is that I went straight from tennis practice yesterday with frizzy hair and no mascara.” She could hear her friend sigh from where she stood waiting for her to model her next option.

“Leah...you know Jim doesn’t care. Not that his opinion or your perception of it should make you wanted to change but...he for sure loves you.”

“We haven’t had sex yet,” Leah mumbled as she opened the curtain.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m afraid that his eye is wandering because I haven’t been ready. Girls like Isla...girls like her are so experienced. If I can channel her then maybe when it finally happens, I can be more confident about it.” Adelaide was looking at her like she was an idiot. “Forget it. I’ll just wear that one piece we bought together in Santa Monica last summer. That has some sideboob.” Leah turned to go back into the dressing cubicle and change back into her leggings.

“No, stop. If that palm leaf bikini is going to give you more confidence then I think you should get it. I think you are the most beautifully intelligent creature and Jim will love you in whatever way you let him but I want you to have all the confidence in yourself that you deserve. If that thong will do it then hell I’ll pay for it.” Leah sniffled.

“You’re the best best friend ever.” The two girls embraced with watery giggles. “Let me change so we can go buy some fricking pretzel bites. I’m starving!”

----

“That spaghetti was everything I could have asked for and more,” Jim said as he waited at the bottom of the stairs for Leah to finish changing. “The meatballs tasted a little different from the last time. New recipe?”

“Yeah I’m tweaking it every time. The beef to pork ratio was a little different this time.” His further praise for her cooking died on his lips as she appeared in a lacy pink coverup.

“Is that new?”

“You like it?” She did a twirl for him was she reached his outstretched arms, Jim swallowing thickly.

“I love it. You look wonderful, Sugar, like you always do.” That was a little deflating. She had hoped she looked better than usual or sexier than usual. She guessed she would have to wait until he saw what was underneath for that change to take place.

“You promise to stay on my pace tonight?” It was a happy medium Leah had managed to reach with him. He would drink at the pace that she did. It wasn’t her asking him to completely not but it also meant she didn’t have to watch him lose control and need to be intensely taken care of for the rest of the night and following day. Jim had also promised her he hadn’t taken any pills since their discussion. He wished that he had been able to keep it.

The party was in full swing when they arrived, Jim being ushered away quickly towards the group of boys around the keg. Leah waved him away as he looked to her to make sure it was okay that he went off, the girl searching for a familiar face once her boyfriend left her. She managed to find a small group of girls from her tennis team, bouncing between them and a group of kids from her debate team.

“Come join our volleyball team, Leah!” She was interrupted from talking about the war in Yemen with a kid on the debate team and dragged to the side to play. “Take your coverup off so you don’t trip on it!” She froze when she remembered what it was that she had underneath it. She had spent the whole night not focusing on her masterplan that it had slipped her mind.

“I’m wearing something really tiny underneath. I can’t really play with it-”

“Everyone else is dressed in a little bikini. You’ll be fine.” It was now or never and the entire tennis team was staring at her like she was a lunatic. They only knew Leah as the star on the court, they didn’t know who this shy girl was. She undid the little button at the front of the coverup and let it drop, quickly running towards the net in the hopes no one would look at her too long. “Holy shit, Leah, your ass!”

“Oh God, does it look horrible?”

“Total opposite! You should wear less more often.” The girls around her snickered in agreement.

----

“Shit, Jim, is that your girlfriend?” Jim turned around expecting to be met with some sort of horrific scene. Maybe Leah had fallen during a keg stand or had thrown up her drink in the bushes. But it was neither of those things. He was met with the sight of her pert little ass on full display for the entire beach as she laughed with her friends and chased after a volleyball. “Didn’t know she had an ass like that. You’re a lucky dude.” His friend offered him a fist bump.

“Excuse me.” Jim downed the rest of what was in his cup and began to walk towards the game. He was aware that every guy he walked past had his eyes zeroed in on his girlfriend. It made his blood boil. He had never felt jealous of someone else when it came to Leah. She was always by his side or trying to shrink into the shadows. This was new territory for him and he hated it. “What do you think you’re doing?” He reached the game and his voice had taken on an edge Leah didn’t like.

“Playing a game with my friends?” She walked over to him carefully in the hopes he would lower his voice. If he had been drinking he had a tendency to be loud. She didn’t want whatever he was feeling to be broadcast across the beach.

“Everyone is looking at you.” She looked behind her to find that he was right.

“Yeah it’s kind of nice. Normally they’re all looking at me like I’m a nun or something.”

“You’re not theirs to look at. Put your pink thing back on.” Leah took a step back from him.

“Excuse me?” Disgust was laced through her tone and it hit Jim like a ton of bricks. “Don’t ever think you can tell me what to do, got it?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond, instead turning back to her game with a smile at an attempt to shake off the encounter.

----

“I’m sorry for my tone back there. I’m not used to people looking at you like that and it bothered me. You’re so...you and I just feel like I need to protect you.” She turned from where was staring out the window to regard him silently.

“You made me feel so little.”

“I’m sorry. Having to listen to them all make comments about things…”

“Things you haven’t even done yet with me?” Jim wasn’t insecure about his relationship with Leah, they were strong and sure of themselves and the path they were going down, but hearing the boys at the party trying to ask him questions about sex with Leah and things like that...it had awoken a possessive nature within him he hadn’t known was within him.

“I love you just the way you are. You don’t have to change for anyone. Especially me. I missed your sideboob one piece tonight.” That managed to get a laugh out of her.

“That was option number two.” Things felt right again as she laced her fingers through his in the center console, Jim more used to driving with her hand in his or his on her knee than without. They pulled up to her house and the lights were off. “Guess my parents aren’t coming home tonight. Want to come in?” He nodded and followed her into the house and all the way up her stairs to her room.

“Feel like taking a shower?” Jim asked as he licked his lips. Something about her in lace being bathed by the moonlight coming through her window was making him feel warm and molten inside. He needed her close and he needed it now. He followed her dutifully into the bathroom, helping each other undress as the water heated up and steam filled the room. They behaved for the first part of their shower, Jim letting his hand wander once she had finished rinsing the conditioner out of her hair. Leah gripped his shoulders as a gasp fell from her mouth at the way he teasingly worked between her legs. “You like it when I touch you like this?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she parted her legs so he could wiggle a finger into her easier. He pumped it slowly in and out as she moaned into their kiss, hitting that sweet spot nestled inside of her every time. “Faster.” He obliged and added another finger for good measure. She buried her face in the crook of his neck as the pressure snapped inside of her and his arm wrapped around her waist as her knees wobbled slightly.

“Don’t get tired on me yet. I have a lot more apologizing to do.” Jim leaned back in to kiss her but she stopped him with her hand against his mouth.

“I want...I want you to take all of me tonight, Jim.” He shook the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes to make sure he was reading her properly. “I’m ready. I love you and I want to be with you in that way. Want to show you how much you mean to me.”

“You don’t need to have sex with me just because of my nasty behavior tonight, Leah-”

“I promise that’s not why, Jimmy. I’m yours. Fully and forever.” He kissed her as his way of agreeing to her plan, Leah turning off the shower as his lips pressed against hers with a bruising force. Jim began to walk her backwards and Leah squeaked. “Jim stop! I’ll slip!”

“Easy fix for that.” He lifted her easily so her legs could wrap around his waist, Jim deftly stepping over the lip of the shower and carrying her back to her room. Leah bounced as her back hit the bed, Jim almost growling at the sight of her bare and warm and pliant right in front of him. His lips started at the knot of her ankle and worked kisses all the way up to her nose before he settled back down onto her nipples. He licked and sucked until they were hard as rock in his mouth and her legs were squirming for friction underneath him.

