#Prime's hound indeed

[transingthoseformers]

Back on this beloved OptiTarn TtSG AU now.

This is a major timeskip with lots of things in between but; eventually the Autobots with Tarn in co-command begin to be much more proactive about hunting Decepticons and what's more, looking to the stars. Optimus and he are firmly on each other's side and have settled into a formal relationship and romantic one at this point having done most of the four acts. 

Tarn has brought Optimus a new interest. The Colonies.

The SG!Decepticons are disturbed and horrified. They cannot let the Autobots destroy more worlds after what has been done to their own. Megatron has been incredibly guilty over the damages done by Tarn and listened to the stories told by Soundwave as a warning to not let himself fall. They all have nightmares about what Tarn, the Prime's Hunting Hound is his nickname now, did that day and continues to do.

Even formally sympathetic populations are falling under the "New Reforms" and an understandable exhaustion from war.

Starscream laughs that he almost could like Tarn for some of those laws they are implementing in his little takeover if it didn't come hand in hand for his philosophy of peace through tyranny and absolute control. 

Soundwave is worried about all of them.

Starscream has been quiet, their Voice not silenced but occasionally whispering with the loss of Thundercracker to one such hunt. He and Megatron have both been focusing on the other but not their own trauma which had made Soundwave sigh in fond worry. They'd propped each other up though and Starscream had accepted the young Nova Storm, newly alone herself, into his and Skywarp’s Trine. 

Skywarp is the worst concern. Flamewar for all her lashing out and screaming is voicing her feelings. Skywarp has gone quiet and distant and worrisomely focused on reading every report and studying and picture they get of Tarn.

Even worse are the rumors of the newborns disappearing from hotspots or newly onlined Cold Constructed specially chosen by the Prime and Tarn to form an elite squad. Soundwave suspects he knows exactly who they are and exactly who is missing that Tarn wants to find in the stars and in the places they search. 

He evacuated Forestock as soon as he made the connection to the small bot in between the Prime and Tarn in the official photos as "Kaon". He cannot let Tarn get a hold of more people, innocent people, to replay Tarn's own traumas on and mold them like he was.

Any Decepticon he knows Tarn had a special connection to is sent as far away and as securely hidden as Soundwave can make them. He only wishes his spy would leave as well or he could hide away Megatron, perhaps one of the biggest targets.

Soundwave though protects those he can and Lockdown is always willing to help smuggle high value targets off planets to what small havens Soundwave is forming. His goal is to keep escape routes and one day evacuation routes for their entire faction to flee, but he won't leave, none of them will, while there is still hope.

Something Tarn is helping the Prime surgically crush and the Waves blame themselves for entirely.

Soundwave is the one who realizes that something is going give when Shockwave, loud bright and so hopeful, proposes a weapon. They are all shocked and Megatron says, very quietly, "You are not a weapons designer." Shockwave says he is now and they are all concerned and reports come in and after hearing the casualties and atrocities Megatron with a heavy heart agrees they have to attack first and stop this escalation and destroy the space bridge no matter the cost.

He accepts the fusion cannon that Shockwave has presented him with and requests an upgrade.

Ohhh the poor sg Decepticons.

WaitNoNotTheColonies

Yeahhh they're terrified of him. He's capable of such horrific stuff.

Ohh... the cons are taking this hard

.mmnn fuck the kidnapping of well kids.

Good plan Soundwave good plan

And this is how the fusion cannon enters the picture, along with the plan to destroy the spacebridge

[glitteringcrab]

Is it me or does Evil Morty look kinda traumatized after killing this one Rick?

He was super focused before but then he remains in the exact same position for a second while Rick C-137 nonchalantly retracts his own weapon:

And then he looks even more troubled for a moment:

I mean, it's hard to tell because of the eyepatch, but compare his expression with when he killed other Ricks:

Here he looks kinda sad; or maybe just spent. In a lets-get-this-over-with way. His expression doesn't change after Nice Rick dies.

After killing Dianebot (okay not a Rick, but still a stressful moment) he's like, "whatever":

And he doesn't even bother to spare a glance towards Rick Prime:

But it seems like the death of that one unkempt Rick did not sit very well with him.

It seems unlikely that he was bothered by the sheer brutality of it, after all he's done.

One explanation is that he was tense, waiting for the next trap/opponent/threat/jumpscare, but that concern would also be valid after Nice Rick's death and Dianebot's destruction, and he was very chill for both moments (even after Dianebot exploded!! He didn't even flinch!!).

...You know, I've been wondering what Puppetmaster Rick's mental state would be after his unexpected escape from the Machine of Unspeakable Doom (if he, of course (a) exists (b) was indeed sentenced there (c) was reset when portal travelers were reset and is still alive). I imagine that after what essentially consisted years of non-stop torture, he might not be... exactly right in the head. My mental image of him was of a Rick blubbering, cowering from his own shadow, terrified of the possibility of Citadel Ricks appearing out of thin air to arrest him again. Possibly naked. Having an assortment of tics. Frothing at the mouth at the idea of his old sidekick.

I also imagined he started off in the worst possible state right after his escape and then progressively got better as he spent more time away from the Machine of Unspeakable Doom... But I still imagined him being distinctly off. Maybe the idea of revenge against his old sidekick grounding him, giving him focus, but him still being poorly groomed, dirty, visibly not right in the head.

...Not very unlike Unkempt Rick above.

And if Eyepatch Morty is monitoring Puppetmaster Rick to make sure he's safe for the time being (you know, like Rick Prime knew Rick C-137 was squatting in his house) then he might have seen video footage of him (probably as little as possible). I admit this is a stretch because in the above theory Puppetmaster Rick is terrified of the Citadel and is hiding himself as much as possible, so theoretically Eyepatch Morty might be unable to get any reading on him. It is possible though that he knows what Puppetmaster Rick currently (or recently) looks like.

I'm wondering if at that moment when Unkempt Rick fell to the ground Eyepatch Morty was reminded of his previous tormentor. If he was transported momentarily back to the hell from which he had escaped. If he was reminded that he won't be able to kill the nightmare Rick hounding him as easily as this one, because of the mental restraints still effective in his implant.

...Maybe I'm extremely off the mark here, but I still do think his expression here is... unexpectedly troubled.

Edit: maybe not. I re-watched the scene and with audio on it seems like Eyepatch Morty is just reacting to what Rick Prime was saying at that moment.

[textbook-machismo]

SAVED BY A SIREN

Chapter 1: Off at Sea

Pairing: Crosshairs/Drift

___________________________________

The sea was calm. Everything was quiet, not even the call of a seagull was heard. It was a peaceful day at sea. A sudden groan interrupted the silence. One of the crewmates was looking over the edge of the ship, staring into the big blue sea with a dull expression. It was a boring day for him, in fact, its been a boring 4 months! There was absolutely nothing to do but talk to the same people and make sure that everything was secure and in good condition.

He let out another groan before taking a step back away from the edge, looking over at his other crewmate, who was sitting on the wooden floor leaning against a barrel eating an orange.

"Oi Hound! What are we even doin' out here for? We've been at see for at least 4 bleedin' months now and Ahm gettin' irritated!"

Hound just sighed while chucking the orange peels away, looking back at Crosshairs.

"I told you this already. There is something very valuable out there and Prime wants us to gather the item before the Cons do, otherwise we will be in deep trouble."

"Yea yea just watch yerself on those rations aight? We got a limited supply and there's no land for miles." Crosshairs said, folding his arms over his chest.

Hound rolled his eyes and went back to eating his piece of fruit in silence. Crosshairs just shook his head before walking over to where the rest of his crewmates were standing.

Bee and Hotrod were currently chatting with the Captain of the AutoShip about where this valuable object might be. All three are close. Bee and Hotrod are brothers and before joining Captain Prime they were just two small orphans stuck on the streets. They were actually one of the first to be part of his Crew and were basically raised by the Captain.

Crosshairs was the second to join. He was just minding his own business one day, fixing up a couple of spears and other supplies for other sailors. That same day Captain Prime arrived for some rope and steel and had also asked if Crosshairs was keen on joining him and his small Crew. At first he wasn't sure since he was more comfortable on working by himself, but once Prime gave him the massive payment he changed his mind and gathered his things.

