uppwindphoto-blog

[ratligion-official]

Does the holy rat messiah enjoy ear scratchies, bellyrubs and snacks like mortal ratties do??

as the first rat messiah yes

dont know about my fellow rat messiah

as for the giant rat enjoys cheese

and you must feed it to him

ALL HAIL THE GIANT RAT

[eihwaz-y-d]

Twin Skeletons

Part IV

Beginning Previous Part

People who wanted to be tagged: @queenieofsouls @my-mom-calls-me-rat @daemonlogical @crystaldrops20

Again: I know nothing and do what I want.

The petty criminals were quickly dealt with, Jason just needed to walk in the alley and as soon as the wannabe muggers noticed the Red Hood they ran like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

Suits him just fine, now he just needs to deal with the teenagers with zero Self-preservation. Turning around he found himself facing the from the museum. The boy is hunched into himself and rubbing his temples as if to prevent or fight a bad headache, he pays no attention towards his surroundings at all. On closer inspection the kid does not look good, maybe he needs medical attention? 

"Hey kid, are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?" the boy does not react at all. That is not a good sign, reaching out Jason tries again. "Hey kid?" 

But as soon as his hand makes contact with the tens shoulder the teen reacts immediately. 

The kids eyes flyes open -later Jason would swear his eyes flashed a toxic (Lazarus) green for a moment-, with one arm he beats Jason's hand off his shoulder and with the other he throws a punch towards his throat, then something like recognize, understanding and fear flickers other his face. He tries to pull his punch and let it land somewhere other than the throat, literally anywhere else.  Everything happened in a matter of seconds, Jason didn't have the time to react at all. The punch hit him just under his throat where his neck goes into his breast. Jason staggers back, a breathless cry /groan leaves his lips and for a moment it's difficult to breathe again. The pit shrieks and wither in fear and tries to hide deeper before it goes eerie quiet again - It nearly feels like it is gone and never was there in the first -. It takes a moment before air fills Jason's lungs again, he rubs his throat before sitting up again. 

A feral grin spread across his lips and Jason is glad for his helmet overwise he would look like a maniac. But Damn, possibly dangerous person or not, the kid is like a freaking messiah for Jason. One look and the pit trembles in fear and goes quiet, one punch and the pit disappears like it was never there. 

He feels jittery and happy but also at peace. It's like he got dosed with Dopamine, serotonin and Endorphin all at once. He can't remember the last time he feels this good. There was pain he did not notice till it was gone. It feels like heaven. He is high on the best drug and probably already addicted to it. 

" Damn kid, that was a mean punch." Despite the voice modulation his voice still sounds a little hoarse. 

The black haired teen seems almost panicked in his worries. " I'm so sorry, by the Ancients, I didn't mean to punch you. Are you okay? Do you have difficulty with the breathing? Do you need a Doctor? Where do one find a doc-"

A low chuckle - the red hood does not giggle and if anyone would say so, Jason will call them a liar - cuts the rambling short. " Relax, kid, you didn't punch me that hard. I wasn't expecting it and you just caught me off guard. "

Danny narrows his eyes suspiciously, his whole body language screams mistrust. "Are you sure?" 

"Yep." he answers way too cheerful for Red Hood's reputation as a crime lord but Jason simply did not care. He is still grinning like a loon under his helmet. 

After a minute of silence and awkward looking around from Danny and open staring from Jason - who is here to call him out on it? Nobody, he can look all he like-, Jason decides to break the ice, Danny looks rather uncomfortable. 

" Hey, you are the kid from the museum, aren't you? Did you get to see the exhibition you wanted to visit? "

" No."

" A shame, it's really good." 

" just rub it in, will' ya?" 

And Red Hood laughs again while Danny sulks. 

" Whatcha name kid?" 

"Danny" 

" Alright Danny, what are you doing out here in the Narrows at this time?" 

" I got out, then I was attacked by some kind of ninja. I ran and got completely lost but at least I think I lost the ninja dude." 

" lost you say? Why are out and about anyway? Shouldn't little kids like you already been to bed? "

" I have no qualms with punching you again. Can you tell me how to get to the museum from there on I would probably find my way back. "

" I could take you directly to your hotel." 

" Thanks but no thanks. Have you heard of stranger danger? You are not really easy to read with the helm and the voice modification. This doesn't really inspire my confidence in you. I don't fancy being kidnapped again. Just tell me what way to go and I'm not your problem anymore. "

So Damian kidnapped Danny and the boy got away? That is surprising. 

Danny was once again holding his head and was breathing forcefully controlled, like he was trying to breath away pain. 

And the moment of silence was back, then Jason reached for his helm and pressed the mechanism before pulling it off. Luckily he still wore his domino mask underneath the helmet. He did it without thinking and the bat would not approve but who cares about the bat anyway, not Jason, thats for sure. 

"You don't look quite alright, let me help you?" 

" it's just a headache, I'll survive. So? Which way now?" 

Sighting, Jason pointed in the right direction. "That way." 

 Danny slowly moves towards the end of alley. "Nice. Thanks Mr Hero dude."

That brings a little smirke on Jason's lips. "You don't know who I am, or?" 

Looking back other his shoulders Danny replies with a little grin. " No! But with hair like yours I'm pretty sure I would recognize you out of your hero outfit." 

Shaking his head, Jason snorts. "Cheeky brat" 

"At your Service." the Teenager has the nerves to bow mockingly towards him and than he was gone.

As Danny got back at the hotel, it was nearly half past four in the morning and neither his core nor his mind had settled and he didn't believe he could sleep without some nightmares so he would better not try to sleep. Sneaking back in was easy. 

He took his sketch pad from his backpack and did was away does best after a nightmare, he let the memories take hold and just draw till his mind was quite again.

Soooo..... Fun fact. How Danny deals with his overwhelmed mind (and after nightmares) is how I deal with nightmares. I draw them and then they don't haunt me anymore. And one of my head canon of Danny Phantom is that Danny is really good at engineering. (in the Fenton household it is a necessary survival skill for Danny to be good at engineering, he needs to know how his parents technology works, how to manipulate the technology or straight up sabotage it so he dies not completely) but being good at engineering also means to know how to read the blueprints correctly or draw some himself, I think. And I assume one needs at least a little bit of drawing skills for that so for this fic Danny is decent at drawing and sketching.

And also. Someone once told me as I hit puberty if I am in the need of defending myself I should always goes for the soft parts like the throat and than run. So it becomes a habit of writing punching someone in the throat rather than punching in the face.

I hope you all enjoyed reading!

Edit : Next Part

[imnotkosmic]

The Way, chapter one: 'A Voice in the Wilderness.'

It had been three weeks. John had been stuck in that dark, dingy, rat infected prison for three weeks. His followers where scattered throughout Gailiee, even making their way to Nazereth. Andrew, son of Jonah, was one of those followers. His older brother, Simon, had told him it was a stupid idea to follow that rouge Baptizer. Now that he was in prison, Simon had told his brother to stay away from him. Andrew thought about how he could see John in prison without his brothers knowledge, when someone yelled his name, "Andrew! Andrew!" the man in question turned around to see one of the other followers of the Baptizer running toward him, waving. "Tobias?" Andrew asked. "What is the matter?" Tobias grinned broadly, "Its John! He's finally out!"

~~~

Simon put the last of the fish into the barrel and called out to James, "I've finished! How much do you have left?" James looked at his net and back to Simon, "A whole nets worth." Simon laughed. Even without their younger brothers, they got all the work done. Well, Simon had gotten all his work done. "Go back to town," James said, "I'll meet you there when I've finished." Simon nodded, said their goodbyes, and started walking into town, hoping James would put both of their barrels of fish into market this time. As he walked into his home, he saw his wife, Edah, standing at the counter, cutting vegetables, probably for tonight's dinner. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned forward and pressed a kiss into the side of her head. They talked, and then Simon went and changed. "Have you seen Andrew?" he asked as he walked into the big main room. "Not since last Shabbat." his wife answered.

