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muiromem · 2 months

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Just... repeatedly rotating An Idea around in my head

(and yes it's still Tom/Harry/B'Elanna OT3 because I'm obsessed with them, but I also love Janeway's and Tom's weird friendship)

Basically, something Big and Insane and Sci-Fi happens, and somehow all of the known universe in time/space is just sort of.... gone. Or dying, or being destroyed. Stars are going out, everything is vanishing out of existence. Planets, galaxies, creatures and anomalies and time/space itself - all completely gone.

Of course, Voyager is in the eye of the storm (so to speak) of this catastrophe that happened around them, and therefore one of the few things that remains for now (much like Kirk and the crew still existed after McCoy accidentally changed the timeline in "The City on the Edge of Forever"). Obviously, they're trying to stop it - to fix whatever this catastrophe was that could unmake all of existence.

With the wonders of Science-Fiction, there is a theoretical way to fix things; a jump-start essentially, to reset everything to what it was before this catastrophe and repair the wound it created. But even with this theoretical plan, there's something missing: a blueprint, of sorts. If they set off this insane spatial-temporal reaction, everything would be reset, but there's no telling what state the universe would actually be in after it was done. It would be like setting off a Genesis device on a war-destroyed Earth and hoping it would magically return everything and everyone to how they once were. There was nothing to guide this theoretical process of rebirth - and literally everything was at stake.

Even the great minds of Tuvok, Seven, B'Elanna and everyone else are at a loss for what to do. Unless they had someone like Q, omnipotent as he was, how could they feed something into this reaction of theirs to tell it what to do? How could they ever have enough information to rebuild all of existence from scratch?

It's Tom, of all people, who comes up with the answer: let him go.

At first everyone just sort of looks at him like he's insane because, what? What could he possibly be talking about? But even though he can't really remember, Tom still has a theory: the Warp 10 flight.

For a brief time, he was literally everywhere in time and space, all at once. Existing throughout all of existence simultaneously. Could his body, his unconscious mind, have somehow remembered that time? Could it have imprinted something onto him? Perhaps his very cells? He figures if there was a chance, even a small one, that his theory was correct - they had to take it. Because if he was right, then technically he was a living, breathing blue-print of all the known and unknown universe... and their only chance at saving everything.

That's when the riot starts, a great uproar of arguments. Facts and theoretical probabilities from Seven and Tuvok, horror and concern from Harry, even more from B'Elanna and the Doctor. They're startled, angry, because even if that were true the process would almost certainly kill him. And then there's Janeway, putting a stop to all the noise with a hand and saying that if there was a chance this theory would work, if the Doctor or someone could find even a speck of evidence to support it, then she would do it. Because even if everyone else forgot, she'd passed the transwarp threshold too.

Tom tries to argue, Chakotay and the Doctor too, but Janeway insists. She sends Tom to be looked over by everyone for proof of his concept, but says that if the time comes, she'll be the one to do it. As Captain, it's her job to keep everyone safe, no matter what. No one can argue, but no one is happy. Even this one chance at survival feels like it will come at too great a cost.

Time passes, with everyone rushing to do what they can before Voyager is also consumed by the nothingness. But eventually the verdict comes - Tom's idea has merit. His very atoms are somehow encoded with cross-temporal chronotrons and other signs that the theory may work. Once he knows what to look for, the Doctor scans Janeway and sees that she has these markers too, though hers are... fainter, for lack of a better term. She theorizes that it's because she only went through the Warp 10 process once, while Tom did it twice. The Doctor admits that there is a possibility Tom's the better candidate for this mission, only because he has a stronger "imprint" so to speak. Janeway still insists, refusing to send one of her officers to die in her place.

When everyone finally gets this complex and theoretical "reset" device figured out and constructed in one of the cargo bays, Tom begs to come with Janeway. He says that after everything she's done for him, he wants to see her off one last time. She relents, and once B'Elanna has started the reaction up from the safety of Engineering, shining beyond the doors like an imploding star, the two make their way there.

The entire deck has been cordoned off to keep chroniton and other radiations from killing the crew before they can set this whole thing in motion. It's just the two of them there. Tom takes a moment - as the doors open and they're both hit with a wave of heat, energy, and the unknown - and he thanks Janeway properly. For giving him a second chance, for believing in him, and for everything that followed after; like meeting Harry and B'Elanna, and finding a home aboard Voyager. Then he says "get them home" and before Janeway can realize what's happening, briefly thrown by his intense sincerity, he's shoving her aside - hitting the mechanism to shut the cargo bay doors. Inside, Tom grabs some tool and smashes the console so the door won't open without a manual override. That would probably buy him enough time.

Inside the cargo bay, it's like being trapped with the birth of a star; plasma, light, and colors all swirling in strings and shapes and a great sphere of something. There's no special switch for Tom to flip, no complicated sequence he has to follow. The best Voyager's brightest minds could figure out was for him to simply... walk into the singularity and hope for the best. He thinks of his family on Voyager, he thinks of his father and so many things unsaid, he thinks of B'Elanna and Harry and hopes that they'll still take care of each other when he's gone. And to keep them safe, to preserve everything that ever was or ever would be.... he walks into the fires of rebirth.

Outside the cargo bay, Janeway is screaming - trying to get in, to override the doors. She gets them open, only in time to see a tall silhouette disappearing - almost disassembled before her eyes, like dust being scattered away on the wind. Then there's just light - so bright it feels like it somehow pierces through her skin and bones and the very atoms of her being. Then.......

She wakes up. There's no telling how long it's been; all Janeway knows is that she's on the cargo bay floor, ears still faintly ringing, and Chakotay is gently helping her sit up. All around her it's... quiet. The cargo bay looks untouched - no crumpled bulkheads, no scorch marks, nothing. Even the vast, cobbled together machinery for the reset is simple gone. Once her head finally clears, Chakotay asks if she's alright, if her plan worked - but Harry's comm. from the bridge interrupts the question. Excitedly, Harry announces with great relief that the nothingness, the catastrophe, seems to be gone. His scans, Voyager's databanks - everything seems to be showing up normal. As far as they can tell, the universe was back to how it should be.