Hound was the final one to join. They don't really remember why he came along, but he did. Yup. They were a small Crew indeed.

Captain Prime did have a Crew a long time ago, but they did not survive. His first mate, Jazz and his weapons supplier, Ironhide were killed in a battle between the Cons, his close friend Ratchet was murdered in his sleep when they returned home to rest. Captain Prime was devastated, but he had to move on, no matter how painful the memories were.

Crosshairs made his way over to his Captain with a serious look. Prime noticed Crosshairs presence and excused himself before turning into Cross' direction now focused on him.

"Is there something that's bothering you Crosshairs?"

Crosshairs folded his arms again meeting the Captain's tired eyes

"Exactly how long do ya think we are gonna be searchin' for this...whatever the bloody hell it is that yer after?"

"I do not know exactly, but we cannot give up and let this treasure fall into the hands of those who are part of the Decepticon Crew. If it does..we are doomed..lives will be lost..."

Crosshairs sighed and shook his head, resting his weight on one leg

"But we've been stuck here on this bleedin' boat for months! What if we never find it ey? What if this 'treasure' never existed in the first place-"

"Crosshairs enough..! As long as you are part of this crew you will help us. If not, you will end up like Chargewire.." He said, now with a stern look.

Crosshairs grumbled under his breath avoiding the Captain's stare. Chargewire was also one of Captain Prime's old crewmates. She suddenly went missing after Ironhide's death, blaming Prime for her partner's death. He heard stories about her, but he never met her.

"Whatever. Ah'll see ya in the mornin' or whenever.."

Cross fluffed out his coat before opening the hatch, climbing in. Inside the ship everyone had a small spot to claim as their own. He made his way over to his spot in the far corner further away from everyone. He laid down in his hammock letting out a sigh while looking through the small cracked window. It was still noon but Crosshairs already felt tired so he just placed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, drifting off into slumber.

[quill-of-thoth]

Letters From Watson: The Adventure of the Second Stain

Published: 1904 Set: October 1886 [Baring-Gould] any time in the fall of 1886, 1887, or 1888 by my timeline. Remote possibility that it’s 1885 or earlier.

Publication Dates A fun note on publication timelines before we get into my analysis of the actual year this was set: this is the final short story in the second batch of published short stories. The first batch was collected into two groups (Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes) and published on a more or less monthly schedule from 1891 to 1893. There’s a five month gap between the stories published as Adventures, and those published as Memoirs, but between Memoirs and the first publication of the stories that would be in Casebook, there’s a full decade, interrupted only by the serial publication of the novel The Hound of the Baskervilles. So instead of my usual supposition that all cases have to have occurred before 1891, our now absolute latest possible date of this case is the date of its publication, 1904, though from the introduction in this very story, Holmes has been retired long enough that none of the cases Watson relates are likely to have occurred in 1903.  Another reason to fudge details Based on the more highly secretive nature of this case, it’s unlikely to be recent. We can start from the assumption that if Watson is talking about it, even if the details are heavily fictionalized, the case here is probably at least a decade old. As we can rule out the period of 1891-1894, when the first twenty five cases were published, for reasons I’ll discuss when we get closer to that point in the timeline, it is not unreasonable at all for Baring-Gould to assume that this case occurred sometime between 1881 and 1891. (Year and decade that will remain nameless indeed...) We can, however, track the decade by Lord Bellinger, which is not the actual name of any Victorian politician. However, Robert Gascoyne-Cecil fits the bill as a man who was Prime Minister twice during the reign of Queen Victoria. His terms were June 1885-January 1886 and July 1886 to August 1892, meaning that he lasted significantly longer than a head of lettuce. Presuming that Baring-Gould takes “Bellinger” as his pseudonym and that Watson intends to tell us that the man is already in his second term, October 1886 is a plausible date. Additionally, the sitting room at Baker Street is referred to as “ours,” so according to my count this has to be before Watson’s marriage. The case is also stated to take place in Autumn, which is likely not revealing enough to be intentionally misleading. On the other hand, we have three cases crammed into October 1886 according to Baring Gould, presumably to fit all of the cases that mention Holmes and Watson living together in before the first marriage that Baring-Gould proposes for Watson. It is not certain that Watson left Baker Street before 1888. It is also possible that the case predates “Bellinger’s” second term in office. Watson is writing this up at least fifteen years later, and has good reason to fudge the details: giving details referring to the politician being fictionalized that would not have been known at the time of the case is a plausible way of doing that.  It’s also possible that Watson indicated the wrong politician entirely, to throw us all off the scent. Yes, he may have had less professional reputation to go on, but if Roylott recognizing him in 1883 in The Speckled Band wasn’t entirely invented, Holmes wasn’t completely unknown. He could have a reputation for detection good enough to attract government attention years before Watson’s marriage. Plus, you must remember that his brother was very well regarded within the government before 1991: perhaps if Mycroft was in the know about this particular problem and recommended Holmes to solve it, that may have elevated his reputation.

[true-blue-sonic]

Your mention of Silver actively tracking Nega down to stop him when Sonic always stops Eggman despite not actively looking for him most of the time (stuff like Colors is the exception and not the rule) made me realize the difference between the Eggmans. Eggman wants to stop Sonic above all else, he wants everyone to see him take Sonic out, and so he's going to advertise his plots when it's time. Eggman Nega doesn't have that mentality from what we see of him in the Rush and Rivals games, he seems content to do things behind the scenes. It feels like it'd take awhile for this to really sink in for Silver, wouldn't it?

I'm not so well-versed on many of the older games and ones that Silver is not in, but I believe Eggman indeed has the tendency to pop up like "sup bitches I got the Emeralds and am going to unleash a monster now and here's my epic robot army too, have fun trying to stop me :>" or something along those lines when the Emeralds are already taken, the monster is getting unleashed that very moment, and the robot army is already completed. In any case, Eggman is always already busy. To give some examples: in Sonic 1, he'd already captured plenty of animal friends to put in his robots and such. In Sonic CD he'd already captured and begun terraforming Little Planet. In Unleashed he's got a whole armada high up in the sky, primed and ready. And in Sonic Adventure 2, he freed Shadow without anyone of the good guys knowing what was going on, with Shadow's likelihood to Sonic being the catalyst to getting the heroes involved. Generally, the heroes don't actively chase him down before he can form a new plan or begin building a new army and such: only when he is quite a ways already do they end up involved, it seems.

It is more difficult for me to pinpoint whether the same applies for Silver, namely whether he also comes in when Nega is already busy or if he tries to intervene before Nega can pull something off and just happens to be too late. The reason for that is that Silver only tends to come onto the scene when Eggman Nega has been busy already in both Rivals games, but he's got awareness of his plans already and directly states he 'comes from the future' to bring Nega back to their own era. And Nega's plans can only be acted out in the past (getting rid of Eggman, unleashing the Ifrit), however Silver manages to be there without fail to stop him: how does he know what Nega is up to and that he has gone to the past and why if he didn't somehow kep an eye on him? For example, in Rivals 1 Eggman had already been trapped in a card, but Silver is well aware of what Nega's camera can do and is hounding Nega down to get him back to the future. And in Rivals 2, they're collecting Chao at the same time, it seems like. I think Eggman Nega might try to be more discreet, but Silver's long learned that he is not to be trusted and always has a new plan brewing. I feel like it would be an interesting contrast between Silver and his friends if he is more active and they are more reactive when it comes to stopping the local mad scientist from taking over/destroying everything, since it would suit his role as person from the future coming to the past to ensure things don't go to hell, but I do not have much concrete proof from the games for that, unfortunately.

[rgraves1]

Oedipus and the Sphinx by Gustave Moreau (1864). Source: Wikipedia

Oedipus, Part 2

Hera had recently had recently sent the Sphinx to punish Thebes for Laius’s abduction of the boy Chrysippus from Pisa and, settling on Mount Phicium, close to the city, she now asked every Theban wayfarer a riddle taught her by the Three Muses: ‘What being, with only one voice, has sometimes two feet, sometimes three, sometimes four, and is weakest when it has the most?’ Those who could not solve the riddle she throttled and devoured on the spot, among which unfortunates was Iocaste’s nephew Haemon, whom the Sphinx made haimon, or ‘bloody’ indeed. (Oedipus, The Greek Myths by Robert Graves, pp 371-377).