~~~

"You brood of vipers!" John the Baptizer exclaimed to the group of Pharisees. "Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Repet! Don't think you can say, 'we have Abraham as our father' I tell you, that God could make children of Abraham out of these stones!" The 3 Pharisees that had had interrupted John's sermon, Josiah, Asher, and Levi, had been asked by the higher ups of the Sanhedrin to question the rouge Baptizer. So far, no luck. After a few minutes of arguing, the quiter Pharisee, Josiah, asked a question: "Are you the Christ?" John looked at the him, "I am not the Christ." "Or perhaps Elijah?" "No." "The Prophet?" "I am not." The Pharisees were getting angryer by the second. "Then, who are you, man?!" they asked. "I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the path of the Lord." John said, qouting Isaiah. "Then why do you baptise if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Phophet?" one Pharisee, named Levi, asked, pointing his finger in John's face."I baptise with water," John said, his voice getting louder, "but among you stands One you do not know. He is the One who comes after me, the straps of whoses sandals I am not worthy to untie." The Pharisees, being quite fed up with the Baptizer at this point, looked at one another, and started to leave. Most of the crowd did the same. John's followers came up to him, "Rabbi," they said, "the people are starting to leave, we should try again tomorrow." John paused, looked at the crowd starting to depart, and said, "Very well."

~~~

The three Pharisees that had questioned John the Baptizer earlier, Levi, Asher, and Josiah, had just got a earful from the High Preist, Caphias. They managed to get nothing from the Baptizer, and on top of that, actually had drawn more people to him. They had orders to go back the next day. "Ugh! How much longer?" Asher asked. He, Josiah, and Levi were on their way to the Jordan, were John proformed most of his sermons and baptisims. "We're nearly there, sir." the man who was driving them there answered. "I can't believe we have to go back to that mad man!" Levi huffed. Josiah just sat there, staring out the flap of the carriage. He, being the newest out of the three, didnt see John as a 'mad man'. Maybe a little weird, but not dangerous. Soon, they heard the Baptizer's loud voice when they got to the Jordan. They made their way out of the carriage, and quietly into the crowd. John and his dicsiples were baptising in the river. Suddenly, John started to look at a tall man coming his way. "Behold!" John cried, "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the One I meant when I said, 'a man who has come after me has surpassed me because He was before me'! I myself did not know Him, but the reason I came baptising with water was that He might be revealed to Isreal." The crowd watched as the Man came down to the river, took His sandals off, and went into the river. "Rabbi.." John said. The Man smiled and put His hands on His cousins shoulders. "Shalom." John paused, realising what He was doing there. "Have You come to be baptised by me? Shouldn't You be baptising me?" He smiled, "You don't realise now what I am doing, but later, you will understand. This is the Fathers will." John nodded. Then he lowered his cousin into the water, and baptised Him. Suddenly, something like a dove came and rested just above the Man's head, and a loud voice came from heaven, "This is My Son, in whom I am well pleased."

[envihellbender]

Victor Zsasz is the underground punk messiah of Gotham and Oswald is the rich aristocrat who decides he wants to Keep him

Fandom: Gotham

Characters: Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot

Oswald sipped at his glass of red wine that was dwarfed by his piggish, bloated hand as he watched the young man who’d been trespassing around his estate be dragged into his dining room. He was terrifyingly thin, with bright green eyes, and a defiant smirk on his lips. He wore a black mesh shirt underneath an obscenely torn Hanatarash t-shirt, a BDSM harness on top of it, a spiked choker around his neck, leather trousers with bondage straps, and a pair of blood stained Doc Martens. Oswald’s plump lips spread into a predatory smile, he licked his teeth, brushing against his lips. Contrastingly, Oswald wore an expensive dark purple velvet blazer, a white shirt, and black waistcoat that strained over his gut.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little brat that’s been causing trouble around my ancestral estate,” Oswald said placing his wine glass on the large, oak dining table in front of him. Victor snorted in response and rolled his eyes.

“Right, right… your ancestral estate, Penguin.” Victor crossed his arms and his eyes looked Oswald up and down, eventually resting on his belly.

“You’ve heard of me?” Oswald grinned, almost preening in response. “I suppose the most powerful man in Gotham has quite the reputation.”

“Uh-huh,” Victor sighed in boredom as he began to get distracted by the large, ostentatious portraits all over the walls.

“And who has been rummaging through the corpses beneath my home exactly?” Oswald was impatient and irritated as he noticed he’d been losing Victor’s attention.

“Me, a raccoon, the occasional stray cat…”

“What’s your name, brat?”

“Oh. Victor Zsasz, duh.”

“You… I know that name.” Oswald thought for a moment, lounging back in his chair with his thick black eyebrows furrowed. “The infamous street rat. What brings you here?”

“You know I’m only here because I let your guys catch me, right?” Victor said with a shit eating grin plastered over his face. “If I really wanted to escape, these two would be dead.”

“Really now, and why would you want to be caught?” Oswald asked, shuffling back in his large armchair at the head of the table and rubbing his belly that strained against his shirt. Victor simply shrugged before responding.

“You’ve got a nice little mausoleum, nice place to hang out… maybe I just wanted to see the Penguin of the manor,” he teased.

“And why do you keep hanging around my family’s mausoleum?” Oswald continued to press, his jealousy oozing through his body even if it wasn’t clear as to why.

“Your family, huh? We’re gonna pretend your actually related to these dead guys?”

“Answer me, brat.” Oswald deliberately avoided answering the question, there were rumours that disputed Oswald’s claim to the estate, but none of them had anything of any substance.

“Nothing much,” Victor shrugged. “Hang around, have a rummage around looking at the bodies, smoke, jack off… the usual.”

“Hm, well,” Oswald replied clapping his hands together which sounded similar to a large slab of meat being slapped. “Today is your lucky day. Now you can go to the mausoleum whenever you like.”

“I already can, what’re you getting at?” Victor narrowed his eyes and his body stiffened as if looking for a way out at any moment.

“Access to it without a lockpick or climbing over my gate, obviously,” Oswald scowled.

“Why?”

“I’ve taken a liking to you. You’re mine now.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Victor snapped. Oswald raised one bloated arm and beckoned Victor closer. He refused to move, tightening his fists.

“Come now, I think we can have this be a mutually beneficial relationship. You get a nice allowance, as much money as you like, access to whatever corpses downstairs you find, any of your… extracurricular activities, let’s say, swept under the rug, and a nice room in my big estate. All you have to do is submit to me.” Oswald had an infuriatingly smug look on his face, an obvious and arrogant look that annoyed Victor. However, he didn’t reply he just stood and thought for a moment.

“Can I have a basement?” He asked.

“Absolutely.” Oswald’s face lit up, his chubby bloated cheeks causing his hazel eyes to narrow into a squint.

“Deal. So, what, do you want me to suck your chubby little dick? I can do that,” Victor shrugged, he approached Oswald, and the lustful glint in his eyes and smirk on his lips almost seemed genuine.

[rhetoricandlogic]

The Genesis of Misery - Neon Yang

So, this going to be a rant - I'll put it under a cut :)

Unpopular Opinion #137

I loved this author's The Tensorate Series: 3 Novellas, so I went in with real good cheer.

Here's what I would say to the author:

If you are to stick to using neopronouns, make it so that it flows with the characters, the story-arc, the worldbuilding; make it like Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice; you are an author, for crying out loud, not a lecturer. Try to remember this.

If your MC starts out as a gutter-rat, cynical, distrusting politics and and religion in equal measure - do not convert them to a Christian Messiah within the blink of an eye (one event! ONE!) and expect your audience (do you even write for an audience? Or is this pure self-indulgence?) to believe you and follow you along blindly. From swearing and lying but relatable MC to proselytizing and sermon-delivering fanatic follower in one fell, disappointing swoop.

If you have to use current day language, try to avoid internet-slang, you already know this doesn't age well - don't yeet stuff or people; in 10 years, nobody will understand - you are an author, for crying out loud etc. etc.

If you absolutely have to include sex-scenes, try to make them erotic. Hot, even. Irresistible. This takes some practise, but you are an author etc. etc.

If you want to keep your audience (do you even write for an audience etc. etc.?) try to explore at least some of the mysteries in your world-building; let your characters interact with the nullvoid, the Heretics even without resorting to holy violence and expletives; give us something that makes us want to pick up the next book; some answers should hook the reader. Maybe.

Irritating, too, that you should take your audience for dumb. Your "reveals" at the ending were nothing that wasn't clear from before the 40% mark ((view spoiler)) and yet, we are repeatedly, ad nauseam confronted with the MC's belief in "delusions" (hint: talk to a psychatrist before using such terms). What exactly for? I mean, Brutus was an honorable man - literally everybody has heard that at least once, so why repeat the insistent belief in "delusions" for > 20 times? Better write it out again, heh? You are an author, for crying out loud, not a lecturer. Try to remember this.

I learned after I finished, that this book was marketed as retelling of Joan of Arc, only in space and with neopronouns and awkward sex. Personally, I can't see the similarities, but you do you.

All that said - this might be the start of a trilogy or a series, but I will now escape Misery.

[pipelinelaserraygun]

John 11:35 recounts ✝️ JOY. It's the shortest Bible 📖 verse, but in Biblical scholarship it's one of the MOST debated of passages: Collectively, what ALL prompted the emotional outburst of Jesus Christ?

An expression often misused as was the case in this biopic.

THIS ⬆️ is MY 🩸 Bloodline.

SA (in Greek): "Family of".

LAZAR (in Greek): "Lazarus.

Had the Savior and Messiah NOT intervened 🦇 I wouldn't be here.

https://rumble.com/v5aiqy9-kamala-harris-entry-level-jobs-should-sustain-a-household-and-a-family.html

What does a resumé include?How much PAD is too much?

Hers is an unsolved mystery.

When you meet the Creator, stolen valor is unacceptable.

At the 3rd clip here, 🦇 I'm featured: Batman was among the BEST personnel of 👨‍🍳 hospitality, in ALL of 🇺🇸.

For 8 years, I wrote a Foodie column (Yummy Diego) featuring reviews that were written up in our newspaper, the San Diego Union-Tribune.

kama-con quoted @ Rumble.

1,000% 👀 MUST SEE, x5��️

Don't let the joke be ON you.

⬆️👺

Another Jonah 2 translation: This Labor Day, take a hard 👁️👁️ look at demo-🐀 RAT falsification of job experience and remember in November.

Don't sink to THEIR levels, the 🦯🦮 blind leading blind.

"They don't want to put kamala harris out there, and you want to know why? Because she's going to have to answer for EVERY bit of these last three and a half years. YOU can't talk about turning the page, when you're the one who broke the economy, broke the border, broke the world, but that's on kamala, and she's going to have to account for THAT, when she's on the debate stage."

[moonbeam-dragon]

Positive Charge Part 6

Moonrise! Here’s another little flashback~ We’re back to early days. Tw: Cringy teenager drama angst, Darkwing being a d!ck, cussing.

Darkwing pounded his fists against the door, starting to panic. “No, no, no!” he screamed, trying to pull open the door. “What were you thinking?!”

Megavolt threw his hands up, sparking in annoyance. “You think I meant to do this??” he asked. “If you hadn’t splashed the control panel-”

“If you hadn’t been tampering with it-”

“Oh, yeah! Blame the villain.”

“Of course I am blaming the villain! You got us stuck!”

“We wouldn’t be stuck if you hadn’t stumbled in here!”

This mission did not go as planned. Why? Because when Darkwing had chased Megavolt into the elevator, it had been tampered with. The rat had intended on trapping the other in here, but due to his bad memory, had only half-finished the hacking. Darkwing had attempted to use water against him, but had splashed the half-baked wiring and caused the elevator to break. It locked shut and moved around a bit, startling the enemies. So now they were locked in, who knows where, stuck together.

“Agh! You are impossible!” Darkwing shouted, stomping his foot. “What kind of villain traps himself with the hero? It’s like you were asking to get your tail kicked!”

Megavolt groaned. “Why do you turn everything into degrading me?”

Darkwing decided against answering and drew his fist back, taking a few steps into it. Megavolt jumped out of the way, sending a zap at the hero but missing. Darkwing snarled, going to hit him again.

With the small space of the elevator, it wasn’t easy to squabble. They kept running into the sides or throwing each other around. At some point, they’d hit their heads enough to get dizzy.

“Hiatus, hiatus!” Megavolt cried, putting his hands up and charging them to keep the duck at bay. Darkwing stopped mid-attack, panting. “Five minutes?”

Darkwing looked ready to object, but when the elevator suddenly jolted and dropped, he was perfectly still. “Is- Is the elevator falling?” he asked, looking around.

Megavolt gulped, nodding. “Feels like it. We need to figure a way out of here,” he said. “So quit trying to knock us out of the sky!”

Darkwing nodded, relaxing his body and slowly sitting down. “This is your fault.”

Megavolt sighed, sitting against the corner and hugging his legs. “Yeah, sure.”

“Really? You couldn’t even make proper trap before I got here??” Darkwing continued, rolling his eyes. “What, did you fry your brain trying to turn the light on?”

“This kind, I guess,” Megavolt said, looking away. That kind of hurt. But Darkwwing was probably right. Almost a whole two years and he was still trying to keep up with his adversary.

“I just might have bigger things to worry about than this. I mean, taking the lightbulbs from the advertising firm?” Darkwing said, motioning around them. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m trying to liberate them,” Megavolt admitted, glaring. “Do you know how many little bulbs are being enslaved and trapped on billboards? And you think I’m criminal!”

“L- Liberate them?”

Megavolt confirmed.

Darkwing snorted, then he cackled, then he was howling with laughter. “Are you serious?! That is the most dememnted thing I’ve ever heard you say!” he shouted, hitting his fist on the ground. “And that’s saying something!”

Megavolt growled. “Hey! Of course that’s what you’d think,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re just like all of them. I’m the only one who can understand the lightbulbs! That’s why I have to save them.”

“Megavolt the Messiah,” Darkwing mused. “The Liberator of Lightbulbs. The Screwey Screensaver.”

“Cut you cut it out? All your bullshit is making it hard for me to think!” Megavolt snapped, slamming a hand on the ground and sending small sparks through the whole elevator. “If you want out, you’re going to need me.”

“I don’t need you for anything,” Darkwing said. “There are petty pick-pocketers more worth my attention!”

“Would you shut the hell up!?” Megavolt shouted, standing up. “I’m trying my best here! Trying my worst, I mean… You know what I mean!” The rat pulled at his hair, or what was left of it. He was suffering hair loss at the age of nineteen, thanks to his powers. It might also have to do with the stress. And the contant pulling… He should invest in a hat. “Do you know how hard it was to fix the security system to get in here in the first place??”

Darkwing was silent for a brief moment, not sure how to respond. Megavolt seemed upset. But not the usual angry or vengeful. He seemed almost hurt.

“You’ve probably got some sort of mansion from your dead parents, a butler who obeys your every whim, and a dork-cave!” Megavolt fumed. “You know what I’ve got? Nothing! No shit to my name or even a fucking place to live right now! It doesn’t help that I can’t remember to feed myself half the time. I don’t need to start feeling like I’m failing at my career, okay?!” Sparks flickered down his cheeks, and Darkwing realized he was just about crying.

No place to live? Not remembering to feed himself? Darkwing’s eyes softened, and he reached a hand out to the other, but stopped. “Are you kidding?” he said softly. “You’re the most vile guy I’ve ever met!”

“Huh?”

“You’re the worst!” Darkwing said. “I disliked you the moment I first laid eyes on you!”

Megavolt huffed, looking at the panel instead. “Yeah, right. What was that about petty crooks being more worth your time?”

Darkwing was silent. Dammit, he needed to learn how to keep his beak shut. He sighed, looking up at his enemy. “I don’t have this perfect life you seem to think I do,” he said. “I lost my family. The whole hero thing has incinerated my social life. And I can hardly afford my apartment.” He held his head in his hands. “Guess we’re in the same boat, huh?”

“Yeah…” Megavolt said. He still wasn’t looking at Darkwing.

Okay. Sure, Darkwing loved to fight the guy. He had no issue beating him up. He had no regrets foiling him. But realizing he’d hurt him emotionally felt wrong somehow. Maybe he’d gone too far. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things,” Darkwing said, taking his hat off and holding it in front of him. “I guess I’m a little stressed too. I’ve been thinking I might not be cut out to be a hero,” he admitted, his gut turning. “I did let myself get trapped. And I’ve missed you the last couple heists. Maybe I’m better off getting a desk job. I dunno…”