Back, except for one thing: Tom Paris.

As far as Janeway can see, Tom isn't in the cargo bay. She asks the computer to locate him; the reply is that Lieutenant Paris is no longer aboard. This is announced just as B'Elanna is running in through the cargo bay door, no doubt to see the result of all her hard work. She comes to a halt, looking at Janeway - staring because she wasn't supposed to be here, she was supposed to... After only a fraction of a moment, the computer's announcement finally registers and suddenly B'Elanna is running at Janeway with fists flying, screaming about how could she let him do this? Where is he, dammit, where the hell is Tom?!

She gets a few good hits to Janeway's chest and shoulders before Chakotay holds her back, and Janeway just lets her do it. Because this is her fault - she should have known Tom would try to pull that stunt with the doors, should never have let him come to see her off. She barely registers that B'Elanna's fury soon devolves into angry, choked back tears which Chakotay tries to soothe. When Harry arrives soon after and sees her expression, probably sees Janeway's too, it's all too easy for him to put two and two together. He and B'Elanna end up clinging to each other in their grief. Though Chakotay comes to Janeway to try and comfort her too, to reassure her that she's not responsible, all she can do is look at the cargo bay and see the silhouette where Tom last was - lost now to the ether of the universe.

The next few days are... hard. Harry might as well have aged a decade, and instead of the righteous fury that Janeway had expected, B'Elanna's just gone quiet. When Janeway stops by Sickbay, even the Doctor has become subdued, staring wistfully into the distance at nothing when he'd normally be working on some experiment or other. She still asks him, and Seven, and anyone who might be of use, if there was anything that could be done. But as far as anyone can tell, Tom Paris is gone - he'd sacrificed himself to save everyone else.

But Janeway feels like something is still wrong, like Tom's ghost is... haunting her somehow. It's a figure of speech when she admits it to a concerned Chakotay, but one night, she startles awake from a dreamless sleep, and there he is - standing in her quarters. Tom looks confused, exhausted, and he's... well she can see right through him. He looks at her, seemingly just as startled as she is, and she swears she hears him whisper "Captain?" But then suddenly he's convulsing, curling in on himself with a cry of pain and Janeway is horrified as she watches him.... unmade. It's like he's nowhere and everywhere, born and dying, unraveled but stitched together all at the same time until he's once again vanished into nothingness.

Janeway's heart is racing and she doesn't understand what she just witnessed. A dream? Hallucination? Some alien interference? She goes to the Doctor at 0400 and demands he scan her for a virus, temporal misalignment, anything. She's terrified that this was nothing more than the aftermath of radiation from being so near their "universal reset" as it went off. But there's also a tiny sliver of the smallest, most fragile hope, that this is something else - that there's a chance Tom isn't really.

The Doctor does find something, a strange resonance of sorts, connected - or perhaps coming from - Janeway. He theorizes that it's an effect of being so close to the singularity during the reset. As far as he can tell, she's not suffering from radiation damage, but believes that her guilt over Tom must have caused the hallucination. He offers to devise a treatment, and Janeway begrudgingly agrees. For him to say that what she'd seen was a hallucination though... it felt wrong somehow.

For the next few days, she hardly sleeps, too busy pouring over anything she can find - old Federation logs, complex theories, and all the research and schematics for the device they'd created. All in the slim hope to understand what had actually happened to Tom. Was he simply dead? He couldn't have been wiped from existence or surely, no one would have even known he'd existed. But had he been scattered throughout existence itself, a fundamental building block of the universe now? Seven helps her eventually, though it takes a good deal of persuasion. Chakotay and even Tuvok (though he'd never admit it) become increasingly concerned that she's grasping at straws, just trying to absolve herself of the guilt she feels because Tom took her place - but she knows it's more than that.

And eventually, she's proven right. The so-called hallucination happens again - but this time she's not the only one there. Seven and the Doctor were working with her on some experimental simulations on the holodeck when there's suddenly a terrible noise; something between electro-static and the wails of a dying creature. The holo-grid starts sparking, a console blowing out completely, until suddenly they all watch Tom Paris form out of nothingness before them. Whatever process was involved in his... reassembly, is obviously painful. Just watching the strange tangle of unidentifiable mass contort itself until it could become Tom was sickening. And when he finally takes form, still only semi-opaque, he collapses to his knees, shaking.

Janeway runs to him immediately, unsure what to do but calling his name. Here's there, he's there - it wasn't just in her head. The Doctor and Seven follow shortly, taking tricorder scans in shocked fascination. They ask questions, trying to understand what happened, but Tom doesn't know any more than they do. He says it's like he's everywhere but nowhere - and yet something keeps pulling him back into reality, back onto Voyager. He thought he would die, had come to terms with it, and yet he's still coming back. Even if he'd been completely tangible he looks awful, like he's dying every minute he's there. Janeway tries to reassure him that they'll find him, that they won't just give up, and that manages to make Tom smile. He says knows she won't give up on him - but as he starts to shift out of phase again, face clenched with pain, he asks her to promise him something. Janeway doesn't want to, knows she won't like what he has to say, but she nods anyways. "If you have to - let me go," is what he pleads. "Don't risk Voyager or anyone else for me. Just promise me that."

Janeway can't even form a reply, doesn't know how to let go, how to admit defeat. She's never given up on a crewman before, how could she possibly now? Out of habit she reaches out to touch Tom's shoulder - and even as he's fritzing, starting to disintegrate before her very eyes, she is surprised to make contact. The sounds of tricorders going haywire are behind her, but all Janeway can focus on is the fact that despite Tom literally unraveling in her hands, for a moment, just one moment, she could feel him. Then he's gone.

Everything is different this time - there was proof now, witnesses. B'Elanna and Harry are no longer withdrawn, instead racing full-steam ahead to do anything they can to help. They ask her about Tom of course, about how he's looking, and whether or not she thinks that they can save him. Janeway doesn't know what to say, how to tell them that Tom's clearly in pain and that she has no idea what even happened, let alone how to fix it....