Oedipus was equal to the task, telling the Sphinx that the answer was ‘Man’ because he crawled on all fours as an infant, walked on two legs in his prime but needed the help of a stick in old age. The mortified Sphinx was so distraught at her cunning riddle finally being solved that she flung herself from Mount Phicium to her death on the rocks below. Oedipus journeyed on to Thebes where he was greeted as a hero and proclaimed king. He immediately married Iocaste, unaware that she was actually his mother.

A plague eventually afflicted Thebes and the Delphic Oracle proclaimed it would only be lifted if the murderer of Laius was expelled from the city. This confused the Thebans until the respected blind seer Teiresias arrived at court and told a shocked Oedipus that he was the killer of Laius and that he had married his own mother. Iocaste immediately hanged herself at the revelation and Oedipus put out his own eyes. Oedipus left Thebes in shame accompanied by his faithful daughter Antigone. His end was tragic, hounded to his death by the vengeful Furies in Attica. Theseus took responsibility for burying the former king.

Graves suggests that Oedipus’ marriage to Iocaste had less to do with confused sexuality and actually reflected the forcible replacement of the matrilineal rule in Thebes with that of male god-worshipping conquerors.

[hplovecraftmuseum]

I was curious regarding Robert Bloch's tale, THE SHAMBLER FROM THE STARS, which first appeared in the Sept 1935 issue of Weird Tales. Bloch was barely 18 years old when the tale was printed. Did Bloch's story mention the narrator's name? Did the 'Free Will Church' of Lovecraft's subsequent tale, THE HAUNTER OF THE DARK get a first mention in the Bloch tale? Did Bloch mention any particular alien 'gods' or books invented beforehand by Lovecraft? Was Cthulhu sited? Was Lovecraft's demonic figure Nyarlathotep mentioned? How similar was Bloch's protagonist to the same individual as Lovecraft described him in THE HAUNTER OF THE DARK? The answers are interesting and somewhat surprising. In Bloch's, THE SHAMBLER FROM THE STARS, Cthulhu and Nyarlathotep are not included. Oddly perhaps, Bloch mentions 'father Yig' instead. Yig was featured origionally in several 'revision' tales Lovecraft ghost-wrote for another client. Lovecraft's famed, and fictional Necronomicon does get a mention in Bloch's tale. Bloch added a myterious tome of his own to Lovecraft's own developing mythology. This book was allegedly the work of one Ludvig Prinn, and was called De Vermis Myteriis (The Mysteries of the Worm). The fictionalized version of Lovecraft himself who the nameless protagonist of Bloch's origional "SHAMBLER" tale features lives in a colonial (Georgian) house in Providence RI but the windows set at either side of the real Lovecraft dwelling become one large window in the home of his fictional stand-in. What perhaps is most different when we compare Bloch's story to the one Lovecraft wrote in answer to it was the nature of the young man whom Lovecraft would call, Robert Blake instead of Robert Bloch. As Bloch describes his own nameless protagonist he is indeed a struggling writer and artist, but his character comes off as quite a bit more bizzare, eccentric and even downright perverse in his lust for morbidity and tomb accessories. In Bloch's version of the young seeker the man has much more in common with the 'gentleman tomb-robbers' of HPL's story THE HOUND than with the youth Lovecraft would name, Robert Blake. Certainly the nameless youth of Bloch's tale would seem to be a prime choice for such a dangerous and 'cosmic' entity as the demonic creature hiding out in the steeple of the dark and deserted church to try and invade. The church to the West of Lovecraft's actual residence on College Hill was a catholic structure that was eventually boarded up and torn down in the 1990s. It was called St. John's Catholic Church and not the "Free Will Church" as in HPL's tale. For the teenaged Bloch to produce a tale like THE SHAMBLER FROM THE STARS was pretty remarkable. While not great it was certainly better than most of the stuff that was printed in the pulp magazine, WEIRD TALES. Having said that Lovecraft's answer to Bloch's effort was really a remarkable creation, steeped in atmosphere and complex yet easily readable. The Haunter of the Dark was the very last of HPL's original stories. He had stopped creating tales of his own for the last two years of his life. Bloch in youthful audacity killed off a fictional version of HPL in 'SHAMBLER' and Lovecraft returned the favor by killing Bloch/Blake in THE HAUNTER OF THE DARK. By the way there is an amusing mock document that Lovecraft created for Bloch giving him permission to murder his fictional persona. Below is the origional 1935 illustration by Vincent Napoli of Bloch's tale, THE SHAMBLER FROM THE STARS. By the way Robert Bloch and H. P. Lovecraft never actually met face to face. (Exhibit 434)

[artsy-hobbitses]

I'm sorry in advance this is a lot of questions! How many and what languages does everyone understand? Which ones do they speak? Is there anyone who isn't very good at English and needs someone to translate for them from time to time? Also, does Rung know like... Every language since he's an AI? If yes does he help the team translate things if needed?

Don't worry about it! Helps me with worldbuilding at any rate.

-Cracks knuckles-

First mention will be mother tongue, followed by other known languages going down a proficiency scale. Italics for understanding some aspects, but not necessarily speaking. If English is in the third spot, they usually (at least initially) have a hard time expressing themselves with it and need translation help.  Rung is indeed a lexicon of languages and helps out where he can! 

AUTOBOTS

Optimus Prime: Kurmanji, English, Arabic, Urdu Ultra Magnus: Hindi, English, Urdu Ratchet: English, French, Yoruba Jazz: English, Spanish, Mandarin, Arabic Ironhide: English, Spanish Prowl: Mandarin, Cantonese, English, Hakka, Uyghur, Igbo Perceptor: English, Tamil Wheeljack: English, Spanish Hot Rod: English, Irish Gaeilge WindBlade: Japanese, English, Korean Chromia: English, Spanish Ramhorn: Malay, English Kup: Nepali, Hindi, English Drift: Japanese, English Blaster: Cantonese, English, Mandarin Hound: Scots (Shetland dialect), English Bumblebee: English Mirage: English, Welsh, French Nautica: Spanish, English Sunstreaker/Sideswipe: Italian, English Trailbreaker: Malay-Indonesian, English, Hakka Nightbeat: English, Swahili, Arabic, Mandarin Springer: English, Nepali, Mandarin Swerve: English Arcee: Hakka, Mandarin, English, Cantonese Alpha Trion: French, English, Italian, Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, Arabic, Hindi Skids: Omniglot due to Outlier ability: Most European, Slavic and Middle-eastern and Chinese languages, Japanese, Malay/Indonesian. Currently learning others. Roadbuster: Armenian, English Ironfist: Russian, English Broadside: Turkish, Arabic, English Impactor: English, Arabic Whirl: German, English Swoop: Polish, English

DECEPTICONS

Megatron: English, Scottish Gaellic, Urdu Shockwave: Urdu, English, Hindi Starscream: Italian, English, Japanese Skywarp: Arabic, English Thundercracker: Spanish, English Ravage: Spanish, English, Norwegian Soundwave: English, Indonesian-Malay, Spanish, Norwegian, German, Mandarin Laserbeak: Norwegian, English, Spanish Buzzsaw: French, English Glit: Korean, English Barricade: English Tarn: English, French, Urdu, Uzbek Kaon: English, Irish Gaeilge Nickel: Italian, English Helex: Danish, English Tesarus: Spanish, English Vos: French, Arabic

NON-ALIGNED

Senator Proteus: English Dai Atlas: Igbo, Japanese, English Rung: Ultimate Omniglot Terminus: English Elita One: Russian, English Trepan: English 

[fuckyeahwomeninhistory]

Virginia Hall (1902-1982)

In early September 1941, a young American woman arrived in Vichy France on a clandestine and perilous mission. She had been tasked with organizing local resistance networks against France’s German occupiers and communicating intelligence to the Special Operations Executive (SOE), the fledgling British secret service that had recruited her. In reality, however, Virginia Hall’s supervisors were not particularly hopeful about her prospects; they didn’t expect her to survive more than a few days in a region teeming with Gestapo agents.

