#roddy in fire
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13mary-gold · 2 days ago
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Roddy in FIRE 🔥
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And the version without fire
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Matrix of Leadership
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transingthoseformers · 1 month ago
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On one hand, iicr smoking is a thing in Transformers and it can be sexy in fiction sometimes
On the other hand, it would be incredibly funny if Ratchet launched one of the most effective anti-smoking campaigns in cybertronian history and the second someone thinks about lighting one up his disappointed face instantly comes to mind
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rynnthefangirl · 6 months ago
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The show is honestly setting up Criston’s death scene SO WELL.
His whole character arc is centered around him running away from his shame and dishonor, in ways that destroy and hurt others.
He soiled his white cloak by sleeping with Rhaenyra? Well clearly she is a seductive spider and the bitch must pay.
He bullies and hurts children of the royal family? Well they are bastards born to a spoiled c*nt, clearly they deserve it.
He let Prince Jaehaerys be murdered because he was too busy sleeping with Alicent? Blame Erykk, project his anger onto him, send him on a suicide mission in a desperate attempt to DO something and feel better about his enormous failure.
Criston is constantly breaking oaths, constantly acting with dishonor, constantly putting himself and his emotions first, even at the expense of those he is supposed to defend. His is a completely disgrace to knighthood, and he knows this. He knows it, but he hides from it, lashes out at others, projects, hurts, hates, destroys.
He is going to struggle with his shame the whole series, and eventually will find himself in a situation where he cannot win. The winter wolves force will outmatch his own, it is a battle that they are doomed to lose, and his men are going to be massacred. And Criston, at long last, will step up. He will offer to fight and die on behalf of his men, to take on four enemies by himself in an epic duel worthy of a knight of the Kingsguard. This is his redemption, he may have lived a life without honor, but he can still die with it. He will make his grand declaration, challenging Roddy the Ruin, Criston stands tall as he feels a fierce sense of pride and determination—
Only to be struck down by an arrow, and die without another word. Because that’s not how honor works. You cannot spend your entire life being a selfish monster, and then wipe the slate clean with one grand gesture. Criston will die as he lived- a pathetic failure. There will be no songs sung about him.
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software-sweetheart · 2 years ago
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rodimus prime / hotrod (idw) stimboard
requested by: @strawverrysweet! let me know if you want anything changed :)
🏎️-🏎️-🏎️
🏎️-🏎️-🏎️
🏎️-🏎️-🏎️
please check pinned post :)
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dinoserious · 2 years ago
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roddy roadmap for my little funtimes continuity
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wardencommanderrodimiss · 8 months ago
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I keep forgetting to write down this FE Fates AU I dreamed of the other night:
About a year after the end of the Conquest route, Kaze - who’s married Corrin, lives in Nohr at the castle with her and her siblings - wakes up… and he’s being held prisoner alongside Rinkah, about to be dragged out to fight Corrin in front of Garon. He’s got all his memories of the future, but he’s back at the start of the plot, and at this point, he’s got two to three weeks to try and fix things before Mikoto is killed and the war breaks out.
Then once I was more awake, I had some more thoughts elaborating on it:
Saving Mikoto is obviously the first thought. It probably wouldn’t be all that hard for him to convince someone that Corrin should not be keeping her weird creepy sword with her. Like even if Ryoma and Mikoto firmly believe that Corrin won’t do them harm, Kaze really could just put the thought in Saizo’s head and then Saizo steals it from her in the middle of the night and throws it in a river. Problem solved!
…it probably wouldn’t be that easy. The limitations/mechanics of Anankos’ invisible soldiers are not well-defined (or…defined at all…) but even if they needed the sword in Hoshido as an anchor point, then even if it’s not at Corrin’s side, Anankos could still send Sumeragi to grab it and then travel to the capital, and the result is still the same.
The best plan would be to toss the sword in the Bottomless Canyon right after Rinkah captures Corrin in the border skirmish, but I don’t think Kaze is thinking that far ahead because. He doesn’t know about Valla. He knows that Garon was a goo monster and Takumi got possessed and Corrin’s sword was cursed and that there’s invisible assassins but he does not know where all of these things overlap. He’s missing critical information.
Like, maybe him being forewarned that an invisible assassin with an exploding sword is trying to kill Mikoto would be enough that he manages to save her. But then that spins this off into a wildly different AU that I’ve got to build from the ground up. And that’s an interesting story! But I haven’t built it from the ground up yet.
So assume Mikoto still dies. Obviously, not something Kaze wants. Something he’s probably be willing to die to prevent. Maybe something he’s trying to plan for anyway. Or at least, he recognizes even with her alive, Corrin’s still going to face a choice. He tries to get closer to her during her initial time in Hoshido - not really sure that he can influence her choice, or even what the best choice would be, but just. trying. something. anything. He already worked through his guilt about her kidnapping and Sumeragi’s death his first time around, so he’s not keeping his distance from her for that reason. It’s weird, because he’s a stranger to her and she’s his wife to him, and she’s pretty confused about why he’s asking her about her life and siblings in Nohr and such, but hey, she thinks, maybe he’s just curious about why Leo and Xander went along with her insistence that he and Rinkah be spared.
So assume Mikoto still dies, and Corrin is standing there facing a choice between her families. And so, three possible paths for her, and for Kaze, who’s already seen one path:
1. Birthright:
Whatever conversations she had with Kaze this time around, whatever thoughts he got her thinking, she doesn’t want to return to Garon. She stays in Hoshido. Kaze probably feels some relief. He doesn’t have to see her kill her brothers this time. He doesn’t have to kill his brother again. Her Nohrian siblings are furious and betrayed, of course, but Kaze has some hope that she can convince them and things can work out - he knows them well. They’re his siblings-in-law. They’re his comrades-in-arms and friends. Corrin, he’s sure, can sway them, and they’ll face down Garon together and it - it will turn out better. Surely.