“Need your mouth down there, Jim,” she panted. He eagerly followed her orders. Her clit found its home wrapped in his tongue, his mouth working her back over the edge that his fingers had only a little bit ago in the shower.

“You sure you want to do this?” He came back over to make sure he could look into her eyes.

“Positive. Want all of you to have all of me.” She bent her elbows so she could reach into her nightstand and pulled out a condom, Jim looking at her quizzically. “Addy bought them for me after we went bikini shopping. She thought the thong might have an effect on you.” Jim kissed both her cheeks as they flushed a brilliant red, rolling the condom down his length with ease.

“Ready?”

“I’m nervous. You’ve done this before and I haven’t. What if I’m no good?”

“Leah, I’m nervous too. My first time was a bumbling three minute mess with some random girl visiting from Ann Arbor. They said it’s different when you love someone so...it’s like my first real time.”

“Nothing can go wrong when we’re together, right?” It was what her and Jim had said to each other since the first time he had taken pills around her. As long as they had each other, they would have someone to look out for them and take care of them.

“Nothing,” he sealed his promise with a kiss, “Going to go slow. Nod when you’re ready for more.” It wasn’t painful as Leah had been lead to believe, just different. With each press Jim made into her she took a second or two to breathe and readjust before nodding for him to push in a little bit further. Jim was using all his self control at the sensation of being inside her after having dreamed of it for so long. Once he was in far enough, he began to slowly rock his hips in the same pace and depth she liked when he used his fingers. “Okay?” She nodded and tried to focus on the sensation of being filled by the boy she loved. Of being fully together with him, with anyone, for the first time.

“Are you close?” Leah could tell that he was by the way his grunts and groans were falling from his mouth in quicker succession. “Come for me, Jim.” Her fingers locked behind his head as he looked directly into her eyes as his hips stilled and he stuttered her name.

“Fuck, Leah, you didn’t-”

“You made me come twice tonight. It was my first time. It’s totally normal for girls to not come their first time.” He fell over onto his back next to her.

“Give me a minute to catch my breath and I’ll make it three times.” She giggled and rolled over to press a kiss to his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Never worry about another guy again. It’s only you, Jim, it’s only ever going to be you.” He twirled a piece of her hand around his finger slowly and puckered his lips as a way of asking her for a kiss.

“I can promise you that. I love you, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Sprinkles.” They just had to hope that love would always be enough.

Tags

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme

@tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning

@aveiangdon

@langdvn

#jim mason #cody fern #michael langdon #duncan shepherd #the tribes of palos verdes

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 6 years

Note

AU: have you ever considered an avengers-animorphs fusion?

[Contains spoilers only through Avengers (2012) and only oblique references to MCU events beyond that movie.]

Jake finds Cassie steadying, at a time when he could use a little steadiness. She’s a soothing presence who offers shy smiles and subtly brilliant insights into the yeerks as she watches them all closely. By contrast, most of the others are… overwhelming. Rachel looks very much like her grandmother, managing to be even more brash and bold and trigger-happy as she paces the bridge pointing to read-outs of energy signatures and demanding that they go rescue a fellow agent named Tobias, immediately. Ax cheerfully eats an entire box of pop-tarts in one sitting as he tells the SHIELD agents that andalites don’t normally behave this much like warring kaftids but that Alloran is clearly not himself right now.

Marco walks onto the bridge, looks around like he owns the place, and immediately starts ranting about how they’re all a load of idiots and SHIELD is lying to them. Jake isn’t sure he even draws breath in between words. Mid-cyberbabble, Marco suddenly spins around and falls silent. For about half a second.

“Oh my god, you’re Rachel Berenson.” Marco practically throws himself across the table to shake her hand. “I’m a huge fan, really. I read all your magazine articles, I follow one hundred percent of your fashion advice, and I also love the way you turn into a human-bear-thing and rip your enemies’ heads off with your teeth.” He’s still pumping her hand with what looks like genuine enthusiasm. “Plus, unlike your fifth-cousin or great-uncle or whatnot Captain War-Prince Yeerk-Killer over there, you actually have a sense of humor—”

“My name is Jake,” Jake blurts. They all turn to look at him. “Just Jake is fine,” he mumbles. “I’m not a real war-prince. Not really. It was all just propaganda at first, and then they only promoted me so that they wouldn’t have to court-martial me after I went on that stupid suicide mission to get my brother back.” They’re all still staring. “And anyway, the ‘Yeerk-Killer’ part is…” Saying I don’t like it sounds like too childish a reason even in his own mind. “It’s just something they called me.”

There’s ringing silence for several seconds. And then Marco says, “Anyway, about this yeerk-helping dude who gave over all our intel.”

“Tobias is not working for the yeerks.” There’s an edge of growl to Rachel’s voice, one that causes everyone else in the room to tense just slightly. “He’s being controlled. Involuntarily.”

Jake takes a moment, just one, to mourn the 1940s with an intensity that steals his breath away. He misses everything he’s lost. Like missing a limb. Like missing home. Like missing a brother. Rachel is his only link to the past, and she’s a stranger; last Jake saw, his nephew Daniel was just a baby, and now Daniel’s own daughter is a grown woman while Daniel himself is dead twenty years back in a mysterious car accident. Everything disappeared in the span of an instant. Everyone died. Only Jake is left.

And then Jake draws a deep breath and says, “Regardless of how they got it, the yeerks have key intel on our operation now. And we need to get our shit together to figure out what to do about it.” There’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.

Rachel knows they don’t make a particularly inspiring picture, between Jake awkwardly standing around in full dress blues, Marco slumped against a computer console in a Demon Days t-shirt, Cassie in her green floral-print leggings and purple-and-grey leotard, and Ax striding back and forth across the helicarrier with whatever that cloak-thing is billowing behind him. She’s not sure she trusts Ax, not when he’s freely admitted that he’s doing some kind of alien-magic-glamour-thing to appear human. (Although, as he explained apologetically, he’s not nearly as good at it as his brother would be; from the way he tells it, Elfangor hung the moon, arranged the stars, and single-handedly invented the internet.) She has no idea what to make of Jake, whose life story defined her entire childhood and who is proving to be just as much of a clueless idiot as the rest of them. She actually likes Marco, not so much in spite of their verbal sparring but because of it, since she can tell that he enjoys getting a sharp comeback out of her almost as much as he enjoys scoring a hit himself.

“What’s a part-time CW melodrama actor even doing on this team?” Rachel asks him. “I mean, take away those three Grammys you almost won, and—”

“I’m only the third-smartest person on the planet, head of R&D for the single biggest telecommunications contractor in the U.S., runner-up for a Nobel Prize thanks to my groundbreaking work in increasing accessibility for information technology, and…” Marco pauses for dramatic effect. “Fifteenth sexiest man alive for 2009, according to People magazine.” He gives a tiny bow. “Oh, and I build AI robots that help me save the planet from aliens, which is more than the fourteen men allegedly sexier than me can claim,” he adds as an afterthought.

“His ego’s only so big to compensate for his lack of height,” Rachel whispers loudly to Cassie.

“Whereas the biohacker who dosed herself with untested DNA-rewiring implants in order to avoid CDC oversight,” Marco drawls, “could never ever be accused of hubris.”

“Can we please get back to talking about how aliens are invading the planet?” Jake asks the room at large.

“I spoke to that other andalite,” Cassie says.

“Alloran,” Ax supplies. “Looorrran.”

“No, actually.” Cassie considers, choosing her words. “There’s a yeerk controlling Alloran. Calls itself Visser Three. That yeerk is itself working for this other power, one called Crayak. I don’t fully understand the nature of this Crayak person, but I did find out that he wants to use Rachel to…” She pauses delicately.