At the time, Hall admittedly made for an unlikely spy. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s war cabinet had forbidden women from the frontlines, and some within the SOE questioned whether Hall was fit to be operating in the midst of a resistance operation. It wasn’t just her gender that was an issue: Hall was also an amputee, having lost her left leg several years earlier following a hunting accident. She relied on a prosthetic, which she dubbed “Cuthbert,” and walked with a limp, making her dangerously conspicuous. Indeed, Hall quickly became known as the “Limping Lady” of Lyon, the French city where she set up base.

[...]

Hall didn’t just survive the wartime years under constant threat of capture, torture and death; she also played a crucial role in recruiting large networks of resistance fighters and directing their assistance to the Allied invasion. Among the secret operatives who adored her and the Nazis who hounded her, Hall was legendary for her gutsy, cinematic feats. She broke 12 of her fellow agents out of an internment camp, evaded the treachery of a double-crossing priest and, once her pursuers began to close in, made an arduous trek over the Pyrenees into Spain—only to return to France to resume the fight for its freedom.

Source: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-spy-known-limping-lady-helped-allies-win-wwii-180971889/

[dailycharacteroption]

Colluding Scoundrel (Hunter Archetype)

(art by RawArt3D on Deviantart)

 Plenty of archetypes in Antihero’s Handbook can be unlikeable. Their methods, after all, do not lend themselves to a positive image.

Today’s entry, however, seems geared towards pissing off the animal lover in us all. Hell, the art of it shows a prim and snooty noblewoman archer without a scratch on her or her outfit next to her scarred and surly hunting hound.

Indeed, for the way that the colluding scoundrel works is they use their own allies, particularly their companion, as both bait and meat shield, letting them line up the perfect shot while their prey is distracted.

Certainly, other combatants that prefer to be off the front line do the same in theory, but these scoundrels actively make it easier for foes to target their allies or companions, putting them in greater danger in the name of their own glory.

At best, such strategy can be worked out beforehand and be consensual, but in most cases, particularly with their animal companion, they are exploitative and dangerous.

Yet for some with a less than perfect moral compass, the benefits of doing so might be worth it.

 By using another as a living shield, or urging them into a position to take on a foe head-on within their reach, these hunters can make it hard for a foe to focus on other targets while making their chosen scapegoat a prime target. The scapegoat can only do so a few times a day without being suspected, however, except when it comes to their companion.

That precarious position, however, opens up the scoundrel to take shots at the foe’s most vulnerable points, dealing grievous harm.

The most powerful, however, can potentially slay a foe distracted by their scapegoat in a single blow, taking perfect advantage of an opening.

A simple archetype, but one that uses underhanded tactics to gain the edge in damage and potentially keep damage off of more vulnerable targets, though not quite as appreciated from an in-universe perspective. The betrayal feats, as well as the “faulty” teamwork feats from Antihero’s Handbook are certainly appealing here, but are not absolutely necessary, and a more benevolent variant of this archetype will choose teamwork feats and support spells to make sure that their scapegoat ally is not quite as vulnerable as they seem.

 For many, this archetype may remain squarely in the territory of villain-only archetypes, but I know there are some who will enjoy an antihero or otherwise dubious character option like this. They might be the leader of an expedition that believes their allies are expendable, or at least, can be used as fodder. Alternatively, they might be someone who doesn’t really understand empathy due to how they were raised, but perhaps they could learn. Others might be utterly irredeemable, but maintain their place in the party by being indispensable.

  Over the years, gnolls have begun to step out of the shadow of the Mother of Monsters, becoming their own people. Not so with the Sun Eater clan, who adhere to the old ways, led by a fierce and self-serving hunter called Klaaz, who always seems to have a bodyguard or foot soldier, or even his hyena companion, between him and would-be attackers.

 Eager for glory, but deeply fearful of pain and death, Vulkin von Marius has spend a considerable fortune to find ways to protect himself when he adventures, training his hounds to distract foes, buying all manner of magical defenses. Now, however, he seeks to acquire a sapphire ooze, an extradimensional servant of the upper planes capable of shapeshifting into living armor. However, such oozes only bind to the virtuous, something that he falls quite sort of. That will not dissuade him from trying more extreme methods of securing cooperation, though.

 Lured out to the secluded and inaccessible valley retreat of a noble, the party finds themselves trapped in the wilderness of the valley, hunted by their contact in a perverse parody of a big game hunt. In their fight for survival, they will have to deal with the noble’s henchmen, traps, her hound, and of course, herself, and she gleefully sacrifices those below her if it means lining up that perfect kill-shot against the most dangerous game.

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 7

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At least their purchases were found undamaged. That was a little upside to the disaster of the supervillain attack. Marinette suspected Tikki might’ve had something to do with this, but didn’t comment. Police kept the rope dart as evidence, but they promised to return it as soon as it was possible. Marinette gave Gordon her number (after the commissioner was vouched for by Damian) and number to her mother. It was a possibility that she would’ve been called to court to testify. She was a prime witness and while her involvement declared only self-defense, Gordon told her in all honesty that the lawyer might try to put some blame on her. It was a sad reality, but Damian reassured both his beloved and the commissioner that they would be prepared. Waynes kept a contingent of lawyers not without reason. 

The teens were picked up by Alfred before the press figured out who the mysterious hero of the day was. Marinette really didn’t need more lights on her. It was enough that she agreed to make her relationship with Damian Wayne public at the gala. Objectively, she knew it was a better option than for the press to learn from students of Gotham Academy. Inside, she was dreading the event anyway. 

When they arrived at the manor, Sabine, Tom, and Bruce were waiting for them. The girls launched themselves at the woman and she pulled them into a hug. Damian followed slowly, not revealing any emotions. 

“I received a call from Jim,” Bruce began once they were behind the closed doors, “something about Firefly and brave teens stopping the attack.” He looked at all three of them with a judging glare. It wasn’t that he was disappointed, but it made the teens feel under deep scrutiny.

“It was all me!” Marinette confessed immediately. “He stopped us from escaping and we were with a bunch of kids. I just acted and I might have kinda accidentally… defeated him.” She spoke very fast. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. We’re not angry or anything.” Sabine quickly reassured her while sending a glare at Bruce.

“Well… Yes.” The billionaire nodded slowly. “But you could’ve been more careful.”

“Ridiculous!” Chloé stared at the Wayne patriarch. “Utterly ridiculous! Of course, Dupain-Cheng could’ve just run away and left those poor lost kids to die, but she stayed.”

“I didn’t mean…” The man tried to speak, but the blonde ignored him. 

“But no! Mr. Batman thinks that suddenly protecting others without the suit is somehow wrong. I didn’t see you on the scene at all. There was Red Hood, but he arrived there only after Mari already took out that flying pyromaniac.”

“I just…”

“So don’t go off on us preaching safety when you have your kids running on the rooftops every night.” 

“But…” Bruce had no idea what just happened. He only wanted to congratulate them…

“I did get all the fabrics I will need, but we didn’t get to eat.” Mari decided to change the subject and spare her father-in-law further humiliation at Chloé’s hands.

“The lunch will be ready in five minutes. You can take it in the dining room.” Alfred spoke from behind Bruce, startling the poor billionaire. It was apparently not his day. 

When the group moved there and took their seats, joined by Cass, who was the only other permanent resident of the Manor, Marinette decided on the next subject. 

“And how did the Class trip go?” She asked her mother with a bright smile. The woman sent her a tired look in response. 

“They are monsters. I sympathize with their parents if that’s how they act every day…” 

“They can’t be that bad, love.” Tom tried to defend the kids, but several stares from around the room would kill him if it was possible. “I meant can. My English is bad. I meant can.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“That Lila girl is indeed a talented manipulator when she is not going overboard. If I didn’t know her, I might’ve actually fallen for her lies. And she even doesn’t resort to lies anymore.” 

“What?!” Marinette was glad that she only got the lunch served and didn’t yet eat anything. “No way!” 

“Yes. It looks like she established herself as an internet star to the point where she is somewhat famous.” 

“Tt. She is still a harlot.” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“The modeling for the Gabriel brand and Ladyblog. Outside of Paris, it would make her into a star of some internet super-hero show in addition to a front-page model!” Marinette was suddenly enlightened. “I can’t believe her lies actually worked!” She collapsed in her chair, resigned. “Guess lying did work for her in the end…” Her face took a look of a beaten puppy.