And okay, no, her Nohrian siblings still don’t seem any less angry the next few times they cross paths - but once they’ve fought their way deep into Nohr, Leo stands down. Elise joins them. Camilla stands down. Kaze is, at this point, feeling pretty hopeful—
—and Xander accidentally kills Elise and then lets Corrin kill him, and Corrin is devastated, and Kaze is devastated and has to swallow that grief because he is not supposed to know them in this timeline. He has not spent a year living with them and repairing Nohr with them, rebuilding relations with Hoshido with them. In this timeline, he’s only known Elise briefly. Xander should be a stranger. He’s mourning them and he has no justifiable reason, to the others, to mourn. So he can’t.
And then they fight Garon and Azura sings herself to death. Dissolved into water and mist. And Kaze realizes: Azura vanished after that fight with Takumi. She left and never came back. Everyone assumed she just walked away, for whatever reasons of her own. But she used the powers of her song and her pendant in that battle, just as she did here, with Garon. Azura, he realizes, a year and a fucked-up time travel adventure later, died while their backs were turned. Azura probably snuck off around a corner to die alone, quietly, out of sight.
Mikoto is dead. Garon is dead. Two of Corrin’s siblings are dead. Azura is dead. Saizo… survived. Fewer innocent civilians were murdered by the Nohrian army. Two victories for Kaze.
2. Conquest:
Everything is playing out the same way that Kaze remembers. It would take a lot for him to stop himself from immediately defecting and following Corrin back. But he refrains and uses his time still in Hoshido to immediately try to convince Yukimura, Ryoma, Hinoka, anyone, that they need to launch an invasion of Nohr. They can’t be caught on the back foot. Even if they don’t do it immediately, Nohr will invade, and they will slaughter surrendering soldiers, slaughter civilians - Hoshido has to go on the offensive. There’s a burgeoning resistance in Cheve. Link up with them and start from there - but Kaze heard what happened in Cheve last time. Don’t expect that their guerrilla tactics will survive the might of the Nohrian army brought down on them. Hoshido has to bring everything it has, as soon as it can. That’s the best chance they have.
And then he defects to Nohr.
Well. Before that, I think he’d probably have to attempt to convince everyone that he has some amount of precognition to get them to listen at all to his insane plan. But we know Mikoto had visions of the future, Orochi is a diviner - these powers exist. It’s weird that Kaze is insisting he’s suddenly developed them, but it’s not impossible.
(“So if we don’t invade, who of us is going to die?” Orochi asks.
The look on Kaze’s face is enough to convince the skeptics that he is very, very serious about this, and that he has seen something that is very real to him, if nothing else. “You… I think you die in Cheve,” he says. “Reina as well. Princess Sakura and her retainers survive - Yukimura - Princess Hinoka and her retainers - you are crowned queen, Princess Hinoka.”
“I don’t think we need to hear more of this,” Subaki says.
“I’d rather die than surrender,” says Takumi, missing - or ignoring - the look already on Sakura’s face.
“You do,” Kaze says.
“Well, then I’d better have died with him,” Oboro says.
“You do,” Kaze says.
“Enough,” Ryoma says, and that is that.
Azura believes Kaze. She knows enough about the strangeness that lies hidden in the world to believe his visions. “And what of me?” she asks him later.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “You… you fight with Nohr, in the end. You’re kidnapped by Hoshidan soldiers who don’t trust you, dragged halfway across the continent - Corrin rescues you. You stay with her. But you… I don’t know what happens to you.”
“Oh,” says Azura, who can assume what this means. She knows the curse of Valla. She knows the consequences of her pendant and her powers. She can assume one of those devours her.
After a moment, Kaze adds, “I defect too.”
Maybe if they’re lucky, Azura will ask him something else about this future, and he’ll say something that makes her realize she can, and should, confide in him. Maybe she’ll realize that her knowledge of Valla can help him interpret his vision of the future. They’ll better put the pieces together.
Maybe, rather than waiting for Azura to be called a traitor for her supposed Nohrian birth, the two of them defect together. Stop at the Bottomless Canyon before they make their way to Corrin’s side.)
3. Revelation:
Kaze does not stop himself from defecting immediately. He hears her proclaimed a traitor, sees her, Azura, and Jakob fleeing the battlefield, and says “fuck it” and immediately cuts and runs after them. Fuck it.
Going to Valla clears up a lot of questions he had about everything that happened with Garon, and Takumi, and everything else, and raises several other questions. But everything’s so goddamn weird already, he might as well spill what he knows. Visions of an alternate future aren’t any weirder than the cursed land they traveled to by jumping off a bridge.
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daughterofyourdarklord · 2 years ago
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But what if Delphini was at Hogwarts the same time as the trio???
Year 1: 
“Please.” 
She jokes, nudging at her cousin who’s sitting tall besides her in the train compartment. “Harry Potter being in our year at Hogwarts is nothing more than a gift.” She means it too, forcing away that pit of fear that settles in her stomach whenever she thinks about the chosen one. About everything he’s already taken from her family, from her.
Draco goes on joking with their soon-to-be fellow Slytherins. The express is buzzing with energy, though most of the First Year’s look more nervous than excited. 
She runs into Neville Longbottom on their waltz to the Great Hall. He bends directly in front of her, picking up some slimy toad off the stone floor with bare hands. Disgusting. He’s on his knees when he looks up and meets her eye, terror seeping into his gaze. She smiles at him devilishly, pausing for a moment before pushing him aside in an effort to get to what she is certain will soon be her throne room. 
“Delphini Lestrange.”