“To let out my inner berserker, who will kill the rest of you?” Rachel suggests.

“You won’t let that happen,” Jake says stubbornly.

Rachel lets out a harsh laugh. “This?” She gestures to herself. “This is Nice Rachel, and let’s be honest that I’m not that nice. The other one? Mean Rachel? She might like all of you just fine, and she’ll still rip you all to shreds the first time you startle or annoy her. Cassie can talk the other Rachel down sometimes, under the right circumstances, but the rest of you can kiss your butts goodbye if stuck in an enclosed little helicarrier with me when I get pissed off.”

“Anyway, we’ll keep Rachel nice and calm.” Cassie offers a small smile. “And leaving aside the fact that Crayak might be using this whole yeerk invasion as an opening play in some even bigger chess game, there’s still Visser Three’s stake in this all to consider. Near as I can tell, his motivation is some mix of the usual—pride, greed, wrath—but this whole thing with wiping out the humans seems to have something to do with how much one of his fellow yeerks, Visser One if I’ve got the name right, happens to like this species.”

“You got all that from one conversation?” Jake sounds impressed.

“Please assure me you did not do anything… untoward to that host body,” Ax says.

“Nah.” Marco’s tone is full of false brightness. “Haven’t you heard? Agent Werewolf here was a voluntary controller herself back in the wild days of her misspent youth. I bet she and the ol’ visser cracked open a cold one and shot the shit about their glory days together, no thumb screws necessary.”

Rachel snarls, fiercely gratified to see Marco go dead white. “That’s cute, coming from a war profiteering gunrunner. You, what? Followed daddy right into the rocket-making business, didn’t care if the rockets hit the wrong planet just as long as they performed perfectly?” She shoves him in the chest; he stumbles back several feet. “I know what you are. I know it took one of your own bombs going off in your face for you even to think about giving a damn about what happened to them after you were done engineering them. I know you have no right, no right to talk to Cassie like—”

“Rachel.” Jake’s voice is quiet, but very firm. “Rachel, put the scepter down.”

She swings around to point it at him, and wow. She’s not sure when she even picked the thing up. It’s heavy and hot in her hand, pulsing with her own raging heartbeat.

“I’ve acknowledged my past, and I’m learning to deal with it.” Cassie faces Marco, but she’s speaking to Rachel as well, struggling to calm everyone down. “Not knowing what I was doing at the time is no excuse for what I’ve done. I let a yeerk into my brain, yes, even thought that I was saving a different host when I did so. I’m the one who trusted them out of naïveté, and…” Cassie draws herself up, looking around the room. “I’m the reason so many of the U.S.’s enemies have the power to morph right now. I’m no better than Seerow, in my own way. If anyone here has a problem with that…”

“Then it can wait,” Jake finishes. He’s looking at Ax, who stares at Cassie with something between anger and horror.

“Yes, Prince Jake,” Ax says.

Jake takes a breath. “I’m not really a—”

“That title is not given out lightly. Tlee.” Ax smiles a little. “Nor should it be set aside once given.”

Rachel finds she has lowered the scepter, set it back on the table. That she’s breathing more normally, berserker kept at bay for the moment. Cassie looks at her with a silent question, and Rachel nods. She’s coming back to baseline, will be calm in a minute or two just as long as nothing else happens.

Which is, of course, when the goddamn helicarrier starts falling out of the sky.

Tobias rolls over, gasping for air, fighting down the desire to puke. He’s back in control of his own body for now, which is good, even if he is pretty sure that things did not exactly go according to plan back there. It probably wasn’t in the team’s response plan for him to get carried and then thrown across the room by Rachel—or rather, Rachel’s furry little problem—while Cassie rushed around dodging her and trying to make soothing noises. The plan probably didn’t call for Odret 177 to take one look at the seven-foot-tall clawed-and-fanged version of Rachel and abandon Tobias’s body as a lost cause, even if that had worked out well. The part where Marco had sprouted some kind of exoskeleton and gone to work on the helicarrier’s fried turbine, and where the andalite guy had dropped the human act in favor of using a massive dose of electricity to restart the engines… Well, that had gone okay as well.

With difficulty, Tobias shoves himself into a sitting position. His entire body is shaking uncontrollably. “Well,” he says hoarsely, “that was even worse than I expected it would be.”

“I know,” Cassie says, and she does. She sits next to him, gently lowering his head to rest on her shoulder. She knows what it is to have her mind overthrown, which is why she’s the one who’s here.

Then again. Tobias’s eggs are still scrambled, but he’s starting to realize maybe Cassie is the only one available. SHIELD is elbows-deep in the mess he just made. Last he saw, Marco and Ax were still performing emergency repairs. There’s every possibility Rachel hasn’t stopped rampaging. After all, Jake had been the only one attempting to deal with her, and… Well. Tobias is sure he’s doing his best, and equally sure he’s getting his ass kicked. Rachel will sometimes change back for Cassie, and she’d probably re-emerge if Ax managed to zap her unconscious. Tobias, on the other hand… Rachel’s other self doesn’t hurt Tobias, but she doesn’t relax around him either. Mostly she stuffs Tobias into a corner and then relentlessly scans for anything that could possibly hurt him, annihilating all threats with extreme prejudice. And someone just hurt Tobias.

“How do we fight this?” Tobias asks Cassie. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just some guy.”

“I think that’s true of all of us.” Jake stands in the doorway. He’s battered and rumpled-looking, but he’s still upright. “Rachel’s gone. Ripped a hole in the side of the ship and then…” He winces.

“She’ll be fine.” Cassie puts a hand on his arm. “You all right?”

“Five by five.” Jake looks from her to Tobias. “You know how to fly?”

At that, in spite of the day he’s had, Tobias actually laughs. “Yeah, man, I can pilot us.”

They commandeer a quinjet, mostly through the power of Jake “War-Prince” “Yeerk-Killer” “Captain America” Berenson’s legendary cussedness. Although, as Tobias is figuring out, Jake’s not a particular fan of any of the nicknames the media has given him. Understandable, really, since the guy clearly doesn’t revel in the spotlight like Marco or understand how to use it like Rachel and Cassie.

“Peregrine,” Tobias says on the tail of a sudden thought.

“What?” Jake says sharply.

“Peregrine.” Tobias doesn’t look away from the quinjet’s viewscreen. “That’s what your team called you, right? Back during the war.” He glances over long enough to smile. “Don’t worry, I promise not to hold it against you.”

That name, unlike the Yeerk-Killer nonsense, seems to unlock something in Jake. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You jump out of one measly little airplane without a parachute one time, and you never live it down.” He sits down next to Tobias, suddenly looking about 20 years younger. “No one actually knows for sure that I achieved terminal velocity on the way down,” he confesses, “and no matter what the wiki pages of your web net might claim, the part where I destroyed a Panzer IV on the landing was purely accidental. Anyway, why would you hold it against me?”

Tobias smiles. “‘Cause peregrines kill red-tails. My carnie nickname was Hawkeye, and they let me keep it as a call sign.”

“‘Carnie?’” Jake frowns, confused.

“I ran away and joined the circus when I was thirteen.” Tobias glances over long enough to raise his eyebrows and make it clear that no, he’s not joking. “Got sick of being passed around from relative to relative, and by then I’d figured out I had skills that the performers could use.”

“What can you do, anyway?” Jake asks.

“Like I said, I’m a pilot.”

Cassie takes that opportunity to lean against his chair on the far side. “He’s being modest. If you think that Marco can do crazy things with flight tech, you haven’t seen anything. Add to that Tobias’s affinity for birds—yes, even peregrine falcons, no matter how much he grumbles—and ‘pilot’ is an understatement.”