The villain sat up stiffly. “Are you kidding?? But you’re the biggest thorn in my side ever!” Megavolt said affectionately. “If it weren’t for you, I’d’ve taken over St. Canard long ago. You don’t even need a superpower!”

Darkwing smiled, holding the hat to his heart. “Aw, Megs! You’re the most obnoxious pain in my ass,” he said with a soft smile. “You’ve got this villain thing in the bag.” Unfortunately.

The teens smiled at each other for a minute, then the light flickered, and went out. Megavolt suddenly screamed and sparked, providing enough light for Darkwing to see his distressed face. “What? Are we falling again?”

“No, I have a fear of small, dark spaces!”

Darkwing slowly moved over to where Megavolt had been sitting and felt around. He thought he touched Megavolt’s leg and estimated where his arm was, managing to then grab his hand. “Hey, chill out. You can literally make electricity.” Megavolt was breathing heavily, and he tried charging his other hand, holding it up. White-blue light lit up the elevator. Darkwing smiled, squeezing his other hand. “See?”

“Oh, uuh,” Megavolt looked down at where their hands joined. Blush and sparks spread across his cheeks for a moment.

Darkwing chuckled, blushing. “We’re pretty bad at hating each other, huh?”

“Yep,” Megavolt agreed, leaning in a little closer. What was he even doing? Why was he doing it?

Darkwing leaned in closer as well, and his lips met Megavolt’s gently.

The kiss was awkward, to say the least. It was at a bad angle. Darkwing tried a little too hard, leaning in and trying to add more flare than was needed. Megavolt just kind of stiffened up, a hand going to the other’s cheek. He kissed back, half-parting his lips. Everything about the kiss was wrong. Why did it feel wet? It was too rushed but too slow. This needed to stop.

Yet neither did. They get just kept kissing like the virgins they were for a minute before Darkwing pulled away.

And they just stared.

After a few minutes of silence, Megavolt pulled his hand away like he’d been burned. “Oh shi-”

“Have you never kissed anyone before??” Darkwing asked, looking a little repulsed.

“Of course not! Have you??”

“What does it seem like?” Darwking asked, smirking.

“It seems like you practice on your hand!” Megavolt said.

Darkwing stood up and grabbed his hat to put it back on. “Yep, yep, yep. That’s aside the point. Let’s get out of here.”

Megavolt nodded, pulling himself up. “Right. Let’s get out.”

I want to do art for the kiss in the lightning light but I can’t draw humans for shit. Forget a duck-rat smooch. If someone could maybe do that that would be amazing! I hope you enjoyed! Remember to like and comment so I know what you think! Farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don’t eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life!Moonset!

[theblackbookofarkera]

Volmimru

The volmimru is a type of lesser chimru created by the Order of the Skinned Messiah - it is a human rat hybrid. It is pointless to ask why the ethically degenerate nobility of the Tru-isil Empire would request to have such an abomination created, the answer simply being because they can. If it was known the volmimru would somehow gain the ability to reproduce the obviously poor decision may have been reconsidered.

Of the various breeds of lesser chimru oddly the volmimru are amongst the most intelligent. They can converse and rationalize akin to an averagely educated child, have greater impulse control and tend to be quite clever. The volmimru are the only lesser chimru that willfully wear clothing though it is commonly nothing more than dirty rags. Volmimru have also been known to utilize crude weaponry and tools made from human refuse.

Volmimru have become a problem in the cities of the Tru-isil Empire, a problem I suspect will spread beyond their borders. The unforeseen ability for them to reproduce has led to packs of these abominations haunting the sewers and slums of crowded urban areas. Always hungry they went from a nuisance to a direct threat to the health and safety of the city dwellers. Despite all citizens having full authority to kill volmimru wherever they are found their numbers continue to rise at a disturbing rate.

Like all lesser chimru volmimru appear more human than animal though animalistic enough not to pass as human. Volmimru are short and thin, have spindly limbs, thin fur and the signature tail of a rat.

“What I witnessed will haunt me forever and only further question my faith in humankind. It was a group of adolescent boys torturing and beating one of the rat things without pity. While I find the creatures revolting the site of young boys torturing the being was grotesque. The rat thing pleaded, begged and cried as he was methodically beaten and tortured to death. The creature did not ask to be created, it is a crime against nature but so was the heartless cruelty displayed by those boys…”

-Arthur Downs, Agal sailor

[megashadowdragon]

coldhands identity is brave danny flint

Could Coldhands be Brave Danny Flint? It sounds crackpot, and very likely is, but the more I thought about it the more it appealed to me. I've done a quick search, one or two people seem to have floated this before but it's never had much in-depth analysis. This is my first meta, so please be gentle and C&C welcome.

The Gender Agenda To start with, I'll start with the elephant in the room - Danny Flint was a girl, Coldhands is male. Or is he? Gilly, Meera, and Bran all refer to him as male, but they have no idea who he is, so would see Night's Watch clothes and assume. He wears a scarf over his face, and while they can see his eyes and that his face is pale, it took Bran's gang a decent amount of time to work out he was a walking corpse, so I'm not sure I trust them to figure out niceties like gender. Leaf's "They killed him long ago" is more of a problem - she's a colleague, she would probably know. My best defence is that maybe Children of the Forest don't do gender in the same way as humans? This feels like a reach, but we have had another magical species with sexual fluidity leading to trouble with pronouns in the series. Otherwise, Leaf tends to hang out in the cave, Coldhands can't get in, maybe they're just not that close. Finally, the main person to ask - Coldhands his or her self. The only other post I could see on reddit about this theory had someone respond with the quote "Once the heart has ceased to beat, a man's blood runs down into his extremities, where it thickens and congeals. His hands and feet swell up and turn as black as pudding. The rest of him becomes as white as milk", but I'd point out this is in third person and a generalization - "a man", not "me, Coldhands, the man".

Okay, now I've convinced everyone my theory is terrible, let's get into the meat of it.

Hands cold as stone This was what got me into this rabbit hole in the first place - House Flint's sigil is "A grey stone hand upon a white inverted pall on paly black and grey". A stone hand would be pretty cold, right? In point of fact, when we first met Coldhands, the final line of the chapter describes "fingers hard as stone." On top of that, the white and black background seems to fit the Night's Watch blacks, pale face, black hands, white snow, etc.

Who the hell else could it be? This has always been the weird thing about Coldhands for me. Honestly, there's a very good chance this is a non mystery mystery, he's a zombie Night's watch ranger riding an elk, do we really need a secret identity? However, "who is Coldhands?" is one of the most commonly asked questions in the fandom, so let's assume it's getting an answer. We know: a) night's watch member b) killed a long time ago, as reckoned by a 200 year old, c) not Benjen. There are essentially 3 historical periods where we know any specifics about the Night's Watch: 1) the long night/age of heroes, 2) Targaryen era, 3) recent history. If we work through these backwards, we can pretty much rule out the recent era for not meeting the criteria of "killed a long time ago". The Targaryen era didn't have much Night's Watch drama, a few kings sent to the wall at Aegon's conquest, Raymun Redbeard's invasion is wall related but the whole point of that story is that the Night's Watch failed to really get involved... the only strong contender from this period is a mysterious magical Targaryen bastard who went to the wall and went missing... but he's the other mysterious good zombie wandering around up north. The long night has a lot of Night's Watch focus, but it was 10,000 years ago. Allowing for this being in-universe exaggeration, it's still ~2,000 years ago, and if Coldhands were that old, I'm not sure he'd be in elk-riding mutineer-killing form, or at least not look passably human to Bran and co. This rules out specific timeline characters, which leaves more folkloric characters like Danny Flint, who isn't associated to any one point in time. There's a song, and she's treated as a well-known tale, which implies a fairly long time, but overall could be whenever. This works for any of the folkloric Night's Watch characters, but the Rat King is already otherwise occupied with a different cannibalistic pseudo immortality, leaving Mad Axe, who does have the massacring fellow brothers down pat, but doesn't feel thematically right to me. This section really grew in the writing, but TL;DR - assuming Coldhands is someone we've heard of before, no specific historical figures seem to match up chronologically, leaving figures from folk tales and songs, which there are only so many of.

Mutineer Massacre For a character we've all obsessed over so much, it's easy to forget how little we've seen of Coldhands. His role in the story has effectively been "transport Sam and Gilly to the wall, transport Bran and co to Bloodraven, massacre the Night's Watch mutineers". Hold up, one of those things is not like the others. During his quest to get Bran to Bloodraven, to awake the messiah and save the world, Coldhands takes a break and makes a detour to kill the Night's Watch Mutineers from Crasters. This is explicitly noted to be something they slow down for, when time is critical. Admittedly, it secures the party some delicious Long Pork when supplies are low, but even in aDwD it seems like there are other ways to get meat than to hunt humans, besides which he kills not one but five mutineers. He claims it is because the mutineers are following them, but Meera points out they've been circling for days - it seems Coldhands deliberately sought the mutineers out. The brutality of the kills also suggests more than utilitarian pragmatism - there are entrails slung through branches and severed heads! All of this to say, Coldhands is deliberately shown as both a member of the Night's Watch, and willing/going out of his way to punish Night's Watch brothers who break their vows and harm their fellow brothers, something Danny Flint might take personally. Basically, it's a classic exploitation movie with an elk-riding zombie as the wronged woman hunting down wrongdoers. Someone call Tarantino to direct this.

A True Night's Watch One of the big themes GRRM loves is the idea that outsiders to an institution can be the truest embodiment of that institution - Dunk and Brienne are the truest Knights, Davos is the truest lord, the Manderlys are the most loyal northerners. Coldhands already seems to tie into this - the Night's Watch are tireless defenders from the Others and their Wights, so ironically the staunchest ranger is undead as well. It would only emphasise this theme if this ultimate Night's Watch ranger was someone who was barred from entry, had to sneak in, and was murdered by their brothers for not belonging. There also seems to be a thematic tie in that Danny Flint had to essentially infiltrate the Night's Watch and keep her cover in hostile terrain, much like Coldhands in the Others controlled north.

Bonding over being murdered by your brothers Coldhands has so far been very much one of Bran's cast, but it's worth noting characters can switch storylines, and we have someone else in the North who can soon relate to being a back-from-the-dead Night's Watchman fighting the Others - I'm hardly the first to note the Coldhands/Jon parallels, but Coldhands being another character who was murdered by the Night's Watch due to their conservatism and hatred of outsiders would add another layer.

Miscellany A couple of quotes I found while researching for this: “Did Mance ever sing of Brave Danny Flint?” “Not as I recall. Who was he?” (ADWD Jon XII) - Tormund and Jon talking, Tormund mistaking Danny Flint for a man, this feels like one of those throw-away lines GRRM likes to include to make a little double meaning once the truth is out, or just seeding the idea of mistaking Danny Flint for a man. “The ranger wore the black of the Night’s Watch, but what if he was not a man at all?" (ADWD Bran I) - again, I could see GRRM giggling as he typed that if this theory were true.

Conclusion Honestly, there is every chance this is absolute nonsense, and I've just lost it waiting for TWoW. I tend to lean towards Coldhands not having a big identity reveal, he's an undead ranger co-opted by Bloodraven and that's enough. However, if Coldhands is to have an identity reveal, I think Danny Flint deserves consideration: there aren't that many viable candidates, her story is emotionally intense enough and has been referred to often enough that a casual fan could be expected to go "oh!" instead of "...let me google that", and it would fit with existing themes of the story. The angle of Jon parallels even gives an opening for the reveal to be natural and facilitate character and thematic arcs, which is what I look for in a theory.

comment on reddit

Yeah, the Flint (of Flint's Finger) sigil literally being a Cold Hand is what sold me on this when I started looking into it. There's also some other intriguing textual stuff about it...

The weird thing about Danny Flint is that she is only mentioned three times in all of ASOIAF. Three! Bran recounts her tale in Bran IV, ASOS; Theon hears Wyman Manderly demand her song in The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD; and Jon discusses her tale with Tormund in Jon XII, ADWD.

This was kind of shocking to me. Danny Flint is a pretty recognizable name to, I’d figure, the majority of attentive readers. I thought she must have been mentioned before the third book, at least, but… nope. Her tale is first introduced to us in Bran IV, ASOS, the Nightfort chapter… Oh, what’s that? Wait, isn’t that… the very same Nightfort chapter where we first hear about Coldhands? (Well, no, actually, he appears at the end of Samwell III before that, but this is the first chapter where he is identified as Coldhands.) Chronologically, Sam meets Coldhands, Bran thinks about Danny Flint, and then Sam introduces Bran to Coldhands, in fairly quick succession.

So it seems GRRM came up with Danny Flint and Coldhands around the exact same time. Interesting. Danny Flint is then not mentioned again until ADWD, when the Coldhands mystery is developed further. Double interesting.

Also, the Bran chapter directly preceding the Nightfort chapter– our first introduction to Danny Flint– is the one where Meera tells him the story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, another tale of a northern warrior woman dressing as a man and hiding her face in service of some greater goal. Stretch? Maybe.

And why would Coldhands' face be covered at all if there WASN'T some big reveal upcoming? What utility would that have? That scarf clearly seems like a setup for SOMETHING. He doesn't need it for warmth. He's likely hiding a face that would make him recognizable to Bran/Meera/Jojen (and the readers), but died long ago... the only way that reveal could work without a ton of laborious exposition is if he took off the scarf and it was obviously a 'female' face, making it obviously Danny. It also seems likely Coldhands will interact with at least Bran and Meera again, both of whom are somewhat connected to Danny Flint’s story– Bran via his love of stories and legends, and Meera via the breaking of gender roles. So there's thematic levels to it as well.

source www . reddit . com/r/asoiaf/comments/llwm8m/coldhands_identity_spoilers_extended/

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXII

January 5, 2278.

Percy tosses aside her wrench and huffs, putting her hands on her waist and admiring her work. “Looks like you’re finally ready,” she says to the motorbike that she has been tinkering with for weeks.

“Now let’s see if you work.”

My partner hums as she leads the cruiser through Megaton’s gate, ignoring gawkers and onlookers. We wear our helmets, which Percy picked up from Moira this afternoon.

She sits on the motorbike seat, exclaims a triumphant “Yes!” when the engine roars to life… and screams when the damn thing went careening around in circles.

I caught her before she could crash, and the bike fell to its side as she got off of it, legs shaking.

“Dammit,” she curses, clinging on to me, breathing hard. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“If it’s too dangerous to use, we can still travel on foot, but it may delay our plans,” I tell her, steadying her to her feet.

“Delaying is not an option we have the luxury to choose now,” Percy sighs, pulling the bike back into position.

“Then I suggest that you navigate with your PipBoy. I’ll drive.”

My partner looks at me curiously. “You know how to ride a bike?”

“Yes. I am proficient in driving pre-war vehicles.”

Percy clears her throat. “Was that a part of your training?”

I run my ruined hands through the driver’s seat’s worn leather, and get on.

“Yes.”

I start the engine, and Percy gets on the passenger seat behind me.

“Now, hold on tight.”

She did as I said, wrapping her arms around my waist, and letting out a surprised scream when we zipped away from the gate.

As we sprinted past jet-addled raiders and freaked-out mole rats, Percy was whooping and laughing, her body warm against by back despite the winter air blowing.

“Holy shit! This is fun!” Percy yells, and I feel her heart pounding through her chest.

I’m glad she’s behind me, or she would’ve seen the smile I had when she held me tighter and leaned on me.

I could get used to this.

As we rode our way to our destination, my mind wandered back to the conversation we had with Doc Church earlier today.

Percy got inside the clinic first, and I followed suit, looming over Church, who was sitting on his desk, looking over a medical clipboard.

“Unless you’re dying I- Oh. It’s you.”

“Doc Church. Do you have any patients with you today?”