It’s a horrible cover-up of a last name, an obvious lie to any witch or wizard who knows better. McGonagal calls it nonetheless. There is a weight on her shoulders as she walks forward, the same one that’s settled their since the moment she was born. 
No one is surprised when the hat deems her a Slytherin.
Delphini feels Dumbledore’s stare on her the entire walk over to the sea of green and silver, but it’s Snape’s eyes that she meets when she sits down. 
The tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor is palpable. Worse than it has been in years, or so the older students claim. Delphini knows why, and Draco does too. 
She’s still glaring at the Granger girl when Quirrell asks her to stay after class in a sputter. 
“Of course, Professor.” She answers sweetly, watching from the corner of her eye as jealousy blooms across the mudbloods face. Ever the teacher’s pet. He seals the doors behind them, locking them with a flick of his wrist and casting a silencing charm while he’s at it. 
This time, he does not stutter when he speaks to her. 
Year 2: 
She dreams of a snake all alone, somewhere dark. Crying out for family, for companionship, for someone to listen. Anyone.
Only no one is there.
She wakes up in her dormitory with tears in her eyes. 
There’s been whispers about the Heir of Slytheirn. Talk that he’s returned, that he’s ready to rid the school of all filth that stands in his mighty way. 
Sometimes she wonders how people might react to find out that 'he' is actually a 'she.'
Regardless, it’s not Delphini that’s playing around in the chamber this year. A part of her is wildly unsettled that she doesn’t know who it is. 
It’s no matter, she has far more important things to focus on.
Initially, she almost isn’t allowed to take part in the dueling club. Some poor excuse sprouted up by the Gryffindors, accusations of dark magic and cheating. Unsurprisingly, its Severus that comes to her aid.  
Dueling comes far too naturally to her, and feels oh so sweet. Still she works harder, so eager, ready to fight, to strike. She trains and trains and then trains some more. 
She needs to be enough for Him, when the time is right. 
Potter being a parselmouth is.. Unexpected.
Even Severus seems surprised. Delphini is not sure how to handle the news, she writes home to her Uncle who informs her to stay out of it.
For the first time in a long time, she listens. 
Sometimes, she thinks she's going insane. She hears her father speaking to her through the castle walls, they whisper and she listens. She continues her training.
She will be enough. 
That poor snake. 
Year 3: 
The castle is awake, dementors swarming high above them, eager, hungry.  
She hates them. 
Delphini is determined and reluctant all at once in her venture.
Macnair had just walked out to call for the dementors, readying them to focus their rage. Quickly and quietly she slips into Flitwick’s office. 
They both freeze the minute their gazes meet. 
Eyes clashing from across the room, one hand still resting on the door handle, the other’s chained to an ornate desk. Sirius is the first to break the spell. 
“You look just like her.”
She shifts her gaze away at that, something in her shattering just a little. “I know.” She wants to answer, but she doesn’t have the time. 
“How did you do it?” 
This time, it’s him that doesn’t answer, eyes scanning her face almost wistfully.
“She’d never stop talking about you, you know? Drove the other inmates mad in her rantings, but really I think she just didn’t want to forget.”
And how that just aches. 
She shatters further. “How could you leave her!?” She wants to scream, instead she asks again: 
“How did you manage to escape?” Her voice sounds more desperate than commanding, close to a whisper. 
He smiles sadly. 
“She can’t do it..” Delphini waits for him to finish his sentence. It’s short, and certainly not the answer she was looking for. “I’m an animagus.” 
And that’s all she needed to hear. She squeezes her eyes shut tightly, not bothering to hide her reaction. That familiar weight settles heavily on her shoulders again, for a moment she feels like she might crumble beneath it. Quickly she turns back to the door, ready to race out of the room and pretend he told her anything else. 
She pauses, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder to glance back at his haunting face. 
“Then why wait all this time? Why not leave that place the second you had the chance?” 
He doesn’t answer. 
He doesn’t need to.
Year 4: 
It was gorgeous, the bright green in stark contrast against the dark night sky. Constellations gleaming in its wake, a harmony in the heavens.
A terrorist attack, they had called it. 
Art, Delphini thought. It was the first time she’d ever seen it. 
Something was coming. Lucius seemed certain of this, even Narcissa had given them an exceptionally careful goodbye before ushering them onto the express.
The Triwizard Tournament turned out to be an even bigger let down than she’d imagined. Beauxbatons was a bore, and the Drumstang boys seemed scared of her, which was no surprise really. 
Karkaroff avoided her like a poor case of mumblemumps. 
His time would come, it was not up to Delphini to designate punishment. Not yet.  
Watching Potter almost die at the edge of each of these challenges did add a nice touch to the year. Though, all that anticipation she’d felt in summer dwindled a bit each time he survived. 
It wasn’t until Moody tracked her down in the corridors after hours that things really got interesting. 
Even Delphini was surprised to find Barty somehow alive. 
He doesn’t tell her much. They don’t have a lot of time as it stands, and really she’s just thrilled to have finally met him. He’s full of promises, of course. Lot’s of ‘soons’ and ‘be ready’. Delphini doesn’t get any of the details but she’s known since the beginning of term that it was finally coming. She’s more than ready, more than enough. Isn’t she?  
"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and He will come for me!"
The scripture scrawled into her very soul. There have been signs everywhere pointing towards His return. Now she knows it to be true. 
“You have her face,” Moody - Barty - interrupts her thoughts, he’s staring at Delphini in near worship, a look so foreign for the professor. “You have His eyes, though.” 
“I know.” 
She meets Him for the first time later that summer and He tells her something similar. It means all the more coming from Him.
Before her father, for the first time, she spins her spells into symphonies, her hexes into homilies, casts her curses to the constellations. Shows Him everything she knows, and all her power with it.
