(no subject)
Title: The Glass Man
Fic Rating: NC-17
Bit Rating: PG
Summary: Spaceships and robots and secks, oh my!
Warning: AU BAD!FIC. Utter ridiculous crack. Bad accents, Mary Stues, Gary Stues, odd names, bad geography, no humor, gaping plot-holes, blatant plot devices, unbelievable events, tedious backstory, and eventual secks for weird reasons. Feel free to abuse in comments.
The Manual
Bertie woke the next morning at the ungodly hour of eight to the sound of a crash. He immediately looked to Jeeves, thinking for one horrified moment that his body had fallen from the chair and shattered upon the carpet. He was pleased to see that the crash had merely been caused by a section of the wall falling a few inches from his head.
‘I apologise for waking you,’ Andrew murmured in a quiet, tired voice. ‘I have completed the instructions for the first stage of Jeeves’ repair.’
Bertie gave the sheet of metal a closer look. It was as thin as paper and as wide as a map. It was also covered on both sides with closely-written lists and diagrams. Bertie ran an idle finger down the sheet, and was shocked to see the words move beneath his fingertip, changing with dizzying speed as the diagrams spun madly in their boxes.
‘Oh, I say!’ he said, lowering himself back onto his sleeping bag. ‘How extraordinary!’ He stretched himself out on the lightly cushioned surface and began to play with the sheet, searching for a method to the clutter of words and images that would allow him to follow the impossibly complex instructions. Occasionally he would reach into his bag for a biscuit, an apple, or his water flask. Once or twice he got up and left the cabin for a few moments, limping from the hard floor. It was well after midnight when his head flopped into his arms, words and images dancing madly under his spread fingers.
Andrew’s cabin was preternaturally silent at night. There was not a single creak or rustle to be heard. It was also cold, and Bertie shivered in his sleep, causing the instruction sheet to flash in distress. At the coldest hour of the night metallic arm detached itself from where it had been resting discreetly in a corner, and slid across the ceiling as if operated by a magnet. A section of the wall slid aside as the arm approached, revealing a column of shelves covered in various objects (mainly books). The claws at the end of the arm clamped themselves upon a corner of what looked like a particularly thick duvet. Jeeves had purchased the item in Japan, where humans apparently used it to keep their limbs from growing stiff at night-or most of their limbs. Apparently there were some that went stiff anyway. The item also kept humans from shivering with cold, though apparently they shivered for other reasons, too. It had been a difficult explanation to follow. Jeeves’ accounts of human behaviours were always difficult to follow, although they seemed ultimately to be about mating.
Andrew dropped the futon over Bertie, nearly suffocating him. Bertie struggled out from under it, kneaded it more or less flat without so much as cracking open an eye, and curled himself up on it. He continued to shiver, however, his sleeping bag having remained under the futon.
The Instrument
It was several days before Bertie felt he had a more or less decent grasp of the instruction sheet. The trouble was that the beginning instructions were so grotesque Bertie could not contemplate carrying them out.
‘But it’s his skin, old chap! Woosters don’t go about flaying people alive. It’s just not done.’
‘He is in no position to feel it. He is not alive.’ Andrew pointed out calmly. ‘You may leave his face intact, if you wish.’
‘But-’
‘It is not a living membrane. It is merely a guise to hide the mechanisms beneath and to give his body a semblance of human shape.’
‘Well, so is human skin, old chap! I wouldn’t want to know what we look like without it, and I don’t want to know how Jeeves looks without it, either.’ Bertie stood staring down at the table with his arms resolutely folded. The clutter had been cleared away, and Jeeves lay upon it with a cruel-looking device beside him. Bertie had stripped him of his clothes and, to Andrew’s puzzlement, covered him in a blanket.
‘You need only remove the membrane on his back for now.’
‘Can’t I repair him from this hole that’s already here?’ He asked, pointing.
‘I am afraid not.’