“None. I’m not sure how that is any of your concern, though.”

“Charon, guard the door,” Percy instructed me, and Church was about to get up when Percy pressed on his shoulder, forcing him to sit. I lean against the metal and watch the two intently.

“We know about Paradise Falls.”

All the color from the doctor’s face drains.

“You’re training to be a doctor too, am I right? The oath requires me to offer my services to whoever is in need. Slavers included. Even so, I’ve put that all behind me when I opened this clinic in Megaton. Please, don’t hurt me,” Church blurts out, defensive.

“I understand your intention to follow the oath. Don’t worry, we’re not planning to hurt you. In fact, we need your help.”

“Aside from offering my services as a doctor, I have nothing else to offer. I’m sorry.”

My partner turns to me, and nods.

I come forward, cracking my knuckles in a show of intimidation. The old man shrank in his seat even further.

“I know you remember me,” I tell him, and he gulps. “And I know you remember the people you worked for.”

“We need information about Paradise Falls. Names, a layout of the location, and anything that could help us take down the slaver operations there,” Percy continues.

Church’s eyes widen, and he gives us an incredulous look. “Even if I give you the information you need, you can’t take down Paradise Falls, kid. Those slavers have contacts everywhere. You’ll have a target on your back for the rest of your lives.”

Percy shakes her head. She drags a chair and sits in front of the doctor.

“I’ve gotten used to looking over my shoulder and sleeping with one eye open, doc. That doesn’t concern me anymore. What concerns me is there are innocent kids who were snatched from their home by bastards who think that people are a commodity to be sold. I know you think that’s fucked. Why else would you pack up and leave? This is your chance to make things right.”

“Make things right? Kid...”

I felt the urge to speak up. I look at Percy, asking for silent permission, and she seems to understand, taking a step back and allowing me to take the helm.

“Percy is right. Why else would you leave that life behind and start a clinic here, where people needed your help the most? You feel guilty,” I tell him.

He was as still as a stone.

“You still think about the horrible things you saw in Paradise. You regret being instrumental in keeping those slavers healthy and alive as they hunted down more people to sell as slaves. This is an opportunity to let go of that guilt. You don’t get that chance every day. Don’t waste it.”

“What, do you have psych training now too?” he asks me, mockingly, disbelievingly.

“No,” I tell him. “It’s an observation, from a ghoul who’s in the same boat.”

Tense silence fills the room. Finally, Church relents, taking a pencil from his desk drawer.

“I’ll look for a piece of paper.”

I let out a breath that I was holding. Percy sighs in relief too.

“Thank you,” she says to the doctor.

The old man sketches the layout of Paradise Falls on a yellowed piece of paper, and tells us all he knows about Paradise Falls before his departure.

As he went on, my memories of the place started becoming clearer, but I have no desire to dwell on them.

When we got back to the house, Percy looped her arm around mine. Percy looks at me with those eyes again, filled with trust, devotion, and now… admiration.

“I’m proud of you, big guy.”

I stroked her hair and went on with our preparations.

My mind snapped back to the present as we reached Tenpenny Tower, and I parked the bike as Percy rings the intercom. Taking off my helmet, I look up at the tower, which sticks out like a sore thumb in the Wasteland. The people who lived inside were obsessed with the finer days from before the war. Worse, Tenpenny was a landgrabber, their chief of security, Gustavo, was a gung-ho bigoted bastard, and their doctor made assumptions about ghouls without even looking at one up close.

They reminded me of the people I used to serve, the ones responsible for my indoctrination.

Percy hated them so much.

However, we need all the ammunition we can find, and Gustavo trades them.

“Huh, no one’s answering,” Percy mumbles. She touches the gate lightly, and gasps when it opens on its own.

“Did you think something happened?” she asks me, and I retrieve my shotgun, loading it with bullets.

“I thought you hated those people.”

“Yeah, but, after helping the Warrington station ghouls get in I thought I’d give them a chance to change their mind about ghouls…”

Percy trails off as her eyes scan the courtyard. There were no more human residents present, only the ghouls she helped get in the tower.

“Don’t tell me...”

Gasping, Percy pushes the gate and rushes inside, pushing the heavy double doors open. She runs up to a ghoulette, the one called Bessie Lynn.

“Bessie, where’s the rest of the residents?”

The ghoulette squirms in place, nervous. “Oh, I don’t know where they are. But everything is fine! Roy said not to worry about the other residents.”

I could tell she was lying, and Percy could too, so she moves on, running past the timid woman. Michael Masters, another one of the Warrington ghouls, sits in the lobby.

“Michael!” Percy exclaims. “Where are all the humans?”

The ghoul laughs. “Roy took out the trash. You better steer clear of the basement storage room. I’m glad I lost my sense of smell.”

“He did fucking what?”

Percy brushes past Masters, footsteps heavy as she stomps her way to the basement. As she opened the door, her hands flew to her nose at the stench of rotting bodies.

Most of the corpses were unrecognizable. They were brutalized. The only one I could recognize was the old man’s. Herbert Dashwood. That one was the only human resident who didn’t insult me when we first visited this place.

His face was bloated and decaying. I looked away.

Percy retches, eyes wet and shiny with tears, and I grab her, pulling her out of the room and slamming the door shut behind us.

She was shaking. I pressed her against my chest as she trembled and sobbed.

Then, I heard a mocking laugh. I looked up, and the leader of the Warrington ghouls was strolling towards us. Roy Phillips.

“Hey kid. Thanks again for helping us get in.”

Wiping her tears away, Percy faces him. She wore that expression she had when she talked to Ahzrukhal, when she confronted Wally Mack, and when those Talon mercs ambushed us.

That look on this angel’s face is one of the few things in this world that frightens me.

“Nice pile of bodies in the storage room, Roy,” Percy spits, shoulders tense. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Assholes had it coming,” Phillips spat back. “But I don’t answer to you, or any other smoothskin. In fact, you’d best piss off before you join them.”

Muscle memory kicking in, I shield Percy with my body at the bastard’s threat. He looks at me, disgusted.

“What the hell are you even doing, defending this smoothskin? You should be with your fellow ghouls.”

“Charon, this is hopeless. Let’s get out of here,” Percy tells me, touching my arm.

“You get out of here,” Phillips interrupts. “I’m not done talking to him yet.”

The asshole turns to me, looking at me from head to toe.

“Not man enough to ditch this little girl and stick with us? How much is she paying you for you to betray your own kind?”

Phillips gave me a hard shove when I didn’t give him an answer.

“Huh. ‘Not man enough?’ Wow, sounds like someone is projecting his insecurities about his masculinity,” Percy interrupts, hand flying to the spot on my chest where the other ghoul shoved me. Phillips’ eyes flick to my partner’s hand, and he gives us a mocking smirk.

“Oh, I get it now. This kid gives you a taste of smoothskin pussy and now you’d tail her ass around like that stupid dog of hers? You’re her fucking gigolo?”

“God, you’re disgusting. How could someone as nice as Bessie stay with someone as horrible as you?”

“Keep your mouth shut, smoothskin bitch.”

Percy grabs him by the collar, knocks him off-balance with her footwork, and slams him against the wall, like she did with Wally Mack.

“No! You listen, you piece of shit! I helped you get into this fucking tower in hopes of a non-violent solution to everyone’s problems. I guess that was a fucking mistake, huh? I’m not going to shed tears for Gustavo and the other bigots who wanted you dead. But Dashwood? Does it make you feel like a bigger man, killing a senile retiree? You killed the only person in the tower who viewed you as people, too.”

“That asshole was gloating about having a ghoul manservant. I’d fucking do it again. Of course you’d defend him. You have one too, you two-faced bitch.”

Percy falters, but then slams Phillips against the wall again, his head hitting it with a dull thud.

“Charon is not my manservant. He is my friend. You don’t know a single fucking thing about us. Forget it. You can rot in this tower for all I care.” She lets him go. Then, she turns to me.

“Charon, let’s get-”

As Percy turns around, Phillips lunges for her neck, but I move her out of the way and grab the other ghoul’s arm, twisting it and shoving him to the ground.

“Traitor,” Phillips spits at me. “Goddamn smoothskin titsucker! You’ll pay for that!”

“Percy is my contract holder,” I start, towering over him. “And my friend. I don’t care what she is. I am loyal to her.”

“Is that it? That’s all you ever want to be? You’re fucking hopeless, kid. She’ll use you and throw you away once she’s done with you.”

The mere suggestion of Percy abandoning me coming from his mouth made me want to shut him up.

“Big guy, don’t listen to him. C’mon, let’s just go.”

“Once she finds a human who can protect and fuck her better, you best bet she’ll put you down like the dog you are.”

He should shut up.

Shut up. Shut the hell up!

I’ll fucking shut him up!

“Charon, enough! Stop! I order you to stop!”

Small hands were pulling me away, and Percy’s orders went in my ears as sharp barks.

Conditioning kicking in, I freeze. I look down, and my hands are bloody.

I smeared Roy Phillips to the ground.

Fuck.

Around us the other ghouls, his followers, were too shocked to even fire their weapons. Lynn runs over, looks at me, then her boyfriend’s brains on the ground, and lets out a frightened wail.

Percy grabs my arm and pulls me towards the entrance. “Charon, we need to get out of here!”

Behind us, they were firing their guns like crazy. One of the bullets grazed my thigh, but I kept going, the pain numbed by holding Percy’s hand.

We rode our way out of there.

It’s getting dark and unsafe to drive.

Making camp on the side of the road, Percy treats the bullet graze on my thigh in silence. Then, she stares into the fire, eyes glazed over.

“Charon, what have I done?”

I scoot closer to her, and she begins to cry.

“You couldn’t have predicted that Phillips would turn against his word.”

“No. I trusted him and now people died because of me.”

Doing my best to soothe her, I stroke her hair. “Can I make a suggestion?”

She nods.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for things you have no control over, angel.”

Percy sniffles, and looks up to me.

“You know, I hate it when people call me that. I’m just a kid who’s also imperfect and makes mistakes… not some Wasteland Avenger, and definitely not an Angel.”

“I can stop, if that’s what you wish of me, Percy.”

“If it’s you? It’s fine. Consider it my thanks for allowing me to call you ‘big guy’.”

Pulling her closer, I chuckled.

Percy kisses my cheek, yawns, and settles in my arms.

I smile.

[inorganicone2230]

Purity (Part 1) Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summery: Overhaul meets a quirkless foreigner who holds some very interesting views on his way of thinking. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants to keep her and her purity for himself. And he has no problem with falling to the depths of obsession if it means getting what he wants.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Kai Chisaki certainly considered himself to be, above all else, a visionary, a Messiah meant to save the world from itself. He saw the world for what it truly was. A vile, rotten cesspool, filled to the brim with filth and ugliness, and plagued by a disease called quirks. Despite possessing a powerful one himself, he never considered it to be the blessing that other people did, not that he felt above using it to achieve his goals of course. He was going to be the one to set the world right again, and rule the underworld with an iron fist, so he begrudgingly realized that he would need the power of his quirk to accomplish said goal. No matter how much it sickened him.

Some might call him insane for his beliefs. That quirks were a sickness, infecting the populace with Hero and Villain Syndrome. But he knew the truth that they were all just blind to, that’s why they needed him to be their guide and show them the way to purity.

Perhaps that’s why he found you, you were meant to be his reward for all the good he was doing. It’s only been a few weeks, but he’s sure that it’s a day he won’t ever forget. Not ever, he thinks, gazing down at your form spread out over the sheets in sheer, manic glee as he recalls the all too vivid day…

—————

In hindsight, pulling you out of the way of that moving vehicle could be seen as the starting point to the chain reaction that sent him down this long and winding road of obsession. Not that he would change it for anything in the world.

He had merely acted without much thought when he reached out his white gloved hand to pull you out of the way, touching you as little as possible. He simply wasn’t in the mood to get himself soiled with your blood that would go flying everywhere should you get hit. Touching your shirt seemed like a small price to pay if it meant avoiding being covered in bodily fluids.

You turned around, your (e/c) blown wide in shock and blinking up at him stupidly. Your features were obviously that of foreign descent, not that cared enough to guess what country you came from. It was far too beneath him.

“Umm… thank you. That definitely would have been horribly messy.” You said, your Japanese was relatively decent, if a bit too formal.

He glared, noting with quiet contempt that you didn’t seem affected by it, probably because you were too stupid to know when to be afraid. “The only reason I did it was because I’d rather not get covered in blood and gore. If I could have avoided it, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

You seemed more amused than perturbed by his attitude, and he was beginning to wonder if you were very brave or just hopelessly stupid. “Well thank you for the assistance nonetheless, even more so considering what a hassle it was for you.”

If there were just a few less people out and about he might have decided to use his blasted quirk on you, consequences and mess be damned. Instead he turned on his heel. “Perhaps next time, whatever filthy quirk you have will be able to save you.” He fully intended to walk away and never think about this incident again, however, what you said next was more than intriguing enough to make him stop and give you a second glance.

“That would make sense, if I actually had a quirk. I’ll be sure to ask for one in my next life.”

He turned around to look at you, you were already walking away, but it looked like you were lost, you kept looking at your phone and then back to the street signs and buildings as if you were trying to translate the writing.

“You were born quirkless?” He’d never actually met someone who was genuinely born quirkless, only those that had lost their quirks due to his drug. He could only imagine what it must be like to feel so clean and pure.

You only gave him a brief glance as you continued to scrutinize your surroundings, more than likely surprised that he was still standing there, let alone talking to you. “Yup. No special power for me, unless you count my extraordinary ability to walk a straight line in platform heels while drunk a quirk that is.” You chuckled, the sound not nearly as annoying as he thought it might be.

“Then you’re one of the lucky ones.”

It seems that was the comment that got him your full attention, your head lifting up to stare wide eyed at him. “Lucky? That’s certainly not the word most people would use when describing a quirkless individual. Do you have something against them by chance? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but now you’ve got my curiosity peaked.”

Kai thought about it, why he was still here, why he was still talking to you, and the only answer he could come up with was that he was interested to see what your reaction would be to learning his views. Would you agree? Look at him like he was insane? He wanted to know, so he figured there couldn’t be any harm in enlightening you.

“Have you ever heard the theory that quirks were caused by a strain of virus carried by rats?” You gave a quick shake of your head, (h/c) strands bouncing around your face as he continued. “Quirks are a sickness, they ravage humanity with Hero and Villain syndromes and people seem content to go along with it. It sickens me that the world has fallen so low as to rely on abilities and deformities that we were never meant to have in the first place. It’s unnatural and disgusting.”

He was expecting some kind of reaction from you, he didn’t think you’d jump right into agreeing with him, that would have been too perfect. His best guess was that you were going to think he was crazy, most outside of the Shie Hassaikai thought he was, why should one quirkless girl be any different. The reply you gave him definitely didn’t fit into either of those categories.

“That’s certainly an interesting way of looking at it, from an evolutionary standpoint at least. I’ll admit that when looking back on human history and development, quirks are definitely not what I would have expected human evolution to progress towards. So perhaps your rat theory does have some merit. Almost like a second coming of The Black Death or something.” You said, having moved closer to the wall of a building while the two of you spoke.

“You don’t think I’m crazy for thinking this? Most people would have stopped listening after I used disease and quirk in the same sentence.”

“No.” You chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion that differs from the norm, sometimes it’s what we need to progress and move forward. Culture and society are constantly changing and adapting to new things as time goes on, but we wouldn’t be able to do that if it wasn’t for someone else stepping forward and saying that something needs to be done or fixed if we are to ever move on from the ways of the past. Your views may be a bit extreme, but definitely not crazy. After all, no one ever said passion was a bad thing.”