She walks back over to Him when she is well and through, magic still radiating off of her in harsh waves. Her father takes her wand from her hands. 
“I have much to learn.” Delphini offers, and she knows it to be true.
Her father is looking at her wand still. 
Dragon-heartstring, like her mother. Yew, like His own. 
He is smiling when he answers, something proud dancing in those red eyes. “Yes. You do.”
Year 5: 
With the commencing of the Spring Equinox she is finally allowed home. Ostara save her.
Delphini has to brace herself before walking through those large double doors, entirely unsure exactly who she might find on the other side. 
Still, her heart is burning. 
At last. 
Her mother’s embrace is a blessing. A gift Delphini hadn’t known she needed. That sharp look of recognition in her eyes hurts in all its relief. 
She really does wear her face, afterall. They’d all promised her as much, didn’t they?
Father is there, He is watching. Studying them both, studying their interaction.  
Her mother takes her face between her palms like a prayer, eyes shining. She’s full of promises and penitence. Delphini isn't having any of it. Her mother owes her nothing and this, just being here, it's more than enough.
Delphini has never felt so whole in all her life.
She begs to be a part of their plans at the ministry. Anything she can do to further the cause, support her family, put them back into their rightful place - above everyone else.
It's futile. She's far too young, and the logistics of getting her there are far too problematic. There's talk of Azkaban and Bellatrix looks terrified at the prospect of Delphini somehow winding up there.
"Absolutely not. The choice is not yours to make and your Father and I are in perfect agreement that you remain at the school." She turns to her, reaching a hand up to caress Delphi's cheek tenderly.
"We'll celebrate once we return with the prophecy, hm?"
It's the one promise Delphini will accept wholeheartedly.
Year 6: 
Somehow, it’s Draco and Delphini that bear the brunt of the shame brought on from the fiasco at the Ministry. 
Draco is marked, as punishment to Lucius (to Narcissa).
Delphini is not, as punishment to Bellatrix (to herself). 
Her cousin is crumbling under the pressure, Delphini is soaring. It's the same weight she’d felt her whole life, only this time she finally has an opportunity to act on it.   
It takes longer than she would like to mend the vanishing cabinet. Draco was seeing to it personally in the beginning, but with little to no headway Delphini made it her personal mission.
Not that it really mattered anyway. Delphini has other plans entirely. 
Whilst Draco wastes his time casting cursed necklaces and poisoning wine, Delphini is speaking with the stars. 
She will be enough.
When the day of reckoning is finally upon them she can hardly hold back. 
“Expelliarmus.” It’s swift and was fully intended to take him off guard but she’d still expected him to put up some sort of a fight. Immediately, something seems off, its only a matter of sorting out whether or not its something she can take advantage of. 
“Evening, Delphini, Draco. Are you alone?” 
“Who else is here?” She doesn’t bother to entertain his question, though Draco is quick to boast about the Death Eaters holding off the guards down below. Dumbledore assures them he is alone, but the two brooms resting along the ramparts suggest otherwise. 
No matter, Delphini will handle them both. Draco is waxing on, talking about the vanishing cabinet and Rosmerta. Much as she hates to listen to him give them all away she’s taking a moment to study the Headmaster. Something seems off, as he is entirely unbothered to be at the wrong side of their wands.  
“And why have you waited?” The headmaster interrupts after a beat, causing even her cousin to pause. “Those feeble attempts to kill me all year, surely they weren’t you.” He is speaking directly to Delphini now, she knows it.
She smiles. 
Quickly, the other Death Eaters are fast up the stairs making their presence known. 
“It doesn't have to be this way.” The Headmaster continues, eyes only on her despite the others' verbal jabs. “Long ago, I met a boy who made all the wrong choices-"
“My Father, you mean?” She breaks her silence, the other Death Eaters laugh behind her at the revelation. Though Dumbledore is not at all surprised, and why would he be? “There’s no reason to hide behind truth’s any longer, Headmaster. His time has come, and consequently yours is over.” 
And suddenly Severus is there stepping forward to share a look with Dumbledore. A part of her considers testing the potion professors loyalty.. 
..Only, this is her moment.
“Avada Kedavra!” It’s sweet on her tongue, and even sweeter watching him fall. They’re on the move sooner than she’d like for them to be, hardly a chance to savor it.  
On their flight into the forbidden forest she throws a ‘morsmordre’ into the sky like a personal signature. The monogram of her family. 
When she finally greets them, He tells her she’s worthy and stitches as much into the inside of her left forearm.
She is enough.
Year 7: 
It’s beyond refreshing, being who she was always meant to be. 
Watching as Slytherins and now students alike all bow at her feet, that renewed fear keening in their eyes. 
She savors it, relishes in their reactions.
Miss Black, they call her.
It’s nearly perfect. Helping alongside mother and father to secure the ministry this summer, returning to Hogwarts with an honest surname, unforgivables cast at her fingertips without repercussion. 
Of course, there is still the looming prospect of Potter. 
He’s been hiding from them all for far too long, lurking in the shadows despite the growing number of mudbloods father kills. Finally, they manage to locate him at Hogwarts, where boy wonder somehow convince the entire school to fight for him. How cute.
Until eventually, they find a way to lure him out. 
Father calls her to the boathouse through the mark she finally bears. Her mother falls into step with her the moment she departs, Delphini is not sure if she was called but what does it matter? They’re family.
Nagini greets her with enthusiasm, dancing between her legs like a cat. She acknowledges her, of course, but only after she acknowledges Him.
He eyes her mother disapprovingly and Delphini is not at all sure what to make of that. 
“We’ll have him soon, Father. I'm certain of it. He’s far too righteous to let this continue, even if it is good fun. He will come to you. ”
He hums in agreement, long fingers tracing his newfound wand. 