Unfortunately, she doesn't have to. During some experimentation, Tom reappears again - much more violently this time, just when Harry and B'Elanna are present. The very air around them seems to crackle with energy, the temperature changing from too hot, then too cold, and back again. The atmospheric readings are going haywire and when Tom reappears, somehow less corporeal than before, he crumples to the ground in a heap. Harry is openly crying as they run to him, begging him to open his eyes - but when he and B'Elanna try to touch Tom, somehow their hands go right through.

Janeway is completely flummoxed. She'd touched Tom before, she knows she did. But it seemed he was becoming less and less stable each time he returned to a corporeal form - perhaps that explained the change? As the Doctor and Seven are once again running complex scans, Janeway goes to Tom's side and slowly reaches out a hand. As it lands on his shoulder, as Tom tries to sit up, she does make contact. The tricorders instantly go haywire, and Harry and B'Elanna wonder in despair - Why now? Why her? Why can't they touch him? But all Janeway can think is that this is progress. It must mean something, especially since Tom he seems to regain consciousness as she maintains contact, becoming a bit less transparent - a bit more real. When Tom sees Harry and B'Elanna this time, his eyes begin to water too - and Janeway wonders how tears could form in whatever state of flux Tom has become entwined with. But when she removes her hand to give them some space, to ask Tom if he's alright, he starts to fade once more.

This time Tom tries to reach out, to touch Harry and B'Elanna - but is just as unable to make real contact. Instead he tells them he loves them, begs them to take care of each other, to let him go - and it's painful to watch as he's once again gripped by whatever agony has been tearing him into reality and back. Hoping it might do something, Janeway grabs Tom's hand and this time she makes a promise she's going to keep: to bring him home dammit, no matter how long it takes. Just her hold on him seems to stabilize him a bit, taking the floating sands of his dissolving form and pulling them together for just a moment longer... but then the temperature goes haywire, energy crackles around them and Tom is gone once more. With him goes every sound as even the beeping of tricorder scans finally cease. In the silence, Janeway can barely seem to breathe and knows that Harry and B'Elanna must feel infinitely worse. Even more terrifying, each time Tom appears, he seems to be getting weaker, losing whatever cohesion he's managed to retain. She has no real basis to understand anything that's been happening, but Janeway has the sinking feeling that if they don't do something soon, Tom will be lost to them for good.

But then the Doctor clears his throat and holds up his tricorder, and suddenly hope floods back. "I believe I know what's happening to Mister Paris," he says, with not an ounce of boastfulness for once. Instead, the Doctor is as grim-faced as the rest of them, but holographic eyes no longer seem so empty. "And I think there's a chance we can fix it."

The process is... complex. Even for a mind as scientifically adept as Janeway's. The only important part is that Janeway wasn't just imagining that there was something connecting her to Tom. In reality, it was the other way around. Tom wasn't just being pulled back to Voyager - he was specifically being pulled back to her. It was all down to the the second transwarp flight, which they'd taken together. Crossing the barrier had created a sort of tether between them - a connection point across the vastness of reality. When Tom had entered the singularity to "reset" all of existence, in a manner of speaking his very existence was used to rebuild what had been lost. The price for this was Tom himself - every atom and molecule destroyed like the fuel necessary to keep a fire burning. But Tom and Janeway had gone to Warp 10 once together - existing everywhere in time and space at the same time. Because of that, a part of Tom still existed in Janeway, safe from the "reset" aboard Voyager within the eye of the storm. Janeway had unknowingly become a sort of temporal anchor, pulling Tom back into existence where he belonged.

At the moment though, he was trapped - pulled between reality and the strange purgatory of nonexistence. But with the magic of incredibly complex Science-Fiction and Technobabble, the crew essentially find a way to use Janeway's own Warp 10 resonance as both a magnet and a waypoint - to pull Tom back, and then reintegrate him into their time and space with the help of B'Elanna's ingenuity and a lot of Borg-enhanced technology. Harry describes is as being "like a temporal transporter" and that's already enough to give Janeway a headache, so she doesn't try to ask for details. The main idea boils down to grabbing onto what's left of Tom's "pattern" of existence, which has been imprinted onto Janeway, and using their newly constructed technology to "rematerialize" him back into reality.

Once they've found the method a jurry-rigged some machinery, the Doctor is standing by, both for Tom and for Janeway should anything happen. The others are farther off, manning the various machines while Chakotay and Tuvok have evacuated various decks in case of any explosions. The risks are immense, and this time Janeway had actually assembled the crew - asking them if they thought it was worth it. They'd potentially be putting the ship and everyone onboard it in danger, in a last-ditch attempt to bring one lost crewman home. It had warmed her heart when not a single person balked at the danger; Tom Paris saved them, their homes, their families and futures. Why shouldn't they try to save him too?

When the process happens, Janeway feels a sense of déjà vu; the light, the swirling mass of indecipherable colors and shapes and feelings, all cascading before her. This time she's strapped up with various bits of technology, hoping against hope to become the lighthouse that guide's Tom's way. In the very same cargo bay, bulkheads rattle and crumple this time, machines start screaming their warnings, and Janeway can feel the heat and pain and dizziness as radiation tries to eat away at her. But she can't stop yet, she won't stop. Even as the Doctor is yelling that the radiation levels are reaching critical, even as she hears Harry calling out that there's a new singularity opening and it's becoming completely unstable, Janeway sees it - a silhouette. It's only just forming, scattering in and out like a dance of lightning and sand, but it's there.

This time she won't be thrown through a cargo bay door and left to rebuild in the aftermath. This time she listens to her gut, and runs forward. She'd been the only one able to hold onto to Tom before because of whatever this bio-temporal tether was that had connected them - she sure as hell wasn't going to let him go now.

So she runs and sees an outstretched hand, breaking and reforming and scattering like light through a prism, everywhere and nowhere all at once. She ignores the pain and the feeling like she herself might be consumed by the fires of the unknown.

Kathryn Janeway takes a leap of faith, she grabs that outstretched hand, and for the sake of every person on her ship, she pulls.