Jake’s mouth opens halfway. “You talk… to birds?”

“I communicate with them. Sort of.” Tobias gives another smile, this one distinctly self-deprecating. “My mom always claimed I was half-alien, if that explains it. But, well, between the traumatic brain injury and…” He sighs. “Mostly just the fact that no one ever believed Mom because of the traumatic brain injury, I didn’t exactly give the idea much credence until I figured out about the birds. Anyway, even if my dad is some kind of alien prince or whatever, he’s never bothered to send so much as a text message my way.” He shakes his head, shaking off the impulse toward self-pity. “Where the hell are we going, again?”

“You know that monument to his own ego that Marco was kind enough to build and then drop in the middle of Manhattan?” Cassie raises her eyebrows. “We’re pretty sure Visser Three is holed up there.”

Marco thinks he plays it off pretty well, all things considered. After all, his team doesn’t have to know that he screams like a baby for over half his fall from the sky, and ultimately Dian gets the Mark VI armor to him in time to stop him from going splat on the ground. He lands next to where the rest of the team (including Rachel’s smaller and nicer self) have congregated on a rooftop. And by the time he slides the helmet off he’s barely breathing hard at all.

“So,” Rachel says, “I’m guessing the yeerks did, in fact, appropriate your giant phallus?”

“The EGS Tower is the single greatest zero-emissions energy source in the entire western hemisphere,” Marco says, only somewhat sulky. “And anyway, not all of us can have our faces carved into Mount Rushmore.”

Jake cringes so sharply, body folding into itself as his entire face goes red, that Marco feels bad for having said it.

“Anyway.” Marco shifts, still adjusting to the new armor, which forms a hard-shelled simian arachnid around his squishy human body. “Our theory was right. Visser Three tried to stick a yeerk in me, and this baby—” He taps his cochlear implant. “Fried it to death. I told Visser Three the Animorphs were going to kick his ass, or at least that the rest of us would stand by and cheer as Rachel kicked his ass, he objected, and…” Marco makes a gesture to approximate the part where he was thrown out a window.

“Animorphs?” Ax asks. “Ah. Niiii-morfs.”

“Sure,” Marco says. “Between Bird Boy’s mind-melding, Rachel’s Dr. Jekyll act, the fact that you’re only human when you want to be, my own beautiful cyborg parts, the part where Cassie straight-up becomes a yeerk when she feels like it, and the way that questionable science transformed Jake into a walking action figure with Product of Mattel stamped on his perfectly-shaped plastic butt, I figured our little band of shapeshifters needed a proper name.”

“So, about this alien invasion…” Jake looks around to be sure he has their attention, nods once. “Tobias, gonna need you directing us from above, figuring out where the rest of us can be the most use. Cassie, you’re the closest thing we have to an expert in yeerk tech, so get to work on the transmitter for that portal. Ax, get her up there and then focus on shutting down those Bug fighter things as fast as you can generate the lightning to do it. I’ll be on the ground trying to keep the human civilians separate from those hork-bajir-controllers. Marco will keep to the air to try and draw the Blade ship’s attention. Rachel…” He gives a slight bow. “You know what to do.”

She grins, showing all her teeth, which are rapidly multiplying. She says something in response but it gets lost under the sound of her spine rippling and deforming to support limbs that have grown muscular and sprouted six-inch claws. With a manic laugh she jumps, springing forty feet straight into the air to collide with a Bug fighter; the Bug fighter comes off worse.

Marco shifts his exoskeleton into place, brian implants controlling the four extra limbs attached to the armor. “Dr. Fossey?” he says into the helmet, and hears his AI come online. “All right,” he tells the group as a whole. “Gonna go get some attention, bring the party to you.”

He takes off, but not before he hears Cassie sigh loudly and say, “I hate parties.”

Cassie waits until well after the battle is over, when they’re straggling in an uneven line down the street toward the shawarma that Marco promised to find them, before she dares reach out and very gently take Jake’s hand. He looks over in surprise when she does, but also folds his scabbed and very dirty fingers around hers with a faint smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” She glances up at him. “Was that your first kiss since 1945?” She phrases it that way since asking was that your first kiss outright would definitely be rude.

Jake clears his throat. “Was… was that a kiss?”

She can see why he’d be uncertain. He’d just fallen out of the sky, had come entirely too close for anyone’s comfort to getting smashed to pieces on the rubble before Rachel saved him, when Cassie had lunged at him with an uncharacteristic lack of caution and… Okay, she’s not sure how one could interpret it as anything but a kiss. “I wanted it to be,” she says now. “If you don’t, that’s all right. So. Was it your first since 1945?”

“I’m ninety-five, not dead,” Jake grumbles.

Which answers her question. She’s not all that surprised; she knows his life story. Knows that he managed to sneak his way into the Army in spite of being unable to make the cut for his high school’s sports teams, much less qualify for military service at age 19 after signing up for a experimental enhancement. Knows that he went AWOL to rescue his older brother from yeerk hold, and that the surprising success of the mission gave the Army’s half-forgotten guinea pig an unexpected dose of legitimacy. Knows that that same older brother was killed in action two years after that, leaving behind a wife who later founded SHIELD and a son who became Rachel’s father. Knows that Jake himself was declared missing and presumed only a few months later, actually trapped in Arctic ice until he was discovered three short weeks ago. There simply hasn’t been time.

She’s not sure if she should be more proud or worried that she just stole the first kiss of a national icon. “I’m pretty sure you’re a decent human being,” she tells him. She shifts her hand slightly to lace their fingers together. “I’m pretty sure that decent human beings don’t turn into wolves and rip people’s throats out the way I do. I’d probably still be refusing to take sides as the yeerks tore apart lives if Tobias hadn’t decided to spare my life in spite of all logic and in spite of direct orders.”

Jake is silent for a long time. Finally he says, “World War II was only simple and heroic in the retelling. The phrase Greatest Generation didn’t even come about until the late 1990s, well after most of the people who would have called bullshit were dead. I just…” He takes a breath, looking straight up. “I just unleashed a nuclear weapon upon several thousand living beings, killed I don’t know how many. The people who say that my hands are clean because I only kill aliens don’t deserve to call themselves human, much less Americans.”

“For pete’s sake, just kiss already!” Rachel calls loudly from behind them. “You’re giving me a friggin’ toothache, and I’m already hangry.”

Ax realizes that the longer he spends on this strange little planet interacting with its strange little sentient species, the more he appreciates why his brother always enjoyed coming here. Prince Jake might shy away from his title, but he also becomes the one to stop and check in on every member of his team after they are first seated at the food establishment, taking a moment to talk to each of them in spite of the way that he is himself swaying in exhaustion. Rachel is a magnificent warrior and it was an honor to fight by her side, while Cassie defies every expectation through her undeniable competence. Marco’s cheerful promise to introduce Ax to every food on a stick that Earth has to offer conceals a true offer of friendship at its core. Ax went out drinking Tobias during the whole messy affair around his first landing on Earth; later, one of the SHIELD agents had started to explain Hawkeye’s role to Ax, and it’d felt right when Ax blurted out, “He’s a friend.”

This moment feels important, Ax concludes, and not just because of his fifth helping of delicious shaved meat products upon delightfully textured bread. It feels like the start of something. Rachel and Marco are bickering companionably about the exact nature of that alien portal, and you could almost miss the way that Tobias’s and Rachel’s legs tangle together as she curls her body halfway around him. Jake looks ready to doze off, but pulls himself out of it every time he realizes what’s happening, while Cassie watches him with a gentle smile.

“So, you headed home after this?” Tobias asks. He’s pale and bruised, but his appetite has proven to be healthy enough.