“Say a word, Angel, and we can make you into three times the star she might be,” Damian spoke and Chloé nodded in agreement. 

“It’s not that!” The bluenette tried to protest. “I just… Her lies hurt people. I told her that it wouldn’t work in the long run, and she proved me wrong ten times over…” 

“Lila… bad.” Cass frowned. “Hurt Nettie.”

“Cass…” The girl tried to say something, but her cousin continued.

“I will… hurt Lila.” She stated confidently. 

“No!” Marinette protested. “I’ve got enough trouble stopping Damian and my mom!” 

“She is bad,” Cass stated confidently. 

“Cassandra.” Bruce glared at his daughter, but before he could explain things to her, Sabine intervened. 

“Sweetie, I appreciate you wanting to help Mari, but we must also respect her wishes. Even if I already have a place chosen… Never mind.” She smiled brightly before anyone questioned her. 

The whole table exploded into laugher while Damian and Cass smiled wider than usual. It was just such… a familial scene. Like they weren’t a bunch of superheroes, but a happy family. Even if the talk was about murder. 

----------

In a dark, damp room two people stood opposite one another. The male figure had a dark purple suit with the signature butterfly brooch pinned to the top of the shirt. His chest was protected by two black flaps that looked a bit like the moth wings. In his black gloves, he held a cane topped with a purple orb. The face was covered by a simple domino mask that did nothing to hide the mane of blonde hair on top of his head. 

On the opposite was a woman in a dark-blue dress that hugged her figure very tightly. The clothing ended barely above her bust, continuing with a sparkly net that was almost translucent. From under the cut starting just below the belt, her legs were also visible and covered in the same sparkly net. The blue/purple of her skin clashed slightly with the dress, but the sparkles of the fancy net managed to offset it to the point it was barely noticeable. Her deep-blue hair was pinned back into a rather messy bun with two long strands framing her face.

“Are you sure?” The young man asked. 

“Don’t worry,” she dismissed. “My grandma reassured me that this is perfectly safe. Besides, it’s too late to stop now.” She grinned and pointed her folded fan at the ground. When she unfolded it, several candles lit with pink flames, bathing the room in an eerie light. The light reached to three bodies laid in circles drawn with their blood. The two figures in the center were also in a runic circle. 

“The bond will not interfere with my Princess?”

“Whatever that vile American did to her must have hurt her badly. You do want to save her and lift the curse, right?” She grinned when there was a new fire in his eyes. “And I told you about my demands.”

“I’m still not convinced.” He glared at her. “And I told your grandfather that his demands are ridiculous.” 

“They are my demands.” She corrected him in an amused voice. “If you don’t want my help…” 

“Fine. I will do it.” He suddenly closed the distance between them until they were face to face. “But don’t even try to trick me. I’ll know and I will end you. Nothing will stop me from getting what I want.” 

In response, she gave him a quick peck on the lips. Immediately, the boy recoiled. She just licked her lips. “Whatever you want, beloved.”

“Ugh. Let’s just get done with this.” 

The candles went out one by one when the female chanted in Latin. When the twelfth and last one died out, the room was once more dark. Then, the runes lit and red light enveloped both of them. She reached to the center and grabbed a small goblet. After taking a sip, she handed it to the boy. 

He hesitated for a moment, but then also took a sip. They were both enveloped in deep scarlet light until it died out and both of them fell unconscious on the ground.

----------

Marinette and Chloé had to go with the class for the next trip, which was to the Botanic Garden. Damian and surprisingly Cass also joined them. And this was how the class almost signed their death warrant and handed it to Sabine. 

As soon as the guide started speaking about various plants they had there, Alya and Lila started gossiping in the back. 

“...told you she was a…”

“...I can’t believe he would…”

“...and that black-haired…”

“If it was up to…”

“I bet she just…”

“Maybe it’s a thing here?” 

Finally, Sabine had enough. She asked the guide for a five minutes break to rein in the misbehaving group. Caline tried to protest, but she was silenced when the older woman looked her in the eyes with fires of fury. 

“Listen up, because I’m not going to be repeating myself.” She started. “Cassandra is my niece, who lives in Gotham. By a lucky turn of events, she turned out to know Damian and agreed to accompany me and Marinette today.” She glared at every student in the group. Sabine noted that Alix stood alone in the back, separate from Max and Kim. “She is a precious little bean and if any of you dare to say anything bad about her again without even trying to talk to her first, I will personally see to it that your trip will be very-” She made sure to put emphasis on the word “-unpleasant. And if you even think about hounding her, I will see you suspended.”

“Now… Sabine, I think you’re…” Madame Bustier tried to defuse the situation.

“Caline. It is, and always will be for you, Madame Cheng. I’m on this trip to make sure they behave. If you’re not going to help me, try not to make my job harder than it already is.” She huffed and looked back at the class. “Am I understood?”

Several barely audible “Yes” could’ve been heard if someone tried hard enough. 

“Good for now.” Sabine looked at their guide. “I’m sorry I had to interrupt.” 

“No worries Mrs. Cheng.” The woman chuckled. “Anyone who tries to badmouth Cassandra or anyone from her family deserves your wrath.” 

“Good. We can continue.” And so the group moved on. 

Lila decided to change the subject of her lies and now kept talking about how good friends she was with Damian Wayne, or rather her Damiboo. It was clear that their guide wanted to add something, but Marinette’s boyfriend made a gesture to stop him. The grin on his face made it clear he had different plans.

After they finished the trip, the class was placed in the bus with Sabine while Damian and the girls were left free to wander around. Some tried to protest, but one murderous glare from Madame Cheng shut them up hard. 

“Why Marinette and Chloé are allowed to wander around with some boy, while we are confined to the Hotel!?” Kim protested. 

“Yeah! Lila can’t even meet her boyfriend!”

“It’s simple.” Sabine cut them off. “Marinette and Chloé are staying with Damian’s family, which is their host family for this trip. You will be meeting your host families after the new year.” She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing some more salt into Lila’s wound. She might be an adult, but it doesn’t stop her from being petty sometimes. Especially when someone decides to speak badly about her favorite (and hopefully only) niece. “If your… Damiboo was missing you so much, you could’ve asked him to invite you. Cassandra said he is attending Gotham Academy. I’m sure he would love to have you stay with him at Wayne Penthouse.” 

“Oh! He did want me so badly with them, but we agreed that it would be better for me to get to know some of his friends.” Lila answered quickly and Damian had to stiffen a groan. How could someone be so dense? 

“Suuure.” Sabine grinned. “Then please don’t complain about the situation of your own making.” It was clear that the discussion was over. Damian, Marinette, Chloé, and Cass were left to their own device. 

“Chlo, I love you like the best friend you are,” Mari started when they were alone, “but Damian’s got a date planned. So bye!” She said before running off with her husband, leaving the flabbergasted blonde and the noirette alone.

“Ice cream?” Cass pleaded.

“Fine. I guess I can hang out with you then.” 

“Ice Cream!” The other girl almost jumped in the air. 

----------

The couple walked through the gardens in silence, holding hands and enjoying the cool air around them. The temperature was warmer than outside, but still rather frosty. Marinette, feeling bolder, dragged Damian’s hand down slightly and pulled him closer to her. She cuddled into his shoulder and smiled. After dealing with the class, it was nice to have some peace, only the two of them. 

“So…” She started with a grin. “Wayne penthouse?”

“Tt. For your information, it’s where Drake and Brown live.”

“But Damiboo! You wound me! And I thought we could stay there together.” Marinette did her best Lila impression. 

He tried to scowl, but the end result was an unholy mix between scowling and grinning. 

They wandered around, laughing at occasional jokes and generally enjoying the time. At some point, Marinette dragged him to a hot-dog cart to enjoy what she called a ‘taste of America’. He couldn’t help but smile at some of her antics. They stopped for some coffee to rest their legs. He allowed her to talk most of the time, listening to all the details of her new outfit for Jagged Stone. 