Watching from afar, all the others see is a gigantic explosion of light and colors and sound. The cargo bay had been nearly cleared out before this process, but every piece of newly-made machinery has been completely destroyed. Bits and pieces scatter the floor, bulkheads have been wrenched open, sparks are flying, and Harry and B'Elanna find their ears ringing as they choke on smoke. They'd erected a level 10 forcefield for protection before starting the procedure, but in the aftermath it's been completely torn away. Even as the environmental controls kick in and start clearing out the haze, they look up from where they'd been thrown to see a massive scorch mark, spread out like a starburst across the cargo bay deck.

At it's center, they see.... something. Dizzy, confused, and still trying to see through ash and debris, initially they can't make it out. Even the Doctor is nowhere to be found, his emitter lying on the floor. It's fritzing but, after a brief inspection, seems repairable. Whatever happened must have shorted out many different systems, as Harry's attempt to use his combadge goes unanswered. He and B'Elanna make their way instead towards the center of the scorched cargo bay floor and behold... Captain Janeway.

She's covered in ash, with burns on her skin and uniform, and as they watch she kneels to the floor. There's something in her hands and after a moment it becomes clear; she's draping an emergency blanket over a long, familiar form. One with a head of messy, tawny blonde hair.

Harry and B'Elanna are running then, falling to their knees as they reach Janeway's side and behold Tom Paris - naked save for the blanket Janeway has brought to preserve his modesty. He's overly pale and clearly unconscious, but he's there, he's alive.

Harry cradles Tom to his chest, rocking him gently and bawling like a baby. B'Elanna runs her hand over Tom's hair, his face, his bare shoulders - anything she can seem to reach. They don't even know if he's fine really, but at least he's breathing. They didn't blow up the ship and they didn't have to lose him. Janeway looks exhausted and it's obvious her burns are painful, but she just stars at her three crewman, clutching onto each other with such love, and she smiles.

It feels like she sits there for an eternity, just watching them, basking in their reunion and the knowledge that they did it. In reality, it must only be a few minutes before the cargo bay doors are being forced open and Chakotay, Tuvok, and Neelix come through, bringing medical supplies and asking if everyone is alright.

By then, Harry is finally wiping his eyes and asking B'Elanna if she can get the Doctor back online because they're probably going to need him. For once, she looks reluctant to work, clearly wanting to stay there with him and Tom. In the end she agrees, but not before pressing a kiss to Harry's knuckles and Tom's forehead before taking the holo-emitter and leaving.

Afterwards it's all a long process of scanning, repairing, and treating everyone's wounds. Janeway tries to shoo Chakotay away once they bring her to sickbay, far too worried about Tom's condition, but he pulls out the big guns. Chakotay knows that she can't say no to Neelix when he gives her those big concerned eyes and tells her that "the crew needs their Captain to be taken care of too". So she ends up lying on a bio-bed for half an hour while the Talaxian carefully treats her burns and radiation poisoning as best he can. Unsurprisingly, B'Elanna gets the Doctor's program and holo-emitter working in record-breaking time, and they're all relieved when he checks over Tom and the prognosis is good; Tom's exhausted, dehydrated, and a bit worse for wear, but he'll be fully recovered in no time. Whatever madness they'd pulled of had worked.

Eventually, he wakes up, still very weak but every bit the Tom Paris they know and love. When he sees how distressed both Harry and B'Elanna are, he even jokes that they put an awful lot of effort in "just for him". B'Elanna looks like she wants to punch him for it, but instead throws her arms around him in a hug, and the three of them share a teary, heartfelt reunion. When the lovebirds have to split off so everyone can get some rest, and once the Doctor has given her a clean bill of health, Janeway goes over to Tom's biobed to see how he's doing.

He's obviously tired but he smiles up at her. However, the first thing she tells him is that she should court-martial him and throw him in the brig for the stunt he pulled in the cargo bay by taking her place. For a moment, Tom nearly believes her. But then Janeway smiles back and pats his hand with hers and says that he may be a reckless idiot, but she's proud to say he's one of her bravest officers. She also sincerely thanks him for what he did, to which Tom replies that she risked everything to get him back, so that probably that makes them even. Janeway doesn't bother trying to make him promise never to do something that risky again, since she knows he'd only break the promise anyways if the circumstances required it. Instead, she says that if he's going to continue doing insane, reckless stunts for the good of her ship, then she'll just have to keep doing insane reckless things to keep his sorry ass alive. She receives the patented "yes ma'am" for her troubles, and Tom says that after all, he learned from the best.

The last thing she does before telling him to get some rest though, is tease him - threatening that, even if she understands why he did it, if he ever tries that switcheroo he pulled with her again, she'll have to tell the gossip mill about all the places she hadn't realized he has freckles.

Janeway can see by his slowly-dawning expression that Tom does recall something about emerging from the nothingness, naked on the cargo bay floor. The last thing she hears as she walks, grinning, away from Sickbay is a sputtered yell of "You wouldn't actually... Captain? CAPTAIN!" before the automatic doors swish shut.

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scarlet--wiccan · 1 year

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Speaking of Chthon and any possible relation to Billy do you think they're ever going to address that the Demiurge is the father of Chthon. It's a plot hole that bothers me constantly and I know different writers have implied different things; Gillen claimed once that Billy's Demiurge is a different Demiurge from that one and on one hand I get it- IIRC in Gnosticism, the Demiurge is a nigh-omnipotent entity born from only a mother who is ALSO a powerful entity in her own right, with no true father, so I see what he was going for- but also he definitely knew that was already a Marvel character and I feel like if he had actually intended for them to be separate, it wouldn't have been that hard to choose a different name for Billy (especially if he's well versed enough in religion and mysticism to know Gnostic lore in the first place) or make an effort to officially differentiate between the two?

I agree, he should have made a more clear distinction. It's caused a lot of confusion amongst both writers and fans. Even the wiki states that Billy is the same entity as Earth's Demiurge. Users and editors have debated it, but at the end of the day, there's no hard, textual evidence that they aren't, and that falls on the writing in Young Avengers.