Ax considers. “The Andalite Electorate will dispense justice to Alloran, both for his actions during the hork-bajir conflict and…” He stops. It doesn’t do to bad-mouth his own people when speaking to aliens.

“They don’t like that he got taken.” Tobias smiles, bitter and tired. “Their little Abomination is some seriously bad press, and they’re going to bring holy hell down on him for it.”

Ax sets down his pita and folds his hands on the tabletop. They are strong and five-fingered and pale brown right now because he wishes them to be. It is easy enough to manipulate the electricity that makes his shape take on different appearances, even if he will probably never have his brother’s gift for illusions. “You’re not wrong,” he says at last. “Once I believed… leeeve-ed. That my people were without fault, that our causes were righteous. Once I hungered for war. Once I thought it to be nothing more than another driftball game with higher stakes and greater chance for glory. Once I dreamed of that glory, dreamed of war. Now… Ow. Wwwww.”

Tobias’s expression suggests that he knows perfectly well Ax is only playing around with mouth-sounds to buy himself time.

“Now I have few certainties,” Ax finally admits.

“You have us.” Tobias doesn’t hesitate. “For what we’re worth, that is.” He glances around at where Cassie is giggling while Rachel flicks tomatoes into Marco’s hair. She has one hand over her mouth to try and avoid making enough noise to rouse Jake, who is sleeping face-down in a blob of tabbouleh.

“You are all of you worth very much to me.” Once again, the words feel right even as Ax says them. “And I’d be honored to fight with you once again, should the need arise.”

[All my other AUs are housed here.]

#au #Anonymous #asks #animorphs #avengers #animorphs au #animorphs fic #andalites #avengers fusion #animorphs fusion #i have no idea if this one was inspired by the opening of thing from anothr world or not

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argylemikewheeler · 6 years

Note

BRO HAVE I GOT A PROMPT FOR YOU, BECAUSE I SAW YOUR AMAZINGN POST AND IM HAVING A MOMENT billy meets will and the entire party just goes off and protects him and our badass boy will is awesome and the hero we all need

+ Will has powers (put Byler somewhere). also? i love Will with powers.

Friday after school, Max promised Will she’d teach him how to skateboard in the parking lot. Everyone watched and waited by the bike rack, Max trying to explain the basics to Will without letting him place a single foot on the skateboard. Will listened intently, nodding his head and trying to copy Max’s footing on the asphalt before placing himself on the board.

“Please be careful.” Mike gasped, placing a hand over his mouth. Will tripped over his shoelaces the week prior taking a walk with Mike on Mirkwood and Mike nearly had a heart attack at the amount of blood Will’s knees could spill. If it hadn’t been for Will’s stubborn attitude, Mike would have carried him home.

“I will.” Will laughed, placing a delicate foot on the skateboard. One foot, and he was still steady. As he planted the second, he immediately began leaning back, the board getting away from him. The group jumped forward, Lucas nearly skidding under him to break his fall, when Will stopped moving, held mid-air. “El, I’m fine! You don’t have to babysit me!”

“Okay.” She said, blinking and rolling her eyes. Mike thanked her quietly before sitting down next to her along the school wall. She gripped her hands in her lap, but still kept her eyes focused on Will as he flitted around the lot. Mike watched as well, twisting his hands and trying to not follow him around with his arms out.

“What time is it?” Dustin asked, leaning his head against the wall. “I have to be home by four.”

Eleven checked her watch, holding it out in front of Dustin’s eyes, nearly hitting his face. “Not.”

“Three-fifteen. Cool.” Dustin pushed her arm back.

“Three-fifteen?” Max echoed, turning her head to stare at Dustin. “Already?” She took her eyes off Will and he began wobbling. “No. Your watch must be fast.”

“I’ve got three-fifteen too.” Lucas said, holding it out for her. “Mike?”

“Yup.” Mike said. “What’s wrong?”

“My brother is supposed to be here.” Max said, scrambling to grab her bag. “I have to–”

“Ow!” The group whipped their heads to see Will on the ground, skateboard rolling away from him. The board came under the booted foot of Max’s brother, driver side door open directly over Will. Will cradled his head and rolled onto his side.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Max said, swinging her bag over her shoulder and taking off running. “Everyone stay here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you with him.” Lucas argued, following her closely. He reached behind him to dig through his bag, searching for his wrist rocket.

“Is he okay?” Mike fretted, getting to his feet and running after him.

“Move.” Eleven said, waving her friends out of her way as she walked towards Billy, head lowering and hand raising.

“No! Don’t!” Dustin cried. “You can’t do anything too crazy right now. You’re still hiding, El.” He grabbed her arms and yanked them to her sides. She sighed and rolled her eyes, slowly nodding and understanding the danger.

“Will! Will, are you okay?” Mike tried to reach Will but Billy stuck a hand out and shoved Mike into Dustin.

“These your friends?” He said to Max. “You guys hang out with this bitch?”

“Leave her alone.” Lucas said firmly, pulling his wrist rocket string back.

“Oh, we’ve got some toy soldiers here today, fellas.” There was no one else there, but Mike already felt like they were outnumbered. “Let’s see who gets sent home first.”

“What is your goddamn problem!” Max cried, throwing her bag at the car. “Will, are you okay?” She reached out and pulled Will to his feet, walking him over to Mike and Eleven. Eleven still had her eyes fixed on Billy, but wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and pulled him close to her.

“I’m fine.” Will said, smoothing his shirt down. “I’m okay.”

“Already running from the fight? How did you survive the woods again?” Billy chuckled, situating his feet far apart and resting a hand in his pocket while the other clamped two fingers around a cigarette. “Why didn’t they just let you die?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” Mike said, glaring at Billy. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, keeping him still as he slowly turned towards Max’s brother.

“Mike, don’t. It’s okay.” Will pleaded, gripping his hand and pulling him back. “I’m fine.”

“Right between the eyes, Lucas.” Mike said lowly, pointing his hand at Billy. He laughed openly and flicked his cigarette butt at Mike, the embers fizzling out at their feet. Will watched it come at them, pulling Mike by the waist to avoid the burn.

“Guys, it’s not worth it. Go home.” Max said, starting to march the group back towards the school. She seemed to forget she had to get in the car.

“Run, bitch. Run.” Billy rolled his tongue along his bottom teeth, watching them rush away from him as if his long sigh was blowing them towards the school. They all raced away, Mike’s hand gripping Will’s arm tightly. Dustin was at the front door, holding it open for the group, and Eleven stomping besides them all, still craning her neck to stare at Billy. He was laughing, calling after his sister and spitting words after them. Will felt his feet dig into the ground and his arm slip out of Mike’s grip.

“Will? Will, come on.” Mike said, reaching for his hand.

“No.” Will said slowly, turning to face Billy. “No. No, I can’t let him talk about her like that.”

“Will, please don’t.” Mike pleaded, reaching for him again. “Please, he’ll hurt you.” Mike could see Billy’s face twisting into a smile as Will faced him, about to continue the fight.

“Byers! What are you doing!” Max yelled, watching him step towards Billy. “Byers!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Will said, inching towards Billy. “She’s our friend.”

“Well, guess what princess, she’s not mine.” Billy laughed, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket. “Fuck off.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and held it up to the end of his cigarette.

“No.” Will’s arm swung out and the flame flickered down to a puff of smoke. “You take it back.” Mike winced as Will moved. Beside him, Eleven froze, watching Will with eyes that grew wider the closer Will got to Billy.

Mike reached out to stop him but Eleven shook her head. “He’s fine.” She said quietly. “Will’s fine.” She sounded uncertain and surprised.