“...so I decided to replace half of the usual silver studs with golden ones. Or rather gold-colored. He doesn’t actually like the wealth display that much and is all for replacing it with cheaper ones. When his producer one time tried to force me to make him everything with the actual gold, Jagged signed it and immediately donated it to The Gotham Orphanage.”

“I remember.” Damian’s memory flashed him an article about it. “And don’t be modest. It held your signature too.” 

“Well… He wanted to throw it to Fang first. It was so much not his style.” She smiled. “Bob almost had a stroke when he learned that he still had to pay for it full price. I think it was actually the first commission I accepted that was not priced like clothes for friends. I did deduce the cost of materials that he provided though.” 

“Habibti. You’re amazing.” 

She blushed at the compliment. “I’m not! I’m just a normal girl.” 

“An amazing normal girl.” 

“How can you be so smooth and so socially awkward at the same time?!” She squeaked.

“Because people are fools. You are perfection incarnated.”

“Stop it!” She giggled. “I’m not! I’m clumsy and awkward.”

“It doesn’t stop you from being perfect.” He countered. Before she could protest, he lifted a cookie and put it in her mouth. She bit it and munched it in silence. When she swallowed, he continued feeding her. In retaliation, she picked some whipped cream and gave it to him. They ended up feeding one another and laughing.

It was slowly getting dark, so they started walking toward where Alfred would pick them up. They still had some time, so Mari dragged Damian into the music store. There was a whole stand for Jagged Stone discs. 

Marinette, feeling devious, pulled out a marker and signed two before handing it to Damian. He thought for a short moment before making a small heart next to her name and putting down his autograph too. They hid the discs behind others and moved on. In the end, Marinette bought some ballet music for Cass that Damian told her she didn’t have yet. The bluenette liked her cousin and wanted to get her something for ditching her with Chloé

When they exited the store, Alfred was waiting there, ready to take them to the Manor. The two sat in the back of the limousine in silence, cuddled together. By the time they arrived at their destination, Marinette had dozed off. Not having the heart to wake her, Damian did his best to gently lift her and carry her to her room. Somewhere along the way, she clutched to him tightly and didn’t let go even when he placed her on the four-poster bed. He sighed. He didn’t know if he would survive the teasing he would receive after someone finds them. Scratch that. Sabine would kill him before that. 

Still, he would have to wake her up. With one more look to make sure the doors were closed, he lied next to her and stared up. He could at least stay awake, right?

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Masterlist // Next

[lunafaeris-archive]

[ WOUND ] // instead of troubled , shao stares like a dead fish NNCDMDN

prompts that make me go 👀 | accepting.

          Well, that could have gone better.

          More than ten years ago, she had made contract with a troubled youth, just barely scraping by during his college days who wanted nothing more than to become the top of his class. Now, she was facing down with the head of a local terrorist cell, specializing in explosives. Money well spent, indeed.

          His personal vendettas or however he felt victimized by the state were irrelevant. Humans and their politics changed by the day over the tiniest of upsets, that if it weren’t for her other clients taking up office and positions in government she couldn’t have cared less. She actually felt pity for this one, as when she met him he seemed so full of promise... and now this. Gathering a bunch of misfits who thought they were going to take the world by storm and tear down the elitist regime just by blowing up a few buildings. How inspired. As if that’s never been done before.

          She had given him the courtesy of confronting him directly with her final warning, to come with her quietly and keep what little remained of his dignity intact. She shouldn’t have given him even that much, but something in her felt compelled to try, a decision she would soon come to regret when she saw his hand dart into his pocket. With the push of a button, she was completely thrown off balance as a chain reaction of explosions blew out the floor from under her, losing her footing and falling down into darkness as the rest of the building collapsed on top of her after it had been turned into a flaming pile of rubble.

          So he thought he could take her out with him. Not the first client who wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, but this one admittedly caught her off guard. She should have had her hell hounds sweep every floor, every corner of the building before even stepping foot into that death trap. But she wanted to get it done quickly, forgoing normal procedure which of course came back to bite her in the ass. She barely managed to dig herself out of the rubble, after falling down several stories and landing on a twisted piece of iron siding, stabbing her through the shoulder.

          “Christ...” She spat out, gritting her teeth as she grabbed the tail end of it, snapping off it in the middle and throwing it out of her reach as her blood flowed freely, staining her down her front. She had been in worse scrapes, each one more annoying than the last but she’d manage. She always did, she thought as she tore off her coat, unbuttoning the top of her blouse and peeling it off just enough to get a good look at the wound. Not bad, seemed like it was already starting to heal over as she let out a sigh of relief, a pent-up breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding... but that all went away as soon as she heard something moving among the rubble, something that was still alive even after all that destruction. Or someone who had just so happened upon her after the fact and decided to take a closer look.

          Shao. Why was she not surprised? Was she out on one of her evening walks? Not that it mattered how and why she wound up here. She was here now, in a prime position to help while doing nothing of the sort, instead climbing on top of the rubble just to poke and prod at the wound in her shoulder, making her seethe and wince and bleed even more profusely without giving it time to close.

                    “... Ha. I know you lot like to play with your food, but this is a bit much.” She huffed, laughter rumbling in her chest before swatting her hand away. “If you wanted to cop a feel, you could have picked a better time. Any other time, really. Or perhaps I could interest you in a thermos so you can take some of it with you? I know my blood is highly prized by the bloodhounds of the underworld... all I’m saying is you could have asked, instead of having to jump through hoops and go to all this trouble.”

@zhuangshii

[clonecest-bin-account]

hey i hope its okay i slap two reqs in here. can you write nsfw for rex/dogma in the verse of meeting and the connected fics? also, dont think ive ever seen it before, but hardcase/hound and grizzer because the mandolorian confirmed that the best quality of massifs are their wiggles and i think theyd be good dog parents (im sorry if you get this twice my internet timed out but im not sure if it sent)

(Don’t worry, I don’t mind the double prompts! I’m going to post the Rex/Dogma one today and the Hardcase/Hound one tomorrow, I hope that’s okay with you!)

(This fic is part of this series)

(Fic under the cut)

The next morning, things are less awkward than they should be: Rex wakes up, joins Dogma - who was already awake - on the couch, mutters a “good morning”, and they stay there for a while, not speaking. Not the worst thing that could’ve happened.

There’s one question hanging in the air, however, and sooner or later, one of them will have to talk about it.

Weirdly enough, it’s Rex the one who speaks up first. “You said we should talk.”

“Yes, I said that,” Dogma calmly replies.

“So… What should we exactly say?” Rex says. Ok, now things are starting to get awkward.

 “Well… I’ll be honest, Rex,” Dogma begins. “Even if I really like it here in the Guard, I always missed you. I always held you in such a high esteem, then Krell came and… and for a moment, that esteem was shattered.” He lowers his gaze. “In the end, I was the one who was wrong. I should’ve seen that coming, and instead I remained blind to everything.”

“Dogma--”

Dogma raises his hand and Rex shuts up immediately.

“I felt like such a disappointment, and when we met again, I thought that I finally had the chance to make it up to you…”

Rex stays silent for a moment, his gaze weighting heavily on Dogma, who even lowers his eyes in order not to look at it. Then, he replies. “Dogma, first of all, you weren’t a disappointment.”

Dogma looks about to retort, but now it’s Rex the one who shushes him. “It was a difficult situation. There’s no need of making it up to me. At least I hope you haven’t stuck with me just because of that--”

“No!” Dogma immediately exclaims. “No, that’s not why I did it! It’s because, along the way, I… I fell. I-In love, I mean…”

“And yet you rejected me yesterday,” Rex points out, tone carefully neutral.

“That’s because I was afraid you were doing it just because you were desperate and I was the only one present, I didn’t--”

“Dogma, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Rex interrupts him, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. “I’ve been harboring the same feelings for a while too. I never said anything before because it never seemed the right moment. I’m sorry I’ve led you to believe that I didn’t return them.”

 Dogma remains silent, observing Rex.

Then, in a flash, he moves, taking Rex’s face between his hands and seizing his lips. The other falls back for the surprise, landing with his back on the couch, and Dogma takes advantage of this to sit on his lap without stopping kissing him. Rex, however, doesn’t stay still, and after grabbing Dogma by the hips, he responds in kind, kissing back with the same force.