If you ask me, everything would have a been a lot easier to understand if Gillen had simply stuck to the Marvel Universe's accepted definition of what a Demiurge is. In Thor Annual #10, from 1982, the Demiurge is described as "the sentient life force of Earth's biosphere," which seeded the planet and gave rise to the its first ethereal beings, the Elder Gods. In this telling, the Demiurge didn't even create the Earth, it's just the embodiment of the planet's native life force. It's not a creator god, so much as an early evolutionary step in the magical ecosystem-- a natural part of the planet's life cycle.

We know that most, if not every life-supporting planet and inhabited dimension has its own Elder Gods, so it would be safe to assume that they each have their own Demiurge entity as well. Based on that premise, it would be easy to say "every world has a Demiurge, and the Demiurge for America's homeworld happens to be a future version of Billy" without escalating to "Billy is the creator of all reality and the source of all magic." It's still a lot of power and responsibility-- more than enough to make him a target for people like Loki and Mother-- but it's nowhere near as overwhelming. You can also orient that in a framework similar to Wanda's Nexus abilities (as I mentioned here), which would actually make his powers more dynamic and give him stuff to work on, as opposed to just telling him that he's gonna grow up to become G-d.

Alternatively, yeah, you could make him into a mortal incarnation of Earth's Demiurge. It would loop everything together nicely with Wanda, Chthon, and the chaos magic of it all. It would be easier for a lot of people to understand, assuming that we return to that clear outline of what the planet's Demiurge does. Tying Billy into an existing mythology would give him more material to work with and make it easier to come up with storylines for him-- plus, bringing it all back to Wundagore might be an opportunity to involve Tommy more, and make the two of them more balanced.

Now that the whole Utopian Parallel thing with America has been done away with, pretty much everything we know from YA about Billy being the Demiurge is up in the air. It's the perfect time to soft-retcon the whole deal and literally bring it down to Earth. You know me, though-- I'm a firm believer that any character with huge, cosmic powers needs to be kept grounded.

#bill kaplan #demiurge #chthon #robintext

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fictionkinfessions · 1 year

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I don't want to come across presumptuous or too rude, but I'm a little unnerved when asks get published that are character hate in DIRECT response to another ask? Like, one got published recently where someone responded to another kinfession with, "you're right, you don't deserve forgiveness," and I just wonder if allowing someone to be so harsh directly to the face of a person they don't even know is a great idea? Idk, I mean, chara hate asks are still about one person, but I feel that they're different. They're rarely like, directly about the full person outside of their kintype, if that makes sense. I don't think I'd be allowed to send an ask complaining about my canonmate while literally @ ing them, and replying to an ask feels similar to me?

It feels a bit harsh, and I worry it might make this blog less of a safe space. I know if someone responded to my vent with "yeah, you SHOULD feel bad," it would be at least like a year before I tried venting here again. I know there's no way I can really say this that isn't me sort of telling you how to run your blog? So, I am sorry about that, but after seeing it a few times, I just wanted to bring up my concerns about it.

That's already against the rules.

fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/rules https://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/tagged/rules%20page https://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/post/190622484599/blog-rules-page

Listen, it's not possible for me to remember every single post. Sometimes ask responses don't have a link back to the post they're replying to. I do not have context for every conversation here. If a ask response seems out of line, I do apologize for posting it because yeah it's pretty irritating to get something like 'NO U, FUDGING MEANER!' as a reply to it. Please bring it up with links and the reasons why. I'm sorry but there is only so much omnipotence I can give this blog, so to speak.

Connie / mod party cat!

#mod response #not confessions #mod party cat!

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terrifickid · 3 months

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Eh,

I think a lot is going on, and we'll have to sort it out difficult as though it may be and be clear about what who's realities are, and competently manage the situation.

The first step was information gathering. The second step was knocking down a few walls and letting it simmer down.

Of course I needed to attain a safe position since it will be a severe long term issue, identity the social locus, gather more intelligence on the nature and structure of that group etc.

So we needed to let it run and get enough symptoms - we know that if they knock it off it's over and if they don't they'll have to continue to save face and we need to get their platform and find the chink in it.

I think the main issue is the dysfunction of the society. That's how narcissists seem to operate in social settings or corporate office. They find the dysfunction in people and exploit that subtley.

Through bribes, benefits, drugs or intimidation.

It's possible they're hurting people, but I don't have any proof.

But it's all pretty correlated to the locality of that weird gang who were the only people who I ever had any problems with.

Well the core communication is 'you'll learn your lesson, get out of marfa'.

So it's definitely about power I think. 'We rule the world'. I don't think that is true. The second notion is, 'because you are a pig' - which is definitely not true.

But it may be it's because I was so outspoken, just about my personal ideas which were non-conformist. So I think it's just about power and tyrants have to look omnipotent so they've got to make an example out of me.

So I thought it would be a great opportunity to trial out and test the efficacy of the idea of like, all-winning soul destiny. If that we're not so, I should get crushed, but in that case I really was just a crazy religious nut. Otherwise, by some miraculous means they'd fail - and thusly the sky fell on the whole world, but spared me.

Pretty cool, and worth the squeeze. So we learned that, and we learned that I did have schizophrenia.

But the key is really just showing up to your relationships, if you can do that honestly, you'll find out who you really want in your life.

Also, they're just broken down people and most of them naturally got run out of town basically. And a lot of them left the cult I think because over time it became clear they were illegitimate.

Well with that obviously out there it's definitely not over. It's fomenting into an all out world war. And people are going to take sides and start fighting which isn't productive but should take the focus off me. I'll be able to travel most of the year making it difficult to keep striking me. Eventually I'll setup surveillance at the dojo and I've cleared out all my stuff. The place was designed as a battlefield so no harm done. With time and age they'll just shrivel and fall off.

I think it's pretty all out and heavily involved with the democratic party. So I think officials are being put in office, cops - but that's happening everywhere.

Ya it is pretty too bad. People are legitimately angry about social power imbalances and corruption and so you can't blame them. That's my take.

On the other hand, it was good to see that because I just didn't know people were really that broken down. And so it'll be important moving forward to keep folk at a far distance.