‘But-’
‘Mr Wooster, if you will not clear away the membrane, you will be unable to repair Jeeves. You may as well leave now.’
Bertie blinked, and stared longingly at the door. ‘I think I will... go into town for a bit... get a few supplies... A dip in the river wouldn’t come amiss... Yes, I think I will.’ He gathered a few things from his bag and strode out the door. Andrew did not expect to see him again.
He was surprised when Bertie returned not half-an-hour later, still wet from his bath in the river.
‘I’m going into town.’ Bertie said firmly. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’
Andrew did not at all believe the Human, having heard from Jeeves the many lies Humans told to make themselves feel better about their actions. It spent the night humming at Jeeves, out of habit, as if Jeeves was still alive.
It was very surprised-and pleasantly so, it had to admit-when the Human returned the next day as promised. He had brought with him a far younger Human, whom he instructed to dig a deep hole a little ways from the cabin. They had brought a cart of sorts with a shed on it and several boxes, as well as a few odd bits of Human furniture.
Bertie did not stay in the cabin, but dragged a block of wood in front of it and began to chop down a nearby tree.
‘I would abort that task, if I were you.’ Andrew called softly, so the young Human could not hear. ‘Jeeves brought that olive tree back from Italy.’
The Membrane
It was nearly nightfall by the time the hired boy had pulled his cumbersome handcart away.
Bertie stayed by the cabin door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, till long after the darkness had swallowed up everything but the chopping block beside him. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into the cabin.
‘Alright, turn up the lights, Andrew.’ He said, picking up the flaying device. ‘If I don’t do this now I never will.’
It was by far and unequiviwhatsit the most unpleasant task he’d ever had to perform, and far outstripped other high-ranking duds such as hurling a mouldy orange at a dance teacher’s head and taking an eighteen-mile bicycle ride in the dark.
Andrew had informed him that the strange red goo was to keep the membrane moist and supple, and that Jeeves had tinted it red to resemble human blood, so that an accidental cut in the presence of others would not cause undue comment. This information did not make it any easier to watch the stuff seeping out as Bertie stripped off the so-called ‘synthetic membrane’. He had to pause several times during the course of his work to contemplate the depth of the new outhouse.
The Jeeves under the membrane was very different from the Jeeves Bertie knew. The clear glass of his carapace bulged in unexpected places, and dipped oddly in others. Bertie also found, to his horror, a few holes where limbs had apparently been removed. Jeeves had not been human-shaped when he had arrived.
Andrew seemed to enjoy explaining how cleverly Jeeves had altered his form to resemble a Human male. The alterations sounded painful, and hearing about them in such vivid detail did nothing to ease the constant churning of Bertie’s stomach.
Bertie was not surprised to find that the most challenging bit of this flaying business was removing the skin from the billowy portions of Jeeves’ anatomy. There was a great deal more membrane there, which had to be removed in layers. There was also a rather unexpected anatomical feature, which gave Bertie pause.
‘You will need to remove the membrane from that cavity as well.’ Andrew said, noticing Bertie’s hesitation.
‘Ah... I, ah, didn’t know Jeeves could eat. The human way, that is.’
‘Jeeves did not make that cavity to simulate the act of digestion,’ Andrew said rather smugly. ‘He made it to accommodate the constant urge of Humans to mate.’
‘Oh, I say!’ Bertie muttered hoarsely, blushing a painful shade of crimson. Andrew’s words had opened a whole new avenue of thought concerning Jeeves’ interactions with humans, and with men in particular.
Bertie had worked hard to give everyone around him (and especially his old school chums) the impression that he had grown out of all that public school rot. But the recently opened avenue of thought had brought the old urges and emotions back in droves. He also began to recall instances of his life with Jeeves in a new light, such as the appraising looks the footmen cast Jeeves upon their arrival at any given manor house, and that time Jeeves let slip that butlers always graced him with his own room in the servants’ quarters. The next time he hurried to the outhouse it was not for the relief of his stomach.