You couldn’t have possibly known how pleased he was by your words as you looked up into his eyes, eyes that even his underlings flinched at when attempting to hold his gaze for too long, but you just stared right at him, unflinching with a small smile tugging at your lips. It set his pulse racing pleasantly, and if he didn’t already know that he was in top physical health, he might have thought something was wrong with him.

“You looked as if you were lost, perhaps I can help you find your way.” He honestly felt like taking apart his own brain when the words left his mask covered mouth, but it was too late now, you were already agreeing.

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be amazing! I can speak Japanese fairly well, but reading it is another story entirely.” You said pulling out your phone to show him an address for a local hotel, he took note of how soft and clean your hands looked, not a speck of filth to be seen. “I’m here on a study trip with a group of classmates and I went wandering off to look around, ended up getting lost along the way and was too embarrassed to ask for directions.”

“It’s three blocks away, follow me.” He ordered, turning on his heel. He didn’t bother to see if you were tagging along behind him or not, he knew you would obey.

The walk was kept silent and he was pleased that you didn’t seem to want to fill the time with pointless chatter as most people would have, but a small part of him was a bit disappointed as well, he wouldn’t have minded hearing you speak more of those intellectual views of yours. He wondered what else you might have to say about his views on the world. He might have even asked if the two of you had not just reached your destination.

There was someone rushing over, a blonde girl with blue scales around her yellow eyes was marching over to you. “Where in the Nine Circles of Hell did you run off too?! We’ve been worried sick! Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” She said, pulling you into a tight hug.

He wanted to obliterate the annoyance as soon as she touched you. It was blasphemous that this piece of garbage would even think to touch someone as clean as you with their dirty hands. He was even more annoyed that you didn’t seem bothered by this, just reached up to pat her filthy head.

“Sorry Nell, I went for a walk and got a little turned around. But this guy helped me out!” You turned around, to say thank you one last time and maybe get his name, but he was already gone.

Nell just gave you a look, like you had lost your marbles. “What guy (Y/N)? Don’t tell me your seeing ghosts again like you did in elementary school. Was this one at least hot?” She jeered with a barking laugh, bumping her shoulder against yours and motioning for you to follow her towards the hotel entrance.

“That was one time! And you know it was only because Mike was hiding in the attic of that old house to purposely try and scare us. What ten year old wouldn’t have been terrified.”

“Right… sure that’s all it was.” She teased.

“I swear to God, he was right there not even two seconds ago!” You were amazed he managed to slip away in so short a time span. “But he did seem pretty antisocial so he probably didn’t want to hang around longer than necessary. Still though,” You look back over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot that green jacket. “kind of cliche to just up and leave like that without a word.”

“You didn’t answer my question though, was your mystery man easy on the eyes?”

You did have to smile a bit at that. “He did seem pretty handsome from what I could see of him. He was wearing a black dust mask over his mouth and nose, so all I could see of him were his gold eyes. It’s a shame I didn’t get to find out his name, he was interesting to talk too.” You sighed. “But oh well, it would be a miracle if I ever ran into him again in a city this big.”

From up on the roof of another building, Kai watched and listened, a plan already forming in his head. He had to agree with you, it was a shame you couldn’t have spoken more. He found himself pleased with the sound of your voice and wondered what his name would sound like rolling off your tongue, the thought had him shuddering in pleasure. He was not one to question himself on anything, if he wanted something or had a goal, he would find a way to accomplish it. And he most definitely wanted to interact with you again.

“I’ll come find you again soon (Y/N), then we will both get what we want.”

This was my first time writing for Overhaul, so please let me know if you thought I did his character justice! Thanks and please enjoy!

And a special thanks to @talpup for helping me brainstorm this and all my other stories!

[ratligion-official]

Gay rat confirmed?????

can confirm this is indeed gay rat

[libermachinae]

Schematics [Or, Another Chance] – Ch. 1, Crash

Also available on AO3! Summary: Written for @prowlweek! They’ve been construction workers, engineers, soldiers, lab rats, a giant berserker fueled by rage. Time travel bounty hunters is a first for them, sure, but they’ve handled worse, and with the opportunity to get back into Prowl’s graces, they’re down to try pretty much anything.

Notes: Prowlastator time travel AU was an item on the brainstorming list that I was simultaneously excited about and assumed would never get written. Then, Prowl Week was announced, which was a perfect excuse to force myself to do the thing.

⏳ 🚧 🚓 ⌛ 🏗 🚧 ⏳

Prowl wanted them.

He’d called them, and when none had answered because they’d all been deep in recovery stasis, he’d left a message. Short, to the point, crisp with a tone they all recognized immediately:

Send confirmation upon receipt. Meet at the following coordinates.

Mixmaster swore that somewhere down in stasis dreams, he’d been aware of the moment Prowl had reached out, had felt his spark spin and dance in celebration of its prodigal companion. Long Haul tried to argue that he’d never heard the word dream before they’d been stuck under cover with the humans for all those months, and Bonecrusher had stepped in to defend him. As his teammates squabbled together in the cramped hospital room and Scavenger pretended to still be offline, Hook sent their reply. A single ping, message acknowledged. He wanted badly to ask how Prowl was, tell him the team was excited and ready for whatever he needed from them, but the right words weren’t coming. Besides, Prowl would appreciate the simplicity.

They left that night. Had they any stock in what the doctors or human (ew) repair crews had to say, they would have been there several more days, but Prowl’s assessment was the one that mattered. They could get out of their beds, sneak out of the hospital, and transform into a conga line of construction vehicles driving down the road: they were well enough for whatever he asked of them.

Hook led the way, maneuvering them through the hospital parking garage, into alleys, and around the many construction sites flooding the area around where Cybertronians had made landfall. The team had been knocked offline during their battle with Victorion (that was a rematch to look forward to), so all they knew was that a final, final battle had taken place and someone had dragged them to Earth, where they’d been labeled as ‘victims to Starscream’s self-important delusions’ and tossed in with the rest of the bots who’d ended up mangled, crushed, and torn by the death throes of their planet. Keeping their distance, they saw Cybertronians and humans working alongside one another, building plans for a future in which the two species were able to live side by side. Scavenger even thought it was ‘sweet.’

They never spared it more than a glance, though; Prowl was waiting.

The coordinates took them far from the development, across fields that forced Hook, Bonecrusher, and Long Haul to switch to root mode so their tires didn’t get sucked into the mud, and through forests that snagged their kibble and occasionally required they disentangle each other. Night passed, their path lit by a moon that was little more than a hunk of dead rock, and by day they still wore on, anticipation fueling each step like rough high grade. They reached the mouth of the cave just as the sun reached its crescendo, pushing deep into the darkness below.

They jumped. Mid-air, they strained their optics, searching for their sixth.

There. There he was! Standing just out of the spotlight of the roof, Prowl was almost invisible in the darkness: he’d painted over his white paint with a dark shade of gray, and his biolights had all be covered to make him more believable as an Earth vehicle. His single blue optic was unmistakable, though, both for its color and the way it stared at them, harsh but unreadable, as each member of the team landed in front of him. Dust rose from around their feet and the cave shivered with the impact, and he did not blink, though his gaze shifted to each in turn.

Hook felt his spark trip and wondered if this might be the feeling Mixmaster had been trying to describe.

It was really their Prowl. They were together again.

Hook ran forward, feeling more than hearing the team as they converged around him. Maybe Prowl tried to say something, and maybe they should have responded, but no words came to Hook that would have meant as much as actions. Besides, it would have been too hard to hear as five, then six, t-cogs activated.

There wasn’t even time to savor it. One moment Hook was rolling forward, sliding through his vehicle mode and into Devastator’s component, and then he attempted to connect to Long Haul and everything fell apart.

Pain burned a terrible arc through Hook’s body and he wrenched away from the connection, collapsing onto the floor as his addled processor tried to understand what it had just undergone. The rest of the team crashed down around him, a ragged pile of robots, vehicles, and limbs with Prowl in the center, just starting to sit up. He cradled his helm in one hand, but the glare of his optic pierced through his fingers, targeting Hook and welding him to the spot. Even without the direct connection, Hook’s spark felt the disapproval.

“W-what happened?” Scavenger asked, pushing himself up from where he’d been pinned under Bonecrusher’s blade. The more senior team member transformed and placed a hand on his shoulder, though he too looked to Hook and Prowl for answers.

Hook had none. In their time as a combiner, he had picked up a few tricks they could use to diagnose and bypass glitches, little things here and there that could hold the mesh together until someone more qualified could solve the root of the problem. He’d never been prepared for anything like this, the sting of rejection still flowing through his body and making it hard to perform the usual systems checks he would have had going by now.

“You’re broken,” Prowl said, turning to Bonecrusher. Hook was both grateful and regretful to lose his attention. “Long Haul,” he turned to the one stuck halfway between robot and dump truck, “I received almost no feedback from you. Either your combination circuits have been turned in on themselves, or they’re missing entirely. I suspect the rest of you have similar injuries.”

“Well, what’s it going to take to get us fixed?” Long Haul demanded as he righted himeslf, defensive for having had his own poor repair called out.

“Many things we don’t have,” Prowl said, “least of all expertise. The one mech who fully understands how your bodies work is currently in custody.”

Shockwave was still alive? News to Hook, not that he really cared. He was dealing with more present concerns.

“We can’t combine?” He said it like a question, but it didn’t feel like one.

“No,” Prowl said, “which is perfectly acceptable. I have you how I want you.”

The team perked up, even Mixmaster sitting up from where he’d been lounging on the ground.

“What’s that mean?” Bonecrusher asked.

“The mission I’ve called you here for requires finesse, a clear mind, and ability to stay focused,” Prowl said. “Multiple field runs have now proven that, while combined, I am not capable of such to a degree that is acceptable for any logical hope of success. So, it is to our benefit that we cannot combine.”

“You… don’t want to form Devastator anymore?” Scavenger asked. Bonecrusher’s hand on his shoulder stilled.

“That’s not what he said,” Long Haul snapped, though his optics darted back to Prowl.

“You’re right, Long Haul,” Prowl said, “though you would understand why it’s a complicated question. I…”

Hook leaned in with the rest of his team. He’d so looked forward to being in Prowl’s head again, watching the calculations run down, branches and paths unimaginable to them flowing open at Prowl’s touch. If they couldn’t get that, hearing his thoughts would be the next best thing.

He grimaced, though, and the change in his tone when he started again indicated that whatever he’d meant to say next was going to stay locked away.

“I need you for this mission,” he said instead. “You are the only mechs I can trust with it, and I know you will not take that responsibility lightly. It’s because we have combined that I can give you this confidence.”

“Course, Prowl,” Mixmaster said.

“You can trust us with anything,” Scavenger added.

Prowl’s doorwings twitched up. Hook still wished he knew what that meant, and the familiarity of the feeling was what finally reminded him that Prowl was back. Regardless of Devastator, of whatever mission they were about to embark on, that thought stood out in his mind, and he crawled forward so he could touch Prowl’s shoulder, dip his fingers into that fresh gray paint.

“Anything,” he echoed. “We’re here for you.” He would promise nothing he didn’t know he could deliver.

The others followed, enclosing their loose circle around Prowl, who startled at each touch, his gaze whipping around. He stood, dislodging every curious hand, and in the glare of the roof looked like a messiah among his followers. Hook, directly in front of him, squinted up, able to make out only the silhouette of a pointed chevron and doorwings, fanned wide.

“I know,” Prowl said. He stepped over Mixmaster and out of their circle, unfolding from the light and molding himself back into the darkness, where he was once more reduced to a single glowing optic.

“The same way I know that when I tell you this information is top secret,” he went on, “you will know never to reveal it to anyone.”

“We won’t say a thing,” Hook said, standing. The others joined in, echoing Hook’s sentiments as the group rose up, but Prowl’s attention stayed on him. Hook felt the look like it was a blunt object, plunging into his spark, and he accepted the force, embraced it, returning it without any idea of its purposes. He did not look away, not because he was intent on winning whatever game they’d entered into, but because he didn’t know what would happen if he did.

“I know,” Prowl repeated. Hook’s optics, adjusting again to the gloom, were just able to make out the motion he made with one hand.

Follow.

They did.

Prowl led them away from the light, further into the darkness of the cavern. Tucked into one wall was what looked like a terminal amassed with sticky organic matter that threaded together, creating windows that acted as a screen when Prowl powered it on. The team stopped a few steps shy, peering up into uncanny views, except Mixmaster, who strode forward to poke at the vestigial threads hanging off the side.

“This is a time machine.”

Prowl dropped the statement like a bag of bolts. Mixmaster stopped what he was doing to look up at their head. Scavenger jolted.

“You built a time machine?” he asked, awe tilting his helm up and guiding him another step closer, angling to watch Prowl work.

“No. An old… Someone else did,” Prowl said.

“Mesothulas?” Mixmaster guessed.

Hook cringed. Bonecrusher had come across the name accidentally the last time they had combined, but they’d all had to work together to assemble the story, each member offering a scrap of information until something resembling a narrative emerged. Hook had assumed their silent agreement not to mention it to Prowl was enough.

“Not relevant,” Prowl said, proving that it was possible to know a mech’s deepest secrets and still not know how to parse a particular tone of voice. More transparent was the way he reached out and pushed Mixmaster’s curious hands away from the terminal. “I have secured it and assumed full control over the technology. Before I was able to intervene, however, another individual commandeered it with the intention to interrupt our current timeline. Had he been successful, the results would have been catastrophic.”

“So, someone already stopped him?” Hook asked.

“More likely, he just failed,” Prowl said. “Temporal modification is complicated, and without proper training it’s likely he just got himself stuck in a loop somewhere. Still, so long as he remains at large in the timestream, he poses a risk toward spaciotemporal stability. Our mission is to follow him through time and apprehend him, so he can be brought back to Earth to face charges.”

“Against what? Time law?” Scavenger asked.

“Misuse of potentially deadly technology,” Prowl said. “I helped write the bill.”

Hook still wasn’t sure about tone, but that definitely sounded like something approaching pride.

“So, no killing?” Bonecrusher asked.

“No.”

“Damn.”

“No killing, Bonecrusher,” Prowl said. His postured sharpened and he turned to lock optics on the mech, who shrunk back as if to hide behind Long Haul. “If you cannot follow this or any other directive I give you, tell me now, so I can dismiss you and assemble a new task force.”

“It just depends,” Hook said, trying to and finding himself unfortunately successful at drawing Prowl’s attention away. “Is it Spike Witwicky? Or Starscream?” Yeah, yeah, they’d heard the reports, but only someone as gullible as Scoop (who had started inconsolable, turned incoherent when Bonecrusher threatened to punch him back to Cybertron) would believe that fragger would have any interest in staying dead.

“No,” Prowl said, “though that your loyalty is conditional brings down our chance of success by upwards of 20%.”

“No, no, it’s just those two,” Hook insisted, looking to the others.

“You know how it is around that lousy sack of bolts,” Long Haul said, defensive though his tone tried to be accusatory.

“But you say don’t kill, we won’t kill,” Mixmaster added. He took hold of Bonecrusher’s elbow and guided him back in view.

“Yeah,” Bonecrusher said, looking up at Prowl though he so clearly didn’t want to. “Trust us.”