Ya well that's broadly why I'm like, you need to stop talking to me we broke up like 8 years ago. It's a relationship they can't let go of because they can't deal with their own issues and essentially from that paradigm I'm the enemy and must be destroyed - otherwise they'll melt down - since, as I see it, I represent the idea that the world is a good place and there are clear norms on human boundaries (which were likely violated in their past). So it should be a win-win outcome where everybody heals.

And the weird thing about 'marfa' - was the social class and undealt with that puts everyone in this weird meta-game - it's a perfect environment for narcissists to flourish since it's so surface and addled with addiction.

But break the rules and all of a sudden the ploy can't work since it's all narrative based. That's partly the Kobayashi Maru - and the secret weapon which was the incomprehensible future which pans out concordant to mystery school.

So, pretty interesting exercise.

Well that's the thing, proper administration isn't warfare. It's things being chill - that's the nature of real progress and the qualities of legitimate power.

Ya well meh I give myself the permission to enact these things I guess since I gave my life away so long ago. I'll just have to be the bad guy, unjustified. Since it's all a meta-narative anyway. Might as well get something from the vandalism which would happen either way. This way at least, the more energy put into it the busier they are here and the more I learn about stuff. Otherwise we'd all be hustled and bullied non-stop and it would just have got worse.

Well Colombia is chill now. Escobar must have been one of the greatest criminals of all time. They also captured El chapo. I would normally think cartel strategy would win every time but it just doesn't. So I don't know why that is. So I think Texas will be ok since it's all about funding and without the cantilian effect - the entire slave grid should just become non-viable.

Actually working hard people whom form strong relationships will prosper - and that's definitely Texas.

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superiorllathanvie · 2 years

Text

A Little Out of the Ordinary

— [WHUMPTOBER, DAY 1] {NONCANON}

‎

• characters :: raf, shade, toni

• genre :: whump, angst

• warnings :: profanity, depictions of violence, needles, implication of experimentation, death

‎

synopsis / prompt(s) :: adverse effects, “this wasn't supposed to happen”

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a/n :: i am going to have so much fun putting my beloved ocs into horrifying traumatic absolutely fucked up situations for a whole month

only for this to not be canon so dw they're all safe 😙 for now. anyway, enjoy :D

‎

"Are you sure this is a good idea..?" Raf hesitantly inquired, watching Toni flick a syringe filled with shiny black liquid.

From a different part of the room, Shade murmured. "You're a Linia, kid; that itself would be enough to break the very fabric of the Superi's reality, but quite frankly, you're useless as you currently are." The brunette huffed under her mask as a pitch-black serpent coiled itself around her arm. It seemed to look Raf dead in the eyes.

"What's in the syringe?" The former questioned, feeling as if they should have asked much sooner.

Toni hummed, retreating to a small area to adjust the amount of substance in the instrument. "It's a diluted form of liquid Supter," She explained, "Simply put, it's venom from Shade's snake — it also runs in her blood, but the 'venom' is as pure as I could have gotten it in these circumstances."

Raf's hands curled into fists as they tried to stay still in their seat, doing their best to stay calm. What on Syto was happening? They barely understood a single word from these.. strangers! It hadn't even been that long since Raf first opened their eyes, and now they were dealing with.. this?

Their situation was far from ideal, nor were they in a position to make demands — Shade scared them and they did not want to cross her — but they figured that they should at least have an idea of what they were getting themselves into, right?

"What's.. Sup-ter?" The 'Linia' timidly asked.

"The one thing lethal to the Superi," Shade replied swiftly, "As for who the Superi are... Well, they're a bunch'a incompetent fucks that most people on this planet call gods."

Intimidated, yet curious, Raf worded aloud exactly what they couldn't fathom to possibly be true. Sure, they may have been born about three hours ago and knew nothing of the omnipotent 'Superi,' but...

"You're..." They muttered, trying to straighten out their thoughts. "...trying to kill the gods."

A moment of tense silence passed, faint hissing from Shade's snake being the noise that broke it.

"Yeah. Pretty much." Shade deadpanned, walking towards the helpless freshborn who cowered with every step she took. She stopped right beside the chair in which Raf rested, then crossed her arms without saying another word.

Raf looked up at the masked woman and uttered, "...But why?"

"That's not your concern," Raf had failed to notice the syringe being handed to Shade, the shock rendering them unable to react as she stabbed it right through their hand, before pressing down on the plunger. The Linia shot up, startled, letting out a yelp while Toni held them down by the arms. "It is mine, though."

After the syringe barrel had been emptied, Shade and Toni stepped back from Raf who gripped their injected hand with their free one. Shade nonchalantly tossed the tool to the side.

"What— What did you do to me..?!" Raf slurred, breathing heavily.

Shade rolled her eyes as her snake slithered up to drape itself around her shoulders. "Oh, please," She scoffed, "You're making this shit a lot harder on yourself than it needs to be. Panicking isn't gonna do you any favors, dumbass."

Still feeling disoriented, Raf could only feel themselves get pulled to their feet and dragged along some corridors, before getting shoved into a room that echoed with other people's voices. Everything they heard was in fearful whispers, hushed warnings, and muffled noise of Shade shutting a door.

Not long after that, everything went black.

‎

Toni mumbled, "Do you think.. maybe.. we should've tried it first on someone other than the person it needs to work on?" She asked, picking up her pace to catch up to Shade.

The brunette sighed, exasperated as if the answer was obvious. "It's the same shit I got bitten with when I was twelve, they'll be fine," She insisted, "Besides, one; you weakened the effect, and two; the parasite that comes along with Fang's venom is already in me. The Linia won't have an 'awakening' as rude as mine because— Oh, right, they won't even have one."

"Alright, alright, jeez. No need to get all worked up about it..." Toni grumbled.

An alarm went off. An alarm that they likely should have gotten worked up about.

"Shit."

"Boss! Boss!" A shaky voice called out, accompanied by frantic steps speeding towards their direction. Shade barely turned her body to face her subordinate, only raising an eyebrow to urge them to continue. "It got out."

Her eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, 'it got out'?" She questioned slowly, seething, while Toni froze in place.

"I mean— it— it's—"

Not waiting for them to finish, Shade quickly shoved past the poor, shaken thing and began making her way back to the chamber she left the Linia in. Tch, how could this have been possible? It hadn't even been two hours since they left the draft alone, and now they were apparently.. what, going on a homicidal rampage—?