He makes a whine escape Dogma’s lips when he takes his lower lip between his teeth and sucks, making him tremble from head to toe. “Reeeex,” he whines, grinding his body against the other’s. Rex can already feel a small bulge pressing against his own.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me.”

Rex wasn’t expecting Dogma to be this direct, but kriff if it isn’t hot. “Do you have slick?” he asks, and Dogma nods.

Oh, he’s going to fuck him good alright.

 He’s as careful as ever in the way he prepares him, not wanting to hurt him in any way.

It’s hard not to gaze at the way Dogma shivers and arches upon his touch, at how flushed his face looks, at the way his lips hang open as he moans, even sticking his tongue out a bit… That’s it, Rex can’t resist anymore. In a moment he leans down, pressing his body against Dogma, kissing him until they’re both out of breath, and still even then it’s hard to pull away.

“Rex!” Dogma whines as the other twists his fingers inside him just right. “Please!”

It’s endearing how eager for it he already is, but Rex can’t deny sharing the same sentiment. “You sure?” he still asks, just to be certain. Last thing he needs is to get Dogma hurt because they wanted to get on with it faster than they should’ve had.

There’s nothing uncertain in the way Dogma nods, however. “Yes, please… I’m ready.”

Well, if he’s sure…

 Rex removes his fingers, using them to coat his cock in lube. He shivers as he touches himself, but he tries to keep himself in check in order not to let go too early - he still has to get inside Dogma, for Prime’s sake.

Once he lines himself up over Dogma’s entrance, he shoots him another look, to which Dogma nods in response. “Please, please, please, please…”

With that ringing endorsement, Rex pushes inside, unable to contain his voice as he feels Dogma enveloping him. So good…

Once he bottoms out, he remains still, giving Dogma time to get used to the intrusion. “Ok?” he asks, caressing Dogma’s cheek.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s fine,” the other replies, prompting Rex to begin slowly rocking his hips in and out, in and out. Dogma moans and his hands shoot up to hold onto Rex’s large shoulders, burying his fingernails into them; it burns a little, but Rex doesn’t find himself minding.

 “Rex! Rex! Rex!” Dogma’s voice is filling the room, and it encourages Rex to keep going, thrusting deeper, faster. He wants to make Dogma see stars.

The more he goes on, the closer he finds himself to coming; looking at Dogma, he seems on the same boat. “Dogma…” Rex mutters, pressing their foreheads together, making Dogma open his eyes and their gazes meet. “Together?”

A nod. “Together,” he replies then, holding onto Rex with even more strength than before as Rex pushes and pushes and pushes and…

They do come indeed together, clinging onto each other, keeping close, whispering each other’s names like a prayer. It’s a lot, but not in a bad way; they feel so connected to each other. So good…

 Even once Rex pulls away, they still remain entangled, without any intentions to move.

Rex nuzzles his nose against Dogma’s neck, making him chuckle and draw him in for a kiss to which Rex responds in kind. When they pull away, they press their foreheads together.

“Do you have to go?” Dogma asks, then, a small frown on his face.

Well, Rex should go, but… “I’ll stay here for another while,” he reassures him.

Sure, he will have to leave soon, but for now all he wants is to bask in Dogma’s warmth a bit longer. Judging by Dogma’s smile at those words, he feels the same.

Tag list: @maulusque @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know!

[askvectorprime]

In the alternate universe of hearts of steel world taking place with the events of the x-files, did the Autobots including Prowl, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Trailblazer, and Hound. And the deceptions who fell into the ocean including Starscream and the seekers, Shockwave, Soundwave, the coneheads, insecticons, Octane, Blitzwing, the cassettes, and the Astrotrain. Did both factions with all members survive the the following events to live to the modern day?

Dear Steam Punk,

Unfortunately, no. That first clash between the Autobots and Decepticons in the year 1867 ended with the death of Starscream and all of the forces under his command after they plummeted into the Yampa River. Those Decepticons that fell in with the Elder God twenty-one years later were but a defeated remnant of the original Decepticon army, and I suspect that the aquatic horror likely preyed upon their feelings of despair in order to possess their mortal bodies.

Most of the Autobots, meanwhile, survived their respective adventures; after their first conflict in the Industrial Era, most of the Autobots returned to slumber underground; forced to rely on crude human fuels instead of their usual energon, they awoke from this sleep only when essential in order to conserve energy. Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, and Ratchet spent more time awake than their compatriots, quietly observing humanity from the shadows and breaking cover only when absolutely necessary.

Indeed, over the next several decades Decepticon stragglers occasionally surfaced to make life difficult: in the 1920s, for instance, the Stunticons made a nuisance of themselves running guns in Chicago, and in 1943 Optimus Prime led a small unit of Autobots to prevent the Combaticons from terrorizing the Pacific Islands. Beyond these infrequent skirmishes, however, the two sides largely kept to themselves. Indeed, during a chaotic period of geopolitical tension in 1962, whatever remained of the Decepticon force had rallied themselves under Onslaught’s leadership, stole several key parts from human missile test sites, and used them to construct a crude starship, an “escape pod” they constructed in the hopes of returning to Cybertron. Optimus Prime and his Autobots remained on Earth in case they ever returned and kept an eye out for Megatron, who had mysteriously gone missing since the first clash on Earth all those millennia ago.

[hamliet]

I have two ASOIAF questions here. My first question is do you think any of the characters will get a redemption arc where they do end up living and not dying? And my second question is which characters would you personally like to see get a redemptions arc that again doesn't end in the character(s) dying?

Ahhhhhhh ASOIAF ask! Yay!

I guess it depends on what you define as redemption exactly. So, yes... ish? But it is a dark story with a lot of romantic tropes--and when I say romantic, I mean in the literary sense, which shares quite a bit with Gothic tropes and so can involve tragedy, but of the hopeful sort. It’s also challenging to examine redemption within a story filled with shades of gray.

Like, Jaime has a pretty standard redemption arc--framed as an antagonist to now being framed as a protagonist. I think he’s going to die, though, probably in King’s Landing where everything goes boom. Theon, too, is likely to die at some point, unfortunately.

I think Daenerys will be responsible in a major way for the aforementioned boom (along with Cersei and the Mad Kin and Chekov’s wildfyre), but I don’t think she’ll have deliberately murdered people--more like she will be reckless and be willing to accept some civilian losses--but inadvertently destroy the entire city and everyone in it by touching off wildfyre. Then I think she’ll go north, fall in love with Jon, possibly have a child, and die a hero defeating the Others. She’s always been framed as a protagonist, though, so is that really a redemption? I say yes..ish. But also, will she survive? Not likely. Jon, Sansa, Arya, Bran--they’re all primed for dark turns in The Winds of Winter as well... will they need redemption per se, if always framed as protagonists? 

Tyrion has a decent chance, like 50/50. And of our protagonists he’s the one who most clearly needs redemption. I do think he’ll be a hero in the war against the Others, where he survives is questionable--I actually would have said I lean “no” but the show’s leaving him alive (as horrid as the show was in basically everything) makes me wonder if he does indeed survive. 

Lady Stoneheart, Melisandre, and Stannis are likely to have moments where they realize how badly they’ve effed up, and while I see Stannis dying tragically after sacrificing Shireen, I do see Mel and Stoneheart having moments of redeeming themselves somewhat.

Euron? No chance of redemption or surviving. Cersei? Also no chance of either. Arianne is tragic Daenerys and Griff/fAegon is tragic Jon; they won’t need redemption, but they’ll die. 

Which leaves one more character who is being redeemed and has a chance of surviving (okay along with Tyrion this is like, the only one, lovely): the Hound, Sandor Clegane. Unlike in the show I don’t think he’ll die in King’s Landing with his brother in some lame dudebro fest of Cleganebowl, but instead face his sins and his redemption if he leaves the Quiet Isle. If. Anyways I think he’s possibly to leave his peaceful oasis once he hears of the threat to the North/something with Sansa or Arya being back. The question is if he dies or not fighting the Others. No idea.

As for what I’d personally like? I don’t want Dany to die but like, it seems likely. I also don’t want Theon to die, or Jaime, but of the two of them I choose Theon. Let him live he’s suffered enough. 