1 Bit
2 Bit
Fic Rating: NC-17
Bit Rating: PG
Summary: Spaceships and robots and secks, oh my!
Warning: AU BAD!FIC. Utter ridiculous crack. Bad accents, Mary Stues, Gary Stues, odd names, bad geography, no humor, gaping plot-holes, blatant plot devices, unbelievable events, tedious backstory, and eventual secks for weird reasons. Feel free to abuse in comments.
The Manual
Bertie woke the next morning at the ungodly hour of eight to the sound of a crash. He immediately looked to Jeeves, thinking for one horrified moment that his body had fallen from the chair and shattered upon the carpet. He was pleased to see that the crash had merely been caused by a section of the wall falling a few inches from his head.
‘I apologise for waking you,’ Andrew murmured in a quiet, tired voice. ‘I have completed the instructions for the first stage of Jeeves’ repair.’
Bertie gave the sheet of metal a closer look. It was as thin as paper and as wide as a map. It was also covered on both sides with closely-written lists and diagrams. Bertie ran an idle finger down the sheet, and was shocked to see the words move beneath his fingertip, changing with dizzying speed as the diagrams spun madly in their boxes.
‘Oh, I say!’ he said, lowering himself back onto his sleeping bag. ‘How extraordinary!’ He stretched himself out on the lightly cushioned surface and began to play with the sheet, searching for a method to the clutter of words and images that would allow him to follow the impossibly complex instructions. Occasionally he would reach into his bag for a biscuit, an apple, or his water flask. Once or twice he got up and left the cabin for a few moments, limping from the hard floor. It was well after midnight when his head flopped into his arms, words and images dancing madly under his spread fingers.
Andrew’s cabin was preternaturally silent at night. There was not a single creak or rustle to be heard. It was also cold, and Bertie shivered in his sleep, causing the instruction sheet to flash in distress. At the coldest hour of the night metallic arm detached itself from where it had been resting discreetly in a corner, and slid across the ceiling as if operated by a magnet. A section of the wall slid aside as the arm approached, revealing a column of shelves covered in various objects (mainly books). The claws at the end of the arm clamped themselves upon a corner of what looked like a particularly thick duvet. Jeeves had purchased the item in Japan, where humans apparently used it to keep their limbs from growing stiff at night-or most of their limbs. Apparently there were some that went stiff anyway. The item also kept humans from shivering with cold, though apparently they shivered for other reasons, too. It had been a difficult explanation to follow. Jeeves’ accounts of human behaviours were always difficult to follow, although they seemed ultimately to be about mating.
Andrew dropped the futon over Bertie, nearly suffocating him. Bertie struggled out from under it, kneaded it more or less flat without so much as cracking open an eye, and curled himself up on it. He continued to shiver, however, his sleeping bag having remained under the futon.
The Instrument
It was several days before Bertie felt he had a more or less decent grasp of the instruction sheet. The trouble was that the beginning instructions were so grotesque Bertie could not contemplate carrying them out.
‘But it’s his skin, old chap! Woosters don’t go about flaying people alive. It’s just not done.’
‘He is in no position to feel it. He is not alive.’ Andrew pointed out calmly. ‘You may leave his face intact, if you wish.’
‘But-’
‘It is not a living membrane. It is merely a guise to hide the mechanisms beneath and to give his body a semblance of human shape.’
‘Well, so is human skin, old chap! I wouldn’t want to know what we look like without it, and I don’t want to know how Jeeves looks without it, either.’ Bertie stood staring down at the table with his arms resolutely folded. The clutter had been cleared away, and Jeeves lay upon it with a cruel-looking device beside him. Bertie had stripped him of his clothes and, to Andrew’s puzzlement, covered him in a blanket.
‘You need only remove the membrane on his back for now.’
‘Can’t I repair him from this hole that’s already here?’ He asked, pointing.
‘I am afraid not.’
‘But-’
‘Mr Wooster, if you will not clear away the membrane, you will be unable to repair Jeeves. You may as well leave now.’