Prowl’s optic stuck to him, then scanned over each member of the team in turn. When Hook felt the gaze fall on him, he did his best to return it without looking like he was trying to challenge Prowl. He wanted to rise to whatever was being asked of him, and no higher.

“I have safeguards in place to hold you to that,” Prowl said, breaking optic contact at last to address the group at large. “I trust that you will not force me to use them.”

Hook nodded with the rest of the team. He knew a threat when he heard it, even a vague one, and he didn’t mind it when it came from Prowl. It was how he got things done, produced results, and with that being one of the many reasons they had come to respect him as their newfound leader, how could they fault him for his methods? A means to an end, that was all Prowl’s precautions were, and Hook was much more invested in the end.

“Once we have captured the target, he will be returned to the present day,” Prowl continued. “He is to be kept in adequate repair, relative to whatever state we find him in. There is a chance he will try to escape, in which case you are permitted to use an appropriate level of non-lethal force.”

“When do we find out who it is, anyway?” Long Haul asked. His voice was almost neutral, but there was a tightness to it that belied his impatience.

“When the information becomes mission-relevant,” Prowl said.

“Hrmph.”

So, it was back to same old, secrets keeping, potentially backstabbing, always plotting Prowl. Still opaque, still keeping his allies in the dark about his unfurling plans and invisible strategies. Hook’s brakes relaxed, letting his wheels rock on their axels. It really was the mech they’d all pulled into their sparks, not the ‘reformed’ glitch everyone in the hospital had been gossiping about.

“Sounds good boss,” he said, shoving at Long Haul with his elbow. He caught a glare for it, but the annoyed growl of the dump truck’s engine quieted to a hum, which was good enough. “When do we start?”

“Now.” Prowl’s fingers flew across the terminal keyboard. “The machine keeps a log of all the points it accesses. Unfortunately, it looks like our suspect had help, as several were logged simultaneously; I assume the intention was to prevent us from finding the correct coordinates. To conduct our search, we’ll have to travel to each one manually.”

“Sounds simple,” Mixmaster said.

“It does,” Prowl agreed, which of course meant, It’s not. “Construction of the machine was halted prematurely. It lacks a mechanism to ancho it to the present, which means there is nothing present within the system to guide an individual back once they’ve passed through.”

“What?” Scavenger yelped, stepping back like Prowl had burst into flame. “You mean we’ll be stuck out there?”

“Of course not,” Prowl said. “Why do you think I called on you?”

“You need Devastator?” Bonecrusher guessed.

“We’re a team?” Mixmaster added.

“We already discussed that, Bonecrusher,” Prowl said. He ignored Mixmaster altogether. “Gestalt coding. For better or worse, our sparks are drawn to each other, and the simulations I’ve run suggest that the pull can be felt through the timestream, as well. One mech will stay here, to act as the anchor. When it’s time to come back, the rest of the team should be able to get back relying on that.”

“Not it!”

Attention turned to Long Haul, who was beaming in pride of his quick reflexes. Prowl stopped typing just long enough to turn a glare on him.

“Not—”

“You’ll be taking turns,” Prowl said, interrupting Scavenger. “We have to come back each time to input the new coordinates. We’ll switch off then.”

Had Scrapper been the one in charge, first, they wouldn’t have been attempting anything like this. Second, Long Haul’s brazen declaration would have made him the first to sit out. Instead, Prowl resumed typing, more focused on the intricacies of the time machine than chastising his team for minor infractions. Hook still leveled a disapproving glance at Long Haul, who shrugged it off.

“Preparations are complete,” Prowl announced, turning his back on the terminal to once more address the team. “Bonecrusher will be the anchor for the first run. The rest of you, follow me.”

He led them deeper into the cave, into a pocket the light had almost no hope of reaching. Here, what looked like an empty doorframe stretched far above their heads, visible only by the energy that had started to crackle around its edges as the time machine came online. Pinkish, orangey light spiraled inward, coming to a point at the center of the frame. It looked so familiar to Hook that had it not been for Prowl’s explanation, he would have assumed it was a spacebridge.

“I will lead the way. You will each follow, two seconds behind the person in front of you,” Prowl instructed. “First Hook, then Scavenger, Long Haul, and Mixmaster. The moment you step through this gate, you are to do nothing without my explicit order. If I don’t tell you to walk, you stay still. If your life is in danger, you wait until my go ahead to save yourself. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Hook said, in unison with the rest of the team.

Prowl looked each one over. He nodded.

“Turn off your comms now,” he said. “We don’t need to risk leaving a signal behind someone might trace. Are there any questions?”

Hook had several, but since none were strictly relevant to the mission, he figured it would be best to hold on for now.

“Very well,” Prowl said. “Hook, follow my steps exactly. Once you reach the end, you are to wait for my signal before you exit the timestream.” A last sweep of the team, and it struck Hook that he didn’t know what Prowl was looking for.

He must have found it, whatever it was, because he turned his back on them and stepped through. They saw his silhouette for just a moment before it was swallowed whole by the light.

Hook stared at the space that had once been Prowl.

“…two-on-thousand,” he heard Bonecrusher murmur.

Well, he could take a hint when it was given. Hook chanced a glance back at the others before he stepped in, not that he really needed to. All he saw were the faces of his team, and they were familiar to him as his own spark. It was up ahead that was unknown, fascinating, slightly dangerous, so Hook strode forward into the light, following wherever it was Prowl led.

[kenzieam]

The Tutor - Chapter One

Pairing: AU Bucky X Levi

Rating: M (my usual, lovelies)

Warnings: language, drama, angst, mentions of abuse

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

@iammarylastar​​​​​​​​​​ @captstefanbrandt​​​​​​​​​​ @jewels2876​​​​​​​​​​ @moonbeambucky​​​​​​​​​​​ @badassbaker​​​​​​​​​​ @everythingisoverrated​​​​​​​​​​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​​​​​​​​​ @oliviastan17​​​​​​​​​ @igothroughphasesalot​​​​​​​ @sashli​​​​​​ @lorilane33​​​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​​

I KNOW I’M MISSING TAGS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IN

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

Levi the jock needs help in high school and her twin brother, Steve, volunteers his newest friend, Bucky. Seemingly just to piss her off, Bucky accepts but soon realizes there’s more to the Levi than she lets the average spectator see.

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

Word Count: 4600+

“Coach is going to give you detention again.” Steve warned, fixing Levi with a glower.

“So?”

“So? So, you’ll get benched.” Steve stared at his sister incredulously for a moment; although they’d shared a womb, he sometimes had a hard time believing they were related. If there ever was an example of ‘good twin, bad twin’ then he and his sister were the picture you saw in the dictionary.

“Hasn’t happened yet.” Levi replied, the sweet tone in her voice belying the twinkle of mischief in her violet eyes.

“First time for everything, Junior. And the school years just started.”

“Stop being such a Senior.” Levi teased, skipping to Steve’s side and burrowing against him, her fingers finding his tickly spot on his ribs.

“What the- quit it!” Steve tried for firm, but it was useless. Levi was four minutes younger than him, hence the ‘Junior’ but it seemed like four years sometimes and despite himself, he couldn’t maintain any real anger towards her. Grabbing her in a bear hug, he lifted her right off the ground and shook her, like a terrier with a rat, until she started shrieking in earnest, stumbling away from him when he finally set her back down.

“Ass.” She commented mildly, making a show of fixing her hair. It was a lost cause, she kept it in a ponytail or under a hat so much that when she did actually set it free, it didn’t seem to know what to do and clumped together in half-hearted dreads for safety.

“I’m serious, Levi.” Steve dropped all humor from his voice. “You keep pushing and you’ll get bit. And then what’s Brock going to say?”

A flash of real trepidation in her unique eyes. “Fuck him.”

“Kind of gross, he’s our stepdad.”

“I wish dad was still alive.”

“Me too, but he’s not. And don’t be making this harder on Mom by provoking Brock unnecessarily.”

Levi glowered at Steve, but he saw that he’d won, at least for now. In the absence of their father, and with the surly Brock Rumslow in his place, Levi and Steve were always and forever united in the goal of keeping the peace for Mom. What she saw in Rumslow they had no idea, for he was boorish at the best of times with the twins, and outright bad-tempered at the worst but he treated their mother like a precious jewel. He’d pursued her in high school like a puppy, lost her to dad in college, then found her again after their dad had died. His love for her was still strong, but he definitely didn’t like the physical reminders of his late competition hanging around. For the most part, it wasn’t bad; Steve was better at keeping the peace than most international ambassadors and Levi’s only real Achilles Heel was her love for her mom and brother, so most of the time, things stayed pretty even keel in the Rumslow-Rogers home.

But Levi getting benched would definitely rock the boat.

“You need help, a tutor or something.” Steve continued, starting to walk away from the school. Levi fell in step beside him, swinging her canvas backpack like she was batting gnomes out of her way. “If you fail the next few tests, you’ll get pulled from the team.”

“I don’t need a tutor.” Levi growled.

“Then why are you failing math?”

“Because Fury’s an asshole.”

“It’s not the teacher’s fault and you know it.”

A low snarl was his only reply and Steve looked away to hide his grin. “And I suppose it’s Banner’s fault you’re in trouble with science and Stark’s with engineering?”

“Yes. They like you, asshat. I’m the bad twin, remember?”

“They like me because I show up and listen, when you do deign to attend, you goof around.”

“Deign to attend? Who taught you such big words? Peggy the prom queen and school newspaper editor?”

“Quit it.” Steve rebuked mildly. Despite her current attitude, Levi wasn’t really a mean person and her rivalry with Steve’s girlfriend was fairly benign, based mostly on having to share Steve’s time and attention. Deciding to change the subject, he continued as they walked down the sidewalk. “Maybe I’ll ask Bucky.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

“A guy in our class, he just moved here at the start of the year.”

“Don’t remember him.”

“He’s not on any sports teams, so he’s off your radar. He’s more into Art and stuff. Crazy smart too.”

“He won’t want to tutor me.”

“Why not? He hardly knows you; he has idea what he’s in for.”

“Funny, asshole.”

“Peace, Junior.” Steve chuckled, trapping Levi in a headlock long enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m just teasing. He’s pretty laid back, quiet. I think he’d really help you.”

“And what’s in it for him?”

“I don’t know, you haven’t asked him yet.”

“It’s your idea, you ask him.”

“You’re the one that needs a tutor.”

“Fine. Where can I find the Messiah himself?”

“Actually… he’s right over there.” Steve pointed to a figure approximately half a block ahead. As they spoke, he turned left onto the next block and quickly disappeared behind a house. “Better hurry.”

Levi rolled her eyes at her twin but shouldered her backpack silently and sprinted ahead.

“Hey! Ducky!” She called and Steve snorted a laugh. This was going to go over like a lead zeppelin. Moving into a jog, Steve followed his sister, turning the corner to see she’d caught up with Bucky a few hundred feet away and was now talking earnestly to him, with Bucky looking like he was searching for the quickest exit.

“Hey Bucky.” Steve called, raising a hand in greeting and Bucky visibly relaxed, running a hand through his fluffy dark hair. Levi turned to watch her brother approach before turning back to Bucky when Steve reached her side.

“This is your sister?” Bucky asked Steve, looking a little surprised.

“Yeah,” Steve grinned, as if admitting a shameful fact and Levi snorted indignantly.

“Can’t you tell?” She snarked. “We’re identical!”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, obviously not used to Levi’s unique brand of humor, which was mostly sarcasm anyway and looked back to Steve for help.

“She’s having trouble in some classes.”

“Only because the teachers are-” her protest was muffled by Steve covering her mouth with his hand and pulling her to his chest, into a gentle headlock, while he continued.

“And she could use some help. I was wondering if you’d be interested in tutoring her?”

Bucky’s brow lifted as he regarded Levi, who struggled ineffectually in Steve’s grip before poking him sharply in the side and pushing away huffily, glowering at both boys. “And she’s not into the idea?”

“I’m right here. You can talk directly to me, cave man. This isn’t the Forties or some shit.”

Bucky didn’t reply to her barb, instead looking back at Steve with an ‘are you serious’ quirk in his brow.

Steve elbowed his twin and hissed something low to her, receiving a stuck-out tongue in answer before addressing Bucky again. “She’ll pay you-”

“The hell I will!”

“Or else her report card is going to start a nuclear war when a certain someone gets a hold of it.” Steve continued, looking directly at Levi. She hissed something low in return and the fight was on.

Bucky took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was friends with Steve, almost from his very first class with the guy, he was just one of those magnetic personalities, and there was something about his fiery twin that drew him as well. Needling her, watching her reactions sparked an interest in him; it was like a sign his mother had hanging in their house, ‘Just because it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean it won’t be a good time.’

“Okay,” he replied, fighting a grin as both Roger’s twins stopped their bickering to stare at him in surprise. “How much?”

Levi opened her mouth to reply, probably with something non-monetary and related to fornicating with himself but Steve beat her to it.

“How much do you want?”

Bucky raised a brow, fighting a grin as Levi started to sputter. “We’ll work something out.”

“I’m not doing that, you pervert!” Levi broke free of her brother to shake her finger in Bucky’s face and he stepped back, face going serious.

“That’s not what I meant! You know what, never mind. This is a bad idea.” Bucky turned to walk away but Steve snagged his arm.

“Please.” There was a new note in Steve’s voice that made Bucky pause. “Our stepdad’s kind of a dick, if Levi has a bad report card or gets cut from the team…” he didn’t finish but his eyes spoke volumes. “Look,” Steve continued after an uncomfortable pause. “Levi stays good and we’re both looking at full scholarships far away from him. Whether she’s ready to admit it or not,” he fixed his sister with a hard glare, “she needs help.”

Bucky waited silently, not really thinking it over because he’d already made up his mind, but he wanted to see more of what Levi thought. Steve’s speech seemed to have taken the wind from her sails and there were even the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks. She flickered her amethyst eyes to his for a heartbeat before looking away again, seeming to swallow her pride before she cleared her throat and spoke.

“Steve’s right.” She ground out, realizing she was stuck and hating it. “I need help. Name your price, except that, and I promise to be good.” She flashed one more fiery glare at her brother. “I’m not stupid, I just don’t pay attention.”

“Which classes?” Bucky asked quietly. He remembered seeing Levi, and how could you miss her, she was the biggest personality in any room, and she didn’t seem to pay attention in any of them.

“All of them.” Levi grumbled sullenly.

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, running through possible solutions in his head. “What days are you free after school?”

Levi bit back a snort. “Not many.”

“You have a job?”

“I busted ass all summer so I wouldn’t have to work now.”

“Okay, let’s meet at the library tomorrow, 3:30. Bring all the subjects you need help on, and we’ll work out some kind of schedule.”

“I don’t want everyone seeing this.”

Steve hissed low in reproach. “You can’t go home, if Brock comes home early and sees-”

“I know.” Levi’s eyes flashed with warning, she seemed to have dropped her bratty act and was genuinely uneasy.

“Sees you getting tutored or just with a guy?” Bucky asked.

The discomfort in the twin’s eyes hit him harder than he thought it would, what kind of dick was this stepdad?

“Tutored means I’m stupid, with a guy means I’m a slut.” Levi muttered, looking away.

“Jesus… okay. Come by my house, my mom’s usually not home till later.” And thank god; Bucky just didn’t bring girls home, he was almost painfully shy, and if his mom started to see Levi around, angry or disinterested would be the last things she’d be.

“Okay.” Levi replied, then added a gruff. “Thanks.”

That was probably the best he’d get today, so Bucky decided to go with it. “Sure, give me your number, I’ll text you my address.” He plugged in his number and texted himself before handing her phone back. Levi pocketed it sullenly.

A plan made, Bucky stuck out his hand, fighting a small grin because, at the moment, he was taking the piss and Levi didn’t disappoint by sticking out her tongue again.

“See you tomorrow.” Bucky replied easily. “Don’t stick your tongue out too far, I can see your piercing and I doubt this asshole stepdad of yours would approve.”

Levi’s beet red face was almost comical as he turned away and he could hear her grumbling behind him for a long time.