“That he will, Delphini.”
She waits then, she and mother both, giving him the floor to impart his orders.
“You understand, Delphini, that you have proved yourself very valuable to me since my return.” She smiles gently, sharing a warm look with her mother before turning back to Him. “You’ve been right about a number of things, and dedicated beyond my expectations.” He pauses again before resuming his gentle pacing. “One can only hope that that devotion continues with my next request.” 
He falls into step next to her mother, reaching forward to trace along Bellatrix jaw gently. 
“I have concerns, Bella, with how this new wand may cooperate with me when it comes time to put an end to Harry Potter.” Her mother looks confused, leaning forward into his touch.  
“My Lord?” He lingers a moment, appreciating her features before resuming his pacing. 
With it He continues, telling them of wandlore he was able to gather from Ollivander, from Gregorovitch. Delphini’s stomach sinks with every word. 
“You understand, Delphini.” He pauses, stopping directly opposite her on the other side of the small boathouse with an imploring look. “That while you live, the elder wand will never truly be mine?” 
And finally she is crumbling under the weight of it all.
Tears swim in her eyes as she looks at Him without answer, finally broken. She did everything right - exactly as He had asked her to! She did it all for Him - for them! To be everything and more.. To be enough..
Though, it seems she may never be enough. 
“F-father..” Her voice is broken, stubborn tears escaping from her eyes, eyes the same shade as His own. He doesn’t speak, nor does he resume his pacing. 
And then there’s Bellatrix, balancing on the edge of in-between them.
Delphini is too afraid to even look at her, desperation more than evident in her mother's voice: “My Lord. Certainly, there is another way. We can take Potter as prisoner and work the rest out later! How can we trust the word of a two-timing wandmaker? No - there are more, other wandmakers throughout Europe! I will bring them to you and we can find other ways - just like we always do..My Lord.."
His eyes don’t leave Delphini's own.  
“Please.”
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fierydare · 1 day ago
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pls imagine hot rod painting flames on optimus 🥺
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rodimissliveblogs · 1 year ago
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Chewing on some Archfey Warlock backstory/relationship with patron thoughts now that I am in a hag’s lair, but also I am tired. so maybe perhaps tomorrow.
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Oh yeah we keep forgetting to make a mod list oops
SO we'll make a fancy post about it later but uh hii this blog is run by one system(very newly realized, so thanks for the patience as we figure ourselves out), but we thought it'd be cute to give us little mod names and present us with our pronouns!
Also including screenshots because we picked mod names matching Transformers Animated because we thought it'd be cute to be matchy matchy! Under the cut though because images take space,,,
In order of who we think tends to front most often (i.e. the mods you'd see the most of here) to least often
Mod Jetfire - He/Him
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Mod Jetstorm - He/Him
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Mod Rodimus - He/Him
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Mod Bumblebee - They/He (Minor, please avoid swears with this one haha)
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Mod Arcee - She/Her
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Mod Shockwave - He/They
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horizon-verizon · 2 years ago
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Little did Lord Lefford suspect that he would soon face a stiffer test, for an army of fresh foes was descending on them from the north: two thousand savage northmen, flying Queen Rhaenyra’s quartered banners. At their head rode the Lord of Barrowton, Roderick Dustin, a warrior so old and hoary men called him Roddy the Ruin. His host was made up of grizzled greybeards in old mail and ragged skins, every man a seasoned warrior, every man ahorse. They called themselves the Winter Wolves. “We have come to die for the dragon queen,” Lord Roderick announced at the Twins, when Lady Sabitha Frey rode out to greet them.
Fire and Blood by GRRM, pg 458-459
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overlordraax · 1 year ago
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Image description: fan art of Hot Rod and Thunderclash from Transformers. They stand opposite each other, staring each other down as if ready to fight. Behind them are their names in big bold letters, which makes the piece feel reminiscent of the beginning of a fighting game. Hot Rod's armour is coloured in black with red being a highlight colour. He glares at Thunderclash, while Thunders has a more playful smirk on his face. Behind them is a blurred background of tall buildings at looming angles, trapping them into the frame. Ice surrounds the background, covering Hot Rod's legs and wrists. End description.
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when pros are maring
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keferon · 11 days ago
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Part 2 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rod playing air hockey with their remaining brain cells!
Ratchet desperately plays referee.
———————————————————————
The morning Sun was poking Ratchet in the eyes. He scrubbed one hand over his face while the other groped down the side of his recliner for the lever to drop his feet.
There was one more blanket on him than what he’d gone to sleep with.
Daw.
Ratchet needed something bitter immediately to compensate.
Rolling out of his chair with a patented old man grunt, Ratchet was about to get coffee when he realized there was a distinct lack of nitwits harassing him.
Ratchet could hear Hot Rod and Deadlock outside and turned heel to enforce some basic self preservation. He paused, and grabbed a broom for good measure.
Sitting crisscross on the pavement, Deadlock was rolling Hot Rod from one hand to the other and back again. The pilot alternated between somersaulting, sliding and swinging back and forth all while not breaking conversation.
“So you caught on fire and just kept fighting anyways?”
“Yup! Turned out to be an awesome way to get out of any grapple instant-“ Hot Rod huffed, tucking into another roll, “-taneoulsy!”
Ratchet cleared his throat and Deadlock instantly closed his hands around Hot Rod like a kid caught playing with something he shouldn’t have.
“Watcha got there?”
“Nuthin.” Said Deadlock.
“Nuthin.” Said Hot Rod, muffled.
Deadlocks face was twitching more and more the longer he tried to keep an innocent expression. He didn’t even bother trying to suppress the way his finales wriggled in clear amusement.
Hot Rods red mop of a head popped up between Deadlocks thumbs.
“Mornin Ratch! How’d ya sleep?”