[sinsbymanka]

@tightassets and I have combined our smutty angsty powers to bring you our combined prompts for @cozy-autumn-prompts, brain child of the lovely @scharoux. 

For our first prompt, enjoy this ADORABLE picture of Keaton Hawke and Lilitu Lavellan sharing a blanket for Prompt #3 (also join me in ooh’ing and ahh’ing over the rain effect and Lilitu and Keaton’s PERFECT expressions).

And as always, art has inspired fic! Special shoutout here for @solas-disapproves for helping me translate some Elvhen because I’m hopeless and @jennserr for the amazing translation trick on AO3!

Title: You Smell Like Wet Dog Pairing: Male Hawke x Female Lavellan, Keaton Hawke x Lilitu Lavellan Rating: M Content Warnings:  Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Flirting, Pining, Past Anders/Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Sexual Tension

Read on AO3

Keaton was beginning to realize his memories of Ferelden may have been tinged with just the slightest whiff of nostalgia. 

Sure, there were definitely things to admire. First and foremost,there were more dogs and fewer Orlesians, always a plus. Unfortunately, a solid ninety-five percent of his stay in Crestwood had consisted of scraping mud out of his boots, an overall minus. Add in the lakes full of cursed undead he somehow missed as a child, and he’d have to readjust his thinking about his homeland. Add in Varric’s unbearable snoring, the rain dripping through a small hole in their shared canvas tent, and the smell of charred human flesh, and Keaton Hawke had quite enough of this visit .

As if the dwarf heard him, the rumble in the tent only intensified. Keaton threw his forearm over his eyes and grit his teeth together. Sweet Andraste’s blushing asscheeks. At least Keaton finally knew the real reason Varric’s prime lady friend was a weapon of mass destruction. Any flesh and blood woman would have smothered him. 

Not that Keaton would have blamed them. If he had a real pi llow, he may have done it himself. 

For a blissful moment, the constant noise ceased. Keaton closed his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep. He was exhausted, his shoulder ached, and-

The rumble started up again almost on cue, loud as a pride demon trapped inside with them. Keaton flung his arm from his face, turned his head to glare at the dwarf, and promptly had a fat drop of water plop in his eyeball.

Well. So much for sleeping here. Maybe he’d go find one of those charming caves full of giant spiders and take his chances of getting eaten alive. 

Keaton didn’t bother to muffle the noise his hasty departure from the tent made, but his blighted best friend snored peacefully through all of it. When he dove out through the tent flap and into the freezing rain, Keaton fought the urge to grab his sword and slash the canvas right over Varric’s annoying face. 

He honestly may have done it anyway, self-control had never been his strong suit, but before he could weigh the pros and cons of listening to Varric’s complaints about a ruined tent the whole way back to Skyhold, something much more interesting caught his attention. 

Perhaps one of the few truly good things about being stuck in the soggy Ferelden countryside. 

The Inquisitor glowed in the firelight. Keaton swore he heard her humming even in the steady patter of the rain. The song sounded half familiar, something Keaton swore he’d heard before. 

Then Inquisitor Lilitu Lavellan tossed her moonlight pale hair over her shoulder and looked behind her towards the tent. Almost instantly her nose popped into the air like a hound scenting trouble, her brow furrowing. 

“What are you doing?” She demanded. 

Excellent question. One that probably demanded a semi-coherent answer. 

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and gave her the sunniest smile he could manage while the rain was plastering his hair to his face. “We were comparing chest hair and I was coming out the obvious winner, so now I’ve got to find another tent.” 

Lilitu blinked once. Twice. Then she shook her head and scowled. 

“You’ll get wet.” 

“Wet.” Keaton repeated. Lilitu huffed in irritation and pointed at the sky above them as if to illustrate it was indeed raining and that would be responsible for getting them wet. 

Although the little pout twisting her lips made him think of much more delightful ways to get her wet than the blighted Ferelden weather. If only his current tent wasn’t occupied by the loudest and most annoying dwarf he’d ever met. 

Before he could begin calculating alternate arrangements, Lilitu stalked away from the fire and straight towards him. One small hand, not even wide enough to wrap the whole way around his wrist, dug into bicep and dragged him forward with surprising strength and astonishing impatience. 

...was it wrong to be impressed, terrified, and aroused by the tiny elf manhandling him? 

Before he could consider the full implications of that thought, she dragged him to the log she’d been sitting on, pointing at it before issuing her command. “Sit.” 

He didn’t see how that was going to help him be less wet, but who was he to deny the Inquisitor herself. Particularly when she wore an expression that managed to be both stern and utterly adorable under the curling crimson ink of her vallaslin. He tossed the tiny elf a sunny grin and plopped himself down on her log. 

Which was exactly when he realized what a clever little set up she had. Surrounding the log was a pocket of warm, blissfully dry air. Before he could even process his shock at the sheer neatness of her trick, she settled herself beside him with a little hum, looking up at him while she picked up the blanket she’d abandoned to retrieve him. 

Then her nose wrinkled and she sniffed audibly. “Ma odhe irmes dhar.”

Had… had she just told him he smelled like a wet dog? 

“Ahn?” He sputtered. 

Her whole face lit up like Satinalia had come early. “Dirthas Elvhen?” 

Keaton smirked and nodded. “Dirthan.” 

He may have spoke Elvhen, but he wasn’t prepared for the torrent of words that flew from Lilitu’s lips as she leaned closer. He caught bits and pieces of words. Champion. Kirkwall. Something about a dragon. 

Ah. Varric’s name. Somebody had been telling stories about him again. 

“Dirtha felas’el!” He laughed, running his hand through the soaked stripe of hair on his head. “I’ll answer your questions, kitten, but you gotta slow down.” 

That seemed to please her quite a bit judging by the satisfied smirk playing around her sinful lips. She fluffed the blankets in her hand before flapping it in the air with a deft flick of her wrist. 

Then those same clever fingers were tossing half the blanket over his shoulders while her curvy form pressed firmly against his side and the other half of the blanket draped over her. Lilitu’s pointed chin tipped up expectantly, and for a dizzying moment, Keaton almost thought she’d lay her head against his arm. 

“Dirth ma.” She insisted, poking his muscled arm. “The dragon.” 

“Which one?” Keaton asked. 

Her eyes shimmered with joy. “All of them.” 

Keaton scratched at his beard thoughtfully while she examined him with her bright, inquisitive gaze. Her eyes glowed and his heart throbbed almost painfully, a feeling he didn’t quite understand.

One he very much didn’t want to understand. 

He tore his eyes from her to look at the fire, rolling his stiff shoulder, trying to think of where to start his pitiful story. 

“It hurts?” Lilitu asked, jabbing her finger into his bicep. He frowned, drawn back into her alluring orbit. 

“Only when I’m displaying manly feats of strength for your enjoyment.” 

The flirting still came easy, even after everything. Lilitu rolled her eyes to the dark sky, smile tugging her lips up, thin fingers trailing thoughtfully up over his loose cotton shirt before she dug her grip into his aching shoulder. 

Before he could complain, warmth trickled from her fingers, seeping into his abused muscles, easing the tightness, numbing the pain. It felt familiar, and different at the same time, bringing back a haunting echo of different hands at the same time a wave of heat settled into his gut. 

“Better?” Lilitu asked, eying him critically. 

It was. It would be. “You’re handy, kitten. I’ll give you that.” 

Was it just him, or did she let her hand linger just a moment, exploring the breadth of his muscles before she removed it with heat lingering in the expression she wore? 

Keaton didn’t know the answer to that question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Maker’s ass, was he in trouble. 

He took a deep breath while Lilitu settled herself beside him, leaning lightly into him. 

“Tell me.” She demanded, relaxing beside him, staring into the flickering flames with an expression of great satisfaction. As if she’d rather be nowhere else than their little bubble, silent but for the rain around them. 

Suspiciously silent, in fact. Keaton shot a chagrined look at the tent behind him. That dwarven bastard had planned this. Somehow. And Keaton would pay him back for it in spades. 

After he finished impressing Lilitu Lavellan with all the dragons he slayed. 

Elvhen Translation:

Ahn - what

Dirthas elvhen - you speak elvhen? 

Dirthan - I speak it. 

Dirtha felas’el - speak slower 

Dirth ma - tell me