 **********************************************************************                    Bucky loitered outside the school the next day, leaning against the brick wall and scuffing his Chucks along the edge of the weathered sidewalk. Classes had ended almost ten minutes ago, and he was just about to text Levi to see where the hell she was when she burst out of the doors, surrounded by her minions and giggling loudly about something. Her startled stare told Bucky she’d completely forgotten about their meeting and he fought a curious mix of irritation and amusement.

She moved past him without a word and Bucky watched as her mob floated across the road to the student parking, saw her shake her head at one of her friends then turn and jog back into the school, breezing past him without acknowledgment. A minute later, the convoy of her friends had left, and Levi reappeared, hurrying to Bucky’s side with pink cheeks.

“Sorry-” she began.

“Jesus, you can’t even look at me until your friends are gone?” Bucky’s irritation had won out.

“Hey-”

“You know what? Forget it. I got better things to do.” Bucky stormed away, confusion fogging his brain. Why the fuck did he care if Levi wanted to hide him? What did it matter? His puzzled mediation was interrupted by a hand grabbing his bicep. He hissed sharply and yanked his arm away, the force of his reaction making both of them stagger backwards a few steps.

“Fuck… calm down.” Levi snapped. “What? Did I hurt you?”

“Actually, yeah.” Bucky grumbled, rubbing at his left arm carefully.

“What happened?” Levi moved closer but he stepped away.

“Never mind. Old injury.”

“But what-”

“Drop it Levi.” He surprised himself with the tone he used, and Levi narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a deep breath before huffing it out. This was not starting out how he’d imaging it and Bucky closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, charcoal still darkening his cuticles from his last Art class. “Okay.” He exhaled slowly, imagining he was light as a cloud or some shit. “Let’s start again. I don’t like being ignored. I’m doing you the favor, remember?”

“Okay. I apologize.” Her tone was begrudging, but Bucky peered into her mysterious eyes and saw true remorse.

“It’s fine. Let’s go.”

Levi fell in step beside him silently and for a few minutes only the sound of their shoes hitting the sidewalk could be heard.

“You don’t drive to school?” Levi finally asked.

“Nah, it’s not far. The walk’s nice and my old truck doesn’t exactly fit in with the Jet Set. What about you?”

Levi shrugged. “Walking’s free. Easy way to get in a bit of exercise outside of endless practices. Steve’s got a car, but he doesn’t use it very much.” She fell silent again, seemingly a bit uncomfortably and Bucky furrowed his brow, searching for a safe topic. The question of why he cared so much flittered through his mind again, but he irritably pushed it away.

“This is it.” Bucky announced a few minutes later, gesturing to the well-maintained Craftsman in front of him. It wasn’t huge, not like the McMansions on the other side of town where Levi probably lived, but the neighborhood was well-established, read: old and shaded with huge trees. Bucky didn’t even mind mowing the oversized yard that came with it and he fought a grin as Levi gazed around in wonder, shutting the white picket gate behind her and continuing to the covered deck. Levi followed slowly, still staring at everything.

“It’s like a time capsule around here.” She mused, glancing up at Bucky. “Not in a bad way, I love vintage.” She caught Bucky’s amused gaze and furrowed her brow, trying to erase the grin on her face. “What? I love old houses like this, we live in this post-modern McMansion because Brock is always trying to keep up with the Jones. If I got to choose my major, it’d be Architecture-”

“Wait. You don’t get to choose your own Major?”

Levi cut off, clearing her throat in embarrassment before continuing, a little gruffly. “My scholarship is my way out, after that… maybe I can go into design.”

“You should be able to choose whichever you want-” Bucky felt a rush of righteous indignation.

“No, I can’t!” Levi snapped, raising her voice. When Bucky fell silent, staring at her in surprise, she added shortly. “Brock makes too much for me to apply for loans, but he won’t help either Steve or I with school.” She broke off, looking down and sniffling hard, once, before raising her head, her face carefully devoid of emotion. “Are we going to study or what?”

Bucky was far from done, what kind of parent refused to help their child, even a stepchild? But there would be time later to explore this, if he pushed now, Levi would walk away. “Yeah. Sorry. C’mon, let’s go.” He unlocked the door and opened it, letting Levi walk in first. She moved past him and out of his direct way but stopped and waited instead of looking around, her enthusiasm from before gone.

“My room’s up here.” Bucky started upstairs but Levi paused before following him to the third-floor attic.

Levi eyed him suspiciously before entering his room and he couldn’t help a chuckle. “I’ve got a desk up here, it’s quiet. That’s all.”

Levi nodded but still didn’t look convinced. “Big.” Was her only comment. Without prompting she sat in a nearby chair and began pawing through her backpack.

“You want a drink or something?” Bucky asked, scratching the back of his neck. It made him sound like a great big dork, but he’d never had a girl in his room before, unless you counted his mom or little sisters, and you didn’t.

“No, thank you.” Levi sounded sullen again and Bucky frowned, but continued when an immediate solution to alleviate her attitude didn’t come to mind.

“Alright… want to try some math?”

Three tutoring sessions and ten days later, Bucky threw down his pencil in annoyance. “I don’t understand. You know all this stuff, why are you failing?”

“I know it,” Levi shot back, “because you’re taking the time to explain it.”

“If you paid attention in class, it would be the same.”

Levi scoffed, head bent over her work as she sat on the end of Bucky’s bed and he stared at her, considering for a minute.

“You know, you don’t have to be on all the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Levi raised her head and fixed him with a warning glare.

“It means that you don’t have to act all the time, you don’t have to be the life of the party. What? You think your friends won’t like you all of sudden if you actually sat down and was quiet during class?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.” Bucky snapped compulsively, then sighed. He moved to her side and sat down, the mattress dipping slightly. Levi tensed as if to move but stayed seated. “Sorry… but it’s true. They aren’t your real friends if you can’t be yourself around them.”

“How do you know what my real self is?” Levi growled.

“Because I’ve been sitting across from you for the last ten days. That… edginess is gone, you’re more relaxed, it fits you better.”

Levi scoffed a second time before muttering something under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Levi snapped, standing suddenly.

As she began to step away Bucky reached out involuntarily and grabbed her arm. Levi whirled, hand raised to strike him but froze, eyes wide as she realized what she was about to do. Bucky softened his grip but didn’t let go and held her gaze as he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Levi pulled her arm away, but more gently this time and Bucky let it go. She sat again, a few careful inches separating them and picked up her book. Silently, she began working again and Bucky watched her for a few beats, struggling to contain the emotions rushing through him.

Did her stepdad hit her? Is that why she reacted like that?

“Lev, does-”

“Just drop it.”

“No. Does your stepdad-”

“Bucky!” There was a faint note of hysteria in her voice now and she took a deep breath, glancing up into Bucky’s concerned gaze before dropping her eyes to her book again. “Don’t tell Steve, okay? If he found out, he’d…” She cleared her throat. “He’d do something stupid and never get out this town.”

Bucky exhaled, feeling like he’d been kicked in the guts. How did you keep a secret like that?

As if reading his thoughts, Levi grimaced. “I’m sorry to ask you that, it’s not fair but… I can’t let Steve get hurt, he does so much for me already.”

A new light colored Levi now in Bucky’s eyes; she wasn’t a bratty little princess acting out for attention, a pretentious jockette who didn’t need to conform to the rules; she was a scared teenage girl, hiding dark secrets and putting on the only brave face she could. Rage boiled low in Bucky’s guts, surprising him in its intensity.

“You tell me,” he replied, his voice low and firm. “If he starts in on you again, you tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

Surprise flared in her unique eyes before her walls slammed down again. “I gotta go.”

“No, Lev. Stay, I didn’t-”

“Just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

“Levi-”

But she was gone.

Levi wasn’t at school the next day and she hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts. Worry ate at Bucky as the day progressed; Steve seemed fine, but was he just hiding the truth too? Finally, after last class, he quit listening to the quiet, repetitive question in his mind about why he cared so much and crowded into Steve’s space.

“Hey Buck. How’s it going?” Steve asked, giving no indication about whether anything was going on.

“Uh…” Bucky scrambled for words; he’d been so caught up in the fact that Levi wasn’t here that he hadn’t actually decided on what to say. Levi had asked him to not tell Steve and he couldn’t betray that trust; it was the only thread she’d extended him so far. “Levi home sick? We were supposed to meet up.”

Steve raised a brow, as if Bucky had said too much already but then masked it with an easy grin. “Yeah, just the flu, I think. She snarled and swiped at me from under her blanket this morning when I went to see what was taking her so long.”

“Oh.” Was there more being said here? Or was Bucky reading too much into it?

Why do you care?!

“Well,” he bluffed. “I don’t like wasting time, tell her to call me so we can figure out a new day to study.”

Something twinkled in Steve’s eyes and Bucky wondered just how much the older twin knew, if he could see into Bucky’s mind and see the burgeoning struggle in him, the divergent desires to both care about Levi and keep her and her problems at arm’s length.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.” Steve grinned. “Talk to you later, man.”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered reflexively. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Later, Buck.” The twinkle was back, and Bucky turned away, cheeks heating.

Bucky glanced up at his cell for the umpteenth time since he’d sat down to do his homework, but the screen remained dark. Would she read too much into it if he called to check up on her? He didn’t really care, it was just like he’d told Steve, he didn’t like his time wasted-

The phone rang and Bucky chose to ignore the way he lunged for it. “Levi?”

“Steve said you wanted me to call.” She sounded tired, maybe sick, maybe something else.

“Yeah, you weren’t in class, are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” The question was snapped, a reflexive defence.

“Why not? I thought we were…”

“What? Friends? No, Bucky, you’re just a guy helping me with some classes, speaking of which, you still haven’t told me what this is costing either.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what, Bucky?” Levi challenged. “What do you think is going on here?”

Bucky stumbled, lost for words. What did he think was going on?

Levi spoke again, her voice suddenly softer. “I’m sorry, I’m being a total bitch, aren’t I?”

“What happened, Lev? Did he do something again?”

“I just… I just needed a day to ice it so the bruise would fade-”

“Jesus, Levi-”

“No, don’t. It’s just a small one, and its my fault. I got smart, I knew what was going to happen if I pushed him and I did it anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Bucky seethed, the phone creaking in his grip.

“It’s not your problem, Bucky.” Levi replied, but her voice was softer now. “I shouldn’t have said anything before.”

“I’m glad you did, you need help.”

Levi exhaled, a long, harsh sound. “I need to get that scholarship, that’s where you come in.”

The distance was back, and Bucky didn’t like it, not at all. “Don’t do that, Lev. Please?” The next words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. “I mean… I consider you a friend now, not just…” he trailed off weakly.

The pause nearly did him in, but there was a new note in Levi’s voice when she answered him, one he’d only heard when she was at her most unguarded around him, the few times she’d really relaxed during their meetings. “Thank you, I… me too. I don’t have my friends that know the… what did you call it? The real me.”

“I kind of like the ‘real me’,” Bucky grinned. “She’s easier to take than Party Levi.”

“I’ll be in class tomorrow… see you then?”

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, Lev.”

“Goodnight Bucky.”

[tribeworldarchive]

Tribe News - 27 September 1999

THE TRIBE ON THE WEEKEND On the weekend, Dwayne Cameron (BRAY), Jaimee Kaire-Gataulu (CHLOE), and Sarah Major (PATSY) went home to visit their families before returning to the Cloud 9 production center to resume filming. Victoria Spence`s friend visited and stayed with Victoria at her houseparent and chaperones` house near the Cloud 9 production centre and spent most of the weekend shopping and catching up on news of their friends at Victoria`s school, all of whom are major Tribe fans and very proud that their schoolmate is achieving success as a regular cast member of the Tribe. Beth Allen (AMBER) and Amy Morrison (ZANDRA) remained with their families at their homes while Caleb Ross (LEX) entertained Antonia Prebble (TRUDY), who is staying with the Tribe cast and houseparents while her family visited the South Island. Michael Wesley-Smith (JACK) caught up on school work as did Ashwath Sundarensen (DAL) and Airi (KC) while Ryan Runciman (RYAN) learned his lines and checked out some of the rugby (Ryan is a keen rugby fan). Meryl Cassie (EBONY) spent most of the weekend recording (John Williams and Matt Prime anticipate the completion of the Tribe album in approximately four weeks and we will provide details of the release date so keep checking the website for exclusive information).

THE CHOSEN We have been authorised to reveal that fans of the Tribe throughout the world will be introduced to some new characters in the second series including the Guardian - a mysterious and spiritual leader of the enigmatic Tribe called The Chosen, who become an ominous threat and adversary of the Mall Rats. The Chosen are a breakaway, almost renegade faction of the Locos, inspired by the word of Zoot and throughout the back-story episodes in series 2, fans will note the Guardian under his alias of Jaffa becoming friends with Martin - prior to his incarnation under the persona of Zoot.

DANNI, ALICE, ELLIE In addition to the Guardian/Jaffa, there are other characters introduced in series 2. Obviously storylines are highly confidential, but we have been authorised to reveal as an exclusive to website fans and users, that Alice the humorous farm girl will return along with her sister Ellie, and life for the Tribe will never quite be the same when they encounter these slightly unusual women of the Earth (and as a sneak preview, Jack in particular is destined to feature in the amorous Ellie`s plans). Also, a stunning young lady (Danni) will affect the lives of the Mall Rats and we will reveal more information in later editions on the website so keep checking the Bulletin Board for updates.

TRIBE MUSIC WORLD EXCLUSIVE On Monday 27th September, the cast and crew of Tribe Series 2 attended a premier of the two music videos which were filmed recently, and all concerned were thrilled with the end results. The Cloud 9 post-production team has been busy editing and laying tracks so the finished result was eagerly anticipated by all concerned. One track is entitled "Abe Messiah" and is a spiritual and inspired piece of music which is very different and can only be described as "Tribe rock" featuring a strong gospel element and celebrating the birth of the Abe Messiah. The other track is entitled "This is the Place" and features Dwayne Cameron, Caleb Ross and Daniel James (BRAY, LEX - and yes, ZOOT!) all of whom seem reminiscent to a cross between Boyzone and Backstreet Boys, and their singing and choreography is very impressive. The music video involves some sexy slow dancing between Bray and Danni, Zoot and Trudy, and Lex and Ebony - but this is not relevant to any storyline themes of the Tribe, it is purely visuals to punctuate the song which is very much a love song. Other members of the cast will feature on other music videos as and when the tracks and album have been completed. We have been authorised to reveal that Cloud 9 is currently negotiating to try and make these videos available EXCLUSIVE to members of the Official Tribe Fan Club and more information will be posted when details are known - hopefully long before Christmas so that members of the Fan Club will receive limited editions of the music videos.

MIPCOM Mipcom? This is a global television festival rather like the Cannes Film Festival. MIPCOM is actually held in Cannes in the South of France and members of Cloud 9`s administrative team and the sales team of Cloud 9`s distribution subsidiary, Cumulus, will be attending the festival to discuss several foreign territories acquiring the series, which means that fans of the Bulletin Board on the website will soon be able to chat with viewers all over the world. The Tribe is rapidly evolving into a cult series and has received great critical acclaim as well as very high ratings. This has generated an enormous amount of interest from several broadcasters all over the world from America to Japan, Germany to Italy, and more details will be posted about transmissions in other countries. But as sure as the sun sets and rises again - the world is going Tribal!

CAST APPEARANCE ON TRIBE TALK Victoria Spence (SALENE) appeared on the Bulletin Board last week and had a tremendous response from fans. Victoria (who likes to be called Tori - and never Vicky!) enjoyed chatting with fans about all kinds of topics and areas both on and off-screen. Victoria tried her very best to answer as many messages as she can and apologies to those messages and users whom she could not reply to. Victoria will be appearing on the Bulletin Board later this week to answer messages she was unable to get to last week due to the huge demand. We will be announcing details of the next cast member to appear live and exclusive on Tribe Talk on Monday 4th October.