“Apologize to her. Now.” Will cried, waving another hand outward and Billy’s lighter following suit. It clanked against the asphalt, every set of eyes following it. “NOW!”

“What the fuck are you.” Billy said lowly, advancing from his car. His boots thudded against the ground, advancing towards Will in a standoff. “Since when do faggots fight?”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Mike cut in, stepping up besides Will. He had no means to fight, but now had a fire flaring in his chest as he watched Billy laugh at Will.

“It’s okay, Mike.” Will said, turning to him. He placed a hand on Mike’s arm. The touch sent shivers through his arm; it felt strong, but his fingers never gripped tighter than he would around a flower. “I can do this.”

“Do what?” Mike asked, shaking his head. Will couldn’t fight. Mike knew it and knew it from a sincere and loving place in his heart. Will couldn’t do what he had heard and seen Steve do. There was just no way– and no way Will thought he could either. “Will? Will!”

Will started walking towards Billy. Mike was sure he had smashed his head against the pavement when Billy pushed him; he had to be hallucinating. Will was walking so surely towards a boy with a rumbling car, a fiery look in his eyes, and a tight grip pulsing his knuckles closed.

“Oh, this is gonna be good. This is going to be so good.” His arm tilted back, elbow bent and wrist set straight.

“Will, please don’t, Will. Oh my god, Will. Stop.” Mike pleaded.

“Don’t hurt me or my friends ever again.” Will spoke as if to a teacher, firm, but polite and still phrasing it as if it was a request. “Leave us alone.”

“You think I’m scared of you?” He kept his arm cocked, still walking towards him in a strange bow-legged fashion. Will cocked his head in confusion. His eyes left Billy, looking at the space between them, allowing himself to face only his thoughts. Will lifted a hand, looking at his palm, and left the whole group frozen; he was going to get himself killed. “You think I’m scared of you– a puny, shrunken, tiny, infantile–”

“Yes.” Will said, throwing his hand out towards Billy. As if in a gust of wind, Billy flew back into his car. His head slammed against the car frame and his back bowed backwards into the empty driver’s seat.

“What the–”

“Eleven! I said not to do anything!” Dustin hushed, staring at her with wide eyes.

“I–I didn’t. I didn’t do that!” She insisted, shaking her head and holding her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t.”

“Will did.” Mike said slowly. “Will did it.”

“What?” Max stepped up to Will, standing in his line of vision with Billy groaning behind her. “Did you do that?”

“Yeah.” Will sounded breathless, although his chest wasn’t heaving trying to catch his breath. A single stream of blood ran down from his nose. “I could do it.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” Mike said quietly, taking the hand still raised as a threat to Billy and squeezing it in his own. Will’s hands were shaking, but Mike was sure there were no powers involved in that. He held Will’s hand tightly in both of his hands, and pressed it against his chest as he walked Will back towards the school. They ignored the winded and moaning teenager trying to call after them.

“El, would you please?” Will said, stepping in time with Mike.

“Yes.” She said, lowering her head again. “Mouthbreather.”

They heard Billy’s car door slam and the engine turn off as Mike and Will walked through the school doors, Dustin directly behind them.

“How long have you been able to do that?” Dustin cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “That was incredible!”

“I–I don’t know. I just kind of… felt it.” Will shrugged, flexing his fingers in Mike’s grip. Mike squeezed tighter. “I just thought of it. I could see it happening– so then I made it happen. I wasn’t going to do anything at first.” Will closed his eyes tightly, his voice dropping off. “But then I just… I got so angry. I felt it everywhere. Everywhere. I knew I could do it. I knew it. I knew I could fight back.” He smiled at Mike, proud of himself.

“And that’s incredible.” Mike whispered, taking Will’s other hand. “But don’t go into a fight unless you know you have superpowers. Okay?” He nodded, biting his lip.

“Between you and El, we are definitely going to get arrested.” Dustin muttered, lifting his cap to run a hand through his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Our dad is the Chief of Police.” Will said, looking at Dustin with a smirk. “We’re fine.”

ao3

#byeler #byler #will byers with powers #will byers x mike wheeler #stranger things writing #prompts

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mygiantesslove · 6 years

Text

Mother & Son: Underfoot by Azra

Chapter 11

Debra turned around and popped her little son back into her butt. Squeezing him between her cheeks she briefly registered him opening his mouth to let her ass-flesh in, as she had taught him to do so many times before, as the sound of his moaning became more and more faint until finally, with Phil wedged in the deepest, softest part of her ass, she could barely hear him. As she pulled up her panties it lessened still more and by the time she had squeezed into her custom-fitted Armani pants, there were only the exquisite vibrations of his screaming traveling the short distance from his mouth up her sensitive little anus.

Absent-mindedly she began squeezing him as she packed her case and finished dressing for the day. Again and again, he was reminded that his mother's ass owned him and that was where he belonged. She meanwhile was simply having breakfast - sliced oranges, fresh juice, light cereal and french toast. It was wonderful, and she could already feel her son lapping away at her buttcrack, trying to pry some form off sustenance from the hardened excrement in there. Her crotch tingled as she bit into a delicious slice of fresh orange, there was nothing to compare to having molded her son to voluntarily worship her own ass.

Finally, when she was done Mrs. Metzger plucked her car keys up off the dresser and bent down to pick up her attache case. Her she paused, with her buttocks fully expanded and pressed against her tight Armani pants.

"Now, pay attention sweetie, because your role is very important. Today, mommy needs you to help her make a good impression on our new clients. To do that, I want you to push your little head between my buttocks and up into my asshole, so that when you hear mommy's bowels rumbling you can start taking good deep breaths and absorb all the gas that builds up before it squeaks out past your face. I'd feel much more in control if I knew only you have to smell my farts. Oh, and do remember to do as I say, sweetie, because I know you can hear me because of my voice vibrating down into you through my flesh when I trap you between my big, meaty cheeks. Otherwise, mommy will have to punish you accordingly." Debra said, proceeding to clench her cheeks to show she meant business.

It was a short elevator ride from her penthouse to the underground parking complex but she used it to run a short mental checklist; clothes, phone, keys, files, son in butt, breakfast, check - ah! She had to check with Eve about her appointments for the day.

It was a chilly day so Debra made full use of her luxury Ranger Rover's heated seats, which to be honest always made her rump quite sweaty. It was a ten-minute drive to work down the main roads but she preferred to go hard down the side-streets. She turned hard into the driveway to her company's underground lot. She had quietly admitted to herself that while it was most rewarding to have her son voluntarily worship her ass, occasionally squishing him out of his wits between her cheeks had its own charming appeal.

The elevator was free. It was always free when it was your elevator. The door pinged as she reached her ground-level lobby and a pleasant female voice intoned

"Welcome to Bottom-Heavy Industries, where a Large Ass is the Seat of Happiness!"

She was quite proud of that one. She waved over to Barbara at the front desk as she strolled, past, wiggling her behind outrageously as the receptionist giggled. Being one of her confidantes, Barbara was well aware of Phil's plight between his mother's massive buttocks. Striding past the art-deco mosaic on the wall she paused briefly to admire it. Debra loved art-deco. That's why she'd chosen the style to remodel her new corporate headquarters. It was so indicative of a better time when everything and everyone was who and where they were meant to be. She'd also chosen the style for her corporate logo, which at first glance looked like a tesseract globe with the body of a man holding it up on his shoulders, but upon closer inspection it became obvious it was an enormous female bottom squashing a tiny male body, with his head just about to pop in between the crack. Officially she had dubbed it Volumnia and Coriolanus, but everyone in the company knew that it was modeled off of Debra squishing her son in her ass. It was a point of pride among the members of her all-female staff. Apparently the model and original print were on display in her private office.