Ratchet put the broom down, for now.
“I slept surprisingly well. And don’t call me Ratch.”
“Deadlock gets to call you Ratch! He also calls you HRUMF-“ Hot Rod was unceremoniously cut off. Deadlock frowning down at his re-clasped fists.
Ratchet couldn’t quite make out what his mech was muttering but it sounded suspiciously like “Little snitch.”
Before Ratchet could tell him to let Hot Rod go, both of Deadlocks finales snapped back with a twinned sharp CLACK.
“EUAGH.”
Deadlock whipped one hand away, shaking it vigorously while the other held Hot Rod upside down.
“He licked me!”
“And I’ll do it again!” Hot Rod yelled, tiny fists raised in victory.
Ratchet got the broom back out, “Kid, put him down. Gently. And Hot Rod, stop fucking licking people.”
Adequately humbled by threat of bristly doom, both dipshits complied.
Hrmph.
“Okay, Roddy, you know the drill before I’ll let you you head back to base.”
Hot Rod sighed in overdramatic resignation before plopping his butt on an often forgotten picnic table that got more use from spiders than humans. Deadlock rested his chin on his un-licked hand and watched curiously.
Ratchet appreciated that, though he wouldn’t admit it. Deadlock was always quiet and thoughtful while Ratchet worked. Kid had an uncanny talent for anticipating what Ratchet needed and picked up on when the bioengineer worked beyond his limits. Well, tried to work beyond his limits.
Since Deadlock started living with him, Ratchet never got away with overworking anymore. He was a big fella with a fearsome temper that dissuaded most folks from pushing him. Previous challengers that tried to force Ratchet to maintain a work-life balance usually gave up on him around the same time the first throwable object goes sailing towards their face.
Deadlock just snorted and put his foot down.
Literally.
He put his foot on top of a piece of particularly contentious machinery that had been driving Ratchet up the wall, refusing to move until he agreed to a “Power Nap” that ended up lasting 6 hours.
Ratchet snorted at the memory and pulled out a pen light as he started Hot Rods physical.
“Hey how far do you think you could throw me?”
Ratchet felt his soul sigh.
“Dunno, couple hundred feet? You’re pretty light.”
“Do not encourage him.” If Ratchet got any satisfaction from Hot Rod wincing as he checked his pupil dilation, then that was his business.
“Okay, but what if I was in a roll cage? It’d be heftier to throw AND safer. Ratchet! You could even design one so it’s definitely up to spec!”
Ratchet was going to get an ulcer from second hand stupid.
He pinched the bridge of his nose very hard before speaking, “You want me to make you a human sized hamster ball so Deadlock can bat you around like a spoiled house cat?”
“Yeah!”
“No!”
Hot Rod mumbled dejectedly to himself while Ratchet tested his range of motion. Once satisfied, Ratchet moved onto the question’s section.
“Alright Roddy, any headaches?”
“No.”
“Nausea?”
“No.”
“Balance issues?”
“You saw me do a whole gymnastics routine on a giant vampire-space-robot.”
“Hrmph. Light headedness?”
“No.”
“Lapses in consciousness?”
“Sleeping count?”
“Hot Rod.”
“Joking! And no.”
“Blurry vision, ringing in the ears or sensitivity to light or noise?”
“Nope, nope, and nope! I’m fine Ratchet!”
“I’m fine Ratchet? You know how many currently dead pilots have said that to me?”
“Well, Pharma signed off on-“
Ratchet slammed the penlight down on the cracked wood table with more force than necessary, making both the pilot and the mech jump.
“Pharma is a conceited piece of SHIT and the only thing his ‘Sign Off sheets’ are good for is WIPING. MY. ASS.”
Ratchet forced air through his nose. Both Deadlock and Hot Rod frozen in place, wide eyed and tense.
Shit.
Ratchet broke the unintended stare down by scrubbing a hand over his face. He should really shave.
“Sorry. You’re not in trouble. It’s just-“
“Pharma.” Hot Rod finished. “It’s okay doc, I get it. You got waaaay higher standards than him. S’why I keep coming back. I trust you. And I know no matter how bad things get you’ll always have our backs, and we’ll have yours.”
It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to fight for people like Hot Rod.
“Plus,” Hot Rod leaned towards Deadlock and yell-whispered dramatically. “He’s been a huge asshole ever since Ratchet dumped him.”
It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to strangle people like Hot Rod.
“Stop phrasing how I left the mecha program like that. It wasn’t just Pharma I had issues with.”
Ratchet tucked his penlight away and ignored the murderous plotting he could feel wafting off of Deadlock. Don’t kill my “ex” coworker was still a rule in effect until further development.
“Last question. Any weird pressures?” Ratchet did finger quotes around the last two words and waited.
Hot Rod was about to automatically say No again but stopped short, and visibly did a mental check of himself.
“Uh, kind of around my stomach and the top of my thighs?”
Ratchet hummed, “Alright, pull up your shirt a little.”
Hot Rod did as he was told, just above the waistband, Ratchet could see some mild day old bruising.
“Yep, that’s what you get for flinging yourself through a car window instead of using the door ya dingbat.”
Ratchet straightened up and appraised the pilot one more time.
“Alright, make sure you put some ice on that when you get back. Otherwise you’re good to go.”
Hot Rod pulled his shirt back down and broke into a grin.
“Thanks Ratchet! See you guys again soon! Don’t do anything awesome without me until then okay?” Hot Rod pointed back to Deadlock for that last bit and waited until he said “On my life!” before finally driving off with a wave goodbye.
—————————
They had each finished their breakfasts, oatmeal and horrible alien blood respectively, when Ratchet said “I need to talk to you about something.”