NOT LONG NOW - NEW TRIBEWORLD! The bigger and even better new Official Tribe Website is in the final stages of testing. Our design team want to make sure that everything runs smoothly and works well on the new website before it goes live and online. The new official site will have all the sections on the existing site but many new ones with loads of exciting info and things to do and many new original areas that have never before appeared on other websites! We anticipate that the new website will be ready early November. Not long now!

[mathiaskillmaster]

Rebirth of the Dragon (After GOT / Daenerys Targaryen) Part 7

The ironborn ship had finally reached the mysterious city of Asshai and anchored on a deserted dock, where dozens of crates of abandoned merchandise and some abandoned fishing nets were dragging. Having dressed in her ebony dress and black cloak, Daenerys, accompanied by Kinvara and two soldiers from the Fiery Hand, descended from the footbridge and stepped on the crackling wood of the dock. Finally, on the mainland, she said to herself breathing a great blow, after almost a whole month at sea. Yara then went down, also escorted by two ironborn warriors, and also accompanied by Shen-zoan who volunteered to accompany them. Grey Worm and the remaining of the crew were appointed to guard the ship during the group's absence, who would come back for them tomorrow morning for the start of the inland expedition. Indeed, being too late to leave, Daenerys had decided that they would spend the night in Asshai. The young queen was still too tired to take a long walk, and had to sleep a little. Kinvara made no objection, and guiding Daenerys, offered to show her a safe place she apparently knew and where they could spend the night. Far too big to be able to follow his mother in the streets of Asshai, Drogon was forced to stay on the docks, bigger. The dragon gave a worried, almost childish growl when Daenerys came to him, caressing his muzzle with love and kissing him on the nose. She saw that Drogon was concerned, that he did not like at all the heavy and macabre atmosphere of this city. _ "I'll be back tomorrow, my sweet boy, don't worry. I'm in good hands." she said with all the affection she could have for her last son. Drogon moaned again, seeing her leave with the others, but had to resign himself to obey. Drogon looked around him, growling suspiciously against the shadows he thought he saw moving in the recesses of some dark alleyways. Shen-zoan, while walking, came alongside Daenerys. _ "Your relationship with this dragon is very surprising, my queen." he commented without passing this for a reproach, quite the contrary. _"Drogon is more than a friend, dear Shen ..." she replied, "he is my son, born from the fire, just like me." The traveler was interested in the story, and looked for something in his bag. Something he found and handed to the dragon queen, as a gift. A parchment, on which was drawn in black ink, a very detailed and beautiful portrait of Drogon, in a posture of majestic flight. Daenerys was impressed by the sense of detail and the elegance of the drawing, as if it were almost moving in front of her eyes. _ "It's .... it's beautiful." she said, thanking her new friend for this gift, compliment he received with a humble bow. _ "The beauty and majesty of certain things are such that they deserve to be immortalized forever ... Who knows ..... would you ever want me to make a portrait of you, one day, majesty?" he asked very modestly. Daenerys smiled, a little embarrassed, and blushed slightly after what seemed like a compliment to Drogon but also to her, keeping the drawing close to her. Shen suddenly looked a little embarrassed too, seeing her blush. _"Forgive me if my remark causes you embarrassment, my queen, I assure you that my attention was not ..." he apologized, but was interrupted by the thin hand of Daenerys coming gently take his. _ "I would be honored ..... thank you, my friend." was the answer of the young woman, to the great pleasure of Shen who was reassured. The queen and her escort left the wharves to finally enter the first street of Asshai, between two large black houses with closed shutters. Draped from her red coat with the hood on her head, Kinvara walked in the lead. Behind her, Daenerys, escorted on either side by the two warriors of the Fiery Hand. Behind, closing the march, Yara Greyjoy, her two ironborn guards and Shen-zoan. While walking, Daenerys could finally contemplate with her eyes the city of shadows. The immensity of this city was disconcerting. It was much larger than King's Landing. But despite its size, it seemed almost abandoned, few houses being lit, and the light of the few torches seemed to be absorbed in the darkness of the night. All the buildings were built with black stone, with a disturbing and greasy appearance. The mist had invaded the streets and alleys and snaked on the ground, forming a disturbing carpet of smoke. The architecture of the city was very strange. Palaces built next to brothels and other shabby establishments, and also many temples and other places of worship more or less frequented. According to legend, in Asshai, all religions and cults are allowed, such as the obscure and poorly known cults of the Black Goat and the Lion of Night, or a religion better known as that of the god R'hllor. All kinds of entities were venerated here, such as the moonsingers, the necromancers, the pyromancers, the bloodmages, or the most dreaded of all, the shadowbinders, who were said to be capable of giving birth to demons made up of shadows during very special rituals. The group met a few people, all of whom were hiding under the porches of the houses or in the recesses of the aisles, waiting in silence and watching the group go by without saying a word. Daenerys could see that the inhabitants were all very dressed, hiding the smallest part of their bodies, and were all veiled, wearing masks or hoods. Daenerys could almost feel their eyes on her, and did everything to try to ignore them and kept going, although they did nothing to try to harm her. It was almost as if they were waiting for her coming. Was that the case? Daenerys' group passed by the entrance of what looked like a temple. Daenerys take a fast look as she passed, she saw, with horror, a crowd of worshipers, chanting incomprehensible words and venerating an idol in the shape of a humanoid goat. One of the worshipers, the leader of the ritual, had covered himself from head to foot with blood, and seemed to be in a trance, convulsing while waving his arms. Yara swallowed when she saw that, just like Shen, and both continued without stopping. Everywhere, they seemed to hear like ritual songs and other incantations coming from the interior of the houses, all in languages ​​as varied as strange. What could be happening in this city? _ "What is this city of demons?" Yara sighed, notch, just like her two guards. Shen remained calm, but showed his distrust of what was happening here. Kinvara remained calm as usual, and stopped in front of a building in the center of a small deserted square. The sticky sign hanging over the entrance seemed to indicate a bazaar. _"Here we are." said Kinvara, who without hesitation, pushed the door to enter the first, and inviting the others to follow her inside, which they did, after a few seconds of hesitation. A smell of spices, but also a mixture of incense and other medicinal products came to rub their nostrils as soon as they entered. The place was of average size, but full of objects of all kinds. Small dead animals hung on the ceiling. Pots containing various medicinal products or for any other purpose. Many objects made of bone, wood and other natural elements apparently used for ritual purposes, and even sinister dolls. A little monkey, with red eyes, walked freely between the shelves, emitting curious little sounds against the visitors. Kinvara led the rest of the group to the bottom of the bazaar, where behind a counter, was a person bent to examine the inside of a dead black rat's corpse and extract its vital organs. The woman behind the counter looked up, and smiled at Kinvara, seeming to know her. _"My dear Lady Kinvara .... finally we meet again after such a long time ..." said the woman from the bazaar in a honeyed and deep voice with an almost seductive tone. She had pale skin, but looked as if she was wearing makeup all over her body and was tattooed on almost the entire face. Long dreadlocks fell on her shoulders, and she was dressed in a strange dress made of animal leather and wore around her neck a pendant made of skulls of sparrows. Her smiling gray lips revealed behind a teething as white as her face. Kinvara greeted her with a nod. _"I greet you, Heliora. I bring you some visitors to spend the night, and they will leave tomorrow morning with me." The strange young woman named Heliora listened, then her gaze was drawn behind Kinvara's shoulder towards Daenerys, who was looking around with an edge of suspicion. Heliora's face seemed to clear, as if she had seen a messiah appear before her. _"You ..." she whispered between her lips as she walked towards Daenerys, who remained frozen in front of the woman staring at her. Yara wanted to intervene, but Shen held her back, making her understand by the look that it was better not to interfere with the people of Asshai. Heliora, with her blackened-fingered hands, felt a little the face of the young dragon queen, examining her from head to foot. Kinvara let her do, knowing her merchant friend well. _ "You, so young, but already having suffered so many trials, beyond the very veil of life and death .... You, who have long been lost in a quest doomed to failure, but destined for something so much bigger ..... Daenerys of house Targaryen." Heliora spoke very slowly, mystically, every word seemed to materialize out of her mouth. Daenerys could almost feel her blood-red-iris eyes piercing her mind, as if reading inside her. _ "Y .... do you know me?" Daenerys said a little confused. Heliora smiled at her, with the same seductive air as towards Kinvara. Obviously, she preferred women to men. She also glanced at Yara, whose young ironborn queen did not seem to be indifferent and smiled her back. _ "The reputation of the breaker of chains and mother of dragons has reached the ears of Asshai. Everyone here knows who you are, even those who have no ears to hear or eyes to see." confirmed Heliora returning to Daenerys. Heliora, whoever or whatever she was, gave her goose bumps. _"Your friends can stay for the night, Kinvara, but you know you have to pay." Heliora announced, returning to her counter, while giving a small caress to her monkey who come join her. _"Of course." Kinvara kindly replied, telling one of her Fiery Hand soldiers to come forward, to give her something wrapped in a rag, which she put under the merchant's eyes. The latter removed the rag, revealing a special dagger. Daenerys gasped as she sees the weapon. It was the dagger with which Jon had killed her. Kinvara had kept it after extracting it. Daenerys felt bad and had to turn away from the sight of the weapon, backed by Yara and Shen. Heliora could not contain her joy at possessing this dagger now, the very one whose blade had been impregnated with the blood of the dragon. _ "Your payment is honest, my dear Kinvara." Heliora told her, confiding the object to his monkey, who went to hide it somewhere in the shop, out of sight. "You are welcome in my humble abode, my good lords ..... tonight you can sleep .... But beware, young dragon queen, because at every moment the night is dark and full of terrors." warned the merchant in a silly little sneer. Uncomfortable, Daenerys chosen to move and guided by Kinvara, goes to the room where she can sleep, while Heliora focuses again on her dead rat on the counter, tearing the heart with forceps. ******** A little later in the night, Daenerys, despite the gloomy atmosphere of this bazaar, had managed to fall asleep in a room at the back of the shop. The two soldiers of the Fiery Hand, by order of the priestess, would remain all night as sentinels in front of the door of the room. The two ironborn sailors had gone to sleep in the bazaar reserve too. Kinvara, who was not sleepy, had settled into a kind of living room, and was patient, sitting watching the flames dancing gently in the hearth. She was not alone because Shen was there too, sitting with his eyes closed, meditating. Also unable to sleep, Yara had gone outside, under the porch of the shop. Her water bottle in hand, the ironborn queen was nervous and alert, listening to each sound that was heard in the surrounding streets and looking constantly looking for any suspicious movement. The mist, however, did not help to see the area around the store. _ "Nervous?" suddenly said Heliora, who like a ghost, had arrived behind Yara, who jumped in surprise and sighed with annoyance. _"You should be careful, I could have put my ax in your head without wanting it." Yara warns, taking a sip. Undaunted, Heliora continues to smile and comes closer slowly but surely to Yara, who noticed it well. _"Oh, but I don't doubt it, a proud warrior like you," commented Heliora, her eye sparkling with a certain lust. Yara guessed it, and she liked it. Their faces are closer to each other. _ "You know ...." Yara sighed as she came to touch one of the dreadlocks with her fingers and pushed it away from the merchant's handsome face "... you're the most weird and crooked woman I've ever met in my fucking life, but I like this." Heliora did not wait anymore, coming to snuggle against Yara's chest, blocking her against the wall, their mouths meeting in a kiss more and more sensual. Without interrupting the kiss, Heliora rubbed her hand along Yara's body, then her thigh to finally come and touch the crotch, which made Yara smile naughty. _ "You're interested by what's in store from what I see, it's good, we're open all night." Yara quipped, eager to go further, as did Heliora. Having never done this with a woman in armor, it excited her even more. Both decided to go back inside, Heliora knowing a room where they would be quiet to continue without risking to wake the others. Meanwhile, in the room at the back of the shop dipped in the dark, Daenerys was lying in a single bed, but nevertheless clean and comfortable to sleep peacefully. However, the queen, asleep, did not notice the furtive figure silently approaching the window of the room, looking out onto a deserted, misty street. The form, dressed entirely in black and wearing a hood, glanced quickly through the window, catching sight of the sleeping young queen in the middle of the room. Still in the greatest discretion, the masked individual began to cut the glass pane with a blade, managing to make a hole in the glass large enough to pass a hand. However, he did not try to open the window from inside, but passed something through the hole. A manticore, a deadly venom insect from Essos. The deadly insect began to crawl toward Daenerys' bed, and slowly began to climb the sheet to hoist itself to the top of the bed and come up to the young woman, who does not suspect anything. From the wharves, Drogon, who was sleeping, suddenly opened his eyes, filled with a sense of danger and fear for his mother. In the living room of the shop, Shen-zoan abruptly came out of his meditation with the same strange feeling and turned to Kinvara. _"Yes ... I saw it too ..." she confirmed. Without further ado, Shen grabbed his wooden stick, jumped up and as fast as he could, ran to the room where the queen was sleeping. Alerted by the commotion, Yara and Heliora, who did not have time to start their night together, came to see what was happening and saw Shen pass in front of them like an arrow. The manticore had crawled and was now standing very close to Daenerys's face, getting ready to sting her neck with his hooked dart filled with a more than poisonous poison. The door to the room suddenly opened and Shen burst into the room, and without further ado, with a nimble stick blow and without touching Daenerys, pushed away the poisonous insect that crashed against the wall. Daenerys straightened up, panting and awakened by the noise, to see Shen armed with his staff and looked around the room vigilantly, while Kinvara and the Fiery Hand soldiers came in their turn. Kinvara sat down beside Daenerys on the bed. _ "My queen, are you all right?" asked the priestess. _"I ... yes, I believe, but what's going on?" asked Daenerys, more than confused. Shen looked everywhere, and that's where he saw him. The dark silhouette behind the window, which was starting to flee. Without saying a word and under the dumbfounded gaze of Daenerys, Shen rushed and jumped quickly and agilely through the glass of the window, breaking it into pieces and landing on his feet in the street, in defensive posture. Without further ado, he set off in pursuit of the man dressed in black who was running away with extraordinary speed. Yara and Heliora arrived in the room, noticing the facts and the broken window. Yara came to make sure, asking Daenerys if she was okay. Kinvara leaned forward and gently picked up the crushed corpse of the poisonous insect to reveal it in plain sight. Daenerys felt her heart beat. _ "A manticore ..." she says. She had already seen one of these insects, which had also wanted to sting her once. A trap set by the warlocks of Qarth. Were they them again? Did they come to take revenge? Perhaps. A few minutes later, while everyone gathered in the living room with Daenerys, still under the shock of this assassination attempt and supported by Yara sitting next to her. Shen ends up coming back to the shop, empty-handed. _ "He was going too fast." he said, "I could not catch him and he seemed to know the streets of this city like his pocket, but he dropped that." Shen threw a small object, a sort of small piece of iron that Kinvara caught in the palm of her hand and examined closely. Her worst doubts seemed to come true. A very special coin, from Braavos. _ "Whom does it come from?" Yara asked. Kinvara looked at them one by one, hinting at the worst of all. _ "The Faceless Men." confirmed the priestess. Daenerys was only more shocked. Like many, she knew the terrifying reputation of those assassins and their mysterious powers. For Shen, it also confirmed something more disturbing than he shared with others. _ "The Faceless Men never act alone. Someone wants you dead, my queen."