The staff elevator took her the rest of the way to the top floor, given over entirely to her own executive office and a luxurious lobby which featured flowing water and a brace of Reubensque masterpieces. She stopped in to see Eve on the way into her office. Her little boy Adam was there. She asked him if he was helping his mommy with her secretary work. He said he was, like a good boy, but that he couldn't take her full weight for more than a minute without screaming. Nevermind honey, his mom said, mommy enjoyed that part too.

The doors to her office were always a treat. Debra pushed her cheeks around the handle, clenched, and twisted and the door slid open. She took extra care to shuffle around the office in her tight pants. Her large buttocks swelled and jiggled as she opened the expensive oaken shades to her top-floor suite, and bounced lightly as she dropped her attache case on her fine granite desk. She plopped happily down in her executive leather chair, and with the tap of an unseen button, the specially engineered chair delivered a welcomed massage to her back, thighs, and butt. Eyes closed in contentment, she reached out and plucked up the first memo awaiting her attention from the desk. Meeting: 8.15 - Jocasta Productions; Mdme Harukawa. She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly under her weight. It wasn't unusual for media outlets to seek the employment of Bottom Heavy Industries, she herself had modeled from AssDom Magazine with a fully-grown Phil as her sub but never had an entire television production company sought their attention before. She sipped thoughtfully from the coffee her secretary helpfully perched near her elbow. This could be fun.

"Mrs. Metzger? Madame Harukawa is here to see you."

It was 8.14. The woman had a sense of timing. "Thank you, Eve, send her in."

A few seconds later her black oak double doors opened and in sauntered Madame Harukawa, an Asian Reubenesque delight buxom in chest, belly, and bottom, decorated in a figure-hugging fashion that showed off every inch of her prodigious curves. She was smaller than Debra herself and slightly less toned, but when she flashed that smile and batted those eyes you would suddenly forget all of that.

Madame Harukawa looked around President Metzger's office. She thought she was obviously a very successful woman. The Venus Callipyge was the center of attention, occupying a grand, well-lit space behind the woman's desk, enclosed in what was surely alarmed glass and covered with cameras. Opposite it, just beside the doorway out of the room was a piece she didn't recognize, assumedly of Mrs. Metzger's own creation. In it, a buxom, plump, bottom-heavy woman, buck-naked, was standing triumphantly, arms outstretched in victory with a crown newly pressed on her head as a small, reedy man knelt behind her with his face buried in her buxom rump, his arms wrapped around her hips tightly with a tiny, wretched-looking crown almost falling off his head. Both members were fully aroused. She bent over to examine the title on the dais: Volumnia Defeats Coriolanus in Triumph. The mother of a Shakespearean story here looked shockingly like the head of the company she had come to visit. Madame Harukawa smiled. She believed she understood.

She walked over in front of Debra's desk and bowed curtly and politely. "Harukawa Nami." She smiled. Debra returned the bow. "Debra Metzger. Pleased to meet you Madame Harukawa, to what do I owe the grace of your visit?"

By 9am Debra and Nami were chatting away like old friends. Jocasta Productions, the television production company that Madame Harukawa represented, was a leader in the booming femdom television market and looking to expand into the country. They were working in a public-participation reality game show and were interested in Mrs. Metzger as a leading figure in the industry, and of course, her son too. They would participate in the game show and Bottom-Heavy Industries would get some free national face-time and the option of prime sponsorship. Debra was flattered and very keen on getting a deal done. Phil just kept trying to breathe. Debra felt rumbling in her bowels and then her little buttplug began squirming desperately. Debra tried not to smile too obviously. Her son was doing wonderful work.

"Well then," Madame Harukawa spoke in clipped English, "can you take him out please?"

Thank God I didn't wear him as a thong today, Debra thought. Phil hit the table with a light thud. "He'll be disorientated for a bit. There's little air in my butt and having my full weight on him takes it out of him, not to mention being constantly squeezed by my cheeks." After Madame Harukawa had a chance to inspect him, and he had recovered for a few minutes Debra carefully plucked her son off the table and dropped him into her high-heeled shoe. "There, now have fun with mommy's foot sweetie, and don't be afraid to jack off in there." She said, clamping his head in place with her big and middle toe and squishing him until his body went rigid. "Now, what were we saying?" She inquired of her guest.

After a while, their conversation began to talk about the mysterious concoction that Debra had been using all these years. "It is truly a remarkable and unique tonic." Nami intoned. "The ability to shrink a man and regrow him to natural size, it's well known that's what you based your company's great success on, but we are amazed it hasn't become more widespread in usage."

"Mmm." Debra nodded. "It's a complicated little mixture that's taken us years to patent, to be honest, I was amazed when the mail order nonsense I ordered worked, but once I found out it did I put every waking hour into having our company take theirs over brick by brick. As it turns out it was just some small collection of college girls with a particular gift for this particular branch of genetics. No business acumen, but keen to work. The potion is a wonder in itself - aside from the ability to shrink and grow her son, it seems to help a mother retain her beauty and sexual luster. I'm not getting any younger of course, but I have noticed my morning jogs getting easier over the years, a few wrinkles straightening out, my boobs and butt staying firm and round, that sort of thing, while at the same time keeping the son smaller and reedier. That part is still something of a mystery to us, but it seems to have something to do with the process of the mother dominating her son acting as a catalyst, rather than simply the potion acting on its own. Regardless essentially I give him the concoction and then fart in his face to shrink him, or give him the antidote and make him drink my foot sweat to grow him back to normal. The process only takes a couple of minutes, but the trigger is key and is an exclusive maternal bond - it has to be my fart being sniffed by my son, or the process will halt. The bond seems to be dormant in most mother-son relationships, and we've found no similar sequences available between brothers and sisters or mothers and daughters, or fathers at all, so it seems to be an exclusive genetic trait to allow mothers to dominate their son's lives." She smiled. "Looks like it was always meant to be that way."

She took a tiny water bottle out and pulled her foot out of her shoe, taking Phil with her. His head still trapped between her clenching toes she dropped a few mouthfuls of the potion into his mouth. "Come on Phil sweetie, drink up!" She encouraged him, setting him down and rubbing the sweaty sole of her foot over his face, encouraging him to lick and swallow her foot sweat. Nami found herself getting wet at the site of the little boy willingly drinking his own mother's foot sweat, but that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Phil woke up. He found himself full-sized and naked in his mom's office, lying in front of her and an attractive if older and heavy-set Asian woman. She winked naughtily and blew him a kiss.

"Phil sweetie, Madame Harukawa and I want to use you for a little fun. Why don't you go over to our little love seat and lie down?" His mom ordered, patting him on the cheek with her bare foot.

"I - I guess so, mom." He replied. He tried to resist as he was in company, but in the end quickly turned and buried his face in his mom's sole, kissing it quickly. Both ladies got a chuckle out of that.

Phil walked over to the wooden and leather seating device his mom had made especially for them, and laid down on it. His mom invited her guest over and as both full-bodied businesswomen walked over Phil got a little nervous, and a little aroused. His mom as always took his face, squashing it under her immense ass, but now Madame Harukawa's large rump, not as big but just as solid, settled over his crotch and pressed down heavily. He was now being squashed by two enormous female bottoms at the same time. Both women faced each other, their enormous thighs straddling Phil in the cowgirl position, another indignity his mom enjoyed, waiting for the inevitable exquisite squirming and vibrations when he began to run out of air and couldn't take the strain or smell anymore. They did not have long to wait, and both women moaned as Phil's pained moans and thrashings brought them extravagant pleasure. Barely able to move through the pleasure, Debra insisted they both remain seated on her son after he lost consciousness, waiting for a little surprise - Phil's erections finally overflowed as he came a full thirty seconds after slipping into unconsciousness under his mother's smothering ass, sending both his squashers into mind-numbing orgasms. When Phil woke up he had been cleaned up and was chained behind his mom's desk, her standing just in front of him filling out some paperwork. He hesitantly kissed her bulbous buttocks to let her know he was awake.