Deadlock tensed, plating pulling in close before loosening again. Kid probably thought he was in trouble but could tell immediately that Ratchet wasn’t upset with him. He wasn’t sure how the mech did it, but damn if it didn’t make talking to him easier.
“What’s up?” He wiped quintesson gunk from his mouth.
“You gotta be careful with Hot Rod. You really cannot feed into any crazy ideas he has because he will get hurt and it will be by accident.”
Deadlock pinned his finales back and crinkled his nose. “I was careful Ratch. I did everything the way you taught me. I didn’t pick him up by the head, didn’t squeeze him too hard or nothin. And I was ready to stop at any second the moment he said anything hurt!”
“Kid.” Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. He can’t.”
Deadlock tilted his head, “What do you mean?”
———————————————————————
It’s getting real late again and I’ve already resigned myself to making this a three parter.
This time on the Trio of Friendship and Bad Ideas: Deadlock gets to play with a human slinky, Ratchets looses his sanity and something is up with Hot Rod.
Secrets of the mecha programs side effects will be revealed! Next time.
- SSTP
The way I legitimately can't stop smiling while reading this.....
The way your writing feels like a beam of pure joy flashbanging me through the screen. I can't evenKTYLGMNFHD I DONT FUCKING KNOW WHAT ARE YOU ADDIND IN YOUR WRITING BUT THIS STUFF IS ADDICTING PLEASE KEEP IT UP 👁
Also the mental image of Roddy being a human equivalent of a fidget toy for Deadlock is so entertaining I couldn't resist drawing it jfyjncfh
Roddy still doesn't have a design...oh well........
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smallestapplin · 4 months ago
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Do you think Overlord from transformers would be type of guy "I love kinda of woman who can beat the sh t out of me"
Ok ok soo i imagine cybertronian reader who was able to beat the sh t out of Overlord who's now in love with cybertronian reader.
What would her team aka the lost light would react to this 😂😂
This had me cackling. Also I apologize I know you said fem but I don't know how to make the gender important to the story (I'm gender blind I'm so sorry.)
-
-
- you beating Overlord's aft was a miracle and a half. You utilized his pride and slowness against him, though struggling more than you'd like to admit, you managed to out pace him and put the large bot in his place.
- "I don't know what I did! I beat his aft and now he won't leave me alone! I even tell him off and that just seems to get him more interested!" Is what you cry to Rodimus about.
- "I'm gonna be real with you, I don't know how to help you with that. I mean, at least he's not going off the rails and starting fights?" It's all he's got. You know he's right, but it doesn't help you one bit, so yog end up groaning and slumping over in your seat. Roddy tries to pat your back and show you some cool earth thing he has, before Overlord finds you, and coos about how worried he was when you weren't in your habsuite, and glares at Rodimus.
- Overlord still tries to fight everyone, and by Primus Megatron gets it the worst, but he's happy all that's needed is for you to angrily yell Overlord's name and call him back like a dog. Megatron always breathes a sigh of relief when your enraged voice echoes through the room, calling for Overlord to "bring you aft over here right now, I swear to primus if I have to put down my report!-" and watch as the equally large bot instantly drops his fighting stance, rushing over to you, looking far too happy and pleased to be called by you (even if you aren't'.)
- You're tired, you just want to do you job and go about your day, not wake up from a statis to the large blue mech over you, holding a thing of energon for you and asking to spar.
- Ratchet and First Aid hear and see it the most, and believe Ratchet gives you high an audio processor full. You send Overlord to the med bay frequently, and he can't even scold the bot into being more careful cause he's not even listening! He has to deal with Overlord staring at you and not even hearing him.
- First Aid tries to help in that regard, explaining to you that this is getting out of servo, but Overlord nearly throws a medical berth at him for it, only stopping when you glare at him.
- "I fight him, he likes it, I ignore him, he likes that too! Nothing I do sends the massage home for him."
- Ultra Magnus wants to help, trust him he does! This is classified as harassment and he swore to always help his crew members....but....you are literally the only thing keeping Overlord docile, and First Aid and Rodimus have already reported that Overlord does try to swing at them for interfering.
It's safer for everyone to not, after all you seem to handle yourself just fine! You're a strong bot that can handle one of the strongest gladiators in history! He lets you vent as much as you need, but eventually has to tell you he can help once Overlord oversteps.
- Lucky you, you don't have to worry about that. Overlord is obsessed with beating you in battle, but also he loves fighting you, you carry yourself with such strength and confidence once against him, he's smitten. With your speed, to him, it makes your battles feel like a dance! Your movements and skill have him smitten, as does your attitude, your fire and sass have him weak in the knees.
- Prowl is somehow your only ride or die here, he's more worried about what Overlord could do but doesn't think before shouting at him to give you space or to frag off, the temperamental officer goes into protective mode when it comes to you.
- Overlord does not like Prowl because of this, but you cling to your friend in thanks.
- "It's every damn cycle, don't you have a hobby!? Frag I don'tknow, watch a movie, pick up blacksmithing, SOMETHING!" Prowl barely has time to dodge a swift punch, but he manages, and next thing you know there does the fourth table of the week, followed by more shouting, and you having to yell for Overlord to knock it off.
- Rung is definitely getting good use as a therapist, he's trying his best to give you coping skills to help ease your frustrations with your situation, and while they work, you just come back to tell him you came back to your habsuite to Overlord on your berth, and pulling you into his lap.
- "It's rude he didn't ask before doing so."
- "AND THEN HE ASKED TO SPARK BOND, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT!?"
- "Oh my, he asked to spark bond-"
- Even just trying to have a professional conversation with you turns into a chore, not because of you, but because of the angry look guard dog standing behind you, glaring down at anyone speaking to you.