Oh, dear.

That was a lot of nostalgia Shade was getting hit with, there.

(Also a lot of blood and corpses along with the dastardly rotting smell that she's gotten used to, but mostly nostalgia)

Shade hummed to herself as she navigated through the ruin. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave the Linia with their prisoners. Her initial plan was to have them learn how to control their new Supter abilities through self-defense — no better way of learning than by experience — but it seemed to have.. gotten out of hand.

She casually hopped over the carnage, indifferent to the approximately twenty deaths decorating the hallway. No one here was someone she valued, so why should she care?

Ah. There they were.

A pitch-black figure with a painted smile and glowing white eye sockets, directly facing her.

A full Supter form.

Shade glared at it. The injected substance was diluted by Toni, and Toni never miscalculates her measurements. The venom should have been significantly watered down — so why the fuck did it look like a purebred? Why did it look like hers?

"Hayyyyy," Shade sighed, rubbing her temples as her shadow steadily turned solid, the darkness spreading to her feet and continuing upwards. It coated her entire body from head to toe; toe to head. "Stealing my trademark, eh, kid?"

The demon-like creature only snarled in response. It may have looked similar to Shade's, but it was more feral in nature.

Good. Can't have another intelligent one of these things running about.

"Sorry about what's gonna go down in a while," Shade stretched, "When you wake up, don't bother feeling guilty, 'kay? This is all on me.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

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absolutely obsessed with the idea of an all powerful god-like creature keeping their darling in little a pocket dimension. ur taken care of, u have everything u could possibly want, but the place is maybe just a little too perfect and homey and no matter how far u run into the surrounding forest u always end up back at the the quaint little cottage

tw - imprisonment, altered reality, manipulation, slight dehumanization, generalized eldritch-fucking.

It'd be fun if the mysterious, eldritch, omnipotent creature keeping you locked away from the world you belong to never thought to actually sit down and explain the kind of situation you're in, either, the kind of dimension they pulled and shaped into something resembling a proper home. Why would they? Humans are so simple, so quaint, made so happy by pretty things and pleasing sensations, easy to keep content with soft beds and good food and a shelter that keeps you at a comfortable distance from the climate and conditions you haven't yet learned to overcome. They can provide all of that for you, craft a world where you'll never know hunger, where you'll always have somewhere warm and safe to hide yourself away, where there's just enough hardship to keep you occupied while they're away, tending to things you couldn't possibly understand. You have everything you need to keep you happy, to keep you healthy. They're willing to give you everything you could ever want, and in return, all they ask is that you stay put and try to enjoy it.

And you're such a sweet little thing, too confused and too timid to ask any questions when you wake up in your new bed, to do anything but cuddle into their chest and let them hold you for another few minutes, another few hours, until they've had their fill. Even when you find your voice, you speak quietly, never yelling or cursing them out as you ask where you are, who they are, when you'll be allowed to go home. They do their best to answer you, to hold you on their lap even as you squirm and shift, to be patient, and gentle, and everything they have to be while attempting to calm the emotions of a being so prone to extremes. Like any good caretaker, they nurse you through your shock, your stupor, letting you poke and prod at your new surroundings, shy away from their touch, steal and hide anything you might be able to use as a weapon, as if anything in this realm could possibly escape their notice, as if anything in this realm could possibly hurt them. You're skittish, unsure, but they try to be gentle with you, regardless. It's only a matter of time until you realize that you're safe, here. That you don't have anything to worry about.

They let you slip away, when you gather up the confidence to tear yourself out of their arms, scramble through the unlocked door, and escape into the forest they've used to decorate your little world. They let you run until you realize that no one's following you, until you realize that there's nothing but the forest, no running water, no singing birds, no cars or voices or footsteps, other than your own, of course. You don't turn back, of course, don't call out for them, but you don't have to, not when they were so careful, not when every direction only leads back to your home, to your cottage, to them. You can spend as much time as you want plotting out the land, looking for something else, and you should, it's better that you get it out of your system now than try to contain your curiosity and suffer for it, later on. It's only a matter of time until you get tired, until you get cold, until you come home and let them show how generous they can be, how loving they can be. It's only a matter of time until your nature gets the better of you and you retreat to what you recognize, to what makes sense.

It's only a matter of time until you realize that, to put it bluntly, you really don't have any other choice.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

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duxhess-kryzewan · 4 years

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Maybe they're running away from the police and to distract them Satine just pushes Obi-Wan into the next wall and makes out with him. It works, the police just walks by, but the both of them have a hard time breaking apart and Obi-Wan is really emotionally confused. The ride to their hotel is just really awkward at first, but as soon as they're in their room they just continue.

He was no stranger to being on the run with her. In fact, it had consumed most of their lives for the better part of a year back in their youth. But then it was all in attempt to protect her. He supposes he's doing them same now, but it had been from bounty hunters before, not the people who were supposed to be part of the good guys.

She takes a sharp turn down an alley, and he prays it provides just enough cover of darkness that they can escape, but he only finds a dead end instead. They were doomed if they didn't get out of there fast.

"This isn't good." He says to her, frantically looking around for some form of escape.

The stomping off feet on concrete grows closer, and by the growing fear on Satine's face he knows she hears them approaching too and the daunting truth is becoming more and more of a possibility; if they're caught, the Republic would imprison her.

A shout echo's through the alleyway and he's certain that this is the end, that he's failed to get her to safety.

"Do you trust me?"

He blinks, "What?"

"Do. You. Trust. Me."

He wonders why she would ever have to ask such a thing. She should know without a doubt that he trusts her. But questioning her would have to wait for another time.

"Of course."

He's not sure exactly what he had been expecting from her, but being pushed against the cold wall of the surrounding building and kissed by her was no where close to what he anticipated.

Not that he would ever admit it aloud, but the sensation of her kissing him after all of these years overwhelmed every nerve ending in his body to the point that he almost forget that they were being hunted.

"Don't move." She whispers to him, as if he had any intention of doing so.