"Mmm, such a good boy I've got." Mrs. Metzger purred, grabbing the back of Phil's head and rubbing it all over the back of her pants-covered rump, taking special care to run it up and down her crack. He moaned inwardly, but then snapped awake and pulled back like he was bitten.

"You do not want to worship your mother's ass? Why? It is so large and full, and your head alone is such a perfect fit!"

"Oh, he just goes through these phases every now and then." Debra tutted. "Talking about getting out and finding a job and friends and a girl and generally just slacking off his duties. He still sleeps in my buttcrack at the end of the day."

Madame Harukawa pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps further bonding experiences are required. Our show will certainly be able to accommodate you."

"Well, I've repeatedly considered having a priest marry us, so at last I can legally say my ass owns his face. I also think it'd give him a strong bond to cling to, it'd be good for him to support a wife, even if it is his mother's ass."

"Well, he seems to be supporting your ass very well as it is!" And they both laughed loudly, not really noticing Phil's member growing as they spoke.

"Indeed. Oftentimes I won't even bother with the big massage chair and I'll just chain him back behind my desk and sit on his face all day. There's nothing like having your son sniff your farts all day as you sit on his face, knowing he'd love to be between some girl's big knockers but instead is between his mom's heavy ass-cheeks." She giggled, and Madame Harukawa laughed too. "Sometimes I'll smother him with my big, heavy boobs to show him what he's missing. Sometimes I'll just wrap my big, thick thighs around his head and squeeze him so hard he passes out, and when he wakes up I'll have him massage my legs and tell me how good it feels while I do him again. Sometimes I'll wear him like a thong with his face buried up my ass and his little arms hugging my butt. Sometimes I'll stand on him and have him smell my feet for days." "Ah! Just now I see him reach for your feet with his hands! His feels his palms match your soles even though they smell and walk on him, he believes it his proper place! This is the bond between two people that can only come about by a mother dominating her son, molding him into her perfect sub for years." Phil tried not to hear anything, pushing his face deeper into his mom's buttocks and focusing on the sound of her bowels over his head. Debra just smirked, and slowly and meaningfully linked her toes with her darling son's fingers, resting her feet heavily on his hands. Phil held them tightly, focusing on their soft, smelly texture. He pulled his face out of its buttcleft-home unsuredly.

"But I was thinking maybe I don't have to just worship your ass and your feet mom. Maybe I could go out and do my own thing from time to time - see movies, maybe find work or meet new people. I - I promise I wouldn't cheat on your ass or anything. I just want some friends ..."

"But your head is so good for this!" She said, and sat Mrs. Metzger back onto her son's face, watching it slowly consume it. "See? Not a shred of your head left to the outside world! And look how perfectly your face fits into her butt-crack, Romeo and Juliet could not have fitted better together! Your face fits into the cleft of her ass like poetry! I have never been so moved! Truly, it is destiny that your mother's ass and your face belong together!"

"Ooh!" Mrs. Metzger sat back heavily on her son, smothering him out. "Oh, now there's poetry for you! Nami dear, let's get this contract settled tomorrow, I think we're both agreed it's a good idea."

Madame Harukawa rose happily from her seat and extended her hand. "Congratulations! Soon, the whole world will know that your son's face and your ass are meant to be! Millions will watch the perfect union of son's face and maternal ass!"

At the end of the day, President Metzger sauntered over to her main window, tired but happy, and pulled down her oaken shades once more. The mood lighting instantly activated and the room was bathed in a warming pale glow. Her attache case appeared in her hand as she shut her laptop down and locked her fancy office door. The walk to her car seemed shorter today - tomorrow was full of prospects; a brand new tv deal, greater exposure for the company and some personal face time for her and her son. She clicked the car door open from twenty feet and when she'd finally shut it behind her she was free to quietly pull her son from her butt-crack and drop him on the driver's seat. Pulling down her Armani pants and panties she pulled her left buttock open with one hand and started explosively farting on her little son. Exultant to finally get to release the gas she'd pent up in her bowels all day Debra didn't even take the time to sit on her little boy but kept her asshole a quarter inch from his face as she blew kiss after smelly kiss onto him. Though she wasn't physically touching him she smiled to see Phil twist and spasm as if in pain from her farts. She pinned his arms and legs with her buttocks and pressed her anus against his face. After five minutes of the smell, he began gibbering madly. Smelling nothing but his own mother's methane for a whole day straight had obviously had an impact on the little boy and he was now seeing asses everywhere. His mom decided to give him a real one as she plopped her ass back down on top of him and started the long journey home.

When Phil awoke he was in the massage chair on his own. He was in their rec room on the large full-massage leather, and he felt quite recovered from his bad trip earlier. He would have to thank his mom for being so nice as to give him such luxurious time to recover and, he sniffed, cleaning and bathing him. His mom appeared then, dressed in her light pink bathrobe, her hair soaking wet and wrapped in a towel, a pitcher of mojito in each hand. Turning around, she put each drink down on either side of the massage chair and casually flipped up the seat of her robes, exposing her gargantuan, round buttocks. She didn't even need to crook a finger before Phil had bounced over and jumped into the crack of her ass. Plopping down into the chair where just seconds ago her son was, Debra, spread out and began talking to him as he lay locked in her ass, the vibrations of his body helping the massage chair reach places it normally couldn't. "Big news today sweetie. We put a massive deal through with a television company, it's going to mean a lot more business and exposure for the company. Big time rewards for both of us! We're going to be on TV together, doing what we do best: me sitting on your face as you kiss my ass! You'll have another important job; the most important thing in the world for you until that show is your nose staying up my ass all the time and sniffing as much as you can! Not that it isn't normal." She giggled. "I'm treating myself to a nice, relaxing evening in front of the big screen." She cooed, pulling a lemony drink to her lips and flicking on the enormous flat screen tv remote. Jocasta Productions had sent one of their creations, Oedipus of the East, over free of charge, and she intended to get a look at it. It turned out to be an erotic east-Asian retelling of the Oedipus myth, where a full-bodied, amazonian bbw Jocasta had dominated her scrawny child-prince until he was forced away from the royal castle. Years later when they were married they rediscovered their maternal relationship by how familiar the new king's face felt in between his mother's enormous buttocks. Debra quite liked it - both the affirmative, dominating role of the mother in the story and the new ending where rather than putting out his eyes Oedipus's face is sealed into his mother's ass by the goddess Aphrodite, who found the whole situation very amusing and blessed the happy, son-smothering queen's reign for many years.

"And my reward?" Phil queried through a mouthful of maternal butt.

"You're getting it." She smirked.

She kept him there for the rest of the evening until the vibrations from the chair eventually forced his whole head up into her anus at a particularly romantic point of the movie and almost made her pass out in pleasure.

By the time Phil had recovered from this onslaught, he'd been fully grown again, and found his mother waiting in front of him, facing away. Told it was time for bed, Phil dutifully pressed his face into his mother's bottom and followed her to their master bedroom, where she would attach a leather thong around her hips and his face, wedging it in there tightly. Her onion booty closed around his head again, a mother trapping her son's face in her ass once again. A clap of her hands and all the lights of the room faded as the skylight opened, showcasing a beautiful starry night. No moon though, Debra thought. Well, except for Phil of course. He's got two of them right in his face.

#giantess #g/t #g/t writing #butt crush

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