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wardencommanderrodimiss · 7 months ago
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travelogue: Rebel Queen's Ravine, the Hinterlands
(more here, because Inquisition is a game about going on wilderness hikes with your weird coworkers)
“They’re talking about lyrium,” Ena says, waving a roll of parchment at the group. “The fake bandits who overran the area. Says they’d think it’s growing if they didn’t know better.”
“They mention any of the red stuff?” Varric asks.
“No.” Ena tucks the letter in her belt. “But I wouldn’t discard the possibility.”
“‘Course not,” Varric says. “Counting it out’d be too easy. Couldn’t have that.”
“Hold a moment,” Solas says, as Ena starts to walk deeper into the ravine. “Look around you. The scouts asked that we keep appraised of locations to establish new camps. This area seems suitable, does it not?”
Ena turns in place, eyeing the flat ground and tall stone surrounding, and overhanging, the ravine. “It would,” she agrees. “So long as there are no red lyrium deposits nearby. Shall we continue ahead a moment, to be sure?”
“We just gonna leave the bodies here or what?” Varric asks, nudging one of the “bandit” corpses with his foot. The sorry bastards hadn’t stood a chance.
Ena purses her lips. “We’ll come back,” she decides, which is, admittedly, not what Varric had wanted to hear. He shouldn’t have asked, and they could’ve left it for the poor Inquisition sods who came after them. Now he’ll get to help the Herald of Andraste drag bodies, which is not the kind of glamorous tale that he’d like to include in his memoirs of this sordid affair when it’s all over. Maybe it would make her look - down-to-earth? No, she’s far too comfortable with blood and guts for this to be a vignette which will endear her to common folks.
They pass deeper into the ravine. The columnar stone closes off the sky above them, but already they can see the sunlight at the other end of the passage. The ground slopes uphill to the exit. Ena stops at the crest of the hill, scanning the land that opens before them - another section of the Hinterlands that, to Varric, looks identical from where they just came. “This seems like a good spot,” Ena says. “I - what is that?” 
She indicates, down the gently sloping ground ahead of them, a beast far too close for comfort. “That,” Varric says, “sure looks like a young dragon.”
“A dragon?” Ena gasps. Fear flits across her face, along with something else Varric likes even less: eagerness. Of course she wants to see a dragon.
“Don’t,” Varric says, and he feels, for a moment, like Aveline.
Ena pulls back against the stone walls of the ravine, but she keeps moving, as if she thinks she’ll try and skirt around the creature. Madwoman. “I just want to–”
It’s like everything - the ground, the air, the sky, everything - shakes. Wingbeats, thrumming in his ears, quaking in his bones - if there’s a young dragon, then sooner or later there’s gonna be a bigger dragon. Lesson from the Bone Pit: don’t fuck around with those. Not that it stopped Hawke. 
It’s huge, it’s yellow, and it’s not that fucking far away from them. Varric shrinks back into the shadows; Solas has gone completely still. But Ena steps forward, her eyes wide, her lips parted - maybe she can appreciate the majesty of this display, even if Varric sure can’t. All he’s thinking is that thing is too close, and it swings around in the air, a sudden sharp turn so that it’s facing them—
—and it dives. 
“Ena!”
Varric yells at the same time Solas yells at the same time the dragon passes low overhead and spits a massive fireball. Varric is flung off his feet and even before he hits the ground, he feels the strange sensation of a magical barrier surrounding him. The impact still rattles his teeth and every other bone in his body, but it hurts a hell of a lot less than it could, and he’s got Solas’ quick reflexes to thank for that. He sits up. 
Ahead of him, a ring of impact smolders on the ground, the grass still alight with tiny fires, and Solas stands in the middle of it, dragging Ena to her feet. They stumble, together, away from the flames, back into the shelter of the ravine, and topple to the ground just behind Varric. He doesn’t dare try to look back out at the sky. 
Solas drags a hand across his face. He looks at Ena. “Thank you,” she wheezes. “I’m sorry.”
Solas closes his mouth.
Slowly, quietly, more battered than they were a minute ago, they retreat back through the ravine. 
“Still think we should set up camp here?” Varric asks. 
Solas turns a withering glare on him. Ena laughs weakly. 
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electrificata · 1 year ago
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Mutual 1: hurtling towards the gigantic limestone aurochs again btw
Mutual 2: none of you have ever had sex, unlike me, im having sex right now
Mutual 4: eating a full lemon, yes with the rind #NoScurvy
Mutual 5: you cant possibly imagine how difficult it is to be the 21st century incarnation of maximillien robespierre
Mutual 6: *6-armed purple leopardtaur with her tits and dick and balls out* If you even care.
Mutual 7: gifset of two gangly guys from a 70s sitcom making eyes at each other
Mutual 8: none of you have ever had sex, unlike me, im having sex right now
Mutual 9: i need roddy mcdowell to murder me or i'll die
Mutual 10: you cant possibly imagine how difficult it is to be the 21st century incarnation of maximillien robespierre
Mutual 11: *pics from a 90s fashion show with 9 filters over them*
Mutual 12: poll: favorite outfit worn by a character you cant remember during one particular episode of a show you did watch
Mutual 13: #honestly her toxic pussy makes me such a misogynist (tag on image of 40smth actor man)
Mutual 14: the phoenixgirls are setting fire to the dmv!! Its enrichment for them dont worry :)
Mutual 15: server room wire gore images
Mutual 16: 10 ur old meme
Mutual 17: vaguing me
Mutual 18: Let me learn you a thing! Yes i am 35 years old
Mutual 19: people need to stop trying to erase crowley's influence on 20th century magical practice, like we KNOW he's a lying piece of shit but if you wanted to avoid this stuff you should have stayed out of western occultism and kept watching steven-
Mutual 20: if you guys were less panphobic we could still listen to hamilton without getting clowned on
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