Bertie blinked, and stared longingly at the door. ‘I think I will... go into town for a bit... get a few supplies... A dip in the river wouldn’t come amiss... Yes, I think I will.’ He gathered a few things from his bag and strode out the door. Andrew did not expect to see him again.
He was surprised when Bertie returned not half-an-hour later, still wet from his bath in the river.
‘I’m going into town.’ Bertie said firmly. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’
Andrew did not at all believe the Human, having heard from Jeeves the many lies Humans told to make themselves feel better about their actions. It spent the night humming at Jeeves, out of habit, as if Jeeves was still alive.
It was very surprised-and pleasantly so, it had to admit-when the Human returned the next day as promised. He had brought with him a far younger Human, whom he instructed to dig a deep hole a little ways from the cabin. They had brought a cart of sorts with a shed on it and several boxes, as well as a few odd bits of Human furniture.
Bertie did not stay in the cabin, but dragged a block of wood in front of it and began to chop down a nearby tree.
‘I would abort that task, if I were you.’ Andrew called softly, so the young Human could not hear. ‘Jeeves brought that olive tree back from Italy.’
The Membrane
It was nearly nightfall by the time the hired boy had pulled his cumbersome handcart away.
Bertie stayed by the cabin door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, till long after the darkness had swallowed up everything but the chopping block beside him. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into the cabin.
‘Alright, turn up the lights, Andrew.’ He said, picking up the flaying device. ‘If I don’t do this now I never will.’
It was by far and unequiviwhatsit the most unpleasant task he’d ever had to perform, and far outstripped other high-ranking duds such as hurling a mouldy orange at a dance teacher’s head and taking an eighteen-mile bicycle ride in the dark.
Andrew had informed him that the strange red goo was to keep the membrane moist and supple, and that Jeeves had tinted it red to resemble human blood, so that an accidental cut in the presence of others would not cause undue comment. This information did not make it any easier to watch the stuff seeping out as Bertie stripped off the so-called ‘synthetic membrane’. He had to pause several times during the course of his work to contemplate the depth of the new outhouse.
The Jeeves under the membrane was very different from the Jeeves Bertie knew. The clear glass of his carapace bulged in unexpected places, and dipped oddly in others. Bertie also found, to his horror, a few holes where limbs had apparently been removed. Jeeves had not been human-shaped when he had arrived.
Andrew seemed to enjoy explaining how cleverly Jeeves had altered his form to resemble a Human male. The alterations sounded painful, and hearing about them in such vivid detail did nothing to ease the constant churning of Bertie’s stomach.
Bertie was not surprised to find that the most challenging bit of this flaying business was removing the skin from the billowy portions of Jeeves’ anatomy. There was a great deal more membrane there, which had to be removed in layers. There was also a rather unexpected anatomical feature, which gave Bertie pause.
‘You will need to remove the membrane from that cavity as well.’ Andrew said, noticing Bertie’s hesitation.
‘Ah... I, ah, didn’t know Jeeves could eat. The human way, that is.’
‘Jeeves did not make that cavity to simulate the act of digestion,’ Andrew said rather smugly. ‘He made it to accommodate the constant urge of Humans to mate.’
‘Oh, I say!’ Bertie muttered hoarsely, blushing a painful shade of crimson. Andrew’s words had opened a whole new avenue of thought concerning Jeeves’ interactions with humans, and with men in particular.
Bertie had worked hard to give everyone around him (and especially his old school chums) the impression that he had grown out of all that public school rot. But the recently opened avenue of thought had brought the old urges and emotions back in droves. He also began to recall instances of his life with Jeeves in a new light, such as the appraising looks the footmen cast Jeeves upon their arrival at any given manor house, and that time Jeeves let slip that butlers always graced him with his own room in the servants’ quarters. The next time he hurried to the outhouse it was not for the relief of his stomach.
1 Bit
2 Bit