It's a good plan, he rationalizes. Smart. Clever. Pressed that close together with their cloaked faces made it impossible to tell who they were. For all the people chasing them knew, they were simply a young couple getting intimidate in a back alley.

His hands tug gently at her waist and he pulls her just a bit closer than she actually was and it dawns on him how long it truly had been since he had held her. Its only to distract them. He told himself. It doesn't mean anything. Rationalizing had always been one of his strong suits. He feels them approach, lurking slowly past the alleys entrance and for a moment he truly thinks that her plan didn't work, and that they had seen right through them.

But then he senses them retreating down the street. Still, he makes no move to break the kiss yet -- for their safety, of course -- until he was beyond sure that they had fled. Or just a bit longer.

To be thorough, he assured himself.

Cupping her face in his hands just to kiss her more soundly was also part of being thorough. Keeping up an act was important when you were trying to sell a cover

It's what he was telling himself at least; and if it was a little more personally motivated he decided he didn't want to think about that too hard. Even if he wanted too, the sensation of her pressed against him was enough to render his cognitive thinking a complete mess. She's the one who pulls away from him though, saving him the responsibility of breaking their connection. He lets out a mental sigh of relief and thanks whatever omnipotent being is overlooking them; he truly didn't know if he had the strength to stop kissing her. "We need to go." She whispers. There's a look in her eyes that he can't quite decipher. Confusion, perhaps? He understood the feeling too well.

They stay in the cover of darkness, weaving in and out between buildings and people that littered the streets of the city. If they could just make it to Padme and deliver the card with the true recording then they would be in the clear.

"We have to go to the Senate building," he tells her, "Padme will be able to get the information to the chancellor then."

She nods, "Then we need to move."

He grabs her arm before she can get more than a step away from him and turns her to face him, "They'll arrest you."

"I know," she says solemnly, "But it'll buy you enough time to get to Padme."

He doesn't like the plan. The idea of her getting arrested shook him to the core, but he knows it's the only way to truly get her name cleared.

"I don't like this."

"Me either, but it's the only thing we can do."

He sighs, "I know."

_________________________

The commotion had been too much in such a short amount of time that he really hadn't gotten to see her between the time they had arrested her - a sight that made him a bit sick to his stomach - and when she had been released from custody on order of the Chancellor. The galactic senate had been in session with her since the full recording of Almec had been revealed.

"Waiting for your girlfriend?" Anakin had asked.

"They've been in session for- she's not my girlfriend, Anakin!"

Anakin rolls his eyes, "Whatever you say, I just don't know many people you would risk your loyalty with the Republic for. Harboring a fugitive is a rather serious risk."

Obi-Wan glares, "And so is continuing a secret affair with a senator."

Anakin left rather quickly after the comment.

Lucky for him, only moments later session had ended. Senators had filed out in groups, the last of which contained Satine and Padme, who were chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"Duchess." He greets before looking at Padme, "As always Padme, your willingness to help is invaluable."

Padme nods politely, "Of course, I'm overjoyed that I could help Satine reveal the truth." Padme turns to look at her friend, "Would you like me to summon the Senate guards to accompany you back to your suite?"

Satine shook her head, "That's quite alright, I was actually hoping that perhaps

Master Kenobi would escort me," she glances over to him, "Given the events that have unfolded since my arrival we haven't had much of a chance to catch up, and I leave just after sunrise tomorrow."

Padme looks from Satine to him, and he clearly see the amused look in her eye.

God help him, she was just as bad as Anakin.

"Whatever he Duchess deems best." He replies, trying his best to remain professional despite the look that Padme was giving him.

After the two women exchanges goodbyes, and some questionable whispers between them, they walked silently down the vacant hallways and it's only when the elevator comes into sight that he realizes he's going to be confined in a closed space with her, and suddenly all he can think about was their kiss in the alleyway. Truthfully, he really hadn't thought of much else aside from clearing her name and now that she was no longer a fugitive the kiss occupied every spare thought.

He looks at her as the doors slide close, wondering just how much she was thinking about what happened. Was it just a cover to her? It certainly didn't feel like it. But then, women weren't really his strong suit. Or emotions, for that matter.

In truth, he was more confused than anything. He had always known that she was important to him, but their alleyway make out (there was really no other way he could describe the interaction) had stirred up long buried feelings. Hadn't he gotten over her by now?

Clearly not.

When the doors open, he gently places his hand along the small of her back and guides her down the hall towards her door. His skin burns pleasantly from the touch and he swears he's sees the slightest hint of a blush tinge her cheeks.

"Shouldn't your guards be stationed at your door?" He notes as they approach the suite.

"I dismissed them." She says with a shrug.

An eyebrow quirks up, "Doesn't sound very safe for a person of your nobility. Who know what dangers are-"

She cuts him off, "-lurking around the Senate Building?

He glares at her. She did raise a good point, the building was as safe as any, but he still didn't like the idea of her not having her guards around. Satine was no stranger to attempts on her life.

They stop when they reach her door, his hand still on her back and its dawns on him that it's all around possible that this is the last time they'll see each other. Such is the lives they have chosen to live.

"You are an invaluable asset to me, Obi-Wan." She says, placing a hand gently on his forearm, "Always my Jedi Knight to the rescue."

He smiles at her, "Of course, my dear."

The tension between them only becomes more palpable when the pet name slips out and he wonders if she's having the same struggle too. The idea that it didn't mean anything to her was almost more unbearable that if it did.

"Satine," he says softly, "About earlier-"

Her lips pressing against his cuts him off and he wastes not time gripping her at the hips and pulling her too him.

He's not totally sure who opened the door, but he knows he's the one who kicked it shut behind her. This time, there was no one after them. Gone were the cloaks and fear of being arrested and instead came a reignited longing for one another and force how was he ever going to stop kissing her?

When the morning light fills the room he finds Satine curled up into his side, her head burrowed against his shoulder and arm wrapped around his waist. He trails a up and down the bare skin of her back until her eyes flutter open.

She kisses him again and he knows that yes, it meant something to her too.

#obi wan x satine #obitine #obitine fanfic #obitine fanfiction #obitine prompt #obitine